The Last Straw Part 57

When Jane spoke again it was in an easier tone.

"How did you happen to come to this country, Cole?"

He looked up, relief showing in his face as she abandoned the other line of questioning. Hepburn stirred and Webb lifted a hand to hook his thumb in his belt.

"Why, I heered about this place. Good feed an' water an' a place to settle. So I just come; that's all."

"How did you hear about it?"

"A feller told me."

"Who?"

"I dunno his name. I--"

"How many cows have you?"

Her voice was suddenly sharp and hard as she cut in on his impotent evasion and shifted her subject again.

"Why, 'bout twenty."

"And how many calves are with them?"

He seemed to calculate, but she insisted, leaning closer to him:

"How many calves?"

"Why, not more'n half of 'em got calves."

"Sure? Not more than half?"

"Why ... I guess--"

"And you've got sixteen young calves in this pen! How do you account for that?"

A murmur ran among her men and Cole looked at her with fright in his eyes.

"I dunno!" he suddenly burst out, voice trembling. "I dunno nothin'

about it. You've all got me here an' are pickin' on me. I didn't steal anything. I thought they was all mine." And then, in a broken, repressedly frantic appeal: "I don't want to go to jail again. I don't know nothin'...."

"Again?" she said, quite gently.

He looked at her and nodded slowly. The little resistance he had offered her was gone; his limbs trembled and his eyes had that whipped, abject look that a broken spirited dog will show.

"You've been in jail once? For stealing cattle?"

"I didn't steal.... They said I did. They didn't want me around.

They're like all you big outfits; they don't want me ... they don't want me...."

He lifted one hand in a gesture of hopeless appeal and tears showed in his eyes. They didn't want him, as she didn't want him! And suddenly an overwhelming pity surged upward in the girl for this man. It was like her, like all the Jane Hunters, like all men and women in whose hearts great strength and great pity is combined. There was no question of his guilt, but he was helpless before her; his fate was in her hands ...

and back in her mind that other theory was forming; that other hope was coming to stronger life....

"Cole, did you steal my calves?"

She leaned low and spoke intently; her voice was a mingling of resolution and warmth that created confidence in his heart. For a moment he evaded her look; then answered it and a sob came up into his thin throat and shook it. He looked from her to Hepburn and then to Webb and read there something that Jane, whose eyes followed his, could not read; all she could read was threat ... threat, threat!

"Did you steal my calves?" she repeated in a tone even lower.

She saw her men strain forward.

"Oh, I don't want to go to jail!" he said and tears streamed down his seamed cheeks. "I took 'em ... but I'm a poor man ... a poor man...."

From Bobby came a stifled cry. She started forward again, but this time it was Hilton who grasped her arm, rather roughly. He drew her back, hissing a word between his teeth. His eyes glittered.

Riley stepped forward quickly beside Cole. His face was strained; mouth very grim. Oliver was beside him; breathing quickly.

"What's your verdict, Miss Hunter?" Riley asked. His voice was hoa.r.s.e.

"You have heard it," she said gently. "You heard it from his lips."

She was not looking at them, but at Bobby Cole, who stood with knuckles pressed against her lips, fright, misery in her staring eyes. The strength, the vindictiveness was gone. She was a little girl, then, a little girl in trouble!

"Then I guess there's nothin' to do, but to go through with this ourselves." The old cattle man spoke slowly and rather heavily. "Cole, there's a way of treatin' thieves in this country that's gone out of fashion in recent years; we ain't had to hang n.o.body for a long time, but--"

"Stop!"

It was a clear, ringing cry from Jane that checked Riley, that caused the man who had grimly picked up his rope to stand holding it motionless in his hand.

"This is a matter for all of us, but by common consent I was selected to judge this man. He has admitted his guilt after an opportunity to protest his innocence. Now you must let me pa.s.s sentence...."

"Sentence, ma'am?" Riley asked. "There's only one way. This has been war: they've warred you, they've threatened to drive you out. It's you or ... your enemies. This man is your proven enemy. Make an example of him. He's guilty; nothin' else should be considered!"

"One thing," she said, smiling for the first time that afternoon, a slow, serious, grave smile, withal a tender smile, as she looked at Cole, the trembling craven.

"One thing: The quality of mercy!

"Men, do you know that line? 'The quality of mercy is not strained. It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven'?

"Mercy is the most holy thing in human relations. It is a blessing not only to the man who receives it, but to the man that gives!"

The first, dissenting stir died. This was no dodging, no evading the issue. This was something new and her manner caught their interest as she stood with one outstretched hand appealing frankly for their attention and understanding.

"This man has stolen from me. You have seen him here. He has shown himself to be a weakling, a poor, wretched man, who has neither friends nor respect for himself. He has known trouble before." She looked from the man before her to Bobby whose strained face was on hers with amazement, whose breast rose and fell irregularly, in whose eyes stood tears. "I think that he has known little but trouble; he has been unfortunate perhaps because he tried to help himself by troubling others. There is only one thing left in life for him and that is his liberty.

"He cannot hurt me. He cannot hurt any of us from now on. He knows what we know of this thing today. He will stand before us all as a man who has not played the game fairly.

"Do you fear him? Do you young, strong men fear this man?... No, you don't! No more than I. We have seen him humbled; we have heard him plead. Giving him his liberty will cost us nothing. I will go so far as to promise you that he will never steal from us again ... if we do this for him.... Don't you agree with me?"

She looked from face to face, but as her eyes traveled they were not for an instant unconscious of other faces ... back there; faces to which had come relief, relaxation, color, after tensity and pallor; faces which the next instant were dark and apprehensive, for she said: