Chapter 9
IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO
A low cry greeted me. The room was light. I saw Sally Langdon sitting onher bed in her dressing gown. Shaking my gun at her with a fiercewarning gesture to be silent, I turned to close the door. It was a heavydoor, without bolt or bar, and when I had shut it I felt safe only forthe moment. Then I gazed around the room. There was one window withblind closely drawn. I listened and seemed to hear footsteps retreating,dying away. Then I turned to Sally. She had slipped off the bed to herknees and was holding out trembling hands as if both to supplicate mercyand to ward me off. She was as white as the pillow on her bed. She wasterribly frightened. Again with warning hand commanding silence Istepped softly forward, meaning to reassure her.
"Russ! Russ!" she whispered wildly, and I thought she was going tofaint. When I got close and looked into her eyes I understood thestrange dark expression in them. She was terrified because she believedI meant to kill her, or do worse, probably worse. She had believed manya hard story about me and had cared for me in spite of them. Iremembered, then, that she had broken her promise, she had tempted me,led me to kiss her, made a fool out of me. I remembered, also how I hadthreatened her. This intrusion of mine was the wild cowboy's vengeance.
I verily believed she thought I was drunk. I must have looked prettyhard and fierce, bursting into her room with that big gun in hand. Myfirst action then was to lay the gun on her bureau.
"You poor kid!" I whispered, taking her hands and trying to raise her.But she stayed on her knees and clung to me.
"Russ! It was vile of me," she whispered. "I know it. I deserveanything--anything! But I am only a kid. Russ, I didn't break myword--I didn't make you kiss me just for, vanity's sake. I swear Ididn't. I wanted you to. For I care, Russ, I can't help it. Pleaseforgive me. Please let me off this time. Don't--don't--"
"Will you shut up!" I interrupted, half beside myself. And I used forcein another way than speech. I shook her and sat her on the bed. "Youlittle fool, I didn't come in here to kill you or do some other awfulthing, as you think. For God's sake, Sally, what do you take me for?"
"Russ, you swore you'd do something terrible if I tempted you anymore,"she faltered. The way she searched my face with doubtful, fearful eyeshurt me.
"Listen," and with the word I seemed to be pervaded by peace. "I didn'tknow this was your room. I came in here to get away--to save my life. Iwas pursued. I was spying on Sampson and his men. They heard me, but didnot see me. They don't know who was listening. They're after me now. I'mSpecial United States Deputy Marshal Sittell--Russell Archibald Sittell.I'm a Ranger. I'm here as secret aid to Steele."
Sally's eyes changed from blank gulfs to dilating, shadowing, quickeningwindows of thought. "Russ-ell Archi-bald Sittell," she echoed. "Ranger!Secret aid to Steele!"
"Yes."
"Then you're no cowboy?"
"No."
"Only a make-believe one?"
"Yes."
"And the drinking, the gambling, the association with those lowmen--that was all put on?"
"Part of the game, Sally. I'm not a drinking man. And I sure hate thoseplaces I had to go in, and all that pertains to them."
"Oh, so _that's_ it! I knew there was something. How glad--how glad Iam!" Then Sally threw her arms around my neck, and without reserve orrestraint began to kiss me and love me. It must have been a moment ofsheer gladness to feel that I was not disreputable, a moment whensomething deep and womanly in her was vindicated. Assuredly she wasentirely different from what she had ever been before.
There was a little space of time, a sweet confusion of senses, when Icould not but meet her half-way in tenderness. Quite as suddenly, thenshe began to cry. I whispered in her ear, cautioning her to be careful,that my life was at stake; and after that she cried silently, with oneof her arms round my neck, her head on my breast, and her hand claspingmine. So I held her for what seemed a long time. Indistinct voices cameto me and footsteps seemingly a long way off. I heard the wind in therose-bush outside. Some one walked down the stony court. Then a shrillneigh of a horse pierced the silence. A rider was mounting out there forsome reason. With my life at stake I grasped all the sweetness of thatsituation. Sally stirred in my arms, raised a red, tear-stained yethappy face, and tried to smile. "It isn't any time to cry," shewhispered. "But I had to. You can't understand what it made me feel tolearn you're no drunkard, no desperado, but a _man_--a man like thatRanger!" Very sweetly and seriously she kissed me again. "Russ, if Ididn't honestly and truly love you before, I do now."
Then she stood up and faced me with the fire and intelligence of awoman in her eyes. "Tell me now. You were spying on my uncle?"
Briefly I told her what had happened before I entered her room, notomitting a terse word as to the character of the men I had watched.
"My God! So it's Uncle Roger! I knew something was very wrong here--withhim, with the place, the people. And right off I hated George Wright.Russ, does Diane know?"
"She knows something. I haven't any idea how much."
"This explains her appeal to Steele. Oh, it'll kill her! You don't knowhow proud, how good Diane is. Oh, it'll kill her!"
"Sally, she's no baby. She's got sand, that girl--"
The sound of soft steps somewhere near distracted my attention, remindedme of my peril, and now, what counted more with me, made clear theprobability of being discovered in Sally's room. "I'll have to get outof here," I whispered.
"Wait," she replied, detaining me. "Didn't you say they were hunting foryou?"
"They sure are," I returned grimly.
"Oh! Then you mustn't go. They might shoot you before you got away.Stay. If we hear them you can hide under my bed. I'll turn out thelight. I'll meet them at the door. You can trust me. Stay, Russ. Waittill all quiets down, if we have to wait till morning. Then you can slipout."
"Sally, I oughtn't to stay. I don't want to--I won't," I repliedperplexed and stubborn.
"But you must. It's the only safe way. They won't come here."
"Suppose they should? It's an even chance Sampson'll search every roomand corner in this old house. If they found me here I couldn't start afight. You might be hurt. Then--the fact of my being here--" I did notfinish what I meant, but instead made a step toward the door.
Sally was on me like a little whirlwind, white of face and dark of eye,with a resoluteness I could not have deemed her capable of. She was asstrong and supple as a panther, too. But she need not have been eitherresolute or strong, for the clasp of her arms, the feel of her warmbreast as she pressed me back were enough to make me weak as water. Myknees buckled as I touched the chair, and I was glad to sit down. Myface was wet with perspiration and a kind of cold ripple shot over me. Iimagined I was losing my nerve then. Proof beyond doubt that Sally lovedme was so sweet, so overwhelming a thing, that I could not resist, evento save her disgrace.
"Russ, the fact of your being here is the very thing to save you--ifthey come," Sally whispered softly. "What do I care what they think?"She put her arms round my neck. I gave up then and held her as if sheindeed were my only hope. A noise, a stealthy sound, a step, froze thatembrace into stone.
"Up yet, Sally?" came Sampson's clear voice, too strained, too eager tobe natural.
"No. I'm in bed, reading. Good night, Uncle," instantly replied Sally,so calmly and naturally that I marveled at the difference between manand woman. Perhaps that was the difference between love and hate.
"Are you alone?" went on Sampson's penetrating voice, colder now.
"Yes," replied Sally.
The door swung inward with a swift scrape and jar. Sampson half entered,haggard, flaming-eyed. His leveled gun did not have to move an inch tocover me. Behind him I saw Wright and indistinctly, another man.
"Well!" gasped Sampson. He showed amazement. "Hands up, Russ!"
I put up my hands quickly, but all the time I was calculating what chanceI had to leap for my gun or dash out the light. I was trapped. And fury,like the hot teeth of a wolf, bit into
me. That leveled gun, the menacein Sampson's puzzled eyes, Wright's dark and hateful face, these loosenedthe spirit of fight in me. If Sally had not been there I would have madesome desperate move.
Sampson barred Wright from entering, which action showed control aswell as distrust.
"You lied!" said Sampson to Sally. He was hard as flint, yet doubtfuland curious, too.
"Certainly I lied," snapped Sally in reply. She was cool, almostflippant. I awakened to the knowledge that she was to be reckoned within this situation. Suddenly she stepped squarely between Sampson and me.
"Move aside," ordered Sampson sternly.
"I won't! What do I care for your old gun? You shan't shoot Russ or doanything else to him. It's my fault he's here in my room. I coaxed himto come."
"You little hussy!" exclaimed Sampson, and he lowered the gun.
If I ever before had occasion to glory in Sally I had it then. Shebetrayed not the slightest fear. She looked as if she could fight like alittle tigress. She was white, composed, defiant.
"How long has Russ been in here?" demanded Sampson.
"All evening. I left Diane at eight o'clock. Russ came right afterthat."
"But you'd undressed for bed!" ejaculated the angry and perplexed uncle.
"Yes." That simple answer was so noncommittal, so above subterfuge, soinnocent, and yet so confounding in its provocation of thought thatSampson just stared his astonishment. But I started as if I had beenstruck.
"See here Sampson--" I began, passionately.
Like a flash Sally whirled into my arms and one hand crossed my lips."It's my fault. I will take the blame," she cried, and now the agony offear in her voice quieted me. I realized I would be wise to be silent."Uncle," began Sally, turning her head, yet still clinging to me, "I'vetormented Russ into loving me. I've flirted with him--teasedhim--tempted him. We love each other now. We're engaged. Please--pleasedon't--" She began to falter and I felt her weight sag a little againstme.
"Well, let go of him," said Sampson. "I won't hurt him. Sally, how longhas this affair been going on?"
"For weeks--I don't know how long."
"Does Diane know?"
"She knows we love each other, but not that we met--did this--" Lightswift steps, the rustle of silk interrupted Sampson, and made my heartsink like lead.
"Is that you, George?" came Miss Sampson's deep voice, nervous, hurried."What's all this commotion? I hear--"
"Diane, go on back," ordered Sampson.
Just then Miss Sampson's beautiful agitated face appeared beside Wright.He failed to prevent her from seeing all of us.
"Papa! Sally!" she exclaimed, in consternation. Then she swept into theroom. "What has happened?"
Sampson, like the devil he was, laughed when it was too late. He hadgood impulses, but they never interfered with his sardonic humor. Hepaced the little room, shrugging his shoulders, offering no explanation.Sally appeared about ready to collapse and I could not have told Sally'slie to Miss Sampson to save my life.
"Diane, your father and I broke in on a little Romeo and Juliet scene,"said George Wright with a leer. Then Miss Sampson's dark gaze swept fromGeorge to her father, then to Sally's attire and her shamed face, andfinally to me. What effect the magnificent wrath and outraged trust inher eyes had upon me!
"Russ, do they dare insinuate you came to Sally's room?" For myself Icould keep silent, but for Sally I began to feel a hot clamoringoutburst swelling in my throat.
"Sally confessed it, Diane," replied Wright.
"Sally!" A shrinking, shuddering disbelief filled Miss Sampson's voice.
"Diane, I told you I loved him--didn't I?" replied Sally. She managed tohold up her head with a ghost of her former defiant spirit.
"Miss Sampson, it's a--" I burst out.
Then Sally fainted. It was I who caught her. Miss Sampson hurried to herside with a little cry of distress.
"Russ, your hand's called," said Sampson. "Of course you'll swear themoon's green cheese. And I like you the better for it. But we know now,and you can save your breath. If Sally hadn't stuck up so gamely for youI'd have shot you. But at that I wasn't looking for you. Now clear outof here." I picked up my gun from the bureau and dropped it in itssheath. For the life of me I could not leave without another look atMiss Sampson. The scorn in her eyes did not wholly hide the sadness. Shewho needed friends was experiencing the bitterness of misplaced trust.That came out in the scorn, but the sadness--I knew what hurt her mostwas her sorrow.
I dropped my head and stalked out.