Chapter 15

After this he told her about the Inferno, and she listened eagerly to his description of the unfortunate characters, though she declared, when he explained some of the crimes that they had committed, that they "Got only what was rightly comin' to them."

The patient could hardly suppress his amusement. Dante was discarded and instead they told each other how much love there was in that little cabin on Cloudy Mountain.

The days that followed were all much like this one. Food was brought up from The Polka and, by degrees, the patient's strength came back. And it was but natural that he became so absorbed in his newly-found happiness that he gradually was losing all sense of danger. Late one night, however, when he was asleep, an incident happened that warned the Girl that it was necessary to get her lover away just as soon as he was able to ride a horse.

Lying on the rug in front of the fire she had been thinking of him when, suddenly, her quick ear, more than ever alert in these days, caught the sound of a stealthy footstep outside the cabin. With no fear whatever except in relation to the discovery of her lover, the Girl went noiselessly to the window and peered out into the darkness. A man was making signs that he wished to speak with her. For a moment she stood watching in perplexity, but almost instantly her instinct told her that one of that race, for she believed the man to be a Mexican, would never dare to come to her cabin at that time of night unless it was on a friendly errand. So putting her face close to the pane to reassure herself that she had not been mistaken in regard to his nationality, she then went to the door and held it wide open for the man to enter, at the same time putting her finger to her lips as a sign that he should be very still.

"What are you doin' here? What do you want?" she asked in a low voice, at the same time leading him to the side of the room further away from her lover.

Jose Castro's first words were in Spanish, but immediately perceiving that he failed to make her understand, he nodded comprehendingly, and said:

"All righta--I espeak Engleesh--I am Jose Castro too well known to the _Maestro_. I want to see 'im."

The Girl's intuition told her that a member of the band stood before her, and she regarded him suspiciously. Not that she believed that he was disloyal and had come there with hostile intent, but because she felt that she must be absolutely sure of her ground before she revealed the fact that Johnson was in the cabin. She let some moments pass before she replied:

"I don't know nothin' about your master. Who is he?"

An indulgent smile crossed the Mexican's face.

"That ver' good to tella other peoples; but I know 'im here too much. You trusta me--me quita safe."

All this was said with many gestures and an air that convinced the Girl that he was speaking the truth. But since she deemed it best that the invalid should be kept from any excitement, she resolved to make the Mexican divulge to her the nature of his important errand.

"How do you know he's here?" she began warily. "What do you want 'im for?"

The Mexican's shifty eyes wandered all over the room as if to make certain that no inimical ears were listening; then he whispered:

"I tella you something--you lika the _Maestro_?"

Unconsciously the Girl nodded, which evidently satisfied the Mexican, for he went on:

"You thinka well of him--yees. Now I tella you something. The man Pedro 'e no good. 'E wisha the reward--the money for Ramerrez. 'E and the woman--woman no good--tell Meester Ashby they thinka 'im 'ere."

The Girl felt the colour leave her cheeks, though she made a gesture for him to proceed.

"Pedro not 'ere any longer," smiled the Mexican. "Me senda 'im to the devil. Serva 'im right."

"An' the woman?" gasped the Girl.

"She gone--got away--Monterey by this time," replied Castro with evident disappointment. "But Meester Ashby 'e know too much--'ees men everywhere searched the camp--no safa 'ere now. To-norrow--" Castro stopped short; the next instant with a joyful gleam in his eyes he cried out: "_Maestro_!"

"Castro's right, Girl," said Johnson, who had waked and heard the Mexican's last words; "it is not safe a moment more here, and I must go."

With a little cry of loving protest the Girl abruptly left the men to talk over the situation and sought the opposite side of the room. There, her eyes half-closed and her lips pressed tightly together she gave herself up to her distressing fears. After a while it was made plain to her that she was being brought into the conversation, for every now and then Castro would look curiously at her; at length, as if it had been determined by them that nothing should be undertaken without her advice, Johnson, followed by his subordinate, came over to her and related in detail all the startling information that Castro had brought.

