Chapter 21

INSPIRATION

Half an hour later Jim rode into Barnriff. It was getting on toward noon, and most of the villagers were busy at their various occupations. As he rode on to the market-place he glanced quickly about him, and, all unconsciously, there was defiance and resentment in his dark eyes; the look of a man prepared for the accusations which he knew were awaiting him. But this attitude was quite wasted, for there were few people about, and those few were either too far off, or too busy to note his coming, or appreciate his feelings, as expressed in his dark eyes.

It is strange how instinct will so often take the lead in moments critical in the lives of human beings. Jim had no thought of whither his immediate destination lay, yet he was riding straight for the house of the friendly gold prospector. Doubtless his action was due to a subconscious realization of a friendliness and trust on the part of Peter, which was not to be overborne by the first breath of suspicion.

He was within fifty yards of that friendly, open door, when he became aware that a woman's figure was standing before it. Her back was turned, and she looked to be either peering within the hut, or talking to some one inside it. Nor, strangely enough, did he recognize the trim outline of her figure until she abruptly turned away and moved off in the direction of her own house. It was Eve Henderson. And, without hesitation, he swung his horse in her direction.

She saw him at once and, smiling a welcome, waited for him to come up. He saw the smile and the unhesitating way she stepped forward to greet him. There could have been no doubt of her cordiality, even eagerness, yet with the shadow of his disgrace hanging over him, he tried to look beyond it for that something which he was ready to resent even in her.

He saw the shadow on her face, which even her smile had no power to lift out of its troubled lines. He saw dark shadows round her eyes, the tremulous, drooping mouth, once so buoyant and happy, and he selfishly took these signs to himself, and moodily felt that she was trying vainly to conceal her real thoughts of him behind a display of loyalty.

There was no verbal greeting between them, and he felt this to be a further ominous sign. Somehow, he could not force himself to an ordinary greeting under the circumstances. She had doubtless heard the story, so---- But he was quite wrong. Eve was simply wondering at his coming. Wondering what it portended. She had truly enough heard the story of the recovery of the cattle, as who in Barnriff had not? But her wonder and nervousness were not for him, but for herself. It was for herself, and had to do with that fear she had told Annie Gay of, and which now had become a sort of waking nightmare to her.

Jim sprang from the saddle. Linking his arm through the reins, he stood facing the woman he loved. "Well?" he said, in a curious, half-defiant manner, while his glance swept over every detail of her pretty, troubled face. Finally it settled upon the slight scar over her temple, and a less selfish feeling took possession of him. The change in her expression suddenly told him its own story. Her eyes were the eyes of suffering, not of any condemnation of himself.

"I--I've just been over to see if Peter was in," she said hesitatingly.

"Peter? Oh, yes--and, wasn't he?"

Jim was suddenly seized with a feeling of awkwardness such as he had never before felt when talking to Eve.

The girl shook her head and began to move in the direction of her house. He fell in beside her, and, for a moment, neither spoke. Finally she went on.

"No," she said regretfully. "And I sure wanted to see him so badly. You see," she added hastily, "Elia is away. He's been away for days, and, well, I want to know where he is. I get so anxious when he's away. You see, he's so----"

"And does Peter know where he is?"

"Yes. At least I'm hoping so. Elia goes with him a deal now, on his expeditions. Peter's real good to him. I think he's trying to help him in--in--you know Elia is so--so delicate."

The girl's evident reluctance to put into words her well-loved brother's weaknesses roused all Jim's sympathy.

"Yes, yes. And is he supposed to be with Peter now?"

"He went away with him four days ago."

"I see."

Then there was another awkward pause. Again Eve was the one to break it. They were nearing the gate of her little garden.

"But what has brought you into town, Jim?" she suddenly asked, as though his presence had only just occurred to her as being unusual.

With a rush the memory of all his disgrace came upon him again. He laughed bitterly, harshly.

"Another of Dame Fortune's kicks," he said.

"Another?"

"Yes--ah, I forgot. Of course. Well, we'll call it _one_ of Dame Fortune's kicks."

"You mean the--cattle stealing?" She was staring straight ahead of her, and into her eyes had leaped a sudden look of fear which she dared not let him see.

But Jim was too busy with himself to even notice her hesitation. He had no room to realize her emotions just then.

"Yes," he said, almost viciously. "It's about that--I s'pose I ought to say 'because' of that." She glanced at him swiftly, but waited for him to go on. He did so with another nervous laugh. "I'm 'fired,' Eve. Kicked out by Dan McLagan, and branded by him as a suspected cattle-thief, as surely--as surely as they've found a bunch of his cattle branded with my brand."

They had reached the gate, and Eve turned facing him. There was a curious look in her eyes. It was almost one of relief. Yet it was not quite. There was something else in it. There was incredulity, resentment; something which suggested a whole world of trust and confidence in the man before her.

"Nonsense," she cried. "You--you accused of cattle stealing? You? He must be mad. They must all be mad."

"They?"

The girl suddenly flushed. She had said more than she intended. But there was no use drawing back.

"Oh, yes," she cried hotly. "I didn't mean to let you know. I've heard the story. Of course I have. Who, living in such a place as Barnriff, wouldn't hear it?" she hurried on bitterly. "Directly they told me I laughed at them. But--but they do suspect you. Oh, Jim, I think I hate these folks. You--you suspected of cattle-duffing. McLagan ought to be ashamed of himself. It's cruel in such a country as this. And the evidence is so ridiculous. Oh, Jim, if it weren't so horrible it would be almost--almost laughable."

"Thanks, Eve. And that--is really what you feel?"

She looked him in the face with wide, wondering eyes.

"Why, of course it is."

The man smiled ever so slightly. He felt better. A few more loyal friends like this and his position would be considerably easier.

"But they are all branded with my '[double star]'s," he went on doubtfully.

"And what of it? It's a blind. It's to put folks off the real track. I----" She broke off, and her eyelids were suddenly lowered to hide the fear with which her own words again inspired her. As she did not continue Jim seized his opportunity to pour out something of what he felt at her unquestioning loyalty.

"Eve," he cried, his eyes lighting with the love he was powerless to keep altogether under. "You don't know what all your words mean to me. You don't know how glad they make me feel. Do you know, when I was riding up to you just now I was looking for a sign of suspicion in your eyes? If I'd seen it--if I'd seen it, I can't tell you what it would have meant to me. I almost thought I did see it, but now I know I was wrong. There's just about two folks for whose opinion I care in this village, you and Peter. Well, now I feel I can face the rest. For the present I'm an unconvicted cattle rustler to them. There's not much difference between that and a rawhide rope with them. But there's just a bit of difference, and to that bit I'm going to hold good and tight."

Eve's face suddenly went an ashy gray.

"But, Jim, they'd never--never hang you." Her voice was low. There was a thrill of horror in it which made the man's heart glow. He felt that her horror was for his safety, and not for the fact of the hanging. Then the feeling swiftly passed. He remembered in time that she was the wife of another.

"They would," he said decidedly. "They'd hang me, or anybody else, with very little more proof than they've already got. You don't realize what cattle-duffing means to these folks. It's worse than murder. But," he went on, struggling to lighten his manner, "they're not going to hang me, if I know it. It's up to me to run this rustler to earth. I'm going to. That's what I'm out for. After I'd made up my mind to hunt the devil down McLagan informed me, not in so many words, of course, that to do so was the only way to convince folks of my innocence--himself included. So I'm going to hunt him down, if it takes months, and costs me my last cent. And when I find him"--his eyes lit with a terrible purpose--"may God have mercy on his soul, for I won't."

But the girl had no response for him. Her enthusiastic belief in his innocence found no further expression. When he pronounced his determination her eyes were wide and staring, and as he ceased speaking she turned them toward the distant hills, lest he should witness the terror she could no longer hide. A shudder passed over her slight figure. She was struggling with herself, with that haunting fear that was ever dogging her. The thought of the rawhide rope had set it shuddering through her nerve centres afresh in a way that bathed her in a cold perspiration.

For a moment she stood battling thus. Then, in the midst of the struggle something came upon her, and her heart seemed to stand still. It was as though a flash of mental light had illumined her clouded horizon. Realization swept in upon her, a full terrible realization of the source of her fear.

It was to do with this cattle stealing. Yes, she knew it now. She knew more. She knew who the cattle-rustler was, for whom Jim was to stand the blame. She needed no words to tell her. She had no evidence. She needed none. Her woman's instinct served her, as though she had witnessed his acts. It was Will. It was--her husband.

And, all unconsciously, for so long this had been her fear. She remembered now so many things. She remembered his cynical laugh when he told her of his gold find, and how easy it was to work. She remembered her lack of confidence in his story--knowing the man as she