Part 14 (1/2)
John Gaspar closed his eyes and opened them again. Otherwise he made no move of protest.
”But not,” continued Sinclair, ”from this cottonwood tree.”
A faint sigh, indubitably of relief, came from the posse.
Riley Sinclair arose. ”Gents,” he said, ”I been thinking this over.
They ain't any doubt that the prisoner is guilty, and they ain't any doubt that John Gaspar is no good, anyway you look at him. But a gent that can put the words together like he can, ought to get a chance to talk in front of a regular jury. I figure we'd better send for the sheriff to come over from Woodville and take the prisoner back there.
One of you gents can slide over there today, and the sheriff'll be here tomorrow, mostlike.”
”But who'll take charge of Gaspar?”
”Who? Why me, of course! Unless somebody else would like the job more?
I'll keep him right here in the Bent cabin.”
”Sinclair,” protested Buck Mason, ”you're a pretty capable sort. They ain't no doubt of that. But what if Jerry Bent comes home, which he's sure to do before night? There'd be a mess, because Jerry'd fight for Gaspar, I know!”
”Partner,” said Riley Sinclair dryly, ”if it come to that, then I guess I'd have to fight back.”
It was foolish to question the power in that grave, sardonic face. The other men gave way, nodding one by one. Secretly each man, now that the excitement was gone, was glad that they had not proceeded to the last extremity. In five minutes they were drifting away, and all this time Sinclair watched the face of John Gaspar, as the sorrow changed to wonder, and the wonder to the vague beginnings of happiness.
Suddenly he felt that he had the clue to the mystery of Cold Feet. As a matter of fact John Gaspar had never grown up. He was still a weak, dreamy boy.
10
The posse had hardly thrown its masks to the wind and galloped down the road when Sally Bent came running from the house.
”I knew they couldn't,” she cried to John Gaspar. ”I knew they wouldn't dare. The cowards! I'll remember every one of them!”
”Hus.h.!.+” murmured Gaspar. His faint smile was for Riley Sinclair. ”One of them is still here, you see!”
With wrath flus.h.i.+ng her face, the girl looked at Riley.
”How do you dare to stay here and face me--after the things you said!”
”Lady,” replied Sinclair, ”you mean after the things I made you say.”
”Just wait till Jerry comes,” exclaimed Sally.
At this Sinclair grew more sober.
”Honey,” he said dryly, ”when your brother drops in, you just calm him down, will you? Because if him and Gaspar together was to start in raising trouble--well, they'd be more action than you ever seen in that cabin before. And, after it was all over, they'd have a dead Gaspar to cart over to Woodville. You can lay to that!”
It took Sally somewhat aback, this confident ferociousness.
”Them that brag ain't always the ones that do things,” she declared.
”But why are you staying here?”
”To keep Gaspar till the sheriff comes for him.”