The Max Brand Megapack (188 page)

The girl paid no attention to these remarks. She was sunk in a brown study.

“There’s something behind it all,” she said, more to herself than to the men. “Nick is proud as the devil himself. And I can’t imagine why he’d let Donnegan go. Oh, it might have been done if they’d met alone in the desert. But with the whole town looking on and waiting for Nick to clean up on Donnegan—no, it isn’t possible. There must have been a showdown of some kind.”

There was a grim little silence after this.

“Maybe there was,” said the Pedlar dryly. “Maybe there was a showdown—and the wind-up of it is that Nick comes home meek as a six-year-old broke down in front.”

She stared at him, first astonished, and then almost frightened.

“You mean that Nick may have taken water?”

The three, as one man, shrugged their shoulders, and met her glance with cold eyes.

“You fools!” cried the girl, springing to her feet. “He’d rather die!”

Joe Rix leaned forward, and to emphasize his point he stabbed one dirty forefinger into the fat palm of his other hand.

“You just start thinkin’ back,” he said solemnly, “and you’ll remember that Donnegan has done some pretty slick things.”

Lester added with a touch of contempt: “Like shootin’ down Landis one day and then sittin’ down and havin’ a nice long chat with you the next. I dunno how he does it.”

“That hunch of yours,” said the girl fiercely, “ought to be roped and branded—lie! Lester, don’t look at me like that. And if you think Nick has lost his grip on things you’re dead wrong. Step light, Lester—and the rest of you. Or Nick may hear you walk—and think.”

She flung out of the room and raced up the stairs to Lord Nick’s room. There was an interval without response after her first knock. But when she rapped again he called out to know who was there. At her answer she heard his heavy stride cross the room, and the door opened slowly. His face, as she looked up to it, was so changed that she hardly knew him. His hair was unkempt, on end, where he had sat with his fingers thrust into it, buried in thought. And the marks of his palms were red upon his forehead.

“Nick,” she whispered, frightened, “what is it?”

He looked down half fiercely, half sadly at her. And though his lips parted they closed again before he spoke. Fear jumped coldly in Nelly Lebrun.

“Did Donnegan—” she pleaded, white-faced. “Did he—”

“Did he bluff me out?” finished Nick. “No, he didn’t. That’s what everybody’ll say. I know it, don’t I? And that’s why I’m staying here by myself, because the first fool that looks at me with a question in his face, why—I’ll break him in two.”

She pressed close to him, more frightened than before. That Lord Nick should have been driven to defend himself with words was almost too much for credence.

“You know I don’t believe it, Nick? You know that I’m not doubting you?”

But he brushed her hands roughly away.

“You want to know what it’s all about? Then go over to—well, to Milligan’s. Donnegan will be there. He’ll explain things to you, I guess. He wants to see you. And maybe I’ll come over later and join you.”

Seeing Lord Nick before her, so shaken, so gray of face, so dull of eye, she pictured Donnegan as a devil in human form, cunning, resistless.

“Nick, dear—” she pleaded.

He closed the door in her face, and she heard his heavy step go back across the room. In some mysterious manner she felt the Promethean fire had been stolen from Lord Nick, and Donnegan’s was the hand that had robbed him of it.

CHAPTER 36

It was fear that Nelly Lebrun felt first of all. It
was fear because the impossible had happened and the immovable object had been at last moved. Going back to her own room, the record of Lord Nick flashed across her mind; one long series of thrilling deeds. He had been a great and widely known figure on the mountain desert while she herself was no more than a girl. When she first met him she had been prepared for the sight of a firebreathing monster; and she had never quite recovered from the first thrill of finding him not devil but man.

Quite oddly, now that there seemed another man as powerful as Lord Nick or even more terrible, she felt for the big man more tenderly than ever; for like all women, there was a corner of her heart into which she wished to receive a thing she could cherish and protect. Lord Nick, the invincible, had seemed without any real need of other human beings. His love for her had seemed unreal because his need of her seemed a superficial thing. Now that he was in sorrow and defeat she suddenly visualized a Lord Nick to whom she could truly be a helpmate. Tears came to her eyes at the thought.

Yet, very contradictorily and very humanly, the moment she was in her room she began preparing her toilet for that evening at Lebrun’s. Let no one think that she was already preparing to cast Lord Nick away and turn to the new star in the sky of the mountain desert. By no means. No doubt her own heart was not quite clear to Nelly. Indeed, she put on her most lovely gown with a desire for revenge. If Lord Nick had been humbled by this singular Donnegan, would it not be a perfect revenge to bring Donnegan himself to her feet? Would it not be a joy to see him turn pale under her smile, and then, when he was well-nigh on his knees, spurn the love which he offered her?

She set her teeth and her eyes gleamed with the thought. But nevertheless she went on lavishing care in the preparation for that night.

As she visioned the scene, the many curious eyes that watched her with Donnegan; the keen envy in the faces of the women; the cold watchfulness of the men, were what she pictured.

In a way she almost regretted that she was admired by such fighting men, Landis, Lord Nick, and now Donnegan, who frightened away the rank and file of other would-be admirers. But it was a pang which she could readily control and subdue.

To tell the truth the rest of the day dragged through a weary length. At the dinner table her father leaned to her and talked in his usual murmuring voice which could reach her own ear and no other by any chance.

“Nelly, there’s going to be the devil to pay around The Corner. You know why. Now, be a good girl and wise girl and play your cards. Donnegan is losing his head; he’s losing it over you. So play your cards.”

“Turn down Nick and take up Donnegan?” she asked coldly.

“I’ve said enough already,” said her father, and would not speak again. But it was easy to see that he already felt Lord Nick’s star to be past its full glory.

Afterward, Lebrun himself took his daughter over to Milligan’s and left her under the care of the dance-hall proprietor.

“I’m waiting for someone,” said Nelly, and Milligan sat willingly at her table and made talk. He was like the rest of The Corner—full of the subject of the strange encounter between Lord Nick and Donnegan. What had Donnegan done to the big man? Nelly merely smiled and said they would all know in time: one thing was certain—Lord Nick had not taken water. But at this Milligan smiled behind his hand.

Ten minutes later there was that stir which announced the arrival of some public figures; and Donnegan with big George behind him came into the room. This evening he went straight to the table to Nelly Lebrun. Milligan, a little uneasy, rose. But Donnegan was gravely polite and regretted that he had interrupted.

“I have only come to ask you for five minutes of your time,” he said to the girl.

She was about to put him off merely to make sure of her hold over him, but something she saw in his face fascinated her. She could not play her game. Milligan had slipped away before she knew it, and Donnegan was in his place at the table. He was as much changed as Lord Nick, she thought. Not that his clothes were less carefully arranged than ever, but in the compression of his lips and something behind his eyes she felt the difference. She would have given a great deal indeed to have learned what went on behind the door of Donnegan’s shack when Lord Nick was there.

“Last time you asked for one minute and stayed half an hour,” she said. “This time it’s five minutes.”

No matter what was on his mind he was able to answer fully as lightly.

“When I talk about myself, I’m always long-winded.”

“Tonight it’s someone else?”

“Yes.”

She was, being a woman, intensely disappointed, but her smile was as bright as ever.

“Of course I’m listening.”

“You remember what I told you of Landis and the girl on the hill?”

“She seems to stick in your thoughts, Mr. Donnegan.”

“Yes, she’s a lovely child.”

And by his frankness he very cunningly disarmed her. Even if he had hesitated an instant she would have been on the track of the truth, but he had foreseen the question and his reply came back instantly.

He added: “Also, what I say has to do with Lord Nick.”

“Ah,” said the girl a little coldly.

Donnegan went on. He had chosen frankness to be his role and he played it to the full.

“It is a rather wonderful story,” he went on. “You know that Lord Nick went up the hill for Landis? And The Corner was standing around waiting for him to bring the youngster down?”

“Of course.”

“There was only one obstacle—which you had so kindly removed—myself.”

“For your own sake, Mr. Donnegan.”

“Ah, don’t you suppose that I know?” And his voice touched her. “He came to kill me. And no doubt he could have done so.”

Such frankness shocked her into a new attention.

Perhaps Donnegan overdid his part a little at this point, for in her heart of hearts she knew that the little man would a thousand times rather die than give way to any living man.

“But I threw my case bodily before him—the girl—her love for Landis—and the fear which revolved around your own unruly eyes, you know, if he were sent back to your father’s house. I placed it all before him. At first he was for fighting at once. But the story appealed to him. He pitied the girl. And in the end he decided to let the matter be judged by a third person. He suggested a man. But I know that a man would see in my attitude nothing but foolishness. No man could have appreciated the position of that girl on the hill. I myself named another referee—yourself.”

She gasped.

“And so I have come to place the question before you, because I know that you will decide honestly.”

“Then I shall be honest,” said the girl.

She was thinking: Why not have Landis back? It would keep the three men revolving around her. Landis on his feet and well would have been nothing; either of these men would have killed him. But Landis sick she might balance in turn against them both. Nelly had the instincts of a fencer; she loved balance.

But Donnegan was heaping up his effects. For by the shadow in her eyes he well knew what was passing through her mind, and he dared not let her speak too quickly.

“There is more hanging upon it. In the first place, if Landis is left with the girl it gives the colonel a chance to work on him, and like as not the colonel will get the young fool to sign away the mines to him—frighten him, you see, though I’ve made sure that the colonel will not actually harm him.”

“How have you made sure? They say the colonel is a devil.”

“I have spoken with him. The colonel is not altogether without sensibility to fear.”

She caught the glint in the little man’s eye and she believed.

“So much for that. Landis is safe, but his money may not be. Another thing still hangs upon your decision. Lord Nick wanted to know why I trusted to you? Because I felt you were honest. Why did I feel that? There was nothing to do. Besides, how could I conceal myself from such a man? I spoke frankly and told him that I trusted you because I love you.”

She closed her hand hard on the edge of the table to steady herself.

“And he made no move at you?”

“He restrained himself.”

“Lord Nick?” gasped the incredulous girl.

“He is a gentleman,” said Donnegan with a singular pride which she could not understand.

He went on: “And unfortunately I fear that if you decide in favor of my side of the argument, I fear that Lord Nick will feel that you—that you—”

He was apparently unable to complete his sentence.

“He will feel that you no longer care for him,” said Donnegan at length.

The girl pondered him with cloudy eyes.

“What is behind all this frankness?” she asked coldly.

“I shall tell you. Hopelessness is behind it. Last night I poured my heart at your feet. And I had hope. Today I have seen Lord Nick and I no longer hope.”

“Ah?”

“He is worthy of a lovely woman’s affection; and I—” He called her attention to himself with a deprecatory gesture.

“Do you ask me to hurt him like this?” said the girl. “His pride is the pride of the fiend. Love me? He would hate me!”

“It might be true. Still I know you would risk it, because—” he paused.

“Well?” asked the girl, whispering in her excitement.

“Because you are a lady.”

He bowed to her.

“Because you are fair; because you are honest, Nelly Lebrun. Personally I think that you can win Lord Nick back with one minute of smiling. But you might not. You might alienate him forever. It will be clumsy to explain to him that you were influenced not by me, but by justice. He will make it a personal matter, whereas you and I know that it is only the right that you are seeing.”

She propped her chin on the tips of her fingers, and her arm was a thing of grace. For the last moments that clouded expression had not cleared.

“If I only could read your mind,” she murmured now. “There is something behind it all.”

“I shall tell you what it is. It is the restraint that has fallen upon me. It is because I wish to lean closer to you across the table and speak to you of things which are at the other end of the world from Landis and the other girl. It is because I have to keep my hands gripped hard to control myself. Because, though I have given up hope, I would follow a forlorn chance, a lost cause, and tell you again and again that I love you, Nelly Lebrun!”

He had half lowered his eyes as he spoke; he had called up a vision, and the face of Lou Macon hovered dimly between him and Nelly Lebrun. If all that he spoke was a lie, let him be forgiven for it; it was the golden-haired girl whom he addressed, and it was she who gave the tremor and the fiber to his voice. And after all was he not pleading for her happiness as he believed?