Read The Trail of the Axe: A Story of Red Sand Valley Page 25


  CHAPTER XXV

  MASON'S PRISONER

  In a few minutes Dave returned from the barn. He had chosen to attendto the horses himself, for his own reasons preferring not to rouse theman who looked after his horses.

  His thoughts were busy while he was thus occupied. As yet he had noidea of what had actually occurred in the camps, but Mason's presenceat such a time, the identity of his prisoner, the horses' condition ofexhaustion; these things warned him of the gravity of the situation,and something of the possibilities. By the time he reentered the officehe was prepared for anything his "camp-boss" might have to tell him.

  He noted the faces of the two men carefully. In Mason he saw theweariness of a long nervous strain. His broad face was drawn, his eyeswere sunken and deeply shadowed. From head to foot he was powdered withthe red dust of the trail. Dave was accustomed to being well served,but he felt that this man had been serving him to something very nearthe limits of his endurance. Jim Truscott's face afforded him thekeenest interest. It was healthier looking than he had seen it sincehis first return to Malkern. The bloated puffiness, the hall-mark ofhis persistent debauches, had almost entirely gone. The health producedby open-air and spare feeding showed in the tan of his skin. His eyeswere clear, and though he, too, looked worn out, there was less ofexhaustion about him than his captor. On the other hand there was noneof Mason's fearless honesty in his expression. There was a truculentdefiance in his eyes, a furious scowl in the drawn brows. There was anervousness in the loose, weak mouth. His wrists were lashed securelytogether by a rope which had been applied with scant mercy. Dave's eyestook all these things in, and he pointed to the latter as he addressedhimself to his overseer.

  "Better loose that," he said, in that even voice which gave away solittle of his real feelings. "Guess you're both pretty near done in,"he went on, as Mason unfastened the knots. "Got down here in a hurry?"

  "Yes; got any whiskey?"

  Mason had finished removing the prisoner's bonds when he spoke.

  "Brandy."

  "That'll do."

  The overseer laughed as men will laugh when they are least inclined to.Dave poured out long drinks and handed them to the two men. Mason drankhis down at a gulp, but Truscott pushed his aside without a word.

  "There's a deal to tell," said the overseer, as he set his glass down.

  "There's some hours to daylight," Dave replied. "Go right ahead, andtake your own time."

  The other let his tired eyes rest on his prisoner for some moments andremained silent. He was considering how best to tell his story.Suddenly he looked up.

  "The camp's on 'strike,'" he said.

  "Ah!" And it was Dave's eyes that fell upon Jim Truscott now.

  There was a world of significance in that ejaculation and theexpression that leapt to the lumberman's eyes. It was a desperate blowthe overseer had dealt him; but it was a blow that did not crush. Itcarried with it a complete explanation. And that explanation was ofsomething he understood and had power to deal with.

  "And--this?" Dave nodded in Jim's direction.

  "Is one of the leaders."

  "Ah!"

  Again came Dave's meaning ejaculation. Then he settled himself in hischair and prepared to listen.

  "Get going," he said; but he felt that he required little moreexplanation.

  Mason began his story by inquiries about his own letters to hisemployer, and learned that none of them had been received during thelast few weeks, and he gave a similar reply to Dave's inquiries as tothe fate of his letters to the camp. Then he went on to the particularsof the strike movement, from the first appearance of unrest to thefinal moment when it became an accomplished fact. He told him how thechance "hands" he had been forced to take on had been the disturbingelement, and these, he was now convinced, had for some reason beeninspired. He told of that visit on the Sunday night to the sutler'sstore, he told of his narrow escape, and of his shooting down one ofthe men, and the fortunate capture, made with the timely assistance ofTom Chepstow, of his prisoner. Dave listened attentively, but his eyeswere always on Truscott, and at the finish of the long story hiscommendation was less hearty than one might have expected.

  "You've made good, Mason, an' I'm obliged," he said, after a prolongedsilence. "Say," he went on, glancing at his watch, "there's just fourand a half hours to the time we start back for the camp. Go over toDawson's shack and get a shake-down. Get what sleep you can. I'll callyou in time. Meanwhile I'll see to this fellow," he added, indicatingthe prisoner. "We'll have a heap of time for talk on the way to thecamps."

  The overseer's eyes lit.

  "Are you going up to the camps?" he inquired eagerly.

  "Yes, surely. We'll have to straighten this out." Then a sudden thoughtflashed through his mind. "There's the parson and----!"

  Mason nodded.

  "Yes. They've got my shack. There's plenty of arms and ammunition. Ileft parson to hurry back to----"

  "He wasn't with her when you left?"

  There was a sudden, fierce light in Dave's eyes. Mason shook his head,and something of the other's apprehension was in his voice as hereplied--

  "He was going back there."

  Dave's eyes were fiercely riveted upon Truscott's face.

  "We'll start earlier. Get an hour's sleep."

  There was no misunderstanding his employer's tone. In fact, for thefirst time since he had left the camp Mason realized the full danger ofthose two he had left behind him. But he knew he had done the onlypossible thing in the circumstances, and besides, his presence therewould have added to their danger. Still, as he left the office to seekthe brief rest for which he was longing, he was not without a qualm ofconscience which his honest judgment told him he was not entitled to.

  Dave closed the door carefully behind him. Then he came back to hischair, and for some moments surveyed his prisoner in silence. Truscottstirred uneasily under the cold regard. Then he looked up, and all hisbitter hatred for his one-time friend shone in the defiant stare hegave him.

  "I've tried to understand, but I can't," Dave said at last, as thoughhis words were the result of long speculation. "It is so far beyond methat---- This is your doing, all your doing. It's nothing to do withthose--those 'scabs.' You, and you alone have brought about thisstrike. First you pay a man to wreck my mills--you even try to kill me.Now you do this. You have thought it all out with devilish cunning.There is nothing that could ruin me so surely as this strike. You meanto wreck me; nor do you care who goes down in the crash. You havealready slain one man in your villainy. For that you stand brandeda--murderer. God alone knows what death and destruction this strike inthe hills may bring about. And all of it is aimed at me. Why? In God'sname, why?"

  Dave's manner was that of cold argument. He displayed none of thepassion that really stirred him. He longed to take this man in his twogreat hands, and crush the mean life out of him. But nothing of suchfeeling was allowed to show itself. He began to fill his pipe. He didnot want to smoke, but it gave his hands something to do, and just thenhis hands demanded something to do.

  His words elicited no reply. Truscott's eyes were upon the handsfumbling at the bowl of the pipe. He was not really observing them. Hewas wrapped in his own thoughts, and his eyes simply fixed themselveson the only moving thing in the room. Dave put his pipe in his mouthand refolded his pouch. Presently he went on speaking, and his tonebecame warmer, and his words more rapid.

  "There was a time when you were a man, a decent, honest, happy man; ayoungster with all the world before you. At that time I did all in mypower to help you. You remember? You ran that mill. It was a matter ofhanging on and waiting till fortune turned your way for success andprosperity to come. Then one day you came to me; you and she. It wasdecided that you should go away--to seek your fortune elsewhere. Weshook hands. Do you remember? You left her in my care. All this seemslike yesterday. I promised you then that always, in the name offriendship, you could command me. Your trust I carried out to theletter, and all I promised I was ready to ful
fil. Need I remind you ofwhat has happened since? Need I draw a picture of the drunkard, gamblerwho returned to Malkern, of the insults you have put upon her,everybody? Of her patience and loyalty? Of the manner in which youfinally made it impossible for her to marry you? It is not necessary.You know it all--if you are a sane man, which I am beginning to doubt.And now--now why are you doing all this? I intend to know. I mean todrag it out of you before you leave this room!"

  He had risen from his seat and stood before his captive with one handoutstretched in his direction, grasping his pipe by the bowl. Hiscalmness had gone, a passion of angry protest surged through his veins.He was no longer the cool, clear-headed master of the mills, but a manswept by a fury of resentment at the injustice, the wanton, devilish,mischievous injustice of one whom he had always befriended. Friendshipwas gone and in its place there burned the human desire for retaliation.

  Truscott's introspective stare changed to a wicked laugh. It wasforced, and had for its object the intention of goading the other. Davecalmed immediately. He understood that laugh in time, and so it failedin its purpose and died out. In its place the man's face darkened. Itwas he who fell a victim to his own intention. All his hatred for hisone-time friend rose within him suddenly, and swept him on its burningtide.

  "You stand there preaching! You!" he cried with a ferocity so suddenthat it became appalling. "You dare to preach to me of honesty, offriendship, of promises fulfilled? You? God, it makes me boil to hearyou! If ever there was a traitor to friendship in this world it is you.I came back to marry Betty. Why else should I come back? And Ifind--what? She is changed. You have seen to that. For a time she keptup the pretense of our engagement. Then she seized upon the firstexcuse to break it. Why? For you! Oh, your trust was well fulfilled.You lost no time in my absence. Who was it I found her with on myreturn? You! Who was present to give her courage and support when sherefused to marry me? You! Do you think I haven't seen the way it hasall been worked? You have secured her uncle's and aunt's support. You!You have taken her from me! You! And you preach friendship and honestyto me. God, but you're a liar and a thief!"

  For a moment the lumberman's fury leapt and in another he would havecrushed the man's life out of him, but, in a flash, his whole moodchanged. The accusations were so absurd even from his own point ofview. Could it be? For a moment he believed that the loss of Betty hadunhinged Truscott's mind. But the thought passed, and he grew as calmnow as a moment before he had been furious, and an icy sternnesschilled him through and through. There was no longer a vestige of pityin him for his accuser. He sat down and lit his pipe, his heavy faceset with the iron that had entered his soul.

  "You have lied to yourself until you have come to believe it," he saidsternly. "You have lied because it is your nature to lie, because youhave not an honest thought in your mind. I'll not answer youraccusations, because they are so hopelessly absurd; but I'll tell youwhat I intend to do."

  "You won't answer them because you cannot deny them!" Truscott broke infuriously. "They are true, and you know it. You have stolen her fromme. You! Oh, God, I hate you!"

  His voice rose to a strident shout and Dave raised a warning hand.

  "Keep quiet!" he commanded coldly. "I have listened to you, and now youshall listen to me."

  The fire in the other's eyes still shone luridly, but he became silentunder the coldly compelling manner, while, like a savage beast, hecrouched in his chair ready to break out into passionate protest at theleast chance.

  "I don't know yet how far things have gone in the way you wish them togo up there in the hills, but you have found the way to accomplish yourend in ruining me. If the strike continues I tell you frankly you willhave done what you set out to do. My resources are taxed now to thelimit. That will rejoice you."

  Truscott grinned savagely as he sprang in with his retort.

  "The strike is thoroughly established, and there are those up therewho'll see it through. Yes, yes, my friend, it is my doing; all mydoing, and it cannot fail me now. The money I took from you for themill I laid out well. I laid out more than that--practically all I hadin the world. Oh, I spared nothing; I had no intention of failing. Iwould give even my life to ruin you!"

  "Don't be too sure you may not yet have to pay that price," Dave saidgrimly.

  "Willingly."

  Truscott's whole manner carried conviction. Dave read in the suddenclipping of his teeth, the deadly light of his eyes, the clenching ofhis hands that he meant it.

  "I'll ruin you even if I die for it, but I'll see you ruined first,"cried Truscott.

  "You have miscalculated one thing, Truscott," Dave said slowly. "Youhave forgotten that you are in my power and a captive. However, we'lllet that go for the moment. I promise you you shall never live to seeme suffer in the way you hope. You shall not even be aware of it. Icare nothing for the ruin you hope for, so far as I am personallyconcerned, but I do care for other reasons. In dragging me down youwill drag Malkern down, too. You will ruin many others. You will eveninvolve Betty in the crash, for she, like the rest of us, is bound upin Malkern. And in this you will hurt me--hurt me as in your wildestdreams you never expected to do." Then he leant forward in his seat,and a subtle, deliberate intensity, more deadly for the very frigidityof his tone was in his whole attitude. His hands were outstretchedtoward his captive, his fingers were extended and bent at the jointslike talons ready to clutch and rend their prey. "Now, I tell youthis," he went on, "as surely as harm comes to Betty up in that camp,through any doings of yours, as surely as ruin through your agencydescends upon this valley, as Almighty God is my Judge I will tear thelife out of you with my own two hands."

  For a moment Truscott's eyes supported the frigid glare of Dave's. Fora moment he had it in his mind to fling defiance at him. Then his eyesshifted and he looked away, and defiance died out of his mind. Thestronger nature shook the weaker, and an involuntary shudder ofapprehension slowly crept over him. Dave stirred to the pitch ofthreatening deliberate slaughter had been beyond his imagination. Nowthat he saw it the sight was not pleasant.

  Suddenly the lumberman sprang to his feet

  "We'll start right away," he said, in his usual voice.

  "We?" The monosyllabic question sprang from Truscott's lips in a suddenaccess of fear.

  "Yes. We. Mason, you, and me."