The One-Way Trail Part 53

"He's got to die," he said.

The woman suddenly reeled, and fell on her knees at the table, with her face buried on her outstretched arms. Elia watched her for some moments. He felt that here was some recompense for what he had gone through.

"You was kind o' sweet on him, sis," he said presently. "That's why I tried to help him some. I kind o' like him, too. I feel sort o' queer Jim's goin' to get hanged--hanged, sis, at dawn." He paused, but beyond the racking sobs that shook the woman's frame she made no movement. "I sure feel queer about it, tho'. Y'see he came right up when Will had nigh kicked the life out o' me, an' he hit Will a smash that knocked him cold. Gee, it was a smash! Jim hurt Will bad, an' it was for me. Say, that's why I feel queer they're goin' to--hang him at dawn. Somehow, it don't seem good stretchin' Jim's neck. I don't seem to feel I'd like to see Jim hurted. Must be because he hurted Will fer me. Will 'ud 'a' killed me, sure, but fer Jim."

His words had become a sort of soliloquy. He had forgotten his sister for the moment. But now, as she looked up, he remembered.

"You tried to--to save him?" she demanded. "You told them what Will was doing? You told them how--how it all happened?"

The boy shook his head, and again his eyes lit with malice.

"I ain't been inside the saloon. I--I was scared. Y'see Will wasn't killed by the blow Jim give him. Guess that on'y jest knocked him out.

Y'see he was killed with Jim's knife--after. Y'see Jim's a fule. After he'd hit him he fixed his face up with his han'k'chiefs, an' after he was good an' dead he went fer to leave his knife stickin' in his chest. That's wher' I helped him some. I took that knife out--an' them rags. Here they are, right here."

He suddenly produced the blood-stained knife and the handkerchiefs, and held them out toward her. But the woman shrank away from them.

"I guessed if I took 'em right away no one 'ud know how he come by his death, an' who did it. Y'see Jim had helped me some."

But Eve was not heeding the explanation.

"Then he did--kill him?" Her question was a low, horrified whisper.

"Ye--es."

"After he had--struck him senseless?"

"Ye--yes."

"I don't believe it. You are lying to me, Elia." The woman's voice was strident, even harsh.

Elia understood. It was her desire to convince herself of Jim's innocence that set her accusing him. It was not that she really disbelieved. Had it been otherwise he would have been afraid. As it was he gloated over her suffering instead.

"Yes, he's a fule, an' he's sure got to hang," he said mildly. "Guess it'll be dawn come half an hour. Then they're goin' to take him right out ther' wher' he killed your Will--an' hang him. Smallbones is goin'

out to find the tree. Say, sis, Smallbones is goin' to get busy pullin' the rope. I wish it wa'n't Jim, sure I do. I'd sooner it was Peter, on'y he's goin' to give me that gold. Guess it wouldn't matter if----"

"They shan't hang him! I don't believe it. I can't believe it. I don't believe you. Oh, G.o.d, this is awful! Elia, say it isn't so; say you are only----"

"Don't be a fule, sis," the boy cried, brutally. "Guess if you can't b'lieve me go an' ast Peter. He's in his hut. He helped defend Jim, an' said a heap o' fule things 'bout gettin' the law on Doc. Ast him if you don't b'lieve me."

But whereas he had only intended to force her belief by his challenge, Eve took him literally. She s.n.a.t.c.hed at his words, and he suddenly became afraid. She picked up the knife and the rags, which before she had refused to touch, and grasped him by one wrist.

"Yes, yes, we'll go over to Peter, and I'll have the truth from him. I can't trust you, Elia. You were there when Will was murdered; you've been down to the saloon, outside it. You must have seen the killing, and you've not said one word in his defense, not one word as to the reason of Will's death. Jim did it in your defense, and you're letting him hang without a word to help him. You shall tell Peter what you've told me, and maybe it isn't too late to do something yet. Come along."

But the boy tried to drag free. His guilty conscience made him fear Peter, and in a frenzy he struggled to release himself.

But Eve was no longer the gentle, indulgent woman he had always known.

She was fighting for a life perhaps dearer to her than Elia's. She saw a barely possible chance that through Elia she might yet save Jim.

Will's brutal attack upon a cripple had met with perhaps something more than its deserts, but these men were men, and maybe the extenuation of the provocation might at least save Jim the rope.

Elia quickly gave up the struggle. His bodily hurts had robbed him of what little physical strength he possessed at the best of times; and Eve, for all her slightness, was by no means a weak woman. She literally forced him to go, half dragging him, and never for a moment relaxing her hold upon him.

And so they came to Peter's hut. She knocked loudly at the door, and called to him, fearing, because she saw no light, that the man had gone out again. But Peter was there, and his astonished voice answered her summons at once.

"Eve?" he cried, in something like consternation, for he was thinking of the news he must now give her. Then he appeared in the doorway.

"Quick, light a lamp," the woman cried. "Elia has told me all about it. He says Jim is to die at--dawn." She glanced involuntarily at the eastern horizon, and to her horror beheld the first pale reflection of morning light, hovering, an almost milky lightening, where all else was still jet black.

Peter had no words with which to answer her. He had dreaded seeing her, and now--she knew. He lit the lamp, and Eve dragged the unwilling boy in with her; and as she pa.s.sed him over to Peter's bed he fell back on it groaning.

"Peter," she cried now, speaking with a rush, since dawn was so near.

"Can't something be done? Surely, surely, there is extenuation! He did it all to defend Elia. Will was killing him out there at the bluff.

Look at him! Can't you see his suffering? That's why Jim killed him.

Elia's just told me so. He even took these things from--from the body after--thinking it might save Jim. He brought them to me just now; and he says he's been down at the saloon, and never said a word to help Jim. He said he was frightened to go in. Did Jim tell them it was to save Elia? Oh, surely they can be made to understand it was not wilful--wilful murder! They can't hang him. It's--it's--horrible!"

But as the astonished Peter listened to her words, words which told him a side of the story he had never even dreamed of before, his eyes drifted and fixed themselves on the now ghastly face of the boy. He compelled the terror-stricken eyes and held them with his own. And when Eve ceased speaking he answered her without turning. He was reading, reading through the insane mind of the boy, right down into his very soul. In the long days he had had Elia working with him he had studied him closely. And he had learned the twists and warps of his nature as no one else understood them.

"Jim said nothing at all!" Peter said slowly.

"Nothing? What do you mean? He--he must have told them of--of Elia?"

Suddenly Peter's eyes shot in the direction of the door. A faint, distant sound reached them. It was a sound of bustle from the direction of the saloon. Eve heard too. They both understood.

"Oh, G.o.d!" she cried.

But Peter's eyes were on Elia's face once more. They were stern, and a curious light was in them.

"I seem to see it now," he said slowly. "Jim denied his guilt because he was innocent. But he admitted that the knife which killed Will was his, although no knife was found. He spoke the truth the whole time.

He would not stoop to a lie, because he was innocent. Eve, that man was shielding the real culprit. Do you know any one that Jim would be likely to give his life for? I do." Suddenly he swung round on Elia, and, with an arm outstretched, and a great finger pointing, he cried, "Why did you kill Will Henderson?"

Inspiration had come. A great light of hope shone in his eyes. His demand was irresistible to the suffering, demented boy. Elia's eyes gleamed with a sudden cruel frenzy. There was the light of madness in them, a vicious, furious madness in them. Hatred of Will surged through his fevered brain, a furious triumph at the thought of having paid Will for all his cruelties to him swept away any guilty fears as he blurted out his reply.

"Because I hate him. Because he's kicked me till I'm nigh dead.

Because--I--I hate him."

It was a tremendous moment, and fraught with such possibilities as a few minutes ago would have seemed impossible. There was a silence of horror in the room. The shock had left Eve staggered. Peter was calculating what seemed almost impossible chances. Elia--Elia was in the agonies of realizing what he had done, and battling with an overwhelming physical weakness.

The sounds of commotion at the saloon were more decided. There was the ominous galloping of horses, and the rattle of the wheels of a buckboard. Peter glanced at the window. The sky outside was lightening. Suddenly he shivered.

"You killed him. How? How?" His voice was tense and harsh, though he strove to soften it.

But Elia had turned sullen. A fierce resentment held him silent, resentment and fear.

And in that moment of waiting for his answer Peter heard again the movements of the cavalcade at the saloon. It seemed to be under way for--the bluff.

Now he leaned toward the boy, and his great honest brow was sweating with apprehension.

"Elia," he said. "If I go and tell them they'll hang you, too. Do you understand? I'm not going to bluff you. This is just fact. They'll hang you if I tell them. And I'm going to tell them, sure, if you don't do as I say. If you do as I say they won't touch you. You've got to come along with me and tell them you killed Will, and just why.

They're men, those fellers, and they'll be real sorry for you. You've got to tell the whole truth just as it happened, and I give you my word they won't touch you. You'll save Jim's life. Jim who was always good to you. Jim who went out to the bluff to save you from Will. You needn't to be scared," as signs of fresh terror broke out upon the boy's face, "you needn't to be scared any. I'll be there with you----"