Part 14 (1/2)

And so help me! He would have struck! Never tell me a man is this and that. A man is everything. In his right mind, nothing an Apache invented would have forced Arthur Saxton to do such a thing--no fear on earth, nor no profit on earth would have tempted him for an instant. But now he would have struck.

I grabbed his wrist.

”You fool!” I cried, ”what are you doing?” He clipped me bang in the eye. Saxton was a strong man, weakened by whisky. I was twice as strong and braced with rage.

I whirled him around and slammed him on the floor.

Something cold pressed against my temple. It was a revolver in the hands of Perez. ”Your life for it, if you hurt him,” said he.

For a second, I meant to quit that place in disgust. Then the size of it took hold of me. It doesn't matter whether a thing is wise or not--in fact, you never can tell whether a thing is wise or not--but if it has a size to it, it suits me.

I thought for a minute. There we stood, me holding Saxton, Perez holding me--just that little, cold touch, you'd think might be pleasant on a hot day.

”I hope you ain't nervous, Mr. Perez?” says I, to gain time.

”What?” says he, kind of befuzzled. ”No, I am not nervous.”

”That's right,” says I, hearty. ”Don't try to see how hard that trigger pulls, or you'll disturb my thoughts.” Then I made up my mind.

”Saxton,” says I, ”if there's a remnant in you of the man you once was, get your friend to leave, and take the licking you deserve.”

I looked down at him--the man was back again! Talk about your moral suasion, I tell you there's a time when only one thing counts. I'd done more for Arthur Saxton by slamming him down on the floor than the doctors and preachers could have brought about in ten years. He went down _hard_, mind you. Yes, sir, there was the old Saxton, with his forehead frowned up because his head hurt, but the old, kindly, funny little smile on his lips.

”Perez,” he said, ”run away and let the bad little boy get his spanking--although, Bill,” he went on, ”if it's reformation you're after, I don't need it.” He laughed up at me. ”You think I'm trying to dodge payment, but, so help me, I'm not, Billy boy.”

To see him like that, his laughing self again, after the nightmare we'd just been through, set me to sniveling--darn it, I was excited and only a kid, but I cried--yes, I cried. And Perez, he cried.

”N-nice way for you to act,” says I, ”and s-spoil all a poor boy's got to respect.”

The awful slush of that struck us all, and we broke out into a laugh together--a wibbly kind of laugh, but it served.

Arthur got up and dusted his clothes. He shook fearfully. I never saw a man in worse shape and still be able to stand. Two weeks of a steady diet of French brandy on top of trouble will put a man outside the ordinary run, or inside his long home.

It was fine, the way he gathered himself. He brought something like what he ought to be out of the wreck in two minutes.

”Now,” he says steady, ”I owe you fellows something--I owe you a great deal, Perez--I'd started to finish on the alcohol route. I don't like the company I keep. If I'm going to die I'll die with a better man than you stopped, Bill. In fact, I think my kid fit is over. I reckon I'll try to live like a man, and as a start I'm going to tell you both what ails me--to have it out for once. So help me, it isn't for myself--it's for you, Henry. You've invested time and money in me, and you sha'n't lose it. If you know what you're up against, you may be able to help me help myself. I'm sick of myself. All my life I have kept my mouth shut, out of a foolish pride. The little sacrifice will be something on the altar of friends.h.i.+p, Henry, old man. Come along to my room.”

XI

SAXTON'S STORY

We seated ourselves around the table in Saxton's bedroom.

”Perez,” said Saxton, ”you know from the beginning the boy and girl love affair between me and Mary Smith. It was no small thing for me. I cared then and I care now. I think the one thing which stood between Mary and myself as the greatest point of difference was my trick of stripping things to the bare facts. She liked romance, whether fact or not; I liked the romance that lay in fact. She cared for me--that is certain, but some reports when I was about nineteen to the effect that I was raising the devil, and had led a weak-headed fellow astray with me, seemed to give the girl a permanent twist against me. Now here's the truth. In our little town we had a number of men who earned comfortable fortunes and then laid back. Their boys, with nothing to do and nothing in their heads, acted as one might suppose. They took to drinking and gambling, not because they were bad but simply to pa.s.s the time; the town was dull enough, G.o.d knows. Pretty soon the wilder crowd became an open scandal. Among them were some of my best friends, and I went with 'em, with as sincere a desire to line 'em up with decency again as any long-faced deacon in the town; but instead of spouting piety, I thought I would play their game until I could get 'em to play mine, that is, I took a drink with 'em, and I played some poker with 'em, all the while trying to show the strongest head and the most checks when it came to 'cash-up' in the poker game. I felt that if I could beat 'em, what I said would go.

”There was one mean scoundrel in the bunch--a hypocrite to the marrow.

He really was to blame for the worst outbreaks, but he pulled the long face when among respectable people. I wanted to get the best of that lad. If you're going to lead drinking men and gamblers, you've got to be the best drinker and the best card player in the bunch. The rest were empty-headed boys, who'd have taken up religion as quickly as faro bank, if some one led 'em to it. Well, I think I'd won out, if my friend the hypocrite, who was foxy enough in his way, hadn't back-capped me, by telling the town the evil of my ways. The first break was with my father. The news came to him carefully prepared. When I tried to explain my side, the disgusted incredulity of his face stopped me almost before I began. Father gave me my choice: to leave his house or to leave the company I kept. I cannot bear to be doubted. I made a choice. I left both the house and the company I kept. Father had been good to me; knowing how he felt, I would not disgrace him. Then I made my living with my fiddle.

”Mary at first believed in me, but they talked her out of it. If she'd doubted of her own mind, I wouldn't have cared so much, but to know me as she did, and then prefer the word of outsiders--well, I roared at her like a maniac; it was much like now, as sweetly reasonable and all. No wonder the girl was frightened. I haven't a doubt she felt that entertaining an interest for me was little better than criminal. At the same time the interest was there, and, like myself, she took a middle course by plunging with what heart she could into a dreary and hide-bound church. I drove her to it, and I paid the bill. If I could bring one half the sense into my own affairs that I can into some outside thing, I suppose I should sometime succeed. A little coaxing, an appeal for sympathy,--any show of gentleness on my part might have brought her round.--As we are, we are. I demanded, and here am I.