Chapter 2
A KISS AND AN ARREST
A month had passed, a swift-flying time full of new life. Wonderful itwas for me to think I was still in Diane Sampson's employ.
It was the early morning hour of a day in May. The sun had not yet grownhot. Dew like diamond drops sparkled on the leaves and grass. The gentlebreeze was clear, sweet, with the song of larks upon it.
And the range, a sea of gray-green growing greener, swept away westwardin rolling ridges and hollows, like waves to meet the dark, low hillsthat notched the horizon line of blue.
I was sitting on the top bar of the corral fence and before me stoodthree saddled horses that would have gladdened any eye. I was waitingto take the young ladies on their usual morning ride.
Once upon a time, in what seemed the distant past to this eventfulmonth, I had flattered myself there had been occasions for thought, butscornfully I soliloquized that in those days I had no cue for thoughtsuch as I had now.
This was one of the moments when my real self seemed to stand off andskeptically regard the fictitious cowboy.
This gentleman of the range wore a huge sombrero with an ornamentedsilver band, a silken scarf of red, a black velvet shirt, much affectedby the Indians, an embroidered buckskin vest, corduroys, and fringedchaps with silver buttons, a big blue gun swinging low, high heeledboots, and long spurs with silver rowels.
A flash cowboy! Steele vowed I was a born actor.
But I never divulged the fact that had it not been for my infatuationfor Sally, I never could have carried on that part, not to save theRanger service, or the whole State of Texas.
The hardest part had not been the establishing of a reputation. Thescorn of cowboys, the ridicule of gamblers, the badinage of the youngbucks of the settlement--these I had soon made dangerous procedures forany one. I was quick with tongue and fist and gun.
There had been fights and respect was quickly earned, though theconstant advent of strangers in Linrock always had me in hot water.
Moreover, instead of being difficult, it was fun to spend all the timeI could in the hotels and resorts, shamming a weakness for drink,gambling, lounging, making friends among the rough set, when all thetime I was a cool, keen registering machine.
The hard thing was the lie I lived in the eyes of Diane Sampson andSally Langdon.
I had indeed won the sincere regard of my employer. Her father, hercousin George, and new-made friends in town had come to her with talesof my reckless doings, and had urged my dismissal.
But she kept me and all the time pleaded like a sister to have me mendmy vicious ways. She believed what she was told about me, but had faithin me despite that.
As for Sally, I had fallen hopelessly in love with her. By turns Sallywas indifferent to me, cold, friendly like a comrade, and dangerouslysweet.
Somehow she saw through me, knew I was not just what I pretended to be.But she never breathed her conviction. She championed me. I wanted totell her the truth about myself because I believed the doubt of me alonestood in the way of my winning her.
Still that might have been my vanity. She had never said she cared forme although she had looked it.
This tangle of my personal life, however, had not in the least affectedmy loyalty and duty to Vaughn Steele. Day by day I had grown moreattached to him, keener in the interest of our work.
It had been a busy month--a month of foundation building. My vigilanceand my stealthy efforts had not been rewarded by anything calculated tostrengthen our suspicions of Sampson. But then he had been absent fromthe home very often, and was difficult to watch when he was there.
George Wright came and went, too, presumably upon stock business. Icould not yet see that he was anything but an honest rancher, deeplyinvolved with Sampson and other men in stock deals; nevertheless, as aman he had earned my contempt.
He was a hard drinker, cruel to horses, a gambler not above stacking thecards, a quick-tempered, passionate Southerner.
He had fallen in love with Diane Sampson, was like her shadow when athome. He hated me; he treated me as if I were the scum of the earth; ifhe had to address me for something, which was seldom, he did it harshly,like ordering a dog. Whenever I saw his sinister, handsome face, withits dark eyes always half shut, my hand itched for my gun, and I wouldgo my way with something thick and hot inside my breast.
In my talks with Steele we spent time studying George Wright's characterand actions. He was Sampson's partner, and at the head of a small groupof Linrock ranchers who were rich in cattle and property, if not inmoney.
Steele and I had seen fit to wait before we made any thoroughinvestigation into their business methods. Ours was a waiting game,anyway.
Right at the start Linrock had apparently arisen in resentment at thepresence of Vaughn Steele. But it was my opinion that there were men inLinrock secretly glad of the Ranger's presence.
What he intended to do was food for great speculation. His fame, ofcourse, had preceded him. A company of militia could not have had theeffect upon the wild element of Linrock that Steele's presence had.
