The Award of Justice Part 32

"I wouldn't go to the Y to-night, if I were you; come back to the house and get a good night's rest, it will make a different man of you."

Morgan looked undecided for a moment; "'Twouldn't be no use going up there now," he answered gloomily, "I couldn't rest if I tried. I haven't slept scarcely any for three nights; but I ain't going to stay out late to-night as I've been doing; I shan't play after midnight.

I'm going to have two or three games just to see what luck I'll have, and if I don't have luck, why, that ends it, I ain't going to play all night."

"Morgan," said Houston earnestly, "you spoke the other night about money; now, as I told you then, if you need any money, I'm your friend, and I'll gladly accommodate you with whatever you need."

For the first time in all their acquaintance, Morgan's careless, indifferent manner changed, and for a few moments he seemed touched.

"Yes, I believe you," he said, after a pause, "I believe you're more of a friend to me than anybody else. Blaisdell would kick me out quicker'n it takes to say so, if he knew just how I stand to-night.

Even Haight's got the big-head and puts on his airs since he's seen I'm down; you're the only one that's showed me any kindness."

"Now, Morgan, just say what money you need, and you shall have it; I want to help you out of this," said Houston.

"No," said Morgan, decidedly, "if I am a gambler, and all that, I ain't going to take the wages from a fellow that works for less than I do, to help me out of trouble. The Lord knows you've earnt your money, for you've worked faithful."

"Never mind about that, Morgan," said Houston, hastily, "I'm not wholly dependent on my salary; I had a good little sum of money laid by before I came out here; there is plenty, I will not miss it, and you are welcome to it."

"Much obliged to you, Houston, but I can't take it,--not now, at any rate,--maybe I'll call on you for it to-morrow, if I don't have luck to-night."

"You are welcome to it whenever you want it," said Houston cordially, his hand on Morgan's shoulder; "I only wish you were not going to the Y to-night."

"Well," said Morgan, as he rose slowly, "don't think I don't appreciate your kindness, for I do. You've heard me say that I didn't believe in honor in anybody; I guess I'll have to take that back, for if there is such a thing as honor, you've got it. I don't know how it is," he said, with a heavy sigh, then added slowly, "I guess you've been raised different somehow, from most of us out here. The Lord knows how I was raised."

He started a few steps down the road, hesitated, and came back.

"Houston, there's one thing I want to say to you, for you've been good to me, that's this; look out for Haight; he's no friend of yours, and I guess you're sharp enough to know it, but maybe you don't know what a sneaking, cowardly cur he is; look out for him!"

"Thank you, Morgan, I will."

"He ain't like me," he continued, "if I don't like anybody I let 'em know it, and fight 'em fair and square; you can tell that by the way I bucked up against you, when you first came here," and he smiled at the recollection, the first time he had smiled in the whole conversation.

"Morgan," said Houston, "I've been sorry for that a good many times since; if I had known about you then what you have since told me, I never would have been so severe in my judgment of you."

"Oh, that was all right," he answered, "it did me good; I didn't like you very well at first, but I've always had a liking for you ever since. Well, so long!" and with a faint smile, Morgan went on his way.

Houston stood watching him for a few moments, then turned back in the direction of the house, little thinking how, or where, they would meet again.

CHAPTER x.x.xI.

The next morning dawned fair and cloudless, giving promise of one of those royal days, so frequent in the almost perfect climate of the higher alt.i.tudes.

Long before noon the heat would be intense, but in the early morning there was wafted down from the mountain side, where the pines were nodding and whispering so mysteriously, a cool, exhilarating breeze, which kissed the surface of the azure lake, sleeping so peacefully, and, awakening immediately into smiles, it lay rippling and dimpling with laughter in the sunlight.

The vines, transplanted by Miss Gladden and Lyle, under their fostering care, had transformed the little porch into a bower of beauty. Here stood Van Dorn, his fair, almost feminine face flushed with pleasure, and his blue eyes sparkling, as the light breeze played with the auburn curls cl.u.s.tering about his forehead, and he looked forth on the beauty of the scene.

"Ah--h!" he exclaimed, drawing a long breath, "isn't this refreshing after the stifling heat and dust of the journey out here? Isn't it glorious?"

"It is," responded Houston, "this is one of the mornings when it is a joy just simply to live and breathe."

Houston was fired with new ambition that morning; he would no longer have to work alone, keeping his anxieties and doubts, his plans and discoveries alike to himself; from henceforth he would have companionship, counsel and a.s.sistance, and he felt a new interest and enthusiasm.

Immediately after breakfast, the two set forth upon their first day's work. Going first to the mills, Houston secured the services of two or three men who could be spared from the ordinary work, to a.s.sist Van Dorn in making preparations for the erection of the machinery; then he left for his early visit to the mines.

It was nearly ten o'clock when, having finished his round of duties at the mines, and coming up to the surface from the cool, underground workings, he found the heat almost unendurable, and strolled over to the mills, to see how Van Dorn was progressing. The latter did not seem averse to stopping for a few moments, and for a while, the two chatted and laughed with the old, careless abandon of their college days, without a thought of the more serious side of life, until, something being needed for the work, which Houston thought was in the tool-house, they proceeded together to look for it.

Houston was still searching for the needed implements, when Van Dorn, who was near the door, called out:

"I say, Everard, here's a small specimen of humanity who seems to be looking for you in a desperate hurry," and an instant later, he heard a familiar voice say:

"Is the boss in there, mister? Le'me in quick, I wan'ter see 'im!"

Turning quickly, he saw Bull-dog, breathless, pale and quivering with excitement.

"Say, boss," he gasped, before Houston could speak, "they want yer--down ter the Y,--Morgan has shot hisself!"

"What is that, boy?" exclaimed Houston hoa.r.s.ely, clearing the s.p.a.ce between them at a bound.

"Morgan's shot hisself, 'n they sent us fer yer,--me'n Hank,--he's out there," with a backward jerk of his thumb over his shoulder toward the open door.

Houston sprang to the door; another boy was talking excitedly with Van Dorn, while his horse stood, panting heavily and covered with dust and foam.

"Here's the man you want," said Van Dorn, turning a white face toward Houston, "Great G.o.d, Everard!" he exclaimed, "Morgan has killed himself!"

"He is not dead!" exclaimed Houston, turning towards the boy.

The latter nodded; "They found 'im shot through the head, 'n this was in his hand, 'n the cops won't let n.o.body in till you come," and he handed Houston a bit of paper.

It was a sc.r.a.p of newspaper, crumpled and spattered with blood, and, as Houston smoothed it out, he read on the margin, in characters wavering and almost illegible, written with a trembling hand, but still Morgan's writing, "Send to the camp for Houston, he's the only friend I've got."

For an instant, it seemed to Houston as though the glorious sunlight had suddenly turned to blackness, a blackness in which the sc.r.a.p of paper gleamed white before him, its red spots glowing like spots of flame. He seemed again to see Morgan as he looked when parting from him the previous evening; the haggard face, with its hollow eyes and faint, pathetic smile, and as he recalled his words in reply to his own repeated offers of money, there seemed a new meaning in them; "Maybe I'll call on you for it to-morrow if I don't have luck to-night."

But Houston realized there was no time to waste, and in a few moments he was mounted on a powerful gray horse, on his way to the Y, notwithstanding Van Dorn's protests on account of the intense heat, having requested the latter to explain his absence at the house. Just as he was about to start, Bull-dog begged to be allowed to ride with him, to which Houston consented, and lifting the little fellow up, seated him in front of himself. Very little was said, for the horse seemed to understand what was expected of him, and sped like the wind down the narrow canyon road, but Houston's hand rested kindly on Bull-dog's shoulder, steadying the slender frame, and, at the same time, warming the heart of the forlorn little waif, to whom even the touch of kindness was something exceedingly rare.

Houston's mind was occupied with thoughts of the terrible scene he was rapidly approaching, as well as with memories of his last interview with Morgan on the preceding night. At last, having crossed a ravine, the horse slackened his pace, as he climbed the steep ascent on the other side, and Houston, almost unconsciously, spoke his thoughts aloud.

"Poor Morgan!" he said, with a heavy sigh, "poor fellow! If I could only have saved him from this! G.o.d knows I would have given him any amount of money to have prevented this."

"'Twouldn't ha' been no use, sir," Bull-dog broke in quickly, eager to console Houston, "'twouldn't ha' been no use to have give 'im money, 'cause, ye see, them fellers that he played with would ha' got it all."

"Who were they?" inquired Houston.

"Oh, there was Faro d.i.c.k and Slicky Sam, and a lot of 'em; Morgan wasn't no match for fellers like them, they was all too swift fer him."

"How do you know?"