CHAPTER 21. THE WOLF PACK
"Good evening, gentlemen. Hope I don't intrude on the festivities."
Leroy smiled down ironically on the four flushed, startled faces thatlooked up at him. Suspicion was alive in every rustle of the men'sclothes. It breathed from the lowering countenances. It itched at thefingers longing for the trigger. The unending terror of a bandit's lifeis that no man trusts his fellow. Hence one betrays another for fear ofbetrayal, or stabs him in the back to avoid it.
The outlaw chief had slipped into the room so silently that the firstinkling they had of his presence was that gentle, insulting voice. Now,as he lounged easily before them, leg thrown over the back of a chairand thumbs sagging from his trouser pockets, they looked the picture ofschoolboys caught by their master in a conspiracy. How long had he beenthere? How much had he heard? Full of suspicion and bad whisky as theywere, his confident contempt still cowed the very men who were planninghis destruction. A minute before they had been full of loud threats andboastings; now they could only search each other's faces sullenly for acue.
"Celebrating Chaves' return from manana land, I reckon. That's theproper ticket. I wonder if we couldn't afford to kill another ofCollins' fatted calves."
Mr. Hardman, not enjoying the derisive raillery, took a hand in thegame. "I expect the boys hadn't better touch the sheriff's calves, nowyou and him are so thick."
"We're thick, are we?" Leroy's indolent eyes narrowed slightly as theyrested on him.
"Ain't you? It sure seemed that way to me when I looked out of thatmesquit wash just above Eldorado Springs and seen you and him eatingtogether like brothers and laughing to beat the band. You was so clostto him I couldn't draw a bead on him without risking its hitting you."
"Spying, eh?"
"If that's the word you want to use, cap. And you were enjoyingyourselves proper."
"Laughing, were we? That must have been when he told me how funny youlooked in the 'altogether' shedding false teeth and information abouthidden treasure."
"Told you that, did he?" Mr. Hardman incontinently dropped repartee as aweapon too subtle, and fell back on profanity.
"That's right pat to the minute, cap, what you say about the informationhe leaks," put in Neil. "How about that information? I'll be plumbtickled to death to know you're carrying it in you vest pocket."
"And if I'm not?"
"Then ye are a bigger fool than I had expected sorr, to come back hereat all," said the Irishman truculently.
"I begin to think so myself, Mr. Reilly. Why keep faith with a set ofswine like you?"
"Are you giving it to us that you haven't got those papers?"
Leroy nodded, watching them with steady, alert eyes. He knew he stood onthe edge of a volcano that might explode at any moment.
"What did I tell yez?" Reilly turned savagely to the other disaffectedmembers of the gang. "Didn't I tell yez he was selling us out?"
Somehow Leroy's revolver seemed to jump to his hand without a motion onhis part. It lay loosely in his limp fingers, unaimed and undirected.
"SAY THAT AGAIN, PLEASE."
Beneath the velvet of Leroy's voice ran a note more deadly than anythreat could have been. It rang a bell for a silence in which the clockof death seemed to tick. But as the seconds fled Reilly's courage oozedaway. He dared not accept the invitation to reach for his weapon and tryconclusions with this debonair young daredevil. He mumbled a retraction,and flung, with a curse, out of the room.
Leroy slipped the revolver back in his holster and quoted, with a laugh:
"To every coward safety, And afterward his evil hour."
"What's that?" demanded Neil. "I ain't no coward, even if Jay is. Idon't knuckle under to any man. You got a right to ante up with someinformation. I want to know why you ain't got them papers you promisedto bring back with you."
"And I, too, senor. I desire to know what it means," added Chaves, hiseyes glittering.
"That's the way to chirp, gentlemen. I haven't got them because Forbesblundered on us, and I had to take a pasear awful sudden. But I made anappointment to meet Collins to-morrow."
"And you think he'll keep it?" scoffed Neil.
"I know he will."
"You seem to know a heap about him," was the significant retort.
"Take care, York."
"I'm not Hardman, cap. I say what I think.
"And you think?" suggested Leroy gently.
"I don't know what to think yet. You're either a fool or a traitor. Iain't quite made up my mind. When I find out you'll ce'tainly hear fromme straight. Come on, boys." And Neil vanished through the door.
An hour later there came a knock at Leroy's door. Neil answered hispermission to enter, followed by the other trio of flushed beauties. Tothe outlaw chief it was at once apparent with what Dutch courage theyhad been fortifying themselves to some resolve. It was characteristicof him, though he knew on how precarious a thread his life was hanging,that disgust at the foul breaths with which they were polluting theatmosphere was his first dominant emotion.
"I wish, Lieutenant Chaves, next time you emigrate you'd bring anotherbrand of poison out to the boys. I can't go this stuff. Just rememberthat, will you?"
The outlaw chief's hard eye ran over the rebels and read them likea primer They had come to depose him certainly, to kill him perhaps.Though this last he doubted. It wouldn't be like Neil to plan hismurder, and it wouldn't be like the others to give him warning andmeet him in the open. Warily he stood behind the table, watching theirawkward embarrassment with easy assurance. Carefully he placed facedownward on the table the Villon he had been reading, but he did itwithout lifting his eyes from them.
"You have business with me, I presume."
"That's what we have," cried Reilly valiantly, from the rear.
"Then suppose we come to it and get the room aired as soon as possible,"Leroy said tartly.
"You're such a slap-up dude you'd ought to be a hotel clerk, cap. You'resure wasted out here. So we boys got together and held a littleelection. Consequence is, we--fact is, we--"
Neil stuck, but Reilly came to his rescue.
"We elected York captain of this outfit."
"To fill the vacancy created by my resignation. Poor York! You're thesacrifice, are you? On the whole, I think you fellows have made a wisechoice. York's game, and he won't squeal on you, which is more than Icould say of Reilly, or the play actor, or the gentlemen from Chihuahua.But you want to watch out for a knife in the dark, York. 'Uneasy liesthe head that wears a crown,' you know."
"We didn't come here to listen to a speech, cap, but to notify you wewas dissatisfied, and wouldn't have you run the outfit any longer,"explained Neil.
"In that event, having heard the report of the committee, if there's nofurther new business, I declare this meeting adjourned sine die. Kindlyremove the perfume tubs, Captain Neil, at your earliest convenience."
The quartette retreated ignominiously. They had come prepared to gloatover Leroy's discomfiture, and he had mocked them with that insolentease of his that set their teeth in helpless rage.
But the deposed chief knew they had not struck their last blow.Throughout the night he could hear the low-voiced murmur of theirplottings, and he knew that if the liquor held out long enough therewould be sudden death at Hidden Valley before twenty-four hours wereup. He looked carefully to his rifle and his revolvers, testing severalshells to make sure they had not been tampered with in his absence.After he had made all necessary preparations, he drew the blinds ofhis window and moved his easy-chair from its customary place beside thefire. Also he was careful not to sit where an shadow would betray hisposition. Then back he went to his Villon, a revolver lying on the tablewithin reach.
But the night passed without mishap, and with morning he ventured forthto his meeting with the sheriff. He might have slipped out from the backdoor of his cabin and gained the canyon, by circling unobserved, up thedraw and over the hogback, but he would not show by these precautionsany fear of the cutthroats w
ith whom he had to deal. As was hisscrupulous custom, he shaved and took his morning bath before appearingoutdoors. In all Arizona no trimmer, more graceful figure of jauntyrecklessness could be seen than this one stepping lightly forth to knockat the bunk-house door behind which he suspected were at least two mendetermined on his death by treachery.
Neil came to the door in answer to his knock and within he could see thevillainous faces at bloodshot eyes of two of the others peering at him.
"Good mo'ning, Captain Neil. I'm on my way to keep that appointment Imentioned last night I'd ce'tainly be glad to have you go along. Nothinglike being on the spot to prevent double-crossing."
"I'm with you in the fling of a cow's tail. Come on, boys."
"I think not. You and I will go alone."
"Just as you say. Reilly, I guess you better saddle Two-step and theLazy B roan."
"I ain't saddling ponies for Mr. Leroy," returned Reilly, with thickdefiance.
Neil was across the room in two strides. "When I tell you to do a thing,jump! Get a move on and saddle those broncs."
"I don't know as--"
"Vamos!"
Reilly sullenly slouched out.
"I see you made them jump," commented the former captain audibly,seating himself comfortably on a rock. "It's the only way you'll getalong with them. See that they come to time or pump lead into them.You'll find there's no middle way."
Neil and Leroy had hardly passed beyond the rock-slide before theothers, suspicion awake in their sodden brains, dodged after them onfoot. For three miles they followed the broncos as the latter pickedtheir way up the steep trail that led to the Dalriada Mine.
"If Mr. Collins is here, he's lying almighty low," exclaimed Neil, as heswung from his pony at the foot of the bluff from the brow of which thegray dump of the mine straggled down like a Titan's beard.
"Right you are, Mr. Neil."
York whirled, revolver in hand, but the man who had risen from behindthe big boulder beside the trail was resting both hands on the rockbefore him.
"You're alone, are you?" demanded York.
"I am."
Neil's revolver slid back into its holster. "Mornin', Val. What's newdown at Tucson?" he said amiably.
"I understood I was to meet you alone, Mr. Leroy," said the sheriffquickly, his blue-gray eyes on the former chief.
"That was the agreement, Mr. Collins, but it seems the boys are on theanxious seat about these little socials of ours. They've embraced thenotion that I'm selling them. I hated to have them harassed with doubts,so I invited the new majordomo of the ranch to come with me. Of cou'se,if you object--"
"I don't object in the least, but I want him to understand theagreement. I've got a posse waiting at Eldorado Springs, and as soon asI get back there we take the trail after you. Bucky O'Connor is at thehead of the posse."
York grinned. "We'll be in Sonora then, Val. Think I'm going to wait andlet you shoot off my other fingers?"
Collins fished from his vest pocket the papers he had taken fromScott hat and from Webster. "I think I'll be jogging along back to thesprings. I reckon these are what you want."
Leroy took them from him and handed them to Neil. "Don't let us detainyou any longer, Mr. Collins. I know you're awful busy these days."
The sheriff nodded a good day, cut down the hill on the slant, anddisappeared in a mesquit thicket, from the other side of which hepresently emerged astride a bay horse.
The two outlaws retraced their way to the foot of the hill and remountedtheir broncos.
"I want to say, cap, that I'm eating humble-pie in big chunks right thisminute," said Neil shamefacedly, scratching his curly poll and lookingapologetically at his former chief. "I might 'a' knowed you was straightas a string, all I've seen of you these last two years. If those coyotessay another word, cap--"
An exploding echo seemed to shake the mountain, and then another. Leroyswayed in the saddle, clutching at his side. He pitched forward, hisarms round the horse's neck, and slid slowly to the ground.
Neil was off his horse in an instant, kneeling beside him. He lifted himin his arms and carried him behind a great outcropping boulder.
"It's that hound Collins," he muttered, as he propped the wounded man'shead on his arm. "By God, I didn't think it of Val."
Leroy opened his eyes and smiled faintly. "Guess again, York."
"You don't mean--"
He nodded. "Right this time--Hardman and Chaves and Reilly. They shotto get us both. With us out of the way they could divide the treasurebetween them."
Neil choked. "You ain't bad hurt, old man. Say you ain't bad hurt,Phil."
"More than I can carry, York; shot through and through. I've beendoubtful of Reilly for a long time."
"By the Lord, if I don't get the rattlesnake for this!" swore Neilbetween his teeth. "Ain't there nothin' I can do for you, old pardner?"
In sharp succession four shots rang out. Neil grasped his rifle, leaningforward and crouching for cover. He turned a puzzled face toward Leroy."I don't savvy. They ain't shooting at us."
"The sheriff," explained Leroy. "They forgot him, and he doubled back onthem."
"I'll bet Val got one of them," cried Neil, his face lighting.
"He's got one--or he's quit living. That's a sure thing. Why don't youcircle up on them from behind, York?"
"I hate to leave you, cap--and you so bad. Can't I do a thing for you?"
Leroy smiled faintly. "Not a thing. I'll be right here when you getback, York."
The curly-headed young puncher took Leroy's hand in his, gulping downa boyish sob. "I ain't been square with you, cap. I reckon afterthis--when you git well--I'll not be such a coyote any more."
The dying man's eyes were lit with a beautiful tenderness. "There's onething you can do for me, York.... I'm out of the game, but I want youto make a new start.... I got you into this life, boy. Quit it, and livestraight. There's nothing to it, York."
The cowboy-bandit choked. "Don't you worry about me, cap. I'm all right.I'd just as lief quit this deviltry, anyhow."
"I want you to promise, boy." A whimsical, half-cynical smile touchedLeroy's eyes. "You see, after living like a devil for thirty years, Iwant to die like a Christian. Now, go, York."
After Neil had left him, Leroy's eyes closed. Faintly he heard two moreshots echoing down the valley, but the meaning of them was already lostto his wandering mind.
Neil dodged rapidly round the foot of the mountain with intent to cutoff the bandits as they retreated. He found the sheriff crouching behinda rock scarce two hundred yards from the scene of the murder. At thesame moment another shot echoed from well over to the left.
"Who can that be?" Neil asked, very much puzzled.
"That's what's worrying me, York," the sheriff returned.
Together they zigzagged up the side of the mountain. Twice from abovethere came sounds of rifle shots. Neil was the first to strike the trailto the mine. None too soon for as he stepped upon it, breathing heavilyfrom his climb, Reilly swung round a curve and whipped his weapon to hisshoulder. The man fired before York could interfere and stood watchingtensely the result of his shot. He was silhouetted against the skyline,a beautiful mark, but Neil did not cover him. Instead, he spoke quietlyto the other.
"Was it you that killed Phil, Reilly?"
The man whirled and saw Neil for the first time. His answer was instant.Flinging up his rifle, he pumped a shot at York.
Neil's retort came in a flash. Reilly clutched at his heart and toppledbackward from the precipice upon which he stood. Collins joined thecowpuncher and together they stepped forward to the point from whichReilly had plunged down two hundred feet to the jagged rocks below.
At the curve they came face to face with Bucky O'Connor. Three weaponswent up quicker than the beating of an eyelash. More slowly each wentdown again.
"What are you doing here, Bucky?" the sheriff asked.
"Just pirootin' around, Val. It occurred to me Leroy might not meanto play fair with you, so I kinder
invited myself to the party. When Iheard shooting I thought it was you they had bushwhacked, so I sat in tothe game."
"You guessed wrong, Bucky. Reilly and the others rounded on Leroy. Whilethey were at it they figured to make a clean job and bump off York, too.From what York says Leroy has got his."
The ranger turned a jade eye on the outlaw. "Has Mr. Neil turned honestman, Val? Taken him into your posse, have you?" he asked, with an edgeof irony in his voice.
The sheriff laid a hand on the shoulder of the man who had been hisfriend before he turned miscreant.
"Don't you worry about Neil, Bucky," he advised gently. "It was Yorkshot Reilly, after York had cut loose at him, and I shouldn't wonder ifthat didn't save your life. Neil has got to stand the gaff for what he'sdone, but I'll pull wires to get his punishment made light."
"Killed Reilly, did he?" repeated O'Connor. "I got Anderson back there."
"That makes only one left to account for. I wonder who he is?" Collinsturned absent-mindedly to Neil. The latter looked at him out of anexpressionless face. Even though his confederate had proved traitor hewould not betray him.
"I wonder," he said.
Bucky laughed. "Made a mistake that time, Val."
"I plumb forgot the situation for a moment," the sheriff grinned."Anyhow, we better be hittin' his trail."
"How about Phil?" Neil suggested.
"That's right. One of us has ce'tainly got to go back and attend tohim."
"You and Neil go back. I'll follow up this gentleman who is escaping,"the ranger said.
And so it was arranged. The two men returned from their grim work ofjustice to the place where the outlaw chief had been left. His eyes litfeebly at sight of them.
"What news, York?" he asked.
"Reilly and Hardman are killed. How are you feelin', cap?" Thecow-puncher knelt beside the dying outlaw and put an arm under his head.
"Shot all to pieces, boy. No, I got no time to have you play doctor withme." He turned to Collins with a gleam of his unconquerable spirit. "Youcame pretty near making a clean round-up, sheriff. I'm the fourth to beput out of business. You'd ought to be content with that. Let York herego."
"I can't do that, but I'll do my best to see he gets off light."
"I got him into this, sheriff. He was all right before he knew me. Iwant him to get a chance now."
"I wish I could give him a pardon, but I can't do it. I'll see thegovernor for him though."
The wounded man spoke to Collins alone for a few minutes, then beganto wander in his mind He babbled feebly of childhood days back in hisKentucky home. The word most often on his lips was "Mother." So, withhis head resting on Neil's arm and his hand in that of his friend, heslipped away to the Great Beyond.
CHAPTER 22. FOR A GOOD REASON
The young ladies, following the custom of Arizona in summer, wereriding by the light of the stars to avoid the heat of the day. They rodeleisurely, chatting as their ponies paced side by side. For though theywere cousins they were getting acquainted with each other for the firsttime. Both of them found this a delightful process, not the less sobecause they were temperamentally very different. Each of them knewalready that they were going to be great friends. They had exchangedthe histories of their lives, lying awake girl fashion to talk into thesmall hours, each omitting certain passages, however, that had to dowith two men who were at that moment approaching nearer every minute tothem.
Bucky O'Connor and Sheriff Collins were returning to the Rocking ChairRanch from Epitaph, where they had just been to deposit twenty-seventhousand dollars and a prisoner by the name of Chaves. Just at the pointwhere the road climbed from the plains and reached the summit of thefirst stiff hill the two parties met and passed. The ranger and thesheriff reined in simultaneously. Yet a moment and all four of them weretalking at once.
They turned toward the ranch, Bucky and Frances leading the way. Alice,riding beside her lover in the darkness, found the defenses upon whichshe had relied begin to fail her. Nevertheless, she summoned them to hersupport and met him full armed with the evasions and complexities of hersex.
"This is a surprise, Mr. Collins," he was informed in her best societyvoice.
"And a pleasure?"
"Of course. But I'm sorry that father has been called to Phoenix. Isuppose you came to tell him about your success."
"To brag about it," he corrected. "But not to your father--to hisdaughter."
"That's very thoughtful of you. Will you begin now?"
"Not yet. There is something I have to tell you, Miss Mackenzie."
At the gravity in his voice the lightness slipped from her like a cloak.
"Yes. Tell me your news. Over the telephone all sorts of rumors havecome to us. But even these were hearsay."
"I thought of telephoning you the facts. Then I decided to ride outand tell you at once. I knew you would want to hear the story at firsthand."
Her patrician manner was gone. Her eyes looked their thanks at him."That was good of you. I have been very anxious to get the facts.One rumor was that you have captured Sir Leroy. Is it true?"
It seemed to her that his look was one of grave tenderness. "No, that isnot true. You remember what we said of him--of how he might die?"
"He is dead--you killed him," she cried, all the color washed from herface.
"He is dead, but I did not kill him."
"Tell me," she commanded.
He told her, beginning at the moment of his meeting with the outlaws atthe Dalriada dump and continuing to the last scene of the tragedy. Ittouched her so nearly that she could not hear him through dry-eyed.
"And he spoke of me?" She said it in a low voice, to herself rather thanto him.
"It was just before his mind began to wander--almost his last consciousthought. He said that when you heard the news you would remember. Whatyou were to remember he didn't say. I took it you would know."
"Yes. I was to remember that he was not all wolf to me." She told itwith a little break of tears in her voice.
"Then he told me to tell you that it was the best way out for him. Hehad come to the end of the road, and it would not have been possible forhim to go back." Presently Collins added gently: "If you don't mind mysaying so, I think he was right. He was content to go, quite game andsteady in his easy way. If he had lived, there could have been no goingback for him. It was his nature to go the limit. The tragedy is in hislife, not in his death."
"Yes, I know that, but it hurts one to think it had to be--that all hissplendid gifts and capabilities should end like this, and that we areforced to see it is best. He might have done so much."
"And instead he became a miscreant. I reckon there was a lack in himsomewhere."
"Yes, there was a great lack in him somewhere."
They were silent for a time. She broke it to ask about York Neil.
"You wouldn't send him to prison after doing what he did, would you?"
"Meaning what?"
"You say yourself he helped you against the other outlaws. Then heshowed you where to start in finding the buried money. He isn't a badman. You know how he stood by me when I was a prisoner," she pleaded.
He nodded. "That goes a long way with me, Miss Mackenzie. The governoris a right good friend of mine. I meant to ask him for a pardon. Ireckon Neil means to live straight from now on. He promised Leroy hewould. He's only a wild cow-puncher gone wrong, and now he's haidedright he'll pull up and walk the narrow trail."
"But can you save him from the penitentiary?"
Collins smiled. "He saved me the trouble. Coming through the Canon DelOro in the night, he ducked. I reckon he's in Mexico now."
"I'm glad."
"Well, I ain't sorry myself, though I helped Bucky hunt real thoroughfor him."
"Father will be pleased to know you got the treasure back," Alice saidpresently, after they had ridden a bit in silence.
"And your father's daughter, Miss Alice--is she pleased?"
"What pleases father pleases me." Her voice, cool as
the plash of icewater, might have daunted a less resolute man. But this one had longsince determined the manner of his wooing and was not to be driven fromit.
"I'm glad of that. Your father's right friendly to me," he announced,with composure.
"Indeed!"
"Sho! I ain't going to run away and hide because you look like you don'tknow I'm in Arizona. What kind of a lover would I be if I broke forcover every time you flashed those dark eyes at me?"
"Mr. Collins!"
"My friends call me Val," he suggested, smiling.
"I was going to ask, Mr. Collins, if you think you can bully me."
"It might be a first rate thing for you if I did, Miss Mackenzie. Allyour life you haven't done anything but trample on sissy boys. Now,I expect I'm not a sissy boy, but a fair imitation of a man, and Ishouldn't wonder but you'd find me some too restless for a door-mat."His maimed hand happened to be resting on the saddle horn as he spoke,and the story of the maiming emphasized potently the truth of his claim.
"Don't you assume a good deal, Mr. Collins, when you imply that I haveany desire to master you?"
"Not a bit," he assured her cheerfully. "Every woman wants to boss theman she's going to marry, but if she finds she can't she's glad of it,because then she knows she's got a man."
"You are quite sure I am going to marry you?" she asked gently--toogently, he thought.
"I'm only reasonably sure," he informed her. "You see, I can't tell forcertain whether your pride or your good sense is the stronger."
She caught a detached glimpse of the situation, and it made forlaughter.
"That's right, I want you should enjoy it," he said placidly.
"I do. It's the most absurd proposal--I suppose you call it aproposal--that ever I heard."
"I expect you've heard a good many in your time.
"We'll not discuss that, if you please."
"I AM more interested in this one," he agreed.
"Isn't it about time to begin on Tucson?"
"Not to-day, ma'am. There are going to be a lot of to-morrows for youand me, and Tucson will have to wait till then."
"Didn't I give you an answer last week?"
"You did, but I didn't take it. Now I'm ready for your sure-enoughanswer."
She flashed a look at him that mocked his confidence. "I've heardabout the vanity of girls, but never in my experience have I met any socolossal as this masculine vanity now on exhibit. Do you reallythink, Mr. Collins, that all you have to do to win a woman is to lookimpressive and tell her that you have decided to marry her?"
"Do I look as if I thought that?" he asked her.
"It is perfectly ridiculous--your absurd attitude of taking everythingfor granted. Well, it may be the Tucson custom, but where I come from itis not in vogue."
"No, I reckon not. Back there a boy persuades girl he loves her byruining her digestion with candy and all sorts of ice arrangements fromsoda-fountain. But I'm uncivilized enough to assume you're a woman ofsense and not a spoiled schoolgirl."
The velvet night was attuned to the rhythm of her love. She feltherself, in this sea of moon romance, being swept from her moorings.Star-eyed, she gazed at him while she still fought again his dominance.
"You ARE uncivilized. Would you beat me when I didn't obey?" she askedtremulously.
He laughed in slow contentment. "Perhaps; but I'd love you while I didit."
"Oh, you would love me." She looked across under her long lashes, not asboldly as she would have liked, and her gaze fell before his. "I havent heard before that that was in the compact you proposed. I don't thinkyou have remembered to mention it."
He swung from the saddle and put a hand to her bridle rein.
"Get down," he ordered.
"Why?"
"Because I say so. Get down."
She looked down at him, a man out of a thousand and for her one out of ahundred million. Before she was conscious of willing it she stood besidehim. He trailed the reins of the ponies, and in two strides came back toher.
"What--do you--want?"
"I want you, girl." His arm swept round her, and he held her while helooked down into her shining eyes. "So I haven't told you that I loveyou. Did you need to be told?"
"We must go on," she murmured weakly. "Frances and LieutenantO'Connor--"
"--Have their own love-affairs to attend to.
"We'll manage ours and not intrude."
"They might think--"
He laughed in deep delight, "--that we love each other. They're welcometo the thought. I haven't told you that I love you, eh? I tell you now.It's my last trump, and right here I table it. I'm no desert poet, but Ilove you from that dark crown of yours to those little feet that tap thefloor so impatient sometimes. I love you all the time, no matter whatmood you're in--when you flash dark angry eyes at me and when you laughin that slow, understanding way nobody else in God's world has the trickof. Makes no difference to me whether you're glad or mad, I want youjust the same. That's the reason why I'm going to make you love me."
"You can't do it." Her voice was very low and not quite steady.
"Why not--I'll show you."
"But you can't--for a good reason."
"Put a name to it."
"Because. Oh, you big blind man--because I love you already." Sheburlesqued his drawl with a little joyous laugh: "I reckon if you'reright set on it I'll have to marry you, Val Collins."
His arm tightened about her as if he would hold her against the wholeworld. His ardent eyes possessed hers. She felt herself grow faint witha poignant delight. Her lips met his slowly in their first kiss.
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends