章节正文
"You're too impatient," concluded Longstreth. "You'll ruin any
chance of happiness if you rush Ray. She might be won. If you
told her who I am she'd hate you for ever. She might marry you
to save me, but she'd hate you. That isn't the way. Wait. Play
for time. Be different with her. Cut out your drinking. She
despises that. Let's plan to sell out here--stock, ranch,
property--and leave the country. Then you'd have a show with
her."
"I told you we've got to stick," growled Lawson. "The gang
won't stand for our going. It can't be done unless you want to
sacrifice everything."
"You mean double-cross the men? Go without their knowing? Leave
them here to face whatever comes?"
"I mean just that."
"I'm bad enough, but not that bad," returned Longstreth. "If I
can't get the gang to let me off, I'll stay and face the music.
All the same, Lawson, did it ever strike you that most of the
deals the last few years have been YOURS?"
"Yes. If I hadn't rung them in there wouldn't have been any.
You've had cold feet, and especially since this ranger has been
here."
"Well, call it cold feet if you like. But I call it sense. We
reached our limit long ago. We began by rustling a few cattle--
at a time when rustling was laughed at. But as our greed grew
so did our boldness. Then came the gang, the regular trips, the
one thing and another till, before we knew it--before I knew
it--we had shady deals, holdups, and MURDERS on our record.
Then we HAD to go on. Too late to turn back!"
"I reckon we've all said that. None of the gang wants to quit.
They all think, and I think, we can't be touched. We may be
blamed, but nothing can be proved. We're too strong."
"There's where you're dead wrong," rejoined Longstreth,
emphatically. "I imagined that once, not long ago. I was
bullheaded. Who would ever connect Granger Longstreth with a
rustler gang? I've changed my mind. I've begun to think. I've
reasoned out things. We're crooked, and we can't last. It's the
nature of life, even here, for conditions to grow better. The
wise deal for us would be to divide equally and leave the
country, all of us."
"But you and I have all the stock--all the gain," protested
Lawson.
"I'll split mine."
"I won't--that settles that," added Lawson, instantly.
Longstreth spread wide his hands as if it was useless to try to
convince this man. Talking had not increased his calmness, and
he now showed more than impatience. A dull glint gleamed deep
in his eyes.
"Your stock and property will last a long time--do you lots of
good when this ranger--"
"Bah!" hoarsely" target="_blank" title="ad.嘶哑地">hoarsely croaked Lawson. The ranger's name was a match
applied to powder. "Haven't I told you he'd be dead soon--any
time--same as Laramie is?"
"Yes, you mentioned the--the supposition," replied Longstreth,
sarcastically. "I inquired, too, just how that very desired
event was to be brought about."
"The gang will lay him out."
"Bah!" retorted Longstreth, in turn. He laughed contemptuously.
"Floyd, don't be a fool. You've been on the border for ten
years. You've packed a gun and you've used it. You've been with
rustlers when they killed their men. You've been present at
many fights. But you never in all that time saw a man like this
ranger. You haven't got sense enough to see him right if you
had a chance. Neither have any of you. The only way to get rid
of him is for the gang to draw on him, all at once. Then he's
going to drop some of them."
"Longstreth, you say that like a man who wouldn't care much if
he did drop some of them," declared Lawson; and now he was
sarcastic.
"To tell you the truth, I wouldn't," returned the other,
bluntly. "I'm pretty sick of this mess."
Lawson cursed in amazement. His emotions were all out of
proportion to his intelligence. He was not at all quick-witted.
Duane had never seen a vainer or more arrogant man.
"Longstreth, I don't like your talk," he said.
"If you don't like the way I talk you know what you can do,"
replied Longstreth, quickly. He stood up then, cool and quiet,
with flash of eyes and set of lips that told Duane he was
dangerous.
"Well, after all, that's neither here nor there," went on
Lawson, unconsciously cowed by the other. "The thing is, do I
get the girl?"
"Not by any means except her consent."
"You'll not make her marry me?"
"No. No," replied Longstreth, his voice still cold,
low-pitched.
"All right. Then I'll make her."
Evidently Longstreth understood the man before him so well that
he wasted no more words. Duane knew what Lawson never dreamed
of, and that was that Longstreth had a gun somewhere within
reach and meant to use it. Then heavy footsteps sounded outside
tramping upon the porch. Duane might have been mistaken, but he
believed those footsteps saved Lawson's life.
"There they are," said Lawson, and he opened the door.
