Beth Norvell Part 32

good now. It's all--all over with, an' you ain't helpin' her none a-settin' thar that way."

The smitten man drew a deep breath, glancing up into the kindly, seamed face bending over him, and about at the surrounding darkness. He acted like one suddenly aroused from sleep, unable to comprehend his situation. Slowly, with all the tenderness of love, he crumpled his old hat into the semblance of a pillow, placed it upon the rock, and lowered the girl's head until it rested softly upon it. Gently he pa.s.sed his great hand in caress across the ruffled black hair, pressing it back from her forehead. He arose to his knees, to his feet, swaying slightly, one hand pressed against his head as he stared blankly into the faces of the two men.

"W-which way d-did he go?" he asked, almost stupidly. "Th-the feller w-who told 'em ter f-f-fire?"

Old Hicks, his eyes filled with misery, shook his head.

"Back ter the 'Independence,' I reckon," he admitted. "Most o' 'em I saw started that way."

Brown roughly jerked his gun from out its holster, holding the shining weapon up into the starlight.

"No, he didn't; not that one," he growled fiercely, his glance falling again upon the upturned features of the dead girl. "I saw him out thar runnin' toward our shaft-hole; h-he's up t-ter more d-deviltry. Y-you take k-keer o' her." His voice broke, then rang out strong. "By G-G.o.d, I 'll git the murderer!"

He pushed past between the two, shouldering them aside as though failing to see them, and, with the leap of a tiger, disappeared in the night. Each man had caught a glimpse of his face, drawn, white, every line picturing savagery, and shrank back from the memory. It was as if they had looked upon something too horrible for thought. A moment they stared after him, clutching their rifles as though in an agony of fear.

Hicks first found words of expression.

"He 's gone mad! G.o.d pity him, he 's gone mad!"

Winston drew himself together sharply, one hand grasping the other's arm.

"Then leave it to him," he said, quickly. "Whoever did this deed deserves his punishment. Let us do what he bade us--look to the body of this poor girl."

They turned back, dreading their task, moving still as though half dazed. As they advanced, a dark body just beyond suddenly rose to its knees, and began crawling away. With a bound Hicks succeeded in laying hands upon the fellow, and flung him over, face upward to the stars.

With gun at his head he held the man prostrate, staring down upon the revealed features in manifest astonishment.

"d.a.m.n me!" he cried, a new note of surprise in his voice, "Winston, look yere!"

"What is it?" and the younger man pressed forward, his rifle ready.

"Ain't that Burke? Ain't that the same feller they had you pinched fer murderin'?"

The helpless man lying upon the ground frowned savagely up at them, a dirty bandage bound about his head giving him a ghastly, unnatural appearance. For a long moment the startled engineer gazed down at him in incredulity, unable to distinguish the features clearly, his own heart beating rapidly in suspense.

"I half believe it is. Are you Jack Burke?"

The man attempted a grin, but there was little of merriment in the result.

"Oi think loikely ye 're as liable as any wan to know. Ye 're the lad that put this head on me, but that other divil it was that broke me arm. Let me up from here. Begorry! Oi 've had 'nough fightin' fer wan toime."

"Did you know I had been put under arrest on the charge of killing you?"

Burke grinned, this time in earnest.

"Divil a bit did Oi know anything about it. Farnham he tould me to keep d.a.m.n quiet in the bunkhouse, out o' sight, but whin they wanted for to set this fuse off, it seems Oi was the only lad that could do the job, an' so they brought me out here along wid 'em. It 's a busted head an' a broken arm Oi 've got for me share o' the fun. Be the powers, now, let me git up!"

The two men, watching him closely, exchanged glances.

"All right, Burke," and Winston held up his rifle suggestively. "You can get up, only stay close to us, wid no tricks. I want you, and I want you bad. If you make any break, there 'll be a dead Irishman this time sure. Is that you, Mike?"

"Sure, sor."

"Good; you've come just in time. Drop your muzzle on this native son, and if the fellow makes a suspicious move, plug him, you understand?"

"Ye bet Oi do, sor. Sthep out there, Burke, yer slab-sided boss o'

Swades, or Oi 'll show ye what a dacent Oirishman--an O'Brien, bedad,--thinks o' the loikes of ye; Oi will that."

With sympathetic gentleness, and in all the tenderness possible, their eyes moist, and everything else forgotten excepting their sad task, Hicks and Winston kneeled on the hard rock and lifted the slender figure of Mercedes in their arms. Slowly, without the exchange of a word, the little concourse turned in the darkness, and advanced in the direction of the cabin, bearing the silent burden. They walked with bowed heads and careful steps, their hearts heavy. With a faint whinny the girl's deserted pony trotted forward from out the shadow where he had been left, sniffed at her trailing skirt with outstretched nose, and fell in behind, walking with head bent almost to the ground as though he also understood and mourned. Winston glanced, marvelling, back at the animal, hastily brushing a tear from out his own eye; yet his lips remained set and rigid. He felt no doubt about who it was Brown was seeking through the black night. When they met, it would be a battle to the death.

Before the still open door of the cabin they silently lowered their burden in the shadow of the building. An instant they stood there listening intently for any sound to reach them from out the surrounding night. Then Winston, a.s.suming the duty, stepped reluctantly forward endeavoring to peer within. His heart throbbed from the pain of that sudden message of death he brought.

"Beth," he called, perceiving no movement within, and compelling his voice to calmness. "Miss Norvell."

There was a slight movement near the farther wall, but it was the voice of the wounded sheriff which answered.

"Who are yer? What was all that firin' about just now? d.a.m.n if I ain 't too weak ter git up, but I got a gun yere, an' reckon I kin pull the trigger."

"It's Winston and Hicks. We 've had a skirmish out beyond the dump.

Those fellows tried to blow up our shaft, and we caught them at it. Is Miss Norvell here?"

"No, I reckon not; she was sittin' yere talkin' to me when that shootin' begun, an' then she ran out the door thar. Anybody git hurt?"

"The little Mexican girl was killed. We have brought her body here."

"Good G.o.d!"

"And we 've also got a prisoner, sheriff. It 's that same Jack Burke you arrested me for killing. He seems very much alive."

There was a rustling back in the darkness, as if the man within was endeavoring to draw his body into a sitting posture. Then he swore savagely, pounding his fist into the side of the bunk, as though seeking thus to relieve his feelings.

"Burke!" he fairly exploded at last, his anger appearing to stifle utterance. "Jack Burke! h.e.l.l! Is that true? Oh, Lord! but I wish I could git out o' yere. That d.a.m.n Farnham swore out that warrant down in San Juan, ther blame, ornery cur. It was a low-down, measly trick, an' he actually had the nerve ter use me ter play out his game fer him.

Lord! if ever I git my hand on him I 'll shut down hard."

No one answered him, the thought of all recurring reverently to the motionless, silent dead without. Bareheaded, the two men, groping through the darkness, bore Mercedes within in all tenderness, and placed the slender form upon the bed, covering it with the single sheet. Hicks remained motionless, bending over her, the kindly darkness veiling the mist of tears dimming his old eyes and the trembling of his lips as he sought, for the first time in years, to pray. But Winston turned instantly and walked over toward Hayes, his heart already filled with fresh anxiety.

"Where did she go, do you know?"

"Who? the young actress woman? I could n't see exactly, only she went outside. I thought I heard voices talkin' out thar later on, over beyond toward the window, but maybe I imagined it. Darn this ol' head o' mine! It keeps whirlin' round every time I move, like it was all wheels."

The engineer, his face white with determination, strode to the door.

Beyond doubt it was Biff Farnham whose voice Brown had recognized, commanding his men to fire; it was Farnham who had disappeared in the direction of the "Little Yankee" shaft-house. What fresh deviltry was the desperate gambler engaged upon? What other tragedy was impending out there in the black night?

CHAPTER XXVII

THE SHADOW OF CRIME

Winston could never afterward recall having heard any report, yet as he stepped across the threshold a sharp flare of red fire cleft the blackness to his left. As though this was a signal he leaped recklessly forward, running blindly along the narrow path toward the ore-dump. Some trick of memory led him to remember a peculiar swerve in the trail just beneath the upper rim of the canyon. It must have been about there that he saw the flash, and he plunged over the edge, both hands outstretched in protection of his eyes from injury should he collide with any obstacle in the darkness. The deep shadows blinded him, but there was no hesitancy, some instinct causing him to feel the urgent need of haste. Once he stumbled and fell headlong, but was as instantly up again, bruised yet not seriously hurt. His revolver was jerked loose from his belt, but the man never paused to search for it.