Quietly the Girl listened and, in the end, it was agreed between them that it would be safer for the men not to leave the cabin together, but that Castro should go at once with the understanding that he should procure horses and wait for the master at a given point across the ravine. It was decided, too, that there was not a moment to be lost in putting their plan into execution. In consequence, Castro immediately took his departure.

The hour that passed before the time set for Johnson to leave the cabin was a most trying one for both of them. It was not so hard on the man, of course, for he was excited over the prospect of escaping; but the Girl, whose mind was filled with the dread of what might happen to him, had nothing to sustain her. Despite his objection, she had stipulated that, with Jackrabbit as a companion, she should accompany him to the outskirts of the camp. And so, at the moment of departure, throwing about her a cloak of some rough material, she went up to her lover and said with a quiver in her voice:

"I'm ready, Dick, but I'm a-figurin' that I can't let you go alone--you jest got to take me below with you, an' that's all there is to it."

The man shook his head.

"There's very little risk, believe me. I'll join Castro and ride all through the night. I'll be down below in no time at all. But we must be going, dear."

The man passed through the door first. But when it came the Girl's turn she hesitated, for she had seen a dark shadow flit by the window. It was as if someone had been stealthily watching there. In another moment, however, it turned out to be Jackrabbit and, greatly relieved, the Girl whispered to Johnson that he was to descend the trail between the Indian and herself, and that on no account was he to utter a word until she gave him permission.

For another moment or so they stood in silence; Johnson, appreciating fully what were the Girl's feelings, did not dare to whisper even a word of encouragement to her. At last, she ordered the Indian to lead the way, and they started.

The trail curved and twisted around the mountain, and in places they had to use the greatest care lest a misstep should carry them over a precipice with a drop of hundreds of feet. It was a perilous descent, inasmuch as the path was covered with snow. Moreover, it was necessary that as little noise as possible should be made while they were making their way past the buildings of the camp below, for the Mexican had not been wrong when he stated that Ashby's men were quartered at, or in the immediate vicinity of, The Palmetto. Fortunately, they passed through without meeting anyone, and before long they came to the edge of the plateau beneath which was the ravine which Johnson had to cross to reach the spot where it had been agreed that Castro should be waiting with horses for his master. It was also the place where the Girl was to leave her lover to go on alone, and so they halted. A few moments passed without either of them speaking; at length, the man said in as cheery a voice as he could summon:

"I must leave you here. I remember the way well. All danger is past."

The Girl's lips were quivering; she asked:

"An' when will you be back?"

The man noted her emotion, and though he himself was conscious of a choking sensation he contrived to say in a most optimistic tone:

"In two weeks--not more than two weeks. It will take all that time to arrange things at the rancho. As it is, I hardly see my way clear to dismissing my men--you see, they belong to me, almost, and--but I'll do so, never fear. No power on earth could make me take up the old life again."

The Girl said nothing in reply; instead she put both her arms around his neck and remained a long time in his embrace. At last, summoning up all her fortitude she put him resolutely from her, and whispered:

"When you are ready, come. You must leave me now." And with a curt command to the Indian she fled back into the darkness.

For an instant the road agent's eyes followed the direction that she had taken; then, his spirits rising at the thought that his escape was now well-nigh assured, he turned and plunged down the ravine.

XV.

As has been said, it was a custom of the miners, whenever a storm made it impossible for them to work in the mines, to turn the dance-hall of the Polka Saloon into an Academy, the post of teacher being filled by the Girl. It happened, therefore, that early the following morning the men of Cloudy Mountain Camp assembled in the low, narrow room with its walls of boards nailed across inside upright beams--a typical miners' dance-hall of the late Forties--which they had transformed into a veritable bower, so eager were they to please their lovely teacher. Everyone was in high spirits, Rance alone refraining from taking any part whatsoever in the morning's activities; dejectedly, sullenly, he sat tilted back in an old, weather-beaten, lumber chair before the heavily-dented, sheet-iron stove in a far corner of the room, gazing abstractedly up towards the stove's rusty pipe that ran directly through the ceiling; and what with his pale, waxen countenance, his eyes red and half-closed for the want of sleep, his hair ruffled, his necktie awry, his waistcoat unfastened, his boots unpolished, and the burnt-out cigar which he held between his white, emaciated fingers, he was not the immaculate-looking Rance of old, but presented a very sad spectacle indeed.