Five masked men entered. They all wore coats hiding any
weapons. A big man with burly shoulders shook hands with
Longstreth, and the others stood back.
The atmosphere of that room had changed. Lawson might have been
a nonentity for all he counted. Longstreth was another man--a
stranger to Duane. If he had entertained a hope of freeing
himself from this band, of getting away to a safer country, he
abandoned it at the very sight of these men. There was power
here, and he was bound.
The big man spoke in low, hoarse whispers, and at this all the
others gathered around him close to the table. There were
evidently some signs of membership not plain to Duane. Then all
the heads were bent over the table. Low voices spoke, queried,
answered, argued. By straining his ears Duane caught a word
here and there. They were planning, and they were brief. Duane
gathered they were to have a rendezvous at or near Ord.
Then the big man, who evidently was the leader of the present
convention, got up to depart. He went as swiftly as he had
come, and was followed by his comrades. Longstreth prepared for
a quiet smoke. Lawson seemed uncommunicative and unsociable. He
smoked fiercely and drank continually. All at once he
straightened up as if listening.
"What's that?" he called, suddenly.
Duane's strained ears were pervaded by a slight rustling sound.
"Must be a rat," replied Longstreth.
The rustle became a rattle.
"Sounds like a rattlesnake to me," said Lawson.
Longstreth got up from the table and peered round the room.
Just at that instant Duane felt an almost inappreciable
movement of the adobe wall which supported him. He could
scarcely credit his senses. But the rattle inside Longstreth's
room was mingling with little dull thuds of falling dirt. The
adobe wall, merely dried mud, was crumbling. Duane distinctly
felt a tremor pass through it. Then the blood gushed back to
his heart.
"What in the hell!" exclaimed Longstreth.
"I smell dust," said Lawson, sharply.
That was the signal for Duane to drop down from his perch, yet
despite his care he made a noise.
"Did you hear a step?" queried Longstreth.
No one answered. But a heavy piece of the adobe wall fell with
a thud. Duane heard it crack, felt it shake.
"There's somebody between the walls!" thundered Longstreth.
Then a section of the wall fell inward with a crash. Duane
began to squeeze his body through the narrow passage toward the
patio.
"Hear him!" yelled Lawson. "This side!"
"No, he's going that way," yelled Longstreth.
The tramp of heavy boots lent Duane the strength of
desperation. He was not shirking a fight, but to be cornered
like a trapped coyote was another matter. He almost tore his
clothes off in that passage. The dust nearly stifled him. When
he burst into the patio it was not a single instant too soon.
But one deep gasp of breath revived him and he was up, gun in
hand, running for the outlet into the court. Thumping footsteps
turned him back. While there was a chance to get away he did
not want to fight. He thought he heard someone running into the
patio from the other end. He stole along, and coming to a door,
without any idea of where it might lead, he softly pushed it
open a little way and slipped in.
CHAPTER XX
A low cry greeted Duane. The room was light. He saw Ray
Longstreth sitting on her bed in her dressing-gown. With a
warninggesture to her to be silent he turned to close the
door. It was a heavy door without bolt or bar, and when Duane
had shut it he felt safe only for the moment. Then he gazed
around the room. There was one window with blind closely drawn.
He listened and seemed to hear footsteps retreating, dying
away.
Then Duane turned to Miss Longstreth. She had slipped off the
bed, half to her knees, and was holding out trembling hands.
She was as white as the pillow on her bed. She was terribly
frightened. Again with warning hand commanding silence, Duane
stepped softly forward, meaning to reassure her.
"Oh!" she whispered, wildly; and Duane thought she was going to
faint. When he got close and looked into her eyes he understood
the strange, dark expression in them. She was terrified because
she believed he meant to kill her, or do worse, probably worse.
Duane realized he must have looked pretty hard and fierce
bursting into her room with that big gun in hand.
The way she searched Duane's face with doubtful, fearful eyes
hurt him.
"Listen. I didn't know this was your room. I came here to get
away--to save my life. I was pursued. I was spying on--on your
father and his men. They heard me, but did not see me. They
don't know who was listening. They're after me now."
Her eyes changed from blank gulfs to dilating, shadowing.
quickening windows of thought.
Then she stood up and faced Duane with the fire and
intelligence of a woman in her eyes.
"Tell me now. You were spying on my father?"
Briefly Duane told her what had happened before he entered her
room, not omitting a terse word as to the character of the men
he had watched.
"My God! So it's that? I knew something was terribly wrong
here--with him--with the place--the people. And right off I
hated Floyd Lawson. Oh, it'll kill me if--if--It's so much
worse than I dreamed. What shall I do?"
The sound of soft steps somewhere near distracted Duane's
attention, reminded him of her peril, and now, what counted
more with him, made clear the probability of being discovered
in her room.
"I'll have to get out of here," whispered Duane.
"Wait," she replied. "Didn't you say they were hunting for
you?"
"They sure are," he returned, grimly.
"Oh, then you mustn't go. They might shoot you before you got
away. Stay. If we hear them you can hide. I'll turn out the
chance of happiness if you rush Ray. She might be won. If you
told her who I am she'd hate you for ever. She might marry you
to save me, but she'd hate you. That isn't the way. Wait. Play
for time. Be different with her. Cut out your drinking. She
despises that. Let's plan to sell out here--stock, ranch,
property--and leave the country. Then you'd have a show with
her."
"I told you we've got to stick," growled Lawson. "The gang
won't stand for our going. It can't be done unless you want to
sacrifice everything."
"You mean double-cross the men? Go without their knowing? Leave
them here to face whatever comes?"
"I mean just that."
"I'm bad enough, but not that bad," returned Longstreth. "If I
can't get the gang to let me off, I'll stay and face the music.
All the same, Lawson, did it ever strike you that most of the
deals the last few years have been YOURS?"
"Yes. If I hadn't rung them in there wouldn't have been any.
You've had cold feet, and especially since this ranger has been
here."
"Well, call it cold feet if you like. But I call it sense. We
reached our limit long ago. We began by rustling a few cattle--
at a time when rustling was laughed at. But as our greed grew
so did our boldness. Then came the gang, the regular trips, the
one thing and another till, before we knew it--before I knew
it--we had shady deals, holdups, and MURDERS on our record.
Then we HAD to go on. Too late to turn back!"
"I reckon we've all said that. None of the gang wants to quit.
They all think, and I think, we can't be touched. We may be
blamed, but nothing can be proved. We're too strong."
"There's where you're dead wrong," rejoined Longstreth,
emphatically. "I imagined that once, not long ago. I was
bullheaded. Who would ever connect Granger Longstreth with a
rustler gang? I've changed my mind. I've begun to think. I've
reasoned out things. We're crooked, and we can't last. It's the
nature of life, even here, for conditions to grow better. The
wise deal for us would be to divide equally and leave the
country, all of us."
"But you and I have all the stock--all the gain," protested
Lawson.
"I'll split mine."
"I won't--that settles that," added Lawson, instantly.
Longstreth spread wide his hands as if it was useless to try to
convince this man. Talking had not increased his calmness, and
he now showed more than impatience. A dull glint gleamed deep
in his eyes.
"Your stock and property will last a long time--do you lots of
good when this ranger--"
"Bah!" hoarsely" target="_blank" title="ad.嘶哑地">hoarsely croaked Lawson. The ranger's name was a match
applied to powder. "Haven't I told you he'd be dead soon--any
time--same as Laramie is?"
"Yes, you mentioned the--the supposition," replied Longstreth,
sarcastically. "I inquired, too, just how that very desired
event was to be brought about."
"The gang will lay him out."
"Bah!" retorted Longstreth, in turn. He laughed contemptuously.
"Floyd, don't be a fool. You've been on the border for ten
years. You've packed a gun and you've used it. You've been with
rustlers when they killed their men. You've been present at
many fights. But you never in all that time saw a man like this
ranger. You haven't got sense enough to see him right if you
had a chance. Neither have any of you. The only way to get rid
of him is for the gang to draw on him, all at once. Then he's
going to drop some of them."
"Longstreth, you say that like a man who wouldn't care much if
he did drop some of them," declared Lawson; and now he was
sarcastic.
"To tell you the truth, I wouldn't," returned the other,
bluntly. "I'm pretty sick of this mess."
Lawson cursed in amazement. His emotions were all out of
proportion to his intelligence. He was not at all quick-witted.
Duane had never seen a vainer or more arrogant man.
"Longstreth, I don't like your talk," he said.
"If you don't like the way I talk you know what you can do,"
replied Longstreth, quickly. He stood up then, cool and quiet,
with flash of eyes and set of lips that told Duane he was
dangerous.
"Well, after all, that's neither here nor there," went on
Lawson, unconsciously cowed by the other. "The thing is, do I
get the girl?"
"Not by any means except her consent."
"You'll not make her marry me?"
"No. No," replied Longstreth, his voice still cold,
low-pitched.
