Port O' Gold Part 16

"No, tonight," the fevered eyes stared up at them imploringly. Jones drew Adrian aside. "Pretend you'll do it or h.e.l.l wear himself out. Then go. I'll give him something that will make him sleep." He emptied a powder in a tumbler of water and held it out to the sick man. "Drink this," he ordered, "it'll give you strength to see Miss Burthen."

Benito's lips obediently quaffed the drink. His head lay quieter upon the pillow. Slowly, as they watched, the eyelids closed.

"And now," said Adrian when he had a.s.sured himself that Benito slept, "I'm going for McTurpin."

"Don't be a confounded fool," Dr. Jones said quickly.

But Stanley paid no heed. He went directly into the saloon and looked about him. At a table, back toward him, sat a stocky figure, playing cards and reaching for the rum container at his side. Adrian stood a moment, musing; then his right hand slid down to his hip; a forward stride and the left hand fell on the player's shoulder.

"We meet once more, McTurpin."

The gambler rose so suddenly that the stool on which he sat rolled over.

His face was red with wine and rage. His fingers moved toward an inner pocket.

"Don't," said Adrian meaningly. The hand fell back.

"What do you want?" the gambler growled.

"A quiet talk, my friend. Come with me."

"And, suppose I refuse?" the other sneered.

"Oh, if you're afraid--" began Adrian.

McTurpin threw his cards upon the table. Between him and a man across the board flashed a swift, unspoken message. "I'm at your service, Mr.--ah--Stanley."

He led the way out, and Adrian following, gave a quick glance backward, noting that the man across the table had arisen. What he did not see was that Spear hovered in the offing, following them with watchful eyes.

Toward the north they strolled, past a huddle of tents, for the most part unlighted. From some came snores and through many a windblown flap, the searching moonlight revealed sleeping figures. On a waste of sand-dunes McTurpin paused.

"Now tell me what ye want," he snarled, "and be d.a.m.ned quick about it.

I've small time to waste with meddlers."

"On this occasion," Stanley said, "you'll take the time to note the following facts, Mr. McTurpin, Mr. Pillsworth--or whatever your true name may be--I've had a talk with Dandy Carter. He recognized you and Gasket when Burthen was killed, in spite of your beard. So did Rosa, of course, though she skipped the next morning. The Burthen girl is at my house." He paused an instant, thinking that he heard a movement in a bush nearby. "Well, that's all," he finished, "except this: If I find you here tomorrow, Alec McTurpin, murderer, card-sharp and abductor, I'll shoot you down like a dog."

And then, with a splendid piece of bravery, he turned his back on the gambler, walking away with never a backward glance. He did not go directly home, but walked for an indeterminate interval till his spirit was more calm.

The house was dark. Inez had obeyed him by leaving no trace of light.

Doubtless by now they had retired. Suddenly he started, peered more closely at the door he was about to enter.

It was slightly ajar. On the threshold, as he threw it open, Adrian found a lace-edged handkerchief. His wife's.

Filled with quick foreboding, he called her name. His voice sounded hollow, strange, as if an empty house. Tremblingly he struck a light and searched the inner room. The bed had not been slept in. There was no one to be seen.

CHAPTER XXII

SHOTS IN THE DARK

Frantically Adrian ran out into the darkness, crying his wife's name.

His thought went, with swift apprehension, over the events of recent hours. The villainous face of Ned Gasket pa.s.sed before his memory mockingly; the meaning look McTurpin gave his henchman at the gaming table. Finally, with double force, that movement in the bushes as he told the gambler of his former captive's whereabouts. By what absurd imprudence had he laid himself thus open to the scoundrel's swift attack? What farther whimsy of an unkind Fate had prompted his long walk?

Sudden fury flamed in Stanley's heart; it steadied him. The twitching fingers on the pistol in his pocket relaxed into a calm and settled tension. With long strides he made his way toward Brown's hotel.

There was death in his eyes; men who caught their gleam beneath a lamplight, hastily avoided him. That Inez--at this time--should have been taken from her home, abducted, frightened or hara.s.sed, was the sin unpardonable. For it he meant to exact a capital punishment. The law, just then, meant to him nothing; only the primitive instinct of an outraged man controlled his mind.

At the bar he paused. "Where's McTurpin, where's Gasket?" he demanded, harshly.

The bartender observed him with suspicion and uneasiness. "Don't know.

Haven't seen 'em since they started out with you," he answered.

Stanley left the room without another word.

He struck across the Plaza, entering the Eldorado gambling house. There he ordered a drink, gulped it, made, more quietly, a survey of the room.

He scanned the players carefully. Spear sat at one of the tables, toying with a pile of chips and stroking his chin reflectively as he surveyed three cards.

"Give me two. h.e.l.lo, there, Adrian. Good Lord! what's up?"

"Have you seen McTurpin or his friend, Ned Gasket?" He tried to speak quietly.

A miner at another table leaned forward. "Try the stalls, pard," he whispered, while his left eyelid descended meaningly.

"Wait," cried Spear and laid his cards down hastily. But Adrian was already on his way. At the rear were half a dozen small compartments where visitors might drink in semi-privacy with women who frequented the place.

Adrian made the round of them, flinging aside each curtain as he went.

Some greeted him with curses for intruding; some with invitations. But he did not find the men he sought, until the last curtain was thrown back. There sat Gasket and McTurpin opposite Ensenada Rose. She looked up impudently as Adrian entered. Into the gambler's visage sprang a quick surprise and fear. Instantly he blew out the lamp.

A pistol spoke savagely almost in Adrian's face. He staggered, clasping one hand to his head. Something warm ran down his cheek and the side of his neck. He felt giddy, stunned. But a dominant impulse jerked his own revolver into position and he shot twice--as rapidly as he could operate the weapon. The narrow s.p.a.ce was chokingly filled with acrid vapor.

Somewhere a woman screamed; then came a rush of feet.

It seemed to Adrian he had stood for hours in a kind of stupor when a light was brought. Gasket lay, his head bowed over on the table and an arm flung forward. He was dead. On the floor was a lace mantilla.

Spear reached Adrian's side ahead of the others. "I heard him shoot first," he said, so that all might hear him. "Are you hit?"

Adrian's hand went once more to his cheek. "Just a furrow," he said and smiled a trifle dazedly. "He fired straight into my face."

"By Harry! He must have. Your cheek's powder-marked," cried Brannan, running up and holding the lamp for a better view. "See that, gentlemen?

They tried to murder Mr. Stanley. This is self-defense. Who fired at you?"

"This fellow!" Adrian indicated the sprawled figure. "Must have been. I shot at the flash from his gun; then I aimed at McTurpin. I missed him, probably."

"Not so sure of that," said Brown, who had come running from his hostelry across the square. "Look, here's blood on the floor. A trail--let's follow it. Either McTurpin or the woman was. .h.i.t."

"I tried to avoid her," Adrian said. "I--hope I didn't--"

"Never mind. You were attacked. They're all of a parcel," cried a man who wore the badge of a constable. "We've had our eyes on the three of them a long time. This fellow," he indicated Gasket, "was one of the crowd suspected of the Warren murders. He's the one who killed old Burthen. Dandy Carter let it out tonight; he's half delirious. We'd have strung him up most probably, if you hadn't--"

"Come," urged Brannan, "let us follow this trail to the wounded. Perhaps he or she needs a.s.sistance." He held the lamp low, tracing the dark spots across an intervening s.p.a.ce to the rear entrance; thence to a hitching rack where several horses still were tethered. "They mounted here," the constable decided. "One horse probably. No telling which it was that got the bullet."