CHAPTER XIV
THE REWARD OF VICTORY
Gordon breathed hard. He wiped the dust from his perspiring face, as aman almost unconsciously will do after a great exertion. His eyes,however, remained on his defeated adversary. Presently he moved away alittle uncertainly. A moment later, equally uncertainly, he picked uphis soft felt hat. Then, his gaze still steadily fixed on the objectof his concern, he all unconsciously smoothed his ruffled hair andreplaced his hat upon his head.
Hazel, too, was tensely regarding the deathly silent figure of DavidSlosson. A subtle fear was clutching at her heart. So still. He wasso very still.
Gordon's breathing became normal, but his eyes remained absurdly grave.He approached the prostrate man. But before he reached his side hepaused abruptly and breathed a deep sigh of relief--and began to laugh.
"Right!" he cried. Nor was he addressing any one in particular.
Hazel heard his exclamation, and the clutching fear at her heartrelaxed its grip. She understood that Gordon, too, had shared herdread.
Now she shifted her regard to the victor. Her eyes were full of adeep, unspeakable feeling. Gordon was looking in another direction,so, for the moment, she had nothing to conceal.
The man's attention was upon the horses. A strange diffidence made himreluctant to follow his impulse and approach Hazel. He had no pride inhis victory. Only regret for the exhibition he had made before her.Sunset and Slosson's horse were grazing amicably together within twentyyards of the trail. The fight had disturbed them not one whit. TheLady Jane had moved off farther, and, in proud isolation, ignoredeverybody and everything concerned with the indecent exhibition.
Gordon secured the livery horse to a bush, and rode off on Sunset tocollect the Lady Jane. When he returned the defeated man was stirring.
One glance told Gordon all he cared to know, and he passed over towhere Hazel was still standing, and in silence and quite unsmilingly heheld the Lady Jane for her to mount.
Hazel avoided his eyes, but not from any coldness. She feared lest heshould witness that which now, with all her might, she desired toconceal. Her feelings were stirred almost beyond her control. Thisman had come to her rescue--he had rescued her--by that greatchivalrous manhood that was his. And somehow she felt that she mighthave known that he would do so.
Gordon was looking at David Slosson, who was already sitting up. OnceHazel was in the saddle he moved nearer to the disfigured agent.
"If you're looking for any more," he said coldly, "you can find it.But don't you ever come near Buffalo Point again or Mallinsbee's ranch.If you do--I'll kill you!"
David Slosson made no reply. But his eyes followed the two figures asthey rode off, full of a bitter hatred that boded ill for their futuresshould chance come his way.
For some time the speeding horses galloped on, their riders remainingsilent. A strange awkwardness had arisen between them. There was somuch to say, so much to explain. Neither of them knew how to begin, orwhere. So they were nearing home when finally it was Gordon whosesense of humor first came to the rescue. They had drawn their horsesdown to a walk to give them a breath.
Gordon turned in his saddle. His blue eyes were absurdly smiling.
"Well?" he observed interrogatively.
The childlike blandness of his expression was all Hazel needed to helpher throw off the painful restraint that was fast overwhelming her.Again he had saved her, but this time it was from tears.
"Well?" she smiled back at him through the watery signs of unshed tears.
"I guess Sunset 'll hate this trail worse than anything around BuffaloPoint," Gordon said, with a great effort at ease. "He got a floggingI'll swear he never merited."
"Dear old Sunset," said the girl softly. "And--and he can go."
"Go? Why, he's an express train. Say, the Twentieth Century, Limited,isn't a circumstance to him."
Gordon's laugh sounded good in Hazel's ears, and the last sign of tearswas banished. It had been touch and go. She had wanted to laugh andto scream during the fight. Afterwards she had wanted only to weep.Now she just felt glad she was riding beside a man whom she regarded assomething in the nature of a hero.
"I sort of feel I owe him an apology," Gordon went on doubtfully."Same as I owe you one. I--I'm afraid I made a--a disgustingexhibition of myself. I--I wish I hadn't nearly bitten off that cur'sfingers. It's--awful. It--was that or lose my eyesight."
Hazel had nothing to say. A shiver passed over her, but it was causedby the thought that the man beside her might have been left blinded.
"You see, that was 'rough and tough,'" Gordon went on, feeling that hemust explain. "It's not human. It's worse than the beasts of thefields. I--I'm ashamed. But I had to save my eyes. I thought I'dkilled him."
"I'm glad you didn't," Hazel said in a low voice. Then she addedquickly, "But not for his sake."
Gordon nodded.
"He deserved anything."
Suddenly Hazel turned a pair of shining eyes upon him.
"Oh, I wish I were a man!" she cried. "Deserved? Oh, he deservedeverything; but so did I. I'll never do it again. Never, never,never! You warned me. You knew. And it was only you who saved mefrom the result of my folly. I--I thought I was smart enough to dealwith him. I--I thought I was clever." She laughed bitterly. "Ithought, because I run our ranch and can do things that few girls canthat way, I could beat a man like that. Say, Mr. Van Henslaer,I'm--just what he took me for--a silly country girl. Oh, I feel so madwith myself, and if it hadn't been for you I don't know what would havehappened. Oh, if I could only have fought like you. It--it waswonderful. And--I brought it all on you by my folly."
There was a strange mixture of emotion in the girl's swift flow ofwords. There was a bitter feeling of self-contempt, a vain andhelpless regret; but in all she said, in her shining eyes and warmth ofmanner, there was a scarcely concealed delight in her rescuer's greatmanhood, courage and devotion. If Gordon beheld it, it is doubtful ifhe read it aright. For himself, a great joy that he had been ofservice in her protection pervaded him. Just now, for him, all lifecentered round Hazel Mallinsbee and her well-being.
"You brought nothing on," he said, his eyes smiling tenderly round ather. "He's a disease that would overtake any girl." Then he began tolaugh, with the intention of dispelling all her regrets. "Say, he'sjust one of life's experiences, and experience is generally unpleasant.See how much he's taught us both. You've learned that a feller who canwear a suit that sets all sense of good taste squirming most generallyhas a mind to match it. I've learned that no honesty of methods,whether in scrapping or anything else, is a match for the unscrupulousmethods of a low-down mind. Guess we'll both pigeon-hole those factsand try not to forget 'em. But say--there's worse worrying," he added,with an absurdly happy laugh.
"Worse?"
"Only worse because it hasn't happened yet--like the other things have.You see, the worst always lies in those things we don't know."
"You're thinking of the Buffalo Point scheme?"
"Partly."
"Partly?"
"Did he tell you anything?"
Hazel nodded.
"He said you'd--turned him out of the office."
"That all?" Gordon was chuckling.
"He said you'd told him to go to----" Hazel's eyes were smiling.
"Just so. I did," returned Gordon. "That's the trouble now. I've gotto face your father. I've hit on a plan to beat this feller. I've gotthe help of Peter McSwain and some of the boys at Snake's. I'd anotion we'd pull the thing off, so I just took it into my ownhands--and your father don't know of it. I'm worrying how he'll feel.You see, if I fail, why, I've busted the whole contract. And now thisthing. Say, what's going to happen next?" As he put his finalquestion his smiling face looked ludicrously serene.
Hazel had entirely recovered from her recent experiences. She laughedoutright. More and more this man appealed to her. His calm, recklesscourage was a wonderful thing in
her eyes. Their whole schemes mightbe jeopardized by that afternoon's work, but he had acted withoutthought of consequence, without thought of anybody or anything beyondthe fact that he yearned to beat this man Slosson, and would sparenothing to do so. What was this wild scheme he had suddenly conceived,almost the first moment he was left in sole control?
She tried to look serious.
"Can you tell it me now?" she asked.
"I could, of course, but----"
"You'd rather wait to see father about it."
"I don't know," said Gordon, with a wry twist of the lips and a shrug."Say, did you ever feel a perfect, idiotic fool? No, of course younever have, because you couldn't be one. I feel that way. Guess it'sa sort of reaction. I just know I've busted everything. The whole ofour scheme is on the rocks, through me, and, for the life of me,somehow I--I don't care. I've hit up that cur so he won't want hismed'cine again for years, and it was good, because it was for you. SoI don't just care two cents about anything. Say, I'm learning I'malive, same as you talked about the first day I met you, and it's youare teaching me. But the champagne of life isn't just Life. GuessLife is just a cheap claret. You're the champagne of my life. Thatbeing so, I guess I'm a drunkard for champagne."
Hazel was held serious by some feeling that also kept her silent.Somehow she could no longer face those shining, smiling, ingenuous blueeyes. She wanted to, because she felt they were the most beautiful inthe whole world, and she longed to go on gazing into them forever andever. But something forced her to deny herself, and she kept hersstraight ahead.
Gordon went on.
"Say, I haven't said anything wrong, have I?" he cried, fearful of herdispleasure. "You see, I can't put things as they run through my head.That's one of the queer things about a feller. You know, I've got awhole heap of beautiful language running around in my head, and when Itry to turn it loose it comes out all mussed up and wrong. Guessyou've never been like that. That's where girls are so clever. D'youknow, if you were to ask me just to pass the salt at supper it wouldsound to me like the taste of ice-cream?"
Hazel looked round at the earnest face with a swift sidelong glance.Then her laughter would no longer be denied.
"Would it?" she cried.
"Say, don't laugh at a feller. I'm in great trouble," Gordon went onquickly.
"Trouble?"
"Sure. Wouldn't you be if you'd bust up a man's scheme the same as Ihave, and if the only person in the world whose opinion you cared forcan't help but think you all sorts of a fool?"
Hazel's smile had become very, very tender.
"Who thinks you a--fool?"
"Anybody with sense."
"Then I'm afraid I've got no sense."
Gordon found himself looking into the girl's serious eyes.
"You--don't think me--a--fool?" he cried incredulously.
Hazel had no longer any inclination to laugh. A great emotion suddenlysurged through her heart, and her pretty oval face was set flushing.
"When a woman owes a man what I owe you, if he were the greatest foolin the world to others, to that woman he becomes all that is great andfine, and--and--oh, just everything she can think good of him. Butyou--you are not a fool, or anything approaching it. I don't care whatyou have done in our affairs--for me, whatever it is, it is right.I'll tell you something more. I am certain that if my daddy winsthrough it will be your doing."
Gordon had nothing to say. He was dumbfounded. Hazel, in hergenerosity, was the woman he had always dreamed of since that first dayhe had seen her, which seemed so far back and long ago. He had nothingto say, because there was just one thought in his mind, and thatthought was, then and there to take her in his arms and release her forno man, not even her----
Hazel was pointing along the trail.
"Why, there is my daddy coming along--on foot. I've never--known himto walk a prairie trail ever before, I wonder what's ailing him."
And then Gordon had to laugh.
They were back in the office. By every conceivable process SilasMallinsbee had sought to discover what had happened. But Hazel wouldtell him nothing, and Gordon followed her lead.
The old man was disturbed. He was on the verge of anger with both ofthem. Then Hazel lifted the safety valve as she remounted her mare,preparatory to a hasty retreat homewards.
"I'll get back to home, Daddy," she said, in a tone lacking all herusual enthusiasm. "Mr. Van Henslaer has a lot to tell you aboutthings, and when I am not here he'll be able to tell you all thathappened--out there."
Gordon again took his cue.
"Yes, I've a heap to tell you," he said, without any display ofenjoyment.
The men passed into the office as Hazel took her departure. Herfarewell wave of the hand and its accompanying smile for once were notfor her father. Even in the midst of his mixed feelings that obviousfarewell to Gordon made the old rancher feel a breath of the winter hehad once spoken of, nipping the rims of his ears.
And his mind settled upon the thought of banking the furnaceswith--coal.
He took his seat in the big chair he always used and lit a cigar.Gordon went at once to his desk and sat down. He leaned forward withhands clasped, and looked squarely into the strong face before him.
"It's bad talk," he said briefly.
"So I guessed."
Then, after a few moments of silence, Gordon recounted the story of theevents of the afternoon right up to Mallinsbee's arrival at the office.
The rancher listened without comment, but with obvious impatience.This was not what he wanted to hear first. But Gordon had his own wayof doing things.
"You see, I took a big chance on the spur of the moment," he finishedup. "I just didn't dare to think. The idea took right hold of me.And even now, when I tell it you in cold blood, I seem to feel it wasone of those inspirations that don't need to be passed by. In theordinary way I believe it would succeed. Slosson would have beendriven into our plans. But--but now there's worse to come."
"So I guessed."
Mallinsbee's answer was sharp and dry.
"And it's the most important of your talk," he added a moment later."What happened--out there?"
Gordon's eyes took on a far-away expression as he gazed out of thewindow.
"I nearly killed David Slosson," he said simply. Then he added, "Iknew I'd have to do it before I'd finished."
His gaze came back to Mallinsbee's face. A fierce anger had made hisblue eyes stern and cold. Then he told the rancher of his findingHazel struggling furiously in the man's arms, and of her piteous cryfor help, and all that followed.
While he was still talking the girl's father had leaped from his seatand began pacing the little room like a caged wild beast. His cigarwas forgotten, and every now and then he paused abruptly as Gordon madesome definite point. His eyes were darkly furious, his nostrilsquivered, his great hands clenched at his sides, and in the end, whenthe story was told, he stood towering before the desk with a pair ofmurderous eyes shining down upon the younger man.
"God in heaven!" he cried furiously; "and he's still alive?"
Then he turned away abruptly. A revolver-belt was hanging on the wall,and he moved towards it. But Gordon was on his feet in a moment.
"That gun's mine, and--you can't have it!"
Gordon was standing in front of the weapon, facing the furious eyes ofthe father.
"Stand aside! I'm--going to kill him--now."
But Gordon made no movement.
"No," he said, with a stony calmness.
It was a painful moment. It was a moment full of threat and intensecrisis. One false move on Gordon's part, and the maddened father'sfury would be turned on him.
The younger man forced a smile to his eyes.
"You once said I could scrap, Mr. Mallinsbee. I promise you I scrappedas I never did before. That man hasn't one whole feature in his face,and if the hangman's rope had been drawn tight around his neck itcouldn't have done very much more damage than my fingers did.
I tellyou he's has his med'cine good and plenty. There's no need formore--that way. But we're going to hurt him. We're going to hurt himmore by outing him from this deal of ours than ever by killing him.We're going to stand at nothing now to--'out' him. Let's get our mindsfixed that way. If one plan don't succeed--another must."
Standing there eye to eye Gordon won his way. He saw with satisfactionthe fire in the old man's eyes slowly die down. Then he watched himreluctantly return to his chair.
It was not until the rancher had struck a match and relit his cigarthat Gordon ventured to return to his desk.
"You're right, boy," Mallinsbee said at last. "You're right--andyou've done right. If the whole scheme busts we--can't help it.But--but we'll out that--cur."
The hall porter at the Carbhoy Building was perturbed. He was morethan perturbed. He was ruffled out of his blatant superiority anddignity, and reduced to a condition when he could not state, with anydegree of accuracy, whether the Statue of Liberty was a symbol ofFreedom or a mere piece of cheap decoration for New York Harbor.
The precincts of the beautiful colored marble entrance hall over whichhe presided had been invaded, against all rules, by a woman whoobviously had no business there. Moreover, he had been powerless tostay the invasion. Also he had been forced to submit out of a sheersense of politeness to the sex, a politeness it was not his habit todisplay even towards his wife. Furthermore, like the veriestunderling, instead of the autocrat he really was, he had beenordered--_ordered_--to announce the lady's arrival to Mr. JamesCarbhoy, and forthwith conduct her to that holy of holies, which noother female, except the cleaner, had ever been permitted to enter. Itwas Mrs. James Carbhoy who had caused the deplorable upheaval.
But Mrs. James Carbhoy was in no mood to parley with any hall porter,however gorgeous his livery. She was in no mood to parley even withher husband. She was disturbed out of her customary condition ofpassive acquiescence. She was heartbroken, too, and ready to weepagainst any manly chest with which her head came into contact. It isdoubtful, even, if a Fifth Avenue policeman's chest would have beensafe from her attentions in that direction. And surely distress mustcertainly be overwhelming that would not shrink from such support.
James Carbhoy detected the signs the moment his door was opened, andhis wife tripped over the fringe of the splendid Turkey carpet andprecipitated herself into the great morocco arm-chair nearest to her,waving a bunch of letter-paper violently in his direction.
