James Blaine Hawkins belonged to that class of men which is tired of working for wages. A certain percentage of that class is apparently4 tired of working for anything; James Blaine Hawkins formed a part of that percentage. His idea of raising range cattle was the popular one of sitting in the shade and watching the cattle grow. In all sincerity5 he agreed with Patricia that one simply cannot lose money in cattle.
I am going to say right here that James Blaine Hawkins owned many of the instincts for villainy. He actually sat in Patricia’s trustful presence and wondered just how far the law protected an absent owner of squatter6’s rights on a piece of unsurveyed land. He thought he would look it up. He believed that the man who lives on the place is the real squatter, and that Waddell, in leaving Johnnywater, had legally abandoned the place and had no right to sell his claim on it to Patricia or any one else.
James Blaine Hawkins did not look Patricia in the eyes and actually plan to rob her of Johnnywater, but he did sit there and wonder who would have the best title to the place, if he went and lived there for a year or two, and Patricia failed to live there at all. To James Blaine Hawkins it seemed but common justice that the man who lived on a ranch so isolated7, and braved the hardships of the wilderness8, should acquire unqualified title to the land. He did not discuss this point, however, with Patricia.
Patricia’s two hundred dollars had been easily obtained as an advance for supplies, which, under the terms of the contract, Patricia was to furnish. So James Blaine Hawkins was almost enthusiastic over the proposition and couldn’t see why three or four years at the most shouldn’t put him on Easy Street, which is rainbow’s end for all men of his type.
He made the trip without mishap9 to Las Vegas, and was fortunate enough to find there a man who could—and did—give him explicit10 directions for reaching Johnnywater. And along about four o’clock on the afternoon of the fourth day, Patricia’s new partner let down a new wire gate in the mended fence across the cañon just above the water hole, and gazed about him with an air of possession before he got into the car and drove on to the cabin. He did not know, of course, that the gate was very new indeed, or that the fence had been mended less than a week before. He was therefore considerably11 astonished when a young man with his sleeves rolled to his elbows and the wind blowing through his hair came walking out of the grove12 to meet him.
James Blaine Hawkins frowned. He felt so much the master of Johnnywater that he resented the sight of a trespasser13 who looked so much at home as did Gary Marshall. He grunted14 a gruff hello in response to Gary’s greeting, drove on into the dooryard and killed his engine.
Gary turned back and came close to the car. He was rather quick at reading a man’s mood from little, indefinable signs which would have been overlooked by another man. Something in the general attitude of James Blaine Hawkins spelled insolence15 which Gary instinctively16 challenged.
“Are you lost?” Gary asked rather noncommittally. “You’re pretty well off the beaten track, you know. This trail ends right here.”
“Well, that suits me. Right here is where I headed for. Might I ask what you’re doing here?”
“Why, I suppose you might.” Now that Gary had taken a good look at James Blaine Hawkins, he did not like him at all.
James Blaine Hawkins waited a reasonable time for Gary to say what he was doing in Johnnywater Cañon. But Gary did not say. He was rolling a cigarette with maddening precision and a nonchalant manner that was in itself an affront17; or so James Blaine Hawkins chose to consider it.
“Well, damn it, what are you doing here?” he blurted18 arrogantly19. James Blaine Hawkins was of the physical type which is frequently called beefy. His red face darkened and seemed to swell20.
“I? Why, I’m stopping here,” drawled Gary. “What are you doing here?”
James Blaine Hawkins leaned against the side of the car, folded his arms and spat21 into the dust. Then he laughed.
“I’m here to stay!” he announced somewhat pompously22. “I don’t reckon it’s any of your business, but I’ve got a half interest in this place—better ’n a half interest. I got what you might call a straight two thirds interest in everything. Two thirds and found.” He laughed again. “So, I guess mebby I got a right to know why you’re stopping here.”
Not for nothing was Gary Marshall an actor. When he learned to portray23 emotion before the camera, he also learned to conceal24 emotion. Not even Patricia in her most suspicious mood could have discovered how astonished, how utterly25 taken aback Gary was at that moment.
He lighted his cigarette, blew out the match and flipped26 it from him. He took three long, luxurious27 inhalations and studied James Blaine Hawkins more carefully from under the deep-fringed eyelashes that had helped to earn him a living. Patricia, he perceived, had been attacked by another “wonderful” idea. Though it seemed rather incredible that even the impulsive28 Patricia should have failed to read aright a man so true to type as was James Blaine Hawkins.
“Well, I’ve saved you a few tons of alfalfa hay,” Gary observed carelessly. “Fellow I was with left me here while he went on to another camp. I found Waddell gone, and my friend hasn’t come after me yet. So I’m stuck here for the present, you see. And Waddy’s hay needed cutting, so I cut it for him. Had to kill time somehow till he gets back.” Gary blew a leisurely29 mouthful of smoke. “Isn’t Waddell coming back?” he asked with exactly the right degree of concern in voice and manner.
James Blaine Hawkins studied that question for a minute. But he could see nothing to doubt or criticize in the elucidation30, so he decided31 to accept it at face value. He failed to see that Gary’s explanation had been merely suggested.
“Waddell, as you call him, has sold out to a girl in Los Angeles,” James Blaine Hawkins explained in a more friendly tone. “I got an agreement here to run the place on shares. I don’t know nothing about Waddell. He’s out of it.”
Gary’s eyebrows32 lifted slightly in what the camera would record as his terribly worried expression.
“He isn’t—in the—er—asylum, is he? Was I too late to save poor Waddy?”
James Blaine Hawkins looked blank.
“Save him from what? What yuh talkin’ about, anyway?”
Gary opened his lips to answer, then closed them and shook his head. When he really did speak it was quite plain to James Blaine Hawkins that he had reconsidered, and was not saying as much as he had at first intended to say.
“If you’re here to stay, I hope you’ll be all right and don’t have the same thing happen to you that happened to Waddy,” he said cautiously. “I think, myself, that Waddell had too keen an imagination. He was a nervous cuss, anyway; I really don’t think you’ll be bothered.”
“Bothered with what?” James Blaine Hawkins demanded impatiently. “I can’t see what you’re driving at.”
Gary gave him a little, secretive smile and the slight head-shake that always went with it on the screen.
“Well, I sure hope you never do—see.” And with that he deliberately34 changed the subject and refused artfully to be led back toward it.
He went in and started the fire going, saying that he knew a man couldn’t drive out from Las Vegas without being mighty35 hungry when he arrived. He made fresh coffee, warmed over his pot of Mexican beans cooked with chili36 peppers, and opened a can of blackberry jam for the occasion. He apologized for his biscuits, which needed no apology whatever. He went down to the creek37 and brought up the butter, bewailing the fact that there was so little of it. But then, as he took pains to explain again, he had not expected to stay so long when he arrived.
James Blaine Hawkins warmed perceptibly under the good-natured service he was getting. It was pleasant to have some one cook his supper for him after that long drive across the desert and it was satisfying to his vanity to be able to talk largely of his plans for running Johnnywater ranch at a profit. By the time he had mopped up his third helping38 of jam with his fourth hot biscuit, James Blaine Hawkins felt at peace with the world and with Gary Marshall, who was a fine young man and a good cook.
“Didn’t make such a bad deal with that girl,” he boasted, leaning back against the dish cupboard and heaving a sigh of repletion39. “Kinda had a white elephant on her hands, I guess. Had this place here and nobody to look after it. Yes, sir, time I’d talked with her awhile, she was ready to agree to every damned thing I said. Got my own terms, ab-so-lute-ly. Five years’ contract, and two thirds the increase of stock—cattle and horses—two thirds of all the crops—and found!”
“Get out!” exclaimed Gary, and grinned when he said it. “I suppose there are such snaps in the world, but I never saw one. She agreed to that? On paper?”
“On paper!” James Blaine Hawkins affirmed solemnly. He reached into his coat pocket (exactly as Gary had meant that he should). “Read it yourself,” he invited triumphantly40. “Guess that spells Easy Street in less than five years. Don’t it?”
“It’s a bird,” Gary assured him heartily41. Then his face clouded. He sat with his head slightly bowed, drumming with his fingers on the table, in frowning meditation42.
“What’s wrong?” James Blaine Hawkins looked at him anxiously. “Anything wrong with that contract?”
Gary started and with a noticeable effort pulled himself out of his mood. He laughed constrainedly43.
“The contract? Why, the contract’s all right—fine. I was just wondering——” He shook his shoulders impatiently. “But you’ll be all right, I guess. A man of your type——” He forced another laugh. “Of course it’s all right!”
“You got something on your mind,” James Blaine Hawkins challenged uneasily. “What is it? You needn’t be afraid to tell me.”
But Gary forced a laugh and declared that he had nothing at all on his mind. And by his very manner and tone James Blaine Hawkins knew that he was lying.
