CHAPTER XXI--A MAN FACES DEATH
Taylor's last shot, when he had been automatically pressing the triggerafter Carrington had struck him viciously with his fist, had broughtdown the last of the three men who had ambushed him. And one of his lastbullets had struck Carrington, who had recovered consciousness andstaggered out of the house in time to see the end of the fight. And thebig man, in a black, malignant fury of hatred, was staggering towardTaylor, lifting a foot to kick him, when from the direction of theclearing in front of the house came a voice, hoarse and vibrant with acold, deadly rage:
"One kick an' I blow the top of your head off!" Carrington stopped shortand wheeled, to face Ben Mullarky.
The Irishman's eyes were blazing with wrath, and as he came forward,peering at the figures lying on the ground near the house, Carringtonretreated, holding up his hands.
"Three of ye pilin' on one, eh?" said Mullarky as he looked down atTaylor, huddled against the side of the house. "An' ye got him, too,didn't ye? I've a domn big notion to blow the top of your head off, annyway. Ye slope, ye big limb of the divvle, or I'll do it!"
Mullarky watched while Carrington mounted his horse and rode up theriver trail toward Dawes, and the instant Carrington was out of sight,Mullarky was down on his knees beside Taylor, taking a lightninginventory of his wounds.
"Four of them, looks like!" he muttered thickly, his voice shaking withpity for the slack, limp, smoke-blackened figure that lay silent, thetrace of a smile on its face. "An' two of them through the shoulder!" Hepaused, awed. "Lord, what a shindy!"
Then, swiftly gulping down his sympathy and his rage, Mullarky ran tohis horse, which he had left at the edge of the wood when he had heardthe shooting. He led the animal back to where Taylor lay, tenderlylifted Taylor in his arms, walked to the horse, and after much labor gotTaylor up in front of him on the horse, Taylor's weight resting on hislegs, the man's head and shoulders resting against him, to ease the jarsof the journey.
Then he started, traveling as swiftly as possible down the big slopetoward his own house, not so very far away.
Spotted Tail, jealously watching his master, saw him lifted to the backof the other horse. Shrewdly suspecting that all was not going well, andthat his master would need him presently, Spotted Tail trotted afterMullarky.
In this manner, with Spotted Tail a few paces in his rear, Mullarky,still tenderly carrying his burden, reached his cabin.
He stilled Mrs. Mullarky's hysterical questions with a short command:
"Hitch up the buckboard while I'm gettin' him in shape!"
And then, while Mrs. Mullarky did as she was bidden, Mullarky carriedTaylor inside the cabin, bathed his wounds, stanching the flow of bloodas best he could--and came out again, carrying Taylor, and placed him inthe bed of the light spring-wagon, upon some quilts--and upon a pillowthat Mrs. Mullarky ran into the house to get, emerging with thereproach:
"You'd be lettin' him ride on them hard boards!"
Following Mullarky's instructions, Mrs. Mullarky climbed to the driver'sseat and sent the buckboard toward the Arrow, driving as fast as shethought she dared. And Ben Mullarky, on Spotted Tail, turned his facetoward Dawes, riding as he had never ridden before.
* * * * *
Parsons had reached the Arrow shortly after Taylor had departed forDawes. The man had stopped at the Mullarky cabin to inquire the way fromthe lady, and she had frankly commented upon Parsons' batteredappearance.
"So it was Carrington that mauled you, eh?" she said. "Well, he's amighty evil man--the divvle take his sowl!"
Parsons concurred in this view of Carrington, though he did not tellMrs. Mullarky so. He went on his way, refusing the good woman's profferof a horse, for he wanted to go afoot to the Arrow. He felt sure ofMarion's sympathy, but he wanted to make himself as pitiable an objectas possible. And as he walked toward the Arrow he mentally dramatizedthe moment of his appearance at the ranchhouse--a bruised and batteredfigure dragging itself wearily forward, dusty, thirst-tortured, anddespairing. He knew that spectacle would win the girl's swift sympathy.The fact that the girl herself had been through almost the sameexperience did not affect him at all--he did not even think of it.
And when Parsons reached the Arrow the scene was even as he had dreamedit--Marion Harlan had seen him from afar, and came running to him,placing an arm about him, helping him forward, whispering words ofsympathy in his ears, so that Parsons really began to look upon himselfas a badly abused martyr.
Marion cared for him tenderly, once she got him into the ranchhouse. Shebathed his bruised face, prepared breakfast for him, and later, learningfrom him that he had not slept during the night, she sent him off tobed, asking him as he went into the room if he had seen Ben Mullarky.
"For," she added, "he came here early this morning, after Mr. Taylorleft, and I sent him to the big house to get some things for me."
But Parsons had not seen Mullarky.
And at last, when the morning was nearly gone, and Marion saw ahorse-drawn vehicle approaching the Arrow from the direction of Dawes,she ran out, thinking Ben Mullarky had brought her "things" in hisbuckboard. But it was not Ben who was coming, but Mrs. Mullarky. Thelady's face was very white and serious, and when the girl came close andshe saw the look on the good woman's face, she halted in her tracks andstood rigid, her own face paling.
"Why, Mrs. Mullarky, what has happened?"
"Enough, deary." Mrs. Mullarky waved an eloquent hand toward the rear ofthe buckboard, and slowly approaching, the girl saw the huddled figurelying there, swathed in quilts.
She drew her breath sharply, and with pallid face, swaying a little, shewalked to the rear of the buckboard and stood, holding hard to the rimof a wheel, looking down at Taylor's face with its closed eyes and itsghastly color.
She must have screamed, then, for she felt Mrs. Mullarky's arms aroundher, and she heard the lady's voice, saying: "Don't, deary; he ain'tdead, yet--an' he won't die--we won't let him die."
She stood there by the buckboard for a time--until Mrs. Mullarky,running to one of the outbuildings, returned with Bud Hemmingway. Then,nerved to the ordeal by Bud's businesslike methods, and the awfulprofanity that gushed from his clenched teeth, she helped them carryTaylor into the house.
They took Taylor into his own room and laid him on the bed; a long, limpfigure, pitifully shattered, lying very white and still.
The girl stayed in the room while Mrs. Mullarky and Bud ran hither andthither getting water, cloths, stimulants, and other indispensablearticles. And during one of their absences the girl knelt beside thebed, and resting her head close to Taylor's--with her hands stroking hisblackened face--she whispered:
"O Lord, save him--save him for--for me!"