"I've been to the Inquiry Bureau, and had a man detailed right away togo and find the boy," she burst out at once. Then all her mother'sanxiety merged into an attack upon the man who silently rose from hisdesk and closed the door she had left open. "I don't know what to sayto you, James," she went on. "I can't just think why I'm sitting righthere in the presence of such a monster. Here you've driven our boyfrom the house. Maybe you've driven him to his death, or even worse,and I can't even get you to make an attempt to discover if he's aliveor--or dead. This letter came this morning," she went on, holding thepages aloft, lest he should escape their reproach. "And if he hasn'tgone and married some hussy there, out in some uncivilized region, Idon't know a thing. S'pose he's married a half-breed or--or a squaw,"she cried, her eyes rolling in horror at the bare idea. "It--it'll beyour fault--your doing. You're just a cruel monster, and if it wasn'tfor our Gracie's sake I'd--I'd get a divorce. You--you ought to beashamed, James Carbhoy. You ought--ought to be in--in prison, insteadof sitting there grinning like some fool image."
The millionaire leaned back in his chair wearily.
"Oh, read the letter, Mary. You make me tired."
"Tired? Letter, you call it," cried the excited woman. "I tell youit's--it's a lot of gibberish that no sane son of ours ever wrote. Oh!you're as bad as those men at the bureau. I made them read it,and--and they said he was a--bright boy. Bright, indeed! You listento this and you can judge for yourself--if you've any sense at all."
"DEAREST MUM:
"I haven't written you in weeks, which should tell you that I am quiteup to the average in my sense of filial duty. It should also tell youthat I _hope_ I am prospering both in health and in worldly matters. Isay 'hope' because nothing much seems certain in this world except theperfidy of human nature. It has been said that disappointment isresponsible for all the hope in the world, but I'd like to say righthere that that's just a sort of weak play on words which don't dojustice to the meanest intelligence. I am full of hope and haven't yetbeen disappointed. Not even in my conviction that human nature hassome good points, but bad points predominate, which makes you feelyou'd, generally speaking, like to kick it plenty.
"While I'm on the subject of human nature it would be wrong not todiscriminate between male and female human nature. Male can bedismissed under one plain heading: 'Self'--a heading which embracesevery unpleasant feature in life, from extreme moral rectitude, withits various branches of self-complacency, down to chewing tobacco, tome a symbol of all that is criminally filthy in life. Female humannature comes under a similar heading, only, in a woman's case, 'Self'is a combination of the two personalities, male and female. You see,'Self,' in female human nature, is not a complete proposition initself. Before it becomes complete there must be a man in the case,even if he be a disgrace to his sex. I will explain. You couldn'tentertain any feeling or purpose without the old Dad coming into yourfocus. But with man it's different. The only reason a woman comesinto his life at all is so that he can kick her out of it if she don'tdo just as he says and wants. I guess this sounds better to me writingfrom here than maybe it will to you in your parlor in New York. Butit's easier to say things when you feel yourself shorn of theartificialities of life.
"This is merely preliminary, leading up to two pieces of news I have tohand to you. The first is, I have discovered that woman is thegreatest proposition inspired by a creative Providence for the delightof man, but in business, unless specially trained, she's liable to falleven below the surface scum which includes the lesser grade of bipedcalled 'man.' The second is that man, generally, is a prettydisgusting brute, and I allow he deserves all he gets in life, even tolynching. Understand I am speaking generally, as a looker-on, whoseeyes are no longer blinded by the glamour of wealth in a big city andthe comforts of a luxurious home.
"I feel I've got to say right here that to me, apart from the foregoingobservations, woman is just the most wonderful thing in all thiswonderful world. Her perfections and graces are just sublime; herunderstanding of man is so sympathetic that it don't seem to me she'dneed more than two guesses to locate how many dollars he'd got in hispocket or the quality of the brain oozing out under his hat.
"I guess her eyes are just the dandiest things ever. Furthermore, whenthey happen to be hazel, they got a knack of boring holes right throughyou, and chasing around and finding the smallest spark of decency thatmay happen to be lying hidden in the general muck of a man's moralmakeup. They do more than that. I'd say there never was a man in thisworld who, under such circumstances, happens to become aware of somesuch spark, but wants to start right in and fan it into a big bonfireto burn up the refuse under which it's been so long secreted. That'show he's bound to feel--anyway, at first.
"A woman's just every sort of thing a man needs around him. It don'tseem a matter for worry if the sun-spots became a complete rash and itsold light went out altogether. That feller would still see thosewonderful eyes shining out of the darkness, giving him all the light heneeded in which to play foolish and think himself all sorts of a man.
"Guess when he'd worked overtime that way and sleep set him dreaminghe'd make pictures he couldn't paint in a year. There'd be every sortof peaceful delight in 'em. There'd be lambs, and children withoutclothes, and birds and flowers. And the lambs would bleat, and thechildren sing, and the birds flutter, and the flowers smell, and allthe world would be full of joy. Then he'd wake up. Maybe it would bedifferent then. You see, a man awake figures his woman needs to looklike the statue of Venus,
be bursting with the virtues of a first-classsaint, and possess the economical inspiration of a Chinee cook.
"In pursuance of these discoveries of mine I feel that maybe I've got awrong focus of our Gracie. Maybe when she gets sense, and sort offinds herself floating around in the divine beauties of womanhood, someescaped crank may chase along and figure she possesses some of thewonderful charms I've been talking about. Personally I wish our Graciewell, and am hoping for the best. Still, I feel whatever trouble shehas getting a husband I don't guess it'll end there--the trouble, Imean.
"To come to my second discovery, it has afforded me some pleasantmoments, as well as considerable disgust and anger. It may seemdifficult to associate these emotions without confusion. But were youto fully understand the situation you would realize that they could beassociated in one harmonious whole. With anger coming first, you findyourself in a frenzied state of elation, capable of achieving anything,from murder down to robbing the dead. It is a splendid feeling, andsaves one from the rust of good-natured ineptitude. Then come thepleasant moments, which may find themselves in extreme exertion and thegeneral exercise of muscles, and even, in some cases--brains. Disgustis the necessary mental attitude under reaction. This is how mydiscovery affected me. But I fancy the object through which I made mysecond discovery was probably affected otherwise. I can't just sayoffhand. Maybe I'll learn later, and be able to tell you.
"There is not a day passes but what I make discoveries of a more orless interesting nature. For instance, I've learned that there'snothing like three people hating one person to make for a bond offriendship between them. I'd say it's far more binding than marriagevows at the altar. This comes under the heading of 'more' interesting.Under the 'less' comes such things as--the only time that impulsiveaction justifies itself is when you're sure of winning out. I havegiven myself two examples of impulsive action only to-day. The one inwhich I have won out seems to have ruined the chances of the other.This is a confusion that doesn't seem to justify anything. Still, aphilosopher might be able to disentangle it.
"I should be glad if you would give the old Dad my best love, and tellhim that the figures representing one hundred thousand dollars grow insize with the advancing weeks. Nor can I tell how big they will appearby the end of six months. If they grow in my view at the present rate,by the end of six months it seems to me I'll need to walk aroundlooking through the wrong end of a telescope so as to get a place formy feet anywhere on this continent. However, as 'disappointment' hasnot yet appeared to create 'hope,' it is obvious that 'conviction'remains.
"I regret that time does not permit me to write more, so I will close.Any further news I have to give you I will embody in another letter.
"Your loving son, "GORDON.
"P.S.--I have been thinking a great deal about Gracie lately, she beingof the female sex. Of course, I could not compare her with a realwoman, but I feel, with a little judicious broadening of her mind, sayby travel or setting her out to earn her living, she might develop inthe right direction. It is a thought worth pondering. Such a processmight even have good results.
"G."
Mrs. James Carbhoy's angry and disgusted eyes were raised from herreading to confront her husband's amused smile.
"Well?" she demanded. "Is it sunstroke, or--or----?"
"That inquiry agent was a smart feller," the millionaire interrupted."Gordon surely is a--bright boy."
Mrs. Carbhoy's indignation leaped. And with its leap came another.She fairly bounced out of the chair she had occupied and hurled herselfat the mahogany door of the office.
"James Carbhoy, I shall see to this matter myself. I always knew youwere merely a money machine. Now I know you have neither heart norsense."
She flung open the door. Again she tripped over the fringe of thecarpet, and, with a smothered ejaculation, flew headlong in thedirection of the hall porter's stately presence.