Part 44 (1/2)

He had never let go her hand, nor stopped the anguished moving of his body.

”I didn't want over much to kill him,” he was again saying. ”As I laid there behind a log, watchin' him foolin' around, I almost wanted to creep away. An' when he turned his back to go in the cabin, my finger'd hardly pull the trigger--it reminded me so much of that time I laid my sights on the back of old Bill Whitly's head--”

”What?” she screamed, springing back in a perfect agony of horror.

”What?”

He stared at her, amazed and even frightened by this new, this terribly new, ring in her voice. She was raising her hands slowly to her throat, and shrinking away--shrinking back against the wall as though he were some loathsome thing upon which she had suddenly and unexpectedly come.

”What's the matter?” he cried, forgetting his own feelings in this new alarm.

”Did--you--kill--Bill--Whitly?”

”Yes,” he answered, not understanding. ”Why?”

The room was sickeningly quiet, except for her breathing. He could have almost sworn her eyes were crackling and snapping as they stared at him.

”Why?” she repeated. ”Can you ask any one of my name in the mountains, why?”

”I never thought,” he whispered in a terrified voice, ”you belonged to _those_ Whitlys!” And as he looked more closely at her face the truth slowly crept into his brain. Pa.s.sionately his hands went out to her, as he took a trembling step forward: ”My Gawd, my Gawd, Miss Jane! Don't tell me that I done _that_! Don't tell me it war _yoh_ Pappy!”

The telephone was on the wall of this room. Keeping the long table between them, she crossed quickly and turned the little crank.

Recognizing the town operator's voice she frantically called:

”Miss Gregget, this is Jane Whitly!--well, never mind the name!--this is Colonel May's house!” She was numb, and fearful of those pa.s.sionate hands which might any instant drag her from the instrument. ”Tell the sheriff to come quick!” she screamed. ”Dale Dawson has killed Tusk Potter!”

With this she sprang about, her back to the wall and at bay, to receive the infuriated mountaineer's charge. But he had not moved. He stood just where she had left him; looking at her, now again swaying his body in that tense, sullen motion. And suddenly she began to laugh, leaning forward in a crouching att.i.tude, her hands clenched close to her knees.

”You didn't think, when you laid my Pappy across our door sill, that he'd be avenged by a girl, did you!”

He only looked at her, staring in a dull, hopeless sort of way that would have struck pity into the heart of anyone not so blinded by pa.s.sion.

”You didn't think, did ye,” she taunted, with direful malice darting from her eyes, and a.s.suming the mountain dialect so her words would carry a sharper sting, ”that Dale Dawson could be headed off, did ye!

Yo' sorry life of ignorance never went so fur as ter reckon that poh, ole Bill Whitly, shot down from behind, 'd be so sure in gittin'

vengeance, did ye! Ye thought my Pappy war the last of his line, jest as you're the last of yourn!” Her laugh now became quite uncontrollable, but between gasps she still fired taunts at him. ”Didn't reckon yo' G.o.d Natur' could raise some-un weaker'n ye ter crush ye out! Didn't reckin hit war likely the last Dawson 'd be fetched down by the last Whitly--'n' her a gal!”

As she descended to this, he arose. The next time she looked at him through laughter and blinding tears, he was standing straight and still, gazing calmly back at her. There was no motion to his body now, and his hands were hanging inertly open at his sides. Slowly he crossed to her and, with a dignity that was commanding, said:

”There'll be one left on my side, and that'll just balance your's. It's the one who patched up that truce--that truce what ain't been broke by any one of us, till now! But she's blind, an' maybe don't count for much!”

Ah, the blind sister! She had forgotten her. The blind sister; that physically helpless one whose spiritual strength had put into motion this big, hulking frame of purpose, with its absorbing brain, to square his shoulders before the world and succeed! A softness, a womanly tenderness, came knocking at the door of Jane's heart, but she would not hear. Dale looked down at her resentful face; but he felt no awe of her now--this was the kind he understood!

”The mountains are so full of Whitlys, that I never thought of placin'

you as Bill's girl--I don't remember even knowin' that he had a girl!

Why'd you take me in school?”

”How did I know who killed him!” she answered, in a hard, dry voice.