The One-Way Trail Part 22

"Don't talk to me of that little devil!" he cried. "I want those thirty dollars, d'you understand?" He crashed his fist on the table and set the supper things clattering. "You talk to me of Elia! That devil's imp has been in the way ever since we got married. And d'you think I'm going to stand for him now?" He sprang to his feet, his eyes blazing with that fury which of late he rarely took the trouble to keep in check. "See here," he cried, "you've preached to me enough for one night, and, fool-like, I've listened to you. I listen to no more.

So, just get busy and hand over those dollars."

But if he was in a fury, he had contrived to stir Eve as he had never stirred her before.

"You'll not get a cent of them," she cried, her eyes lighting with sudden cold anger.

For a moment they stood eyeing each other. There was no flinching in Eve now, no appeal, no fear. And the man's fury was driving him whither it would. He was gathering himself for a final outburst, and when it came it was evident he had lost all control of himself.

"You ----! I'll have those dollars if I have to take 'em!"

"You shall not!"

Will flung his pipe to the ground and dashed at Eve like a madman. He caught her by the shoulders, and gripped the warm rounded flesh until the pain made her writhe under his clutch.

"Where are they?" he demanded, with another furious oath. "I'm going to have 'em. Speak! Speak, you ---- or I'll----"

But Eve was obdurate. Her courage was greater than her strength. He shook her violently, clutching at her shoulders as though to squeeze the information he needed out of her. But he got no answer, and, in a sudden access of demoniacal rage, he swung her round and hurled her across the room with all his strength. She fell with a thud, and beyond a low moan lay quite still. Her head had struck the sharp angle of the coal box.

In a moment the man had pa.s.sed into the bedroom in search of the money. Nor did he have to search far. Eve kept her money in one place always, and he knew where it was. Having possessed himself of the roll of bills he came out into the kitchen. He looked about him, and his furious eyes fell upon the prostrate form of his wife. She was lying beside the coal box in the att.i.tude in which she had fallen. He went over to her, and stood for a second gazing down at the result of his handiwork.

But there was neither pity nor remorse in his heart. For the time at least he hated her. She had dared to defy him, she had twitted him with his gaming, she had refused him--in favor of Elia. He told himself all this, and, as he looked down at the still figure, he told himself it served her right, and that she would know better in the future. But he waited until he detected the feeble rise and fall of her bosom. Then he went out, conscious of a certain feeling of relief in spite of his rage.

CHAPTER XV

A "PARTY CALL"

Peter led the way up the path from the gate of Eve's garden. He had taken the lead in this visit; he felt it was necessary. Jim Thorpe's frame of mind was not to be trusted, should they encounter Henderson.

He knocked at the door, rea.s.sured that Eve was within by the light in her parlor window.

At first he received no reply, and in silence the two men waited. Then Peter knocked again. This time Elia's voice was heard answering his summons.

"Come in."

Peter raised the latch, and, closely followed by Jim, pa.s.sed directly into the parlor. He glanced swiftly round at the litter of dressmaking, but Eve was not there. Jim's eyes, too, wandered over the familiar little room. It was the first time he had entered it since the day he had ridden over to ask her to marry him.

He saw Eve now in every detail of the furnishing; he saw her in the work he had watched her at so often; he saw her in the very atmosphere of the place, and the realization of all he had lost smote him sorely.

Then there came to him the object of his present visit, and he grew sick with the intensity of his feelings.

But the room was empty, and yet it had been Elia's voice that summoned them to enter. With only the briefest hesitation Peter started toward the kitchen door, and Jim, his thoughts running riot over the past, mechanically followed him. And as they reached it, and Peter's great bulk filled up the opening, it was the latter's sharp exclamation that brought Jim to matters of the moment. He drew close up behind his companion and looked over his shoulder, and a startled, horror-stricken cry broke from him.

"Look!" he cried, and the horror in his voice was in his eyes, and the expression of his face.

The scene held them both for a second, and for years it lived in Jim's memory. The ill-lit kitchen with its single lamp; the yellow rays lighting up little more than the untidy supper-table with the misshapen figure of Elia sitting on the far side of it, calmly devouring his evening meal. The rest of the room was shadowy, except where the light from the cook-stove threw its lurid rays upon the white face and crumpled figure of Eve lying close beside it upon the floor. Her eyes were closed, and a great wound upon her forehead, with blood oozing slowly from it, suggested death to the horrified men.

In an instant Jim was at Eve's side, bending over her, seeking some signs of life. Then, as Peter came up, he turned to him with a look of unutterable relief.

"She's alive," he said.

"Thank G.o.d!"

"Quick," Jim hurried on, "water and a sponge, or towel or something."

Peter crossed the room to the barrel, and dipped out some water; and, further, he procured a washing flannel, and hastened back with them to Jim, who was kneeling supporting the girl's wounded head upon his hand.

And all the time Elia, as though in sheer idle curiosity, watched the scene, steadily continuing his meal the while. There was no sort of feeling expressed in his cold eyes. Nor did he display the least relief when Jim a.s.sured him Eve was alive. Peter watched the boy, and while Jim bathed her wounded forehead with a tenderness which was something almost maternal, he questioned him with some exasperation.

"How did it happen?" he demanded, his steady eyes fixed disapprovingly on the lad's face.

"Don't know. Guess she must ha' fell some. Ther's suthin' red on the edge o' the coal box. Mebbe it's her blood."

The cold indifference angered even Peter.

"And you sit there with her, maybe, dying. Say, you're pretty mean."

The boy's indifference suddenly pa.s.sed. He glanced at Eve, then at the door, and he stirred uneasily.

"I didn't know wher' Will 'ud be. If I'd called folks, an' he'd got around an' found 'em here----"

"Why didn't you fetch him?" Peter broke in.

"I come in jest after he'd gone out, an'----"

"Found--this?" Peter indicated Eve.

"Yes."

Jim suddenly looked up, and his fierce eyes encountered Peter's. The latter's tone promptly changed.

"How is she?" he asked gently, and it was evident he was trying to banish the thoughts which Elia's statement had stirred in Jim's mind.

"Coming to," he said shortly, and turned again to his task of bathing the injured woman's forehead.

But it was still some minutes before the flicker of the girl's eyelids proved Jim's words. Then he sighed his relief and for a moment ceased the bathing and examined the wound. Then he reached a cushion from one of the kitchen chairs and folded it under her head.

The wound on her forehead was an ugly place just over her right temple, and there was no doubt in his mind had it been half an inch lower it would have proved fatal. He knelt there staring at it, wondering and speculating. He glanced at the corner of the box, and the thought of Eve's height suggested the impossibility of a tumble causing such a wound. Suspicion stirred him to a cold, hard rage. This was no accident, he told himself, and his mind flew at once to the only person who, to his way of thinking, could have caused it. Will had left her just as Elia came in; but Peter's voice called him to himself.

"Best keep on with the bathing," he said.

And without a sign Jim bent to his task once more. A moment later Eve stirred, and her eyes opened. At first there was no meaning in her upward stare. Then the eyes began to move, and settled themselves on Jim's face. In a moment consciousness returned, and she struggled to sit up. It was then the man's arm was thrust under her shoulders, and he gently lifted her.

"Feeling better, Eve?" he asked gently.

There was a moment's pause; then a whispered, "Yes," came from her lips. But her wound began to bleed afresh, and Jim turned at once to Elia.