Part 15 (2/2)

The Memorable Trip to Deadwood

It was a long, hard journey, and it was one o'clock in the morning before they reached Deadwood. Every public house that could get a license to sell liquor announced itself as a ”hotel.” Those few that could not, made a virtue of their failure and flaunted a sign, ”Temperance House.” The ”wet houses” were on the main gulch, the ”dry”

ones in off nooks, or perched on breezy hills. To the best of these latter the doctor drove, had the luck to find the owner still on duty, and secured a room for himself. Then they drove to the home of Belle's aunt, Mrs. Collins. One has to take a hotel on its rules; but a relative may be called up and inconvenienced at any time.

”Well, Auntie, it's Belle Boyd. I want you to take care of me till the morning. I will tell you all about it later,” this to the inquiring head that emerged from an upper window. So Belle was left and the doctor went to his hotel.

Up very early next morning, Belle went at once to the stable of the Temperance House. Yes, there he was, Blazing Star, in all his beauty.

Then she went into the hotel and mounted guard in the little parlour.

Dr. Carson came down and was sent to sit out of doors. At length the sound of the foot she awaited came from the stairs and she heard the landlady say:

”There's some one in the parlour waiting for you.” For a moment there was no sound; then the footsteps approached.

Belle was at the window looking out, partly hidden by the cheap lace curtains. As the Preacher entered, she turned fully toward him. Her back was to the light and he did not immediately perceive her. Then with a gasp:

”Belle!” and, sinking into a chair, he covered his face with his hands.

She went to him, laid her hand on his shoulder, and stood there in silence. The great broad shoulders began to shake under that soft touch.

There was no sound uttered for long, then, brokenly, his one refrain: ”Oh, Belle!”

She sat down beside him, and took his hand--the first time she had ever done so--and waited in silence.

He wanted to tell her all, but found no words.

She said, ”Never mind that now. Tell me what you are here for.”

He tried again but in a wild, incoherent way. The sum of it all was that he was ”ruined, degraded, and lost. He would go down to the Big Cheyenne and get a job as a cowboy.”

”Now listen, Jim,” she said. ”You have made a bad mistake; but a man may make one big, bad mistake and still be all right. It is the man that goes on making a little mistake every day that is hopeless.”

There was a long pause. Then she continued: ”What is it you of all people admire most in a man? Is it not courage to see things through, no matter how black they look?”

In his then frame of mind Hartigan had expected drunkenness to be singled out as the worst of all sins; there was a ray of comfort in this other thought; he nodded and grunted an inarticulate a.s.sent.

”Jim, I don't doubt your courage. I know you too well, believe in you too much. I want you to drop the idea of the Big Cheyenne. Turn right around and go back to Cedar Mountain at once; and the sooner you get there the easier it will be.”

He shook his head, and sat as before, his face buried in his hands.

”I--cannot--do--it.” He forced out the words.

”Jim Hartigan cannot--isn't brave enough?” she asked, her voice a little tremulous with sudden emotion.

In all his life, he had never been charged with cowardice. It stung. Of all things he most despised cowardice, and here it was, brought squarely home to him. He writhed under the thought. There was a dead silence in the little parlour.

Then Belle spoke: ”Is this the only answer I am to have--after coming so far?” she asked in a low voice.

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