"All right. Then I'll make her."
Evidently Longstreth understood the man before him so well that
he wasted no more words. Duane knew what Lawson never dreamed
of, and that was that Longstreth had a gun somewhere within
reach and meant to use it. Then heavy footsteps sounded outside
tramping upon the porch. Duane might have been mistaken, but he
believed those footsteps saved Lawson's life.
"There they are," said Lawson, and he opened the door.
Five masked men entered. They all wore coats hiding any
weapons. A big man with burly shoulders shook hands with
Longstreth, and the others stood back.
The atmosphere of that room had changed. Lawson might have been
a nonentity for all he counted. Longstreth was another man--a
stranger to Duane. If he had entertained a hope of freeing
himself from this band, of getting away to a safer country, he
abandoned it at the very sight of these men. There was power
here, and he was bound.
The big man spoke in low, hoarse whispers, and at this all the
others gathered around him close to the table. There were
evidently some signs of membership not plain to Duane. Then all
the heads were bent over the table. Low voices spoke, queried,
answered, argued. By straining his ears Duane caught a word
here and there. They were planning, and they were brief. Duane
gathered they were to have a rendezvous at or near Ord.
Then the big man, who evidently was the leader of the present
convention, got up to depart. He went as swiftly as he had
come, and was followed by his comrades. Longstreth prepared for
a quiet smoke. Lawson seemed uncommunicative and unsociable. He
smoked fiercely and drank continually. All at once he
straightened up as if listening.
"What's that?" he called, suddenly.
Duane's strained ears were pervaded by a slight rustling sound.
"Must be a rat," replied Longstreth.
The rustle became a rattle.
"Sounds like a rattlesnake to me," said Lawson.
Longstreth got up from the table and peered round the room.
Just at that instant Duane felt an almost inappreciable
movement of the adobe wall which supported him. He could
scarcely credit his senses. But the rattle inside Longstreth's
room was mingling with little dull thuds of falling dirt. The
adobe wall, merely dried mud, was crumbling. Duane distinctly
felt a tremor pass through it. Then the blood gushed back to
his heart.
"What in the hell!" exclaimed Longstreth.
"I smell dust," said Lawson, sharply.
That was the signal for Duane to drop down from his perch, yet
despite his care he made a noise.
"Did you hear a step?" queried Longstreth.
No one answered. But a heavy piece of the adobe wall fell with
a thud. Duane heard it crack, felt it shake.
"There's somebody between the walls!" thundered Longstreth.
Then a section of the wall fell inward with a crash. Duane
began to squeeze his body through the narrow passage toward the
patio.
"Hear him!" yelled Lawson. "This side!"
"No, he's going that way," yelled Longstreth.
The tramp of heavy boots lent Duane the strength of
desperation. He was not shirking a fight, but to be cornered
like a trapped coyote was another matter. He almost tore his
clothes off in that passage. The dust nearly stifled him. When
he burst into the patio it was not a single instant too soon.
But one deep gasp of breath revived him and he was up, gun in
hand, running for the outlet into the court. Thumping footsteps
turned him back. While there was a chance to get away he did
not want to fight. He thought he heard someone running into the
patio from the other end. He stole along, and coming to a door,
without any idea of where it might lead, he softly pushed it
open a little way and slipped in.
CHAPTER XX
A low cry greeted Duane. The room was light. He saw Ray
Longstreth sitting on her bed in her dressing-gown. With a
warninggesture to her to be silent he turned to close the
door. It was a heavy door without bolt or bar, and when Duane
had shut it he felt safe only for the moment. Then he gazed
around the room. There was one window with blind closely drawn.
He listened and seemed to hear footsteps retreating, dying
away.
Then Duane turned to Miss Longstreth. She had slipped off the
bed, half to her knees, and was holding out trembling hands.
She was as white as the pillow on her bed. She was terribly
frightened. Again with warning hand commanding silence, Duane
stepped softly forward, meaning to reassure her.
"Oh!" she whispered, wildly; and Duane thought she was going to
faint. When he got close and looked into her eyes he understood
the strange, dark expression in them. She was terrified because
she believed he meant to kill her, or do worse, probably worse.
Duane realized he must have looked pretty hard and fierce
bursting into her room with that big gun in hand.
The way she searched Duane's face with doubtful, fearful eyes
hurt him.
"Listen. I didn't know this was your room. I came here to get
away--to save my life. I was pursued. I was spying on--on your
father and his men. They heard me, but did not see me. They
don't know who was listening. They're after me now."
Her eyes changed from blank gulfs to dilating, shadowing.
quickening windows of thought.
Then she stood up and faced Duane with the fire and
intelligence of a woman in her eyes.
"Tell me now. You were spying on my father?"
Briefly Duane told her what had happened before he entered her
room, not omitting a terse word as to the character of the men
he had watched.
"My God! So it's that? I knew something was terribly wrong
here--with him--with the place--the people. And right off I
hated Floyd Lawson. Oh, it'll kill me if--if--It's so much
worse than I dreamed. What shall I do?"
The sound of soft steps somewhere near distracted Duane's
attention, reminded him of her peril, and now, what counted
more with him, made clear the probability of being discovered
in her room.
"I'll have to get out of here," whispered Duane.
"Wait," she replied. "Didn't you say they were hunting for
you?"
"They sure are," he returned, grimly.
"Oh, then you mustn't go. They might shoot you before you got
away. Stay. If we hear them you can hide. I'll turn out the
- knowing [´nəuiŋ]
a.会意的，心照不宣的 (初中英语单词) - whatever [wɔt´evə] pron.&a.无论什么 (初中英语单词)
- reckon [´rekən] v.计算；认为；估计 (初中英语单词)
- equally [´i:kwəli] ad.相等地；平等地 (初中英语单词)
- useless [´ju:sləs] a.无用的，无价值的 (初中英语单词)
- amazement [ə´meizmənt] n.惊愕；惊奇 (初中英语单词)
- intelligence [in´telidʒəns] n.智力；消息 (初中英语单词)
- atmosphere [´ætməsfiə] n.大气；空气；气氛 (初中英语单词)
- evidently [´evidəntli] ad.明显地 (初中英语单词)
- swiftly [´swiftli] ad.迅速地，敏捷地 (初中英语单词)
- fiercely [´fiəsli] ad.凶猛地，残忍地 (初中英语单词)
- rustle [´rʌsl] v.&n.(使)沙沙作响 (初中英语单词)
- instant [´instənt] a.立即的 n.紧迫；瞬间 (初中英语单词)
- rattle [´rætl] n.嘎吱声 (初中英语单词)
- breath [breθ] n.呼吸；气息 (初中英语单词)
- running [´rʌniŋ] a.奔跑的；流动的 (初中英语单词)
- softly [´sɔftli] ad.软化地；柔和地 (初中英语单词)
- gesture [´dʒestʃə] n.手势 v.打手势 (初中英语单词)
- fearful [´fiəfəl] a.可怕的；担心的 (初中英语单词)
- character [´kæriktə] n.特性；性质；人物；字 (初中英语单词)
- terribly [´terəbli] ad.可怕地 (初中英语单词)
- crooked [´krukid] a.弯曲的；畸形的 (高中英语单词)
- mistaken [mis´teikən] mistake的过去分词 (高中英语单词)
- membership [´membəʃip] n.会员资格；全体会员 (高中英语单词)
- continually [kən´tinjuəli] ad.不断地，频繁地 (高中英语单词)
- inward [´inwəd] a.向内的；心灵上的 (高中英语单词)
- squeeze [skwi:z] v.&n.压榨，榨取 (高中英语单词)
- outlet [´autlet] n.出口；出路；通风口 (高中英语单词)
- reassure [,ri:ə´ʃuə] vt.使放心 (高中英语单词)
- doubtful [´dautful] a.怀疑的，可疑的 (高中英语单词)
- probability [,prɔbə´biliti] n.或有；可能性 (高中英语单词)
- boldness [´bəuldnis] n.大胆；冒失；显著 (英语四级单词)
- impatience [im´peiʃəns] n.不耐烦，急躁 (英语四级单词)
- unconsciously [ʌn´kɔʃəsli] ad.无意识地；不觉察地 (英语四级单词)
- hoarse [hɔ:s] a.嘶哑的；嗓门粗哑的 (英语四级单词)
- coyote [´kaiəut] n.小狼，丛林狼 (英语四级单词)
- warning [´wɔ:niŋ] n.警告；前兆 a.预告的 (英语四级单词)
- calmness [´kɑ:mnis] n.平静；安静 (英语六级单词)
- hoarsely [´hɔ:sli] ad.嘶哑地 (英语六级单词)
- arrogant [´ærəgənt] a.傲慢的；自大的 (英语六级单词)
- holding [´həuldiŋ] n.保持，固定，存储 (英语六级单词)
- hunting [´hʌntiŋ] n.打猎 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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