CHAPTER IX
THE MAN WHO WAS
Lennon sprang from his pony and steadied his rifle across the saddle.Carmena drew in a deep breath.
"That's right," she approved. "Keep him covered. Shoot if he turns--butnot Pete."
The Navaho had drawn rein to tail in behind the pony of his leader. Hethrust a hand overhead in a swift sign gesture.
"You see, Jack. I knew we could count on Pete. The boy thinks a gooddeal of me. He was ready to shoot Cochise in the back."
"But you!" exclaimed Lennon. "That was ripping the way you--what d'yousay?--got the drop on Cochise. My right hand is still too weak for aknockout blow."
Carmena gravely drew a sheath knife from the pocket of her skirt.
"He knows I usually carry my revolver," she said.
Lennon stared.
"Your revolver wasn't in your pocket? Yet you sheathed your rifle!"
"Didn't you notice his men had their guns pointed at us across theirlaps? Sheathing mine was what gave me the chance to bluff him. It's allright now. He won't try any more tricks this time."
She sent a clear call ringing up the cliff. At once the hoist rope beganto reeve down through the pulley of the crane. The rope ladder soonlowered from the other opening. Both saddles were fastened to the hoisthook. But Lennon thrust his rifle through the back of his cartridgebelt.
They found Farley in the doorway, nervously peering down the valleyafter the Indians.
"Cochise was hiding in Devil's Chute until you rode out of sight," hequavered. "He demanded tizwin. I convinced him that Slade took awayevery drop. He then threatened to seize you for his woman and tortureMr. Lennon, if I did not send down Elsie. I postponed the decision untilyour return."
"All right, Dad. We persuaded him to let us come up. But now we're here,I think we'll take no more rides till Slade comes."
Lennon freed his rifle from the belt and stepped in through the doorwayafter the father and daughter. His first glance inside the cliff houseshowed him Elsie labouring at the windlass. He hastened to take thecrank out of her plump little hands. His one-armed winding soon hoistedthe saddles to the crane. The moment the load was safe, Elsietremblingly lifted his hand to look at the blackening bruises left byCochise's steel grip.
"Does it--does it hurt much, Jack?" she whispered. "Once I saw him snapa dog's leg."
Lennon smilingly denied the sharp pain of the strained ligaments. Butinwardly his anger against Cochise hardened into enmity as he lookedinto the girl's innocent eyes and recalled that the brutal Apacheconsidered her his woman.
His reassurance brought instant relief to her volatile mind. She beganto chatter gaily about how she and Carmena would entertain him duringthe wait for Slade. In this the older girl joined with cordialheartiness. Elsie displayed a high stack of women's magazines, for whichCarmena was a regular subscriber. Every three or four months they werebrought in from the nearest post office by Slade.
Elsie fairly showered Lennon with naive questions about the faraway landof cities and green trees and vast stretches of water. Aside from themagazines and what had been told her by Farley and Carmena, she had noknowledge of the world outside the Hole.
Beneath Carmena's quiet manner Lennon discovered an interest as keen asthat of her foster-sister and very much more intelligent. She hadchildhood memories of Ohio. Much to his distaste, she persuaded Farleyto remain most of the day with them in the living room.
But as the wreck that once had been a man listened to Lennon's talk,his bent shoulders began to straighten and his drink-bleared eyescleared. By evening he was talking as one man of culture to another. Heeven showed occasional flashes of a once brilliant mind.
Carmena took care to keep her father stimulated with frequent cups ofcoffee. The whiskey flask appeared to be quite forgotten. After supper,at his suggestion, Elsie brought out an old dog-eared set ofShakespeare. In the flaring light of a homemade tallow candle he readparts of "King Lear" and "Hamlet," with his rapt eyes frequently off thepage for a dozen lines or more.
Lennon's aversion to the broken old drunkard had by now mellowed totolerance and a degree of pity. He realized what the man had been beforesickness had pulled him down and drink degraded him. At times Farley'swhiskey-shattered mind tended to wander. But Lennon good-humouredlyhelped Carmena to bridge the gaps. When her father's face became grayand drawn, the girl said he was sleepy and took him off to bed.
She returned, to find Elsie perched on the arm of Lennon's chair. Theywere both peering at a magazine illustration, with their heads so closetogether that Elsie's yellow curls brushed Lennon's cheek.
The warm glow in Carmena's eyes faded; her smiling lips tightened. Hervoice vibrated with a touch of sharpness:
"Sleep time, Blossom."
Elsie sprang to her light feet with docile obedience. But she lingeredto eye Lennon wistfully as he stood up to meet Carmena's level glance.
"Aren't you going to say good night, Jack?" she coaxed. "Don't--don'tbrothers ever kiss their sisters good night?"
Lennon cast a half-doubtful glance at the girl's unsmilingfoster-sister, hesitated, caught Elsie's golden head between his handsand bent to kiss her forehead. She drew back, overcome with suddenshyness.
Carmena held out a firm hand to Lennon.
"Good night, Jack--and thank you for--Dad. It's two years since he hasbeen anything like to-day."
"The pleasure was mine," replied Lennon.
His tone was not uncordial, but his eyes had turned to watch Elsie danceacross to one of the inner doorways that led into a short passage.Carmena swung around after her foster-sister, with her head well up andher boot heels briskly clicking on the stone floor.
The discovery at his bedside of his own clothes thoroughly cleaned andhis boots well oiled added a touch of gratitude to his tender,compassionate, delightful thoughts of Elsie. He lay awake for an hour ormore, dwelling upon her dainty beauty and fascinating innocence.
But the bleak gray light of dawn brought sober reflections. Whatinterest could he have in the young girl other than to help her escapefrom the savage Cochise? She was a waif, of unknown parentage. Mentallyshe was little more than a child, and all her conscious experience hadbeen confined to the environment of this crude desert valley.
Lennon came out to breakfast with scant appetite. But his moodiness hadcompany. Elsie sat at table tearful-eyed and drooping. Carmena's eyeswere somber and her expression was hard. In reply to Lennon's politeinquiry for Farley she coldly replied that her father was not hungry.
Through one of the outer slit windows of the living room Lennon saw athin column of smoke down the valley toward the corral. Carmena answeredhis unspoken question:
"They're brand-blotting the last bunch of cattle brought into the Hole."
"Brand-blotting?"
"Yes. You wouldn't care to see it--especially when Cochise takes part."
Elsie uttered a smothered little gasp that quickened again all ofLennon's repressed tenderness and compassion. He looked around, tryingto think of some means to divert her. His glance fell upon one of thebowls of ancient pottery.
"May I ask you to show me the rest of this cliff house? Or are the otherrooms in ruins?"
Elsie instantly brightened.
"Oh, no, course not. Only some of the top ones have tumbled in. Dadwon't mind if we show Jack the mummies, will he, Mena?"
"Fetch candles," directed Carmena, clearly as relieved as the others atthe thought of diversion.
They started to ramble through the interior of the cliff house, takingwith them a light ladder to climb to the upper stories. In the lowerrooms at the near end were stored quantities of corn on the cob, driedfruit, and vegetables, honey, dried beef, bacon, and other foods. Thefamily was sufficiently stocked to withstand a half year's siege.
The upper rooms were for the most part empty. Others showed onlyfragments of broken pottery. Some had been broken in through their sidewalls or were open above and littered with the debris of their roofs.Lennon surmised the existence of sev
eral sealed lower chambers, at theback.
Carmena led the way down again and zigzagged through connected roomstoward the far end of the great community house. To the rear of thefront row of rooms was a large chamber heaped with cliff-dwellermummies.
"Slade had them all dumped in here," explained Carmena. "Like theIndians, Elsie is still scared of them. But they have been dead a longtime, poor things. They'll not hurt anybody. They'd protect you,Blossom, if Cochise should get up the cliff and you hid in that corner.He thinks them bad medicine. Slade laughs at Indian spirits. He saysthat corn spirits are the only ones that can put a spell on a man."
"They--they're an awful hold on Dad," quavered Elsie. "He didn't everused to speak cross to me."
In the flickering candle light Carmena's eyes glinted with a look thatLennon thought to be fierce resentment. She thrust past him to thedoorway.
"Wait. I'll be back," she called.
Elsie was tremblingly eager to follow, but Lennon lacked her fear of thedesiccated builders of the cliff house. At one end of the room he hadcome upon what to him was a very interesting heap of their no lessancient possessions. Most of the beautiful old pottery had been smashed,but among the fragments Lennon found several ceremonial stones andtablets, a bone awl, many obsidian arrowheads, and a few brokenturquoise ornaments.
His search was cut short by the return of Carmena. She carried a modernIndian basket-vase that would have been very convenient for holdingLennon's collection. But she gave him no chance to ask for it. Shestared in at him and Elsie from the doorway, her dark eyes glitteringstrangely in the candle light. Her lips were hardset in a bitter smile.
"He's--asleep. Come," she said.
Lennon followed the eager Elsie, who was vastly relieved to leave themummy vault. Yet she was no less mystified than Lennon by herfoster-sister's manner. She shrank back behind him when, after passingthrough two corn-stacked rooms near the far end of the cliff house,Carmena stopped before an entrance that had been closed with a door ofheavy planks. The thick iron hasp was secured with a big padlock.
Carmena handed her candle to Lennon and took a key from her basket.
"Oh, Mena!" whispered Elsie. "Oh, you can't be going to--to---- You knowhow angry Dad--and Slade----"
For answer, Carmena thrust the key into the padlock.