Part 34 (1/2)
Jenks was speaking.
”So the fust chance you get you might as well walk straight into him, call him all the names you can lay tongue to, and when he makes a move for his gun beat him to the draw and come up shootin'. Then it'll be over with.
The longer it hangs, the less peace you'll have; for you've got to do it sooner or later. It's you or him.”
”Not necessarily,” I faltered. ”There may be another way.”
”There ain't, if you're a he critter on two legs,” snapped Jenks. ”Not in this country or any other white man's country; no, nor in red man's country neither. What you do back in the States, can't say. Trust in pray'r, mebbe.”
Nevertheless I determined to make a last effort even at the risk of losing caste. In the reaction from the pressure of that recent encounter when I might have killed, but didn't, I again had a spell of fierce, sick protest against the role being foisted upon me--foisted, I could see, by her machinations as well as by his animosity. The position was too false to be borne. There was no joy in it, no zest, no adequate reward. Why, in G.o.d's name, should I be sentenced to have blood upon my hands and soul? Surely I might be permitted to stay clean.
Therefore this evening immediately after corral was formed I sought out Captain Adams, as master of the train; and disregarding the gazes that followed me and that received me I spoke frankly, here at his own wagon, without preliminary.
”Daniel and I appear to be at outs, sir,” I said. ”Why, I do not know, except that he seems to have had a dislike for me from the first day. If he'll let me alone I'll let him alone. I'm not one to look for trouble.”
His heavy face, with those thick pursed lips and small china blue eyes, changed not a jot.
”Daniel will take care of himself.”
”That is his privilege,” I answered. ”I am not here to question his rights, Captain, as long as he keeps within them; but I don't require of him to take care of me also. If he will hold to his own trail I'll hold to mine, and I a.s.sure you there'll be no trouble.”
”Daniel will take care of himself, I say,” he reiterated. ”Yes, and look after all that belongs to him, stranger. There's no use threatening Daniel. What he does he does as servant of the Lord and he fears naught.”
”Neither do I, sir,” I retorted hotly. ”One may wish to avoid trouble and still not fear it. I have not come to you with complaint. I merely wish to explain. You are captain of the train and responsible for its conduct. I give you notice that I shall defend myself against insult and annoyance.”
I turned on my heel--sensed poised forms and inquiring faces; and his booming voice stayed me.
”A moment, stranger. Your talk is big. What have you to do with this woman Edna?”
”With Mrs. Montoyo? What I please, if it pleases her, sir. If she claims your protection, very good. Should she claim mine, she'll have it.” And there, confound it, I had spoken. ”But with this, Daniel has nothing to do. I believe that the lady you mention is simply your present guest and my former acquaintance.”
”You err,” he thundered, darkening. ”You cannot be expected to see the light. But I say to you, keep away, keep away. I will have no gallivanting, no cozening and smiling and prating and distracting. She must be nothing to you. Never can be, never shall be. Her way is appointed, the instrument chosen, and as a sister in Zion she shall know you not. Now get you gone----” a favorite expression of his. ”Get you gone, meddle not hereabouts, and I'll see to it that you are spared from harm.”
Surprising myself, and perhaps him, I gazed full at him and laughed without reserve or irritation.
”Thank you, Captain,” I heard myself saying. ”I am perfectly capable of self-protection. And I expect to remain a friend of Mrs. Montoyo as long as she permits me. For your bl.u.s.ter and Daniel's I care not a sou. In fact, I consider you a pair of d.a.m.ned body-s.n.a.t.c.hers. Good-evening.”
Then out I stormed, boiling within, reckless of opposition--even courting it; but met none, Daniel least of all (for he was elsewhere), until as I pa.s.sed on along the lined-up wagons I heard my name uttered breathlessly.
”Mr. Beeson.”
It was not My Lady; her I had not glimpsed. The gentle English girl Rachael had intercepted me. She stood between two wagons, whither she had hastened.
”You will be careful?”
”How far, madam?”
”Of yourself, and for her. Oh, be careful. You can gain nothing.”
Her face and tone entreated me. She was much in earnest, the roses of her round cheeks paled, her hands clasped.
”I shall only look out for myself,” said I. ”That seems necessary.”