CHAPTER XXI.
SEEN FROM THE WINDOW.
Never before had there been such a bargain between such a man and such awoman. It was the strangest compact on record. And no wonder Mrs.Arlington had closed the doors that her daughter and her maid should nothear! Had June known all she must have turned with loathing and horrorfrom the woman.
Had D. Roscoe Arlington known he must have been shocked and heart-tornbeyond measure. Had he known he must have wondered if this woman hadmatured from the sweet country girl who once declared with blushes andhanging head that love in a cottage with him was all the happiness sheasked. Had he known he might have remembered the soft moonlight night inJune when beneath the fragrant lilacs they plighted their troth, andsurely his gold-hardened heart would have melted with anguish over thefrightful change.
In truth, Mrs. Arlington had become deranged, as it were, on one point.Her son was her idol. She had petted, and flattered, and spoiled him.She had sent him off to school at Fardale with the conviction that hewas certain to rise superior to all other boys there. And from him shehad come to learn that he had not risen, but had been imposed upon,defeated, baffled, and held down by another lad who was the recognizedleader in the school. Into the ears of his astonished and angry motherChester Arlington had poured his tale of woe, and it had filled her soulwith intense hatred for this other boy by the name of Merriwell who haddared think himself better than her Chester. She had gone to Fardale toset things about as they should be, and had failed. That seemed to fillher with such bitterness that she was quite robbed of sober judgment andreason.
When Mrs. Arlington learned that the mining syndicate had claims to themines belonging to Frank and Dick Merriwell, she was aroused. When shecame to understand that the taking of those mines by the syndicate wouldleave the Merriwell brothers almost penniless and would be the signalfor Dick Merriwell to leave Fardale, she determined that the thingshould be brought about at any cost of money, or time, or trouble toherself.
And it was in pursuit of this determination that the wife of D. RoscoeArlington had come to Arizona and placed herself face to face with aruffian like Cimarron Bill, with whom she now struck a bargain that wasmost astounding.
Was the woman in her right mind?
It made little difference to Bill if she were sane or not, as long as heobtained possession of that money. But when he asked for it in advanceshe smiled upon him coldly, almost scornfully.
"You were paid money by the syndicate, and you pledged them toaccomplish a task at which you failed. This time there will be no moneyforthcoming until the work is done."
In return the man smiled back at her, and he said:
"That settles it! I'm not a fool. When the work is done I may findmyself on the run for Mexico, with the law reaching for me. In such acase I'll have no time to collect. Cash in advance is my motto. You'llbargain with me, or you'll fail, in everything. You cannot get anotherman to fill my boots in the whole country. And if you were to throw medown and give the job over into the hands of another gent, I'd speak oneword to him that would be enough."
"What do you mean?" she asked, wondering and angry. "What word?"
"The word 'stop,'" said Bill. "When Cimarron Bill says 'stop,' you canbet they stop. They know what it means if they don't. If you don't thinkso, count the notches on my guns."
"You mean that you would turn against me?"
"Not exactly, madam; I mean that I have no idea of letting any othergent get my job. I do this piece of work--or no one does it. I ratheradmire the sand of this Merriwell, though I'd slit his throat, just thesame, for the price. If there was no object in being against him, I'dsurely be for him; and it seems that you ought to know better than toput Cimarron Bill in the ranks of the enemy."
"It's a threat!" cried the woman.
"Not so; it's a business statement, begging your pardon, madam. I don'tpropose that any gent shall jump my claim."
"How can I be sure you'll not play me false? How can I know you'll nottake the money and do nothing?"
"The syndicate paid me in advance, as you know. I did my best to earnthe money. It was not my fault that I failed. In this case, if you paythe sum I have named, I swear to you I'll know no rest until I havesucceeded. If I cannot succeed in one way, I will in another."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I'll capture or kill Frank Merriwell himself."
"If you could do that!" said the woman, with great eagerness. "He is thegreat stumbling-block."
"That's right. With him out of the way, taking the mine would be easy."
"Is there no way this can be done before you try to seize the mine?"
"He keeps pretty close to it. If he could be caught by himself. I havehad my hands upon him twice, and he has slipped me both times. Next timehe will not!"
"Next time----"
"An accident will happen to him," assured Bill, with deadly meaning."That will be the simplest method."
"You are right!" she said, in a whisper. "If that could happen----"
"Would you pay the money?"
"I would. Understand, I make no bargain with you for such a thing, butthat mine must be torn from him somehow. I have with me some money."
Cimarron Bill understood her well, and he nodded.
"Madam," he said, "give me a little time and I'll find a way to see toit."
At this moment there was a commotion in the street, the sound offighting dogs, shouts of men, and the clatter of horses' hoofs.
Bill rose quickly and strode to the window, looking down into thestreet. A handsome Irish setter had been attacked by two mongrel dogs,and he was giving those dogs the surprise of their lives. He had one bythe neck in a moment, and the mongrel was shaken like a rat. When thesetter let go the mongrel took to his heels, howling with pain andterror. Then the setter turned on the other dog and a battle that wasfierce enough for a few moments ensued, which ended again in thecomplete triumph of the setter.
Two young men had ridden into town behind the setter, and they had drawnup to witness the result of the fight. A crowd had quickly gathered, andthe triumphant setter was loudly applauded.
At sight of one of the two horsemen Cimarron Bill burst forth with anexclamation of excitement.
"Look!" he said, pointing from the open window. "See--see that fellow onthe dark horse!"
Mrs. Arlington was near the window.
"The one with the small mustache?" she asked.
"Yes, that's the one."
"I see him."
"Well, that's Frank Merriwell!" said Bill.
Cimarron Bill was right. Frank Merriwell and Bart Hodge had ridden intoHolbrook, and with them had come Boxer, the dog. Boxer had been attackedby the mongrel curs, and he showed his mettle by quickly putting them toflight.
As Bill gazed down from that window the evil light in his eyes deepened.
"Remember our bargain!" he said in such a terrible voice that the womanat his side shuddered.
Then she saw him bring forth a revolver, and, knowing what he meant todo, she uttered a little scream and ran back into another part of theroom, unwilling to witness the dark deed.
Quickly kneeling, Bill rested his elbow on the window-ledge and tookaim, meaning to send a bullet through the heart of the rightful owner ofthe Queen Mystery Mine.
The commotion in the street and her mother's cry had brought JuneArlington into that room. June saw the man with the revolver, and hereyes fell on the horseman below. She recognized Frank Merriwell, for allthat he was bronzed and changed, and had a small mustache.
With a sudden scream, the girl flung herself on Bill and spoiled hisaim, so that when the revolver spouted smoke the bullet flew wide of themark intended.
Bill uttered a savage snarl, wheeling about.
"You wretch!" panted the girl, who was now pale as snow. "Youmurderer!"
The man was dazzled by her beauty. Immediately he moved back from thewindow, bowing low.
"Beg your pardon, miss," he said. "He sure is an enemy of mine, an
d outhere we shoots on sight. But mebbe he is your friend, in which case Ilets up and gives him another show."
In that moment of excitement he had fallen into the frontier manner ofspeaking.
She looked at him with unspeakable horror in her eyes.
"What are you doing here?" she panted. "You--you--murderer! Mother--thisman--why is he here?"
But Mrs. Arlington, usually cold as ice and perfectly self-possessed,had quite lost her nerve. She sank into a chair, seeming on the verge offainting, while she gave Bill a look that, ruffian though he was, heunderstood as an appeal to be left alone with June.
Nor was he loath about getting out of that room. His pistol had beendischarged from the window, and, though the bullet had found no humantarget, men might come in haste to ask unpleasant questions.
"I begs your pardon, madam," he said, hurriedly picking up his hat. "Ithinks I'll call again and finish this yere bit o' business. Just now Ihas another matter to attend to."
Then he hastened out.
June had flown to her mother.
"Tell me--tell me, mother, what it means!" she implored.
"My smelling-salts," faintly breathed the woman. "My heart, June! I--I'mafraid!"
Now, June knew well that the one great fear of her mother's life wassudden death from a heart trouble that came upon her at times, and sothe girl hastened to bring out the bottle of salts and hold it beneaththe pale lady's nose till she was somewhat recovered, though stillresting limp on her chair and breathing heavily.
"What does it mean, mother?" asked the girl again. "I do not understandthese strange things. I do not understand why such a wicked-looking manshould be here in this room and about to shoot down in cold blood ayoung man in the street. He would have shot him from this very windowhad not I spoiled his aim."
Mrs. Arlington turned her eyes toward her daughter's face, but lookedaway quickly, still trembling.
"Did you know him at whom the man was about to shoot?" she weakly asked.
"Yes, I knew him, or I am much mistaken. It was Frank Merriwell. I sawhim at the hotel in Fardale the day I returned to him those papers. Yourecollect, mother?"
"Yes, I remember it all too well, and it was the giving back to him ofthose papers that has made no end of trouble for us all. But for thatfoolish act of yours, June, he would not still be holding the mines thatare rightfully the property of the C. M. A. of A."
"If those mines do not belong to him, how is it that he can hold them?"
"He has possession, and he holds it with armed men."
"But the law----"
"The law is slow, and, without those papers, it is not very sure. It isyour folly, girl," declared the woman reproachfully, "that has made noend of trouble. It is your folly that brought Frank Merriwell near tohis end a few moments ago, though you it was who saved him then."
"Mother, you speak in riddles! How can that be? I gave him back what washis. And have you forgotten that it was his brother, Dick, who kept youfrom slipping beneath the car-wheels, where you must have been maimed orkilled?"
At this Mrs. Arlington sat up, and something like anger took from herher great pallor.
"No," said she, "nor have I forgotten that it was Dick Merriwell whobrought upon my son all his trouble at Fardale! Dick Merriwell has beenhis blight there! Dick Merriwell is his enemy. He has tried to sethimself over my boy, and no one shall do that!"
June knew how useless it was to talk of this matter with her mother, whorefused to listen to reason, and so she did not try to press it further;but she again asked who was the man who had tried to shoot from thewindow.
"He was a miner," said Mrs. Arlington.
"And what business had he here in this room?"
"That is nothing to you, girl. Forget that you saw him here."
"A thing easier said than done, mother. I saw his face and his eyes, andI know he is a wicked man and one to be greatly feared. Why should youhave dealings with such a wretch?"
"You ask too many needless questions, June. Look out and tell me if youstill see anything of--of--Frank Merriwell."
But when June looked from the window Frank Merriwell was not to be seenon the street, which had again resumed its usual aspect.
"I must have a spell of quiet to restore my nerves, June," said Mrs.Arlington, when the girl had told her. "Leave me. Call Jackson. I thinkI will lie down."
So the colored maid was called, and June lingered to make sure there wasnothing she could do for her mother, who coldly bade her go.
In her own room June found herself filled with tempestuous thoughts andvain speculations. She was bewildered by it all, and there was much thatshe could not understand, for her mother had told her little or nothingof what had brought them to that Arizona town. She was wise enough toknow full well that the lady had not come there in search of health, andsurely it could not be pleasure she expected in such a place, which leftbut one thing to suppose--it was business. But what sort of businesscould she have there? and why should she meet and do business with amurderous wretch like the man who had tried to shoot Frank Merriwellfrom the open window?
Knowing there was little danger of interruption, June found pen, ink,and paper and sat herself down to write a letter. She thought at firstthat she would make it very brief, and she found it exceedingly hard tobegin; but when she had begun it, it ran on and on until she had writtenmany pages. Sometimes she laughed over it, and sometimes she blushed;once her chin quivered and tears seemed to fill her splendid eyes. Whenit was all finished she read it over, her cheeks glowing, and at the endshe kissed the paper, at which the blush swept down to her very neck,and in great confusion she folded it all hastily and put it into anenvelope, which she hurriedly sealed. Although she was not aware of it,she had spent nearly two hours over the letter. On the envelope shewrote a name and address, and then, finding her hat, she slipped out tomail it.