Outside, through the windows,--over which had been hung curtains of red and yellow cotton,--could be seen the green firs on the mountain, their branches dazzling under their burden of snow crystals; and stretching out seemingly interminably until the line of earth and sky met were the great hills white with snow except in the spots where the wind had swept it away. But within the little, low dance-hall, everywhere were evidences of festivity and good cheer, the walls being literally covered with pine boughs and wreaths of berries, while here and there was an eagle's wing or an owl's head, a hawk or a vulture, a quail or a snow-bird, not to mention the big, stuffed game cock that was mounted on a piece of weather-beaten board, until it would seem as if every variety of bird native to the Sierra Mountains was represented there.

Grouped together on one side of the wall were twelve buck horns, and these served as a sort of rack for the miners to hang their hats and coats during the school session. Several mottoes, likewise upon the wall, were intended to attract the students' attention, the most conspicuous being: "Live and Learn" and "God Bless Our School." A great bear's skin formed a curtain between the dance-hall and the saloon, while upon the door-frame was a large hand rudely painted, the index-finger outstretched and pointing to the next room. It said: "To The Bar."

It was, however, upon the teacher's desk--a whittled-up, hand-made affair which stood upon a slightly-raised platform--that the boys had outdone themselves in the matter of decoration. Garlanded both on top and around the sides with pine boughs and upon the centre of which stood a tall glass filled with red and white berries, it looked not unlike a sacrificial altar which, in a way, it certainly was. A box that was intended for a seat for the teacher was also decorated with pine branches; while several cheap, print flags adorned the primitive iron holder of the large lamp suspended from the ceiling in the centre of the room. Altogether it was a most festive-looking Academy that was destined to meet the teacher's eye on this particular morning.

For some time Nick had been standing near the window gazing in the direction of the Girl's cabin. Turning, suddenly, to Rance, the only other occupant of the room, he remarked somewhat sadly:

"I'd be willin' to lose the profits of the bar if we could git back to a week ago--before Johnson walked into this room."

At the mention of the road agent's name Rance's eyes dropped to the floor. It required no flash of inspiration to tell him that things would never be what they had been.

"Johnson," he muttered, his face ashen white and a sound in his throat that was something like a groan. "A week--a week in her cabin--nursed and kissed . . ." he finished shortly.

Nick had been helping himself to a drink; he wheeled swiftly round, confronting him.

"Oh, say, Rance, she--"

Rance took the words out of his mouth.

"Never kissed him! You bet she kissed him! It was all I could do to keep from telling the whole camp he was up there." His eyes blazed and his hands tightened convulsively.

"But you didn't . . ." Nick broke in on him quickly. "If I hadn't been let into the game by the Girl I'd a thought you were a level Sheriff lookin' for him. Rance, you're my ideal of a perfect gent."

Rance braced up in his chair.

"What did she see in that Sacramento shrimp, will you tell me?" presently he questioned, contempt showing on every line of his face.

The little barkeeper did not answer at once, but filled a glass with whisky which he handed to him.

"Well, you see, I figger it out this way, boss," at last he answered, meeting him face to face frankly, earnestly, his foot the while resting on the other's chair. "Love's like a drink that gits a hold on you an' you can't quit. It's a turn of the head or a touch of the hands, or it's a half sort of smile, an' you're doped, doped, doped with a feelin' like strong liquor runnin' through your veins, an' there ain't nothin' on earth can break it up once you've got the habit. That's love."

Touched by the little barkeeper's droll philosophy, the Sheriff dropped his head on his breast, while the hand which held the glass unconsciously fell to his side.

"I've got it," went on Nick with enthusiasm; "you've got it; the boy's got it; the Girl's got it; the whole damn world's got it. It's all the heaven there is on earth, an' in nine cases out of ten it's hell."

Rance opened his lips to speak, but quickly drew them in tightly. The next instant Nick touched him lightly on the shoulder and pointed to the empty glass in his hand, the contents having run out upon the floor.

With a mere glance at the empty glass Rance returned it to Nick. Presently, then, he took out his watch and fell to studying its face intently, and only when he had finally returned the watch to his pocket did he voice what was in his mind.

"Well, Nick," he said, "her road agent's got off by now."

Whereupon, the barkeeper, too, took out his watch and consulted it.

"Left Cloudy at three o'clock this morning--five hours off . . ." was his brief comment.

Once more a silence fell upon the room. Then, all of a sudden, the sound of horses' hoofs and the murmur of rough voices came to their ears, and almost instantly a voice was heard to cry out:

"Hello!"

"Hello!" came from an answering voice.

"Why, it's The Pony Express got through at last!" announced Nick, incredulously; and so saying he took up the whisky bottle and glasses which lay on the teacher's desk and dashed into the saloon. He had barely left, however, than The Pony Express, muffled up to his ears and looking fit to brave the fiercest of storms, entered the room, hailing the boys with:

"Hello, boys! Letter for Ashby!"

The Deputy--who with Trinidad and Sonora had come running in, the latter carrying a boot-leg and a stove-polishing brush in his hand--took the letter and started in search of the Wells Fargo Agent who, Rance had told them, had gone to sleep.

"Well, boys, how d'you like bein' snowed in for a week?" asked The Pony Express, warming himself by the stove; and then without waiting for an answer he rattled on: "There's a rumour at The Ridge that you all let Ramerrez freeze an' missed a hangin'. Say, they're roarin' at you, chaps!" And with a "So long, boys!" he strode out of the room.

Sonora started in hot pursuit after him, hollering out:

"Wait! Wait!" And when The Pony Express halted, he added: "Says you to the boys at The Ridge as you ride by, the Academy at Cloudy is open to-day full blast!"

"Whoopee! Whoop!" chimed in Trinidad and began to execute a _pas seul_ in the middle of the room, dropping into a chair just in time to avoid running into Nick, who hurriedly returned with two glasses and a bottle.

"Help yourselves, boys," he said; which they did to the accompaniment of a succession of joyous yells from Trinidad.

Meantime Rance had relighted the burnt-out cigar which he had been holding for some time between his fingers, and was sending curls of smoke upwards towards the ceiling.

"Academy," he sneered.

Sonora surveyed him critically for some moments; at length he said:

"Say, Rance, what's the matter with you? We began this Academy game together--we boys an' the Girl--an' there's a damn pretty piece of sentiment back of it. She's taught some of us our letters, and--"

"He's a wearin' mournin' because Johnson didn't fall alive into his hands," interposed Trinidad with a laugh.

"Is that it?" queried Sonora.

"Ain't it enough, Rance, that he must be lyin' dead down some canyon, with his mouth full of snow?" A mocking smile was on Trinidad's face as he asked the question.

"You done all you could to git 'im," went on Sonora as if there had been no interruption. "The boys is all satisfied he's dead."

"Dead?" Rance fairly picked up the word. "Dead? Yes, he's dead," he declared tensely, and unconsciously arose and went over to the window where he stood motionless, gazing through the parted curtains at the snow-covered hills. Presently the boys saw a cynical smile spread over his face, and a moment later, he added: "The matter with me is that I'm a Chink."

This depreciation of himself was so thoroughly un-Rance like, that it brought forth great bursts of laughter from the men, but notwithstanding which, Rance went on to admit, in the same sullen tone, that it was all up with him and the Girl.

"Throwed 'im!" whispered Trinidad to Sonora with a pleased look on his face.

Sonora, likewise, was beaming with joy when almost instantly he turned to Nick with:

"As sure's you live she's throwed 'im for me!"

Nick, among his other accomplishments, had a faculty for dumbness and said nothing; but a smile which approached a grin formed on his face as he stood eyeing quizzically first one and then the other. Finally, picking up the empty glasses, he left the room.

"Will old dog Tray remember me"--immediately sung out Trinidad, gleefully. While Sonora, in the seventh heaven of delight, began to caper about the room. Of a sudden Nick poked his head in through the door to inquire into the cause of their hilarity, but they ignored him completely. At the bar-room door, however, Sonora halted and, glancing over his shoulder in the Sheriff's direction, he added in a most tantalising manner:

". . . for me!"

But while Trinidad and Sonora were going out through one door the Deputy was entering through another. He was greatly agitated and carried in his hand the letter which The Pony Express had entrusted to his keeping for Ashby.

"Why, Ashby's skipped!" he announced uneasily. "Got off just after three this morning--posse and all."

A question was in Nick's eyes as he turned upon the speaker with the interjection:

"What!" And then as the Deputy made a dash for the bar-room, he added with a swift change of manner: "Help yourself, Dep."

But if Nick was slow to realise the situation, not so the Sheriff, who instantly awoke to the fact that the Wells Fargo Agent was on Johnson's trail. His lips drew quickly back in a half-grin.

"Ashby's after Johnson," presently he said with a savage little laugh. "Nick, he was watchin' that greaser . . . Took him ten minutes to saddle up--Johnson has ten minutes' start"--He broke off abruptly and ended impatiently with: "Oh, Lord, they'll never get him! He's a wonder on the road--you've got to take your hat off to the damn cuss!" And with a dig at the other's ribs that was half-playful, half-serious, he was off in pursuit of Ashby.

A moment later the miners began to pile in for school, whooping and yelling, their feet covered with snow. Sonora led with an armful of wood, which he deposited on the floor beside the stove; then came Handsome Charlie and Happy Halliday, together with Old Steady and Bill Crow, who immediately dropped on all fours and began to play leap-frog.

"Boys gatherin' for school," observed Trinidad, hurriedly opening the door; and while the men proceeded to flock in, he got into his jacket which lay on a chair beside the teacher's desk.

"Here, Trin, here's the book!" cried out Happy Halliday; and the book, which was securely tied in a red cotton handkerchief, went flying through the air.

In those few words the signal was given; the fun was on in earnest. Instantly the miners--veritable school-boys they were, so genuine was their merriment--braced themselves for a catch of the book, which had landed safely in Trinidad's hands. Now it was aimed at Sonora, who caught it on the fly; from Sonora it travelled to Old Steady, who sent it whizzing over to Handsome. Now the Deputy made ready to receive it; but instead it landed once more in Sonora's hands amidst cheers of "Come on, Sonora! Whoopee! Whoop!"

"Sh-sh-sh, boys!" warned the Deputy as Sonora was about to send the book on another expedition through the air; "here comes the noo scholar from Watson's."

An ominous hush fell upon the room. One could have heard a pin drop as the school settled itself down with anticipatory grins that said, "What won't we do to Bucking Billy!" Therefore, there was not an eye that was not upon the new pupil when with dinner-pail swinging on one arm and the other holding tightly onto a small slate, he slowly advanced towards them.

"Did you ever play Lame Soldier, m' friend?" was Sonora's greeting, while the miners crowded around them.

"No," replied the big, raw-boned, gullible-looking fellow with a grin.

"We'll play it after school; you'll be the stirrup," promised Sonora; then turning to his mates with a laugh, which was unobserved by Bucking Billy, he added: "We'll initiate 'im."

Presently the miners began to move away and Trinidad, picking up a chip which he espied under a bench, put it on his shoulder and stood in the centre of the room, thereby indirectly challenging the new pupil to a scrimmage.

"Don't do it!" cried Old Steady as he hung up his hat upon a buck's horn on the wall.

"Go on! Go on!" encouraged Bill Crow, hanging up his hat beside Old Steady's.

The boys took up his words in chorus.

"Go on! Go on!"

Whereupon, Sonora made a dash far the chip and knocked it off of Trinidad's shoulder, blazing huskily into his face as he did so:

"You do, do you?"

In the twinkling of an eye Trinidad's jacket was off and the two men were engaged in a hand-to-hand scuffle.

"Soak him!" came from a voice somewhere in the crowd.

"Hit him!" urged another.

"Bat him in the eye!" shrieked Handsome Charlie.

Finally Sonora succeeded in throwing down his opponent and sent him rolling along the floor, the contents of his pockets marking his trail.