Whereupon the rancher, his feelings being much injured, and his trust in mankind in general shattered, did as many a wiser man has done before him,—made himself very drunk, and in his cups told all that he knew to two women and a man. "I'd like to know whose affair it is, if it ain't his, the measly sneak3. He sicked me on,"—oaths, as the grammars phrase it, "understood." The tears dribbled4 off his fierce mustache, and the women and the man laughed at him, but they were quite as drunk as he was, and they forgot all about it at once. Lawton did not forget. He thought of it a great deal, and the more he thought, the more he wanted revenge.
Now if one cannot have revenge upon the real malefactor5 himself, because one is afraid of him, there is still satisfaction to be derived6, to a certain extent, from[Pg 204] wreaking7 it upon the innocent, of whom one is not afraid. Lawton felt, in his simple soul, that Stone was astute8 with the astuteness9 of the devil and all his angels. On the other hand, he believed the government to be dull. It was big, but it was stupid. Was not the whole frontier evidence of that fact to him? Clearly, then, the government was the one to be got even with.
He had been in hiding three weeks. Part of the time he had stayed in the town near the post, small, but as frontier towns went, eminently10 respectable and law-abiding. For the rest he had lain low in a house of very bad name at the exact edge of the military reservation. The poison of the vile11 liquor he had drunk without ceasing had gotten itself into his brain. He had reached the criminal point, not bold,—he was never that,—but considerably12 more dangerous, upon the whole. He drank more deeply for two days longer, after he received Stone's letter, and then, when he was quite mad, when his eyes were bleared and fiery13 and his head was dry and hot and his heart terrible within him, he went out into the black night.
It was still early. The mountain echoes had not sung back the tattoo14 of the trumpets15 as yet. There was a storm coming on from the snow peak in the west, and the clouds, dark with light edges, were thick in the sky. Lawton was sober enough now. Not so far away in its little pocket among the hills he could see the post, with all its lights twinkling, as though one of the clear starry16 patches in the heavens were reflected[Pg 205] in a black lake in the valley. And the road stretched out faint and gray before him.
He went in through the gate, and was once more upon that reservation he had been commanded by the overbearing tyrant17 representative of the military to leave, several weeks before. As he trudged18 along, tattoo went. In the clear silence, beneath the sounding-boards of the low clouds, he heard the voice of one of the sergeants20. He shook his fist in the direction. Tattoo being over, some of the lights were put out, but there were still plenty to guide him. He did not want to get there too early, so he walked more slowly, and when he came to the edge of the garrison21, he hesitated.
The chances of detection would certainly be less if he should go back of the officers' quarters, instead of the barracks. But to do that he would have to cross the road which led from the trader's to the quadrangle, and he would surely meet some one, if it were only some servant girl and her lover. He had observed and learned some things in his week of waiting in the post—that week which otherwise had gone for worse than nothing. He took the back of the barracks, keeping well away from them, stumbling in and out among rubbish heaps. He had no very clear idea of what he meant to do, or of why he was going in this particular direction; but he was ready for anything that might offer to his hand. If he came upon Landor or the adjutant or any of them, he would put a knife into him. But he was not going to the trouble of hunting[Pg 206] them out. And so he walked on, and came to the haystacks, looming22, denser23 shadows against the sky.
Then taps sounded, ringing its brazen24 dirge25 to the night in a long, last note. It ended once, but the bugler26 went to the other side of the parade and began again. Lawton repeated the shaking of his fist. He was growing impatient, and also scared. A little more of that shrill28 music, and his nerves would go into a thousand quivering shreds29—he would be useless. Would the cursed, the many times cursed military never get to bed? He waited in the shadow of the corrals, leaning against the low wall, gathering30 his forces. The sentry31 evidently did not see him. The post grew more and more still, the clouds more and more thick.
Gradually it began to form itself in his softened32 brain what he meant to do. It is safest to avenge33 oneself upon dumb beasts, after all. By and by he began to feel along the adobe34 wall, and when he found a niche35 for his foot, he started to clamber up. He had climbed so many corral walls, to sit atop of them with his great, booted legs dangling36, and meditatively37 whittle38 when he should have been at work, that it was easy for him, and in a moment he was on the shingled39 roof, lying flat. In another he had dropped down upon a bed of straw.
He put out his hand and touched a warm, smooth flank. The horse gave a little low whinny. Quick as a flash he whipped out his knife and hamstrung it, not that one only, but ten other mules40 and horses before[Pg 207] he stopped. He groped from stall to stall, and in each cut just once, unerringly and deep, so that the poor beast, which had turned its head and nosed at the touch of the hand of one of those humans who had always been its friends, was left writhing42, with no possible outcome but death with a bullet in its head.
He was waking now to his work. But he had enough of horses. He stopped, sheathed43 his knife, and, feeling in his pockets, drew out a box of matches. A little spluttering flame caught in a pile of straw, and showed a hind44 foot dragging helplessly. It crept up, and the mule41 plunged45 on three legs, dragging the other along. It snorted, and then every animal in that corral, which was the quartermaster's, smelt46 danger and snorted too, and struck from side to side of its stall. Those in the next corral caught the fear.
If the sentry outside heard, he paid no attention. It was common enough for the horses to take a simultaneous fit of restlessness in the night, startled by some bat flapping through the beams or by a rat scurrying47 in the grain. In ten minutes more a flame had reached the roof. In another ten minutes the sentry had discharged his carbine three times, fire call had been sounded in quick, alarming notes, and men and officers, half dressed, had come running from the barracks and the line.
Any other fire—excepting always in an ammunition48 magazine—is easier to handle than one in a stable. It takes time to blind plunging49 horses and lead them out singly. And there is no time to take. Hay and straw[Pg 208] and gunny-sacks and the dry wood of the stable go up like tinder. It has burned itself out before you can begin to extinguish it.
There were four corrals in the one, and two of them were on fire. They had spread wet blankets on the roof of the third, but it, too, caught directly. The big, yellow-hearted flames poured up into the sky. The glow was cast back again from the blackness of the low clouds, and lit up the ground with a dazing shimmer50. It blinded and burned and set the rules of fire drill pretty well at naught51, when the only water supply was in small buckets and a few barrels, and the horses had kicked over two of the latter.
In the corral where the fire had started and was best under way, and in the stall farthest from the gate, a little pinto mustang was jerking at its halter and squealing52 with fear. It was Cairness's horse. He had been allowed to stable it there, and he himself was not down with his scouts53 in the ill-smelling camp across the creek54, but had a room at the sutler's store, a good three-quarters of a mile from the corrals. As soon as the bugle27 call awoke him, he started at a run; but the fire was beyond fighting when he got there.
He grabbed a man at the gate, who happened to be the quartermaster sergeant19 himself, and asked if his horse had been taken out.
The sergeant spent more time upon the oaths with which he embellished55 the counter-question as to how he should know anything about it, than would have been consumed in a civil explanation.
[Pg 209]
Cairness dropped him and went into the corrals to see for himself. The fire roared and hissed56, flung charred57 wood into the air, and let it fall back again. He remembered, in an inconsequent flash, how one night in the South Pacific he had taken a very pretty girl below to see the engines. They had stood in the stoke-hole on a heap of coal, hand in hand, down beneath the motion of the decks where the only movement seemed to be the jar of the screw working against the thrust block and the reverberation58 of the connecting-rod and engines. A luckless, dust-caked wretch59 of a stoker had thrown open the door of a furnace in front of them, and they had seen the roaring, sputtering60, seething61 whirl of fire within. They had given a simultaneous cry, hiding their scorched62 faces in their arms, and stumbled blindly over the coal beds back to the clattering63 of the engine rooms.
It had all been very like this, only that this was a little worse, for there were half a dozen dead animals lying across the stalls, and others were being shot. The pistols snapped sharply, and the smell of powder was more pungent64 than all the other smells.
He passed an officer who had a smoking six-shooter in his hand, and yelled in his ear, "Why are you doing that?" He had forgotten that it was by no means his place to question.
"Been hamstrung," the officer bawled65 back hoarsely66.
In the end stall the bronco was still squealing and whimpering in an almost human key. He struck it on the flank with his open palm and spoke67, "Get over[Pg 210] there." It had been made so much of a pet, and had been so constantly with him, that it was more intelligent than the average of its kind. It got over and stood quiet and still, trembling. He cut the halter close to the knot, turned it out of the stall, and flinging himself across its back dug his heels into its belly68.
Just for a moment it hesitated, then started with the bronco spring, jumping the dead mules, shying from right to left and back again, and going out through the gates at a run. Cairness held on with his knees as he had learned to do when he had played at stock-rider around Katawa and Glen Lomond in the days of his boyhood, as he had done since with the recruits at hurdle69 drill, or when he had chased a fleet heifer across the prairie and had had no time to saddle. He could keep his seat, no fear concerning that, but it was all he could do. The pony70 was not to be stopped. He had only what was left of the halter shank by way of a bridle71, and it was none at all. A Mexican knife bit would hardly have availed.
They tore on, away from the noise of the flames, of the falling timber and the shouted commands, around the haystacks so close to the barbed-wire fence that the barbs72 cut his boot, off by the back of the quarters, and then upon the road that led from the reservation. If the pony could be kept on that road, there was small danger from dog holes. He would run himself out in time. The length of time was what was uncertain, however. A cow-pony can go a good many hours at a stretch.
[Pg 211]
Cairness sat more erect73, and settled down to wait. The motion was so swift that he hardly felt it. He turned his head and looked back at the flaming corrals, and, remembering the dead animals, wondered who had hamstrung them. Then he peered forward again the little way he could see along the road, and began to make out that there was some one ahead of him. Whoever it was scurrying ahead there, bent74 almost double in his speed, was the one who had hamstrung the mules and horses, and who had set fire to the corrals. The pony was rather more under control now. It could be guided by the halter shank.
The man, still running, dodged75 from the road and started across country. Cairness wheeled and followed him. It was open ground, with not so much as a scrub oak or a rock in sight. The thick darkness offered the only chance of escape. But Cairness had chased yearlings in nights as black, and had brought them back to the herd76. Down by the creek where the trees were thick, there would have been a good chance for escape, almost a certainty indeed, but there was little here. The man dodged again. It was just to that very thing that the pony had been trained. Habit got the better of stampede with it. It, too, dodged sharply.
Cairness leaned far over and made a grab, but the first time he missed. The second he caught the neckerchief and held it, dragging the man, who resisted with all his giant strength, digging his toes into the ground as they tore along. And he was heavy. [Pg 212]Cairness had no stirrup or pommel to trust to. He saw that it was a case of falling or of leaving go, and he decided77 to fall. The man would go underneath78 anyway.
The man did go underneath and bravely offered resistance. Cairness had the twofold strength of his wiry build and of his bull-dog race. But Lawton—he knew it was Lawton now—would have been stronger yet, save that the three weeks' spree had told, and he was breathless.
Cairness sat across him and held a revolver to his mouth. The life of the plains teaches agility79 of various sorts, but chiefly in the matter of drawing a six-shooter. "You fired the corrals," Cairness gasped80.
The fall had knocked the breath from his body. The under dog did not answer.
"And you hamstrung those horses."
No answer still.
"Why did you do it?"
No answer.
"I'll break your jaws81 if you don't open them." The jaws opened forthwith, but no sound came, and Lawton struggled feebly.
It occurred to Cairness then that with no breath in your lungs and with twelve stone on your chest, speech is difficult. He slid off and knelt beside the rancher, still with the revolver levelled. "Now, why did you do it, eh?" He enforced the "eh" with a shake.
"I dunno. I didn't."
"Didn't you, then? You did, though, and you can[Pg 213] go back with me till we find out why. Give me your firearms. Lively!"
Lawton produced a brace83 of revolvers.
"And your knife."
He handed it over also.
"Now you get up and walk in front of me, and don't you try to bolt. I can run faster than you can, and, anyway, I'll shoot you if you try it."
Lawton moved ahead a few steps; then he began to cry, loudly, blubbering, his nerves gone all to shreds. He implored84 and pleaded and wailed85. He hadn't known what he was doing. He had been drunk. They had treated him badly about the beef contract. Stone had gone back on him. The oaths that he sobbed86 forth82 were not new to Cairness, but they were very ugly.
"Cheese that cussing, do you hear?" he ordered.
Lawton stopped. To forbid him swearing was to forbid him speech. He shuffled87 ahead in silence.
When Cairness got him to the post and turned him over to the officer-of-the-day, the fire had burned itself out and quiet was settling down again. Big warm drops were beginning to splash from the clouds.
The officer-of-the-day put Lawton into the care of the guard and asked Cairness in to have a drink, calling him "my good man." Cairness was properly aware of the condescension88 involved in being asked into an officer's dining room, but he objected to being condescended89 to by a man who doubled his negatives, and he refused.
[Pg 214]
"Is there anything, then, that I can do for you? the officer asked. His intentions were good; Cairness was bound to realize that, too.
"Yes, sir," he answered; "you can see that I get a mounted man and a horse at reveille to-morrow. I want to hunt for my pony. I lost it when I caught that man."
The officer-of-the-day agreed. And Cairness, not having a hat to raise, forgot himself and saluted90. Then he went back to the sutler's through the already pelting91 rain. He was glad he had caught Lawton, mainly because of what he hoped to get out of him yet, about the Kirby affair. But he was sorry for the big clumsy fool, too. He had been an easy-going, well-intentioned boss in the days when Cairness had been his hand. And, too, he was sorry, very sorry, about the pony. If it were to fall into the hands of Mexicans or even of some of the Mescalero Indians, his chances of seeing it again would be slight. And he was fond of it, mainly because it had helped him to save Mrs. Landor's life.
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1
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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qualified
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| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
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3
sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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4
dribbled
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| v.流口水( dribble的过去式和过去分词 )；（使液体）滴下或作细流；运球，带球 | |
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5
malefactor
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| n.罪犯 | |
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6
derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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7
wreaking
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| 诉诸（武力），施行（暴力），发（脾气）( wreak的现在分词 ) | |
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8
astute
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| adj.机敏的，精明的 | |
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9
astuteness
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| n.敏锐；精明；机敏 | |
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10
eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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12
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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13
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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14
tattoo
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| n.纹身，(皮肤上的)刺花纹；vt.刺花纹于 | |
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15
trumpets
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| 喇叭( trumpet的名词复数 )； 小号； 喇叭形物； （尤指）绽开的水仙花 | |
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16
starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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17
tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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18
trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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19
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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20
sergeants
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| 警官( sergeant的名词复数 )； （美国警察）警佐； （英国警察）巡佐； 陆军（或空军）中士 | |
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21
garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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22
looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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23
denser
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| adj. 不易看透的, 密集的, 浓厚的, 愚钝的 | |
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24
brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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25
dirge
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| n.哀乐，挽歌，庄重悲哀的乐曲 | |
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26
bugler
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| 喇叭手； 号兵； 吹鼓手； 司号员 | |
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27
bugle
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| n.军号，号角，喇叭；v.吹号，吹号召集 | |
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28
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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29
shreds
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| v.撕碎，切碎( shred的第三人称单数 )；用撕毁机撕毁（文件） | |
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30
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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31
sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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32
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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33
avenge
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| v.为...复仇，为...报仇 | |
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34
adobe
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| n.泥砖，土坯，美国Adobe公司 | |
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35
niche
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| n.壁龛；合适的职务(环境、位置等) | |
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36
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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37
meditatively
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| adv.冥想地 | |
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38
whittle
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| v.削（木头），削减；n.屠刀 | |
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39
shingled
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| adj.盖木瓦的；贴有墙面板的v.用木瓦盖(shingle的过去式和过去分词形式) | |
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40
mules
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| 骡( mule的名词复数 )； 拖鞋； 顽固的人； 越境运毒者 | |
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41
mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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42
writhing
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的现在分词 ) | |
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43
sheathed
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| adj.雕塑像下半身包在鞘中的；覆盖的；铠装的；装鞘了的v.将（刀、剑等）插入鞘( sheathe的过去式和过去分词 )；包，覆盖 | |
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44
hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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45
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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46
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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47
scurrying
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的现在分词 ) | |
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48
ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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49
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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50
shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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51
naught
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| n.无，零 [=nought] | |
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52
squealing
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| v.长声尖叫，用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的现在分词 ) | |
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53
scouts
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| 侦察员[机，舰]( scout的名词复数 )； 童子军； 搜索； 童子军成员 | |
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54
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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55
embellished
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| v.美化( embellish的过去式和过去分词 )；装饰；修饰；润色 | |
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56
hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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57
charred
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| v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式)；烧焦 | |
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reverberation
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| 反响； 回响； 反射； 反射物 | |
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wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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sputtering
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| n.反应溅射法；飞溅；阴极真空喷镀；喷射v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的现在分词 )；发劈啪声；喷出；飞溅出 | |
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seething
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| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
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scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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63
clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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pungent
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| adj.（气味、味道）刺激性的，辛辣的；尖锐的 | |
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bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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hurdle
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| n.跳栏，栏架；障碍，困难；vi.进行跨栏赛 | |
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pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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barbs
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| n.（箭头、鱼钩等的）倒钩( barb的名词复数 )；带刺的话；毕露的锋芒；钩状毛 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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agility
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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86
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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87
shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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condescension
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| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
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89
condescended
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| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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pelting
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| 微不足道的，无价值的，盛怒的 | |
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