A thousand stories went from lip to lip, most of which were false. Hewas lightning swift on the draw. It was death to face him. He had killedthirty men--wildest rumor of all.
He had the gun skill of Buck Duane, the craft of Cheseldine, thedeviltry of King Fisher, the most notorious of Texas desperadoes. Hisnerve, his lack of fear--those made him stand out alone even among ahorde of bold men.
At first there had not only been great conjecture among the viciouselement, with which I had begun to affiliate myself, but also a verydecided checking of all kinds of action calculated to be conspicuous toa keen eyed Ranger.
Steele did not hide, but during these opening days of his stay inLinrock he was not often seen in town. At the tables, at the bars andlounging places remarks went the rounds:
"Who's thet Ranger after? What'll he do fust off? Is he waitin' fersomebody? Who's goin' to draw on him fust--an' go to hell? Jest abouthow soon will he be found somewhere full of lead?"
Those whom it was my interest to cultivate grew more curious, morespeculative and impatient as time went by. When it leaked out somewherethat Steele was openly cultivating the honest stay-at-home citizens, toarray them in time against the other element, then Linrock showed itswolf teeth hinted of in the letters to Captain Neal.
Several times Steele was shot at in the dark and once slightly injured.Rumor had it that Jack Blome, the gunman of those parts, was coming into meet Steele. Part of Linrock awakened and another part, much smaller,became quieter, more secluded.
Strangers upon whom we could get no line mysteriously came and went. Thedrinking, gambling, fighting in the resorts seemed to gather renewedlife. Abundance of money floated in circulation.
And rumors, vague and unfounded, crept in from Sanderson and otherpoints, rumors of a gang of rustlers off here, a hold-up of the stageoff here, robbery of a rancher at this distant point, and murder done atanother.
This was Texas and New Mexico life in these frontier days but, strangelyneither Steele nor I had yet been able to associate any rumor or actwith a possible gang of rustlers in Linrock.
Nevertheless we had not been discouraged. After three weeks of waitingwe had become alive to activity around us, and though it was unseen, webelieved we would soon be on its track.
My task was the busier and the easier. Steele had to have a care for hislife. I never failed to caution him of this.
My long reflection on the month's happenings and possibilities wasbrought to an end by the appearance of Miss Sampson and Sally.
My employer looked worried. Sally was in a regular cowgirl ridingcostume, in which her trim, shapely figure showed at its best, and herface was saucy, sparkling, daring.
"Good morning, Russ," said Miss Sampson and she gazed searchingly at me.I had dropped off the fence, sombrero in hand. I knew I was in for alecture, and I put on a brazen, innocent air.
"Did you break your promise to me?" she asked reproachfully.
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"Which one?" I asked. It was Sally's bright eyes upon me, rather thanMiss Sampson's reproach, that bothered me.
"About getting drunk again," she said.
"I didn't break _that_ one."
"My cousin George saw you in the Hope So gambling place last night,drunk, staggering, mixing with that riffraff, on the verge of a brawl."
"Miss Sampson, with all due respect to Mr. Wright, I want to say that hehas a strange wish to lower me in the eyes of you ladies," I protestedwith a fine show of spirit.
"Russ, _were_ you drunk?" she demanded.
"No. I should think you needn't ask me that. Didn't you ever see a manthe morning after a carouse?"
Evidently she had. And there I knew I stood, fresh, clean-shaven,clear-eyed as the morning.
Sally's saucy face grew thoughtful, too. The only thing she had everasked of me was not to drink. The habit had gone hard with the Sampsonfamily.
"Russ, you look just as--as nice as I'd want you to," Miss Sampsonreplied. "I don't know what to think. They tell me things. You deny.Whom shall I believe? George swore he saw you."
"Miss Sampson, did I ever lie to you?"
"Not to my knowledge."
Then I looked at her, and she understood what I meant.
"George has lied to me. That day at Sanderson. And since, too, I fear.Do you say he lies?"
"Miss Sampson, I would not call your cousin a liar."
Here Sally edged closer, with the bridle rein of her horse over her arm.
"Russ, cousin George isn't the only one who saw you. Burt Waters told methe same," said Sally nervously. I believed she hoped I was telling thetruth.
"Waters! So he runs me down behind my back. All right, I won't say aword about him. But do you believe I was drunk when I say no?"
"I'm afraid I do, Russ," she replied in reluctance. Was she testing me?
"See here, Miss Sampson," I burst out. "Why don't you discharge me?Please let me go. I'm not claiming much for myself, but you don'tbelieve even that. I'm pretty bad. I never denied the scraps, thegambling--all that. But I did do as Miss Sally asked me--I did keep mypromise to you. Now, discharge me. Then I'll be free to call on Mr. BurtWaters."
Miss Sampson looked alarmed and Sally turned pale, to my extreme joy.
Those girls believed I was a desperate devil of a cowboy, who had beenheld back from spilling blood solely through their kind relation to me.
"Oh, no!" exclaimed Sally. "Diane, don't let him go!"
"Russ, pray don't get angry," replied Miss Sampson and she put a softhand on me that thrilled me, while it made me feel like a villain. "Iwon't discharge you. I need you. Sally needs you. After all, it's noneof my business what you do away from here. But I hoped I would be sohappy to--to reclaim you from--Didn't you ever have a sister, Russ?"
I kept silent for fear that I would perjure myself anew. Yet thesituation was delicious, and suddenly I conceived a wild idea.
"Miss Sampson," I began haltingly, but with brave front, "I've been wildin the past. But I've been tolerably straight here, trying to pleaseyou. Lately I have been going to the bad again. Not drunk, but leaningthat way. Lord knows what I'll do soon if--if my trouble isn't cured."
"Russ! What trouble?"
"You know what's the matter with me," I went on hurriedly. "Anybodycould see that."
Sally turned a flaming scarlet. Miss Sampson made it easier for me byreason of her quick glance of divination.
"I've fallen in love with Miss Sally. I'm crazy about her. Here I've gotto see these fellows flirting with her. And it's killing me. I've--"
"If you are crazy about me, you don't have to tell!" cried Sally, redand white by turns.
"I want to stop your flirting one way or another. I've been in earnest.I wasn't flirting. I begged you to--to..."
"You never did," interrupted Sally furiously. That hint had been aspark.
"I couldn't have dreamed it," I protested, in a passion to be earnest,yet tingling with the fun of it. "That day when I--didn't I ask..."
"If my memory serves me correctly, you didn't ask anything," shereplied, with anger and scorn now struggling with mirth.
"But, Sally, I meant to. You understood me? Say you didn't believe Icould take that liberty without honorable intentions."
That was too much for Sally. She jumped at her horse, made the quickestkind of a mount, and was off like a flash.
"Stop me if you can," she called back over her shoulder, her face alightand saucy.
"Russ, go after her," said Miss Sampson. "In that mood she'll ride toSanderson. My dear fellow, don't stare so. I understand many things now.Sally is a flirt. She would drive any man mad. Russ, I've grown in ashort time to like you. If you'll be a man--give up drinking andgambling--maybe you'll have a chance with her. Hurry now--go after her."
I mounted and spurred my horse after Sally's. She was down on the levelnow, out in the open, and giving her mount his head. Even had I wantedto overhaul her at once the matter would have been difficult, well nighimpossible under five miles.
Sally had as fast a horse as there was on the range; she made no weightin the saddle, and she could ride. From time to time she looked backover her shoulder.
I gained enough to make her think I was trying to catch her. Sally loveda horse; she loved a race; she loved to win.
My good fortune had given me more than one ride alone with Sally. MissSampson enjoyed riding, too; but she was not a madcap, and when sheaccompanied us there was never any race.
When Sally got out alone with me she made me ride to keep her fromdisappearing somewhere on the horizon. This morning I wanted her toenjoy to the fullest her utter freedom and to feel that for once I couldnot catch her.
Perhaps my declaration to Miss Sampson had liberated my strongestemotions.
However that might be, the fact was that no ride before had ever beenlike this one--no sky so blue, no scene so open, free, and enchanting asthat beautiful gray-green range, no wind so sweet. The breeze thatrushed at me might have been laden with the perfume of Sally Langdon'shair.
I sailed along on what seemed a strange ride. Grazing horses pranced andwhistled as I went by; jack-rabbits bounded away to hide in the longerclumps of grass; a prowling wolf trotted from his covert near a herd ofcattle.
Far to the west rose the low, dark lines of bleak mountains. They werealways mysterious to me, as if holding a secret I needed to know.
It was a strange ride because in the back of my head worked a hauntingconsciousness of the deadly nature of my business there on the frontier,a business in such contrast with this dreaming and dallying, thislonging for what surely was futile.
Any moment I might be stripped of my disguise. Any moment I might haveto be the Ranger.
Sally kept the lead across the wide plain, and mounted to the top of aridge, where tired out, and satisfied with her victory, she awaited me.I was in no hurry to reach the summit of the long, slow-sloping ridge,and I let my horse walk.
Just how would Sally Langdon meet me now, after my regretted exhibitionbefore her cousin? There was no use to conjecture, but I was nothopeful.
When I got there to find her in her sweetest mood, with some littledifference never before noted--a touch of shyness--I concealed mysurprise.
"Russ, I gave you a run that time," she said. "Ten miles and you nevercaught me!"
"But look at the start you had. I've had my troubles beating you with aneven break."
Sally was susceptible to flattery in regard to her riding, a fact thatI made subtle use of.
"But in a long race I was afraid you'd beat me. Russ, I've learned toride out here. Back home I never had room to ride a horse. Just look.Miles and miles of level, of green. Little hills with black bunches oftrees. Not a soul in sight. Even the town hidden in the green. All wildand lonely. Isn't it glorious, Russ?"
"Lately it's been getting to me," I replied soberly.
We both gazed out over the sea of gray-green, at the undulating wavesof ground in the distance. On these ri
des with her I had learned toappreciate the beauty of the lonely reaches of plain.
But when I could look at her I seldom wasted time on scenery. Looking ather now I tried to get again that impression of a difference in her. Iteluded me.
Just now with the rose in her brown cheeks, her hair flying, her eyeswith grave instead of mocking light, she seemed only prettier thanusual. I got down ostensibly to tighten the saddle girths on her horse.But I lingered over the task.
Presently, when she looked down at me, I received that subtle impressionof change, and read it as her soft mood of dangerous sweetness that cameso seldom, mingled with something deeper, more of character andwomanliness than I had ever sensed in her.
"Russ, it wasn't nice to tell Diane that," she said.
"Nice! It was--oh, I'd like to swear!" I ejaculated. "But now Iunderstand my miserable feeling. I was jealous, Sally, I'm sorry. Iapologize."
She had drawn off her gloves, and one little hand, brown, shapely,rested upon her knee very near to me. I took it in mine. She let itstay, though she looked away from me, the color rich in her cheeks.
"I can forgive that," she murmured. "But the lie. Jealousy doesn'texcuse a lie."
"You mean--what I intimated to your cousin," I said, trying to make herlook at me. "That was the devil in me. Only it's true."
"How can it be true when you never asked--said a word--you hinted of?"she queried. "Diane believed what you said. I know she thinks mehorrid."
"No she doesn't. As for what I said, or meant to say, which is the samething, how'd you take my actions? I hope not the same as you takeWright's or the other fellow's."
Sally was silent, a little pale now, and I saw that I did not need tosay any more about the other fellows. The change, the difference was nowmarked. It drove me to give in wholly to this earnest and passionateside of myself.
"Sally, I do love you. I don't know how you took my actions. Anyway, nowI'll make them plain. I was beside myself with love and jealousy. Willyou marry me?"
She did not answer. But the old willful Sally was not in evidence.Watching her face I gave her a slow and gentle pull, one she couldeasily resist if she cared to, and she slipped from her saddle into myarms.
Then there was one wildly sweet moment in which I had the blissfulcertainty that she kissed me of her own accord. She was abashed, yetyielding; she let herself go, yet seemed not utterly unstrung. PerhapsI was rough, held her too hard, for she cried out a little.
"Russ! Let me go. Help me--back."
I righted her in the saddle, although not entirely releasing her.
"But, Sally, you haven't told me anything," I remonstrated tenderly. "Doyou love me?"
"I think so," she whispered.
"Sally, will you marry me?"
She disengaged herself then, sat erect and faced away from me, with herbreast heaving.
"No, Russ," she presently said, once more calm.
"But Sally--if you love me--" I burst out, and then stopped, stilled bysomething in her face.
"I can't help--loving you, Russ," she said. "But to promise to marryyou, that's different. Why, Russ, I know nothing about you, not evenyour last name. You're not a--a steady fellow. You drink, gamble, fight.You'll kill somebody yet. Then I'll _not_ love you. Besides, I've alwaysfelt you're not just what you seemed. I can't trust you. There'ssomething wrong about you."
I knew my face darkened, and perhaps hope and happiness died in it.Swiftly she placed a kind hand on my shoulder.
"Now, I've hurt you. Oh, I'm sorry. Your asking me makes such adifference. _They_ are not in earnest. But, Russ, I had to tell youwhy I couldn't be engaged to you."
"I'm not good enough for you. I'd no right to ask you to marry me," Ireplied abjectly.
"Russ, don't think me proud," she faltered. "I wouldn't care who youwere if I could only--only respect you. Some things about you aresplendid, you're such a man, that's why I cared. But you gamble. Youdrink--and I _hate_ that. You're dangerous they say, and I'd be, I _am_in constant dread you'll kill somebody. Remember, Russ, I'm no Texan."
This regret of Sally's, this faltering distress at giving me pain, wassuch sweet assurance that she did love me, better than she knew, that Iwas divided between extremes of emotion.
"Will you wait? Will you trust me a little? Will you give me a chance?After all, maybe I'm not so bad as I seem."
"Oh, if you weren't! Russ, are you asking me to trust you?"
"I beg you to--dearest. Trust me and wait."
"Wait? What for? Are you really on the square, Russ? Or are you whatGeorge calls you--a drunken cowboy, a gambler, sharp with the cards, agun-fighter?"
My face grew cold as I felt the blood leave it. At that moment mentionof George Wright fixed once for all my hate of him.
Bitter indeed was it that I dared not give him the lie. But what couldI do? The character Wright gave me was scarcely worse than what I hadchosen to represent. I had to acknowledge the justice of his claim, butnevertheless I hated him.
"Sally, I ask you to trust me in spite of my reputation."
"You ask me a great deal," she replied.
"Yes, it's too much. Let it be then only this--you'll wait. And whileyou wait, promise not to flirt with Wright and Waters."
"Russ, I'll not let George or any of them so much as dare touch me," shedeclared in girlish earnestness, her voice rising. "I'll promise ifyou'll promise me not to go into those saloons any more."
One word would have brought her into my arms for good and all. Thebetter side of Sally Langdon showed then in her appeal. That appeal wasas strong as the drawing power of her little face, all eloquent with itslight, and eyes dark with tears, and lips wanting to smile.
My response should have been instant. How I yearned to give it and winthe reward I imagined I saw on her tremulous lips! But I was bound. Thegrim, dark nature of my enterprise there in Linrock returned to stultifymy eagerness, dispel my illusion, shatter my dream.
For one instant it flashed through my mind to tell Sally who I was, whatmy errand was, after the truth. But the secret was not mine to tell. AndI kept my pledges.
The hopeful glow left Sally's face. Her disappointment seemed keen. Thena little scorn of certainty was the bitterest of all for me to bear.
"That's too much to promise all at once," I protested lamely, and I knewI would have done better to keep silence.
"Russ, a promise like that is nothing--if a man loves a girl," sheretorted. "Don't make any more love to me, please, unless you want me tolaugh at you. And don't feel such terrible trouble if you happen to seeme flirting occasionally."
She ended with a little mocking laugh. That was the perverse side ofher, the cat using her claws. I tried not to be angry, but failed.
"All right. I'll take my medicine," I replied bitterly. "I'll certainlynever make love to you again. And I'll stand it if I happen to seeWaters kiss you, or any other decent fellow. But look out how you letthat damned backbiter Wright fool around you!"
I spoke to her as I had never spoken before, in quick, fierce meaning,with eyes holding hers.
She paled. But even my scarce-veiled hint did not chill her anger.Tossing her head she wheeled and rode away.
I followed at a little distance, and thus we traveled the ten miles backto the ranch. When we reached the corrals she dismounted and, turningher horse over to Dick, she went off toward the house without so much asa nod or good-by to me.
I went down to town for once in a mood to live up to what had beenheretofore only a sham character.
But turning a corner into the main street I instantly forgot myself atthe sight of a crowd congregated before the town hall. There was a babelof voices and an air of excitement that I immediately associated withSampson, who as mayor of Linrock, once in a month of moons held court inthis hall.
It took slipping and elbowing to get through the crowd. Once inside thedoor I saw that the crowd was mostly outside, and evidently not sodesirous as I was to enter.
The first man I saw was Steele looming up
; the next was Sampson chewinghis mustache--the third, Wright, whose dark and sinister face told much.Something was up in Linrock. Steele had opened the hall.
There were other men in the hall, a dozen or more, and all seemedshouting excitedly in unison with the crowd outside. I did not try tohear what was said. I edged closer in, among the men to the front.
Sampson sat at a table up on a platform. Near him sat a thick-setgrizzled man, with deep eyes; and this was Hanford Owens, county judge.
To the right stood a tall, angular, yellow-faced fellow with a drooping,sandy mustache. Conspicuous on his vest was a huge silver shield. Thiswas Gorsech, one of Sampson's sheriffs.
There were four other men whom I knew, several whose faces werefamiliar, and half a dozen strangers, all dusty horsemen.
Steele stood apart from them, a little to one side, so that he facedthem all. His hair was disheveled, and his shirt open at the neck. Helooked cool and hard.
When I caught his eye I realized in an instant that the long deferredaction, the beginning of our real fight was at hand.
Sampson pounded hard on the table to be heard. Mayor or not, he wasunable at once to quell the excitement.
Gradually, however, it subsided and from the last few utterances beforequiet was restored I gathered that Steele had intruded upon some kind ofa meeting in the hall.
"Steele, what'd you break in here for?" demanded Sampson.
"Isn't this court? Aren't you the mayor of Linrock?" interrogatedSteele. His voice was so clear and loud, almost piercing, that I saw atonce that he wanted all those outside to hear.
"Yes," replied Sampson. Like flint he seemed, yet I felt his intenseinterest.
I had no doubt then that Steele intended to make him stand out beforethis crowd as the real mayor of Linrock or as a man whose office was asham.
"I've arrested a criminal," said Steele. "Bud Snell. I charge him withassault on Jim Hoden and attempted robbery--if not murder. Snell had ashady past here, as the court will know if it keeps a record."
Then I saw Snell hunching down on a bench, a nerveless and shaken manif there ever was one. He had been a hanger-on round the gambling dens,the kind of sneak I never turned my back to.
Jim Hoden, the restaurant keeper, was present also, and on second glanceI saw that he was pale. There was blood on his face. I knew Jim, likedhim, had tried to make a friend of him.
I was not dead to the stinging interrogation in the concluding sentenceof Steele's speech. Then I felt sure I had correctly judged Steele'smotive. I began to warm to the situation.
"What's this I hear about you, Bud? Get up and speak for yourself," saidSampson, gruffly.
Snell got up, not without a furtive glance at Steele, and he hadshuffled forward a few steps toward the mayor. He had an evil front,but not the boldness even of a rustler.
"It ain't so, Sampson," he began loudly. "I went in Hoden's place fergrub. Some feller I never seen before come in from the hall an' hit himan' wrastled him on the floor. Then this big Ranger grabbed me an'fetched me here. I didn't do nothin'. This Ranger's hankerin' to arrestsomebody. Thet's my hunch, Sampson."
"What have you to say about this, Hoden?" sharply queried Sampson. "Icall to your mind the fact that you once testified falsely in court, andgot punished for it."
Why did my sharpened and experienced wits interpret a hint of threat ormenace in Sampson's reminder? Hoden rose from the bench and with anunsteady hand reached down to support himself.
He was no longer young, and he seemed broken in health and spirit. Hehad been hurt somewhat about the head.
"I haven't much to say," he replied. "The Ranger dragged me here. I toldhim I didn't take my troubles to court. Besides, I can't swear it wasSnell who hit me."
Sampson said something in an undertone to Judge Owens, and that worthynodded his great, bushy head.
"Bud, you're discharged," said Sampson bluntly. "Now, the rest of youclear out of here."
He absolutely ignored the Ranger. That was his rebuff to Steele'sadvances, his slap in the face to an interfering Ranger Service.
If Sampson was crooked he certainly had magnificent nerve. I almostdecided he was above suspicion. But his nonchalance, his air offinality, his authoritative assurance--these to my keen and practicedeyes were in significant contrast to a certain tenseness of line abouthis mouth and a slow paling of his olive skin.
He had crossed the path of Vaughn Steele; he had blocked the way of thisTexas Ranger. If he had intelligence and remembered Steele's fame, whichsurely he had, then he had some appreciation of what he had undertaken.
In that momentary lull my scrutiny of Sampson gathered an impression ofthe man's intense curiosity.
Then Bud Snell, with a cough that broke the silence, shuffled a coupleof steps toward the door.
"Hold on!" called Steele.
It was a bugle-call. It halted Snell as if it had been a bullet. Heseemed to shrink.
"Sampson, I _saw_ Snell attack Hoden," said Steele, his voice stillringing. "What has the court to say to that?"
The moment for open rupture between Ranger Service and Sampson's idea oflaw was at hand. Sampson showed not the slightest hesitation.
"The court has to say this: West of the Pecos we'll not aid or abet oraccept any Ranger Service. Steele, we don't want you out here. Linrockdoesn't need you."
"That's a lie, Sampson," retorted Steele. "I've a pocket full of lettersfrom Linrock citizens, all begging for Ranger Service."
Sampson turned white. The veins corded at his temples. He appeared aboutto burst into rage. He was at a loss for a quick reply.
Steele shook a long arm at the mayor.
"I need your help. You refuse. Now, I'll work alone. This man Snellgoes to Del Rio in irons."
George Wright rushed up to the table. The blood showed black and thickin his face; his utterance was incoherent, his uncontrollable outbreakof temper seemed out of all proportion to any cause he should reasonablyhave had for anger.
Sampson shoved him back with a curse and warning glare.
"Where's your warrant to arrest Snell?" shouted Sampson. "I won't giveyou one. You can't take him without a warrant."
"I don't need warrants to make arrests. Sampson, you're ignorant of thepower of Texas Rangers."
"You'll take Snell without papers?" bellowed Sampson.
"He goes to Del Rio to jail," answered Steele.
"He won't. You'll pull none of your damned Ranger stunts out here. I'llblock you, Steele."
That passionate reply of Sampson's appeared to be the signal Steele hadbeen waiting for.
He had helped on the crisis. I believed I saw how he wanted to forceSampson's hand and show the town his stand.
Steele backed clear of everybody and like two swift flashes of light hisguns leaped forth. He was transformed. My wish was fulfilled.
Here was Steele, the Ranger, in one of his lone lion stands. Not exactlyalone either, for my hands itched for my guns!
"Men! I call on you all!" cried Steele, piercingly. "I call on you towitness the arrest of a criminal opposed by Sampson, mayor of Linrock.It will be recorded in the report sent to the Adjutant General atAustin. Sampson, I warn you--don't follow up your threat."
Sampson sat white with working jaw.
"Snell, come here," ordered Steele.
The man went as if drawn and appeared to slink out of line with theguns. Steele's cold gray glance held every eye in the hall.
"Take the handcuffs out of my pocket. This side. Go over to Gorsech withthem. Gorsech, snap those irons on Snell's wrists. Now, Snell, back hereto the right of me."
It was no wonder to me to see how instantly Steele was obeyed. He mighthave seen more danger in that moment than was manifest to me; on theother hand he might have wanted to drive home hard what he meant.
It was a critical moment for those who opposed him. There was death inthe balance.
This Ranger, whose last resort was gun-play, had instantly taken theinitiative, and his nerve chilled even me. Perhaps tho
ugh, he read thiscrowd differently from me and saw that intimidation was his cue. Iforgot I was not a spectator, but an ally.
"Sampson, you've shown your hand," said Steele, in the deep voice thatcarried so far and held those who heard. "Any honest citizen of Linrockcan now see what's plain--yours is a damn poor hand!
"You're going to hear me call a spade a spade. Your office is a farce.In the two years you've been mayor you've never arrested one rustler.Strange, when Linrock's a nest for rustlers! You've never sent aprisoner to Del Rio, let alone to Austin. You have no jail.
"There have been nine murders since you took office, innumerable streetfights and hold-ups. _Not one arrest!_ But you have ordered arrests fortrivial offenses, and have punished these out of all proportion.
"There have been law-suits in your court--suits over water rights,cattle deals, property lines. Strange how in these law-suits, you orWright or other men close to you were always involved! Stranger how itseems the law was stretched to favor your interests!"
Steele paused in his cold, ringing speech. In the silence, both outsideand inside the hall, could be heard the deep breathing of agitated men.
I would have liked to search for possible satisfaction on the faces ofany present, but I was concerned only with Sampson. I did not need tofear that any man might draw on Steele.
Never had I seen a crowd so sold, so stiff, so held! Sampson was indeeda study. Yet did he betray anything but rage at this interloper?
"Sampson, here's plain talk for you and Linrock to digest," wenton Steele. "I don't accuse you and your court of dishonesty. Isay--_strange_! Law here has been a farce. The motive behind allthis laxity isn't plain to me--yet. But I call your hand!"