The mottled cat hopped44 upon the doorstep, hesitated when she saw James Blaine Hawkins sitting there, then walked in demurely45.
“Funny-looking cat,” James Blaine Hawkins commented carelessly.
Gary looked up at him surprisedly; saw the direction of his glance, and turned and looked that way with a blank expression of astonishment46.
“Cat? What cat?”
“That cat! Hell, can’t you see that cat?” James Blaine Hawkins leaned forward excitedly.
Gary’s glance wandered over the cabin floor. Toward Faith, over Faith and beyond Faith. He might have been a blind man for all the expression there was in his eyes. He turned and eyed James Blaine Hawkins curiously47.
“You mean to say you—you see a cat?” he asked solicitously48.
“Ain’t there a cat?” James Blaine Hawkins half rose from his seat and pointed49 a shaking finger. “Mean to tell me that ain’t a cat walkin’ over there to the bunk50?”
“Waddell used to see—a cat,” he murmured regretfully. “There used to be a cat that belonged to a man named Steve Carson, that built this cabin and used to live here. Steve disappeared very mysteriously awhile back. Five years or so ago. Ever since then——” He broke off suddenly. “Really, Mr. Hawkins, maybe I hadn’t better be telling you this. I didn’t think a man of your type would be bothered——”
“What about it?” A sallow streak52 had appeared around the mouth and nostrils53 of James Blaine Hawkins. “Yuh needn’t be afraid to go on and tell me. If that ain’t a cat——”
“There was a cat, a few years back,” Gary corrected himself gently. “There was the cat’s master, too. Now—they say there’s a Voice—away up on the bluff54, that calls and calls. Waddell—poor old duffer! He used to see Steve Carson—and the cat. It was, as you say, a funny-looking cat. White, I believe, with black spots and yellowish-brown spots. And half of its face was said to be white, with a blue eye in that side.”
Gary leaned forward, his arms folded on the table. His voice dropped almost to a whisper.
“Is that the kind of a cat you see?” he asked.
James Blaine Hawkins got up from the bench as if some extraneous55 force were pulling him up. His jaw56 sagged57. His eyes had in them a glassy look which Gary recognized at once as stark58 terror. A cold feeling went crimpling up Gary’s spine59 to his scalp.
James Blaine Hawkins was staring, not at the cat lying curled up on the bunk, but at something midway between the bunk and the door.
Gary could see nothing. But he had a queer feeling that he knew what it was that James Blaine Hawkins saw. The eyes of the man followed something to the bunk. Gary saw the cat lift its head and look, heard it mew lazily, saw it rise, stretch itself and hop33 lightly down. He saw that terrified stare of James Blaine Hawkins follow something to the open doorway60. The cat trotted61 out into the dusky warmth of the starlit night. It looked to Gary as if the cat were following some one—or some thing.
James Blaine Hawkins relaxed, drew a deep breath and looked at Gary.
“Did you see it?” he whispered, and licked his lips.
Gary shivered a little and shook his head. The three deep creases62 stood between his eyebrows, and his lips were pressed together so that the deep lines showed more distinctly beside his mouth.
“Didn’t yuh—honest?” James Blaine Hawkins whispered again.
Again Gary shook his head. He got up and began clearing the table, his hands not quite steady. He lifted the dented63 teakettle, saw that it needed water and picked up the bucket. He hesitated for an instant on the doorstep before he started to the creek. He heard a scrape of feet behind him on the rough floor and looked back. James Blaine Hawkins was following him like a frightened child.
They returned to the cabin, and Gary washed the dishes and swept the floor. James Blaine Hawkins sat with his back against the wall and smoked one cigarette after another, his eyes roving here and there. They did not talk at all until Gary had finished his work and seated himself on the bunk to roll a cigarette.
“What’s the matter with this damn place, anyway?” James Blaine Hawkins demanded abruptly64 in that tone of resentment65 with which a man tacitly acknowledges himself completely baffled.
“What would you say was the matter with it?” he countered. “I know that one man disappeared here very mysteriously. An Indian, so they tell me, heard a Voice calling, up on the bluff. He died soon afterwards. And I know Waddell was in a fair way to go crazy from staying here alone. But as to what ails68 the place—one man’s guess is as good as another man’s.” He lighted his cigarette. “I’ve quit guessing,” he added grimly.
“You think the cabin’s haunted?” James Blaine Hawkins asked him reluctantly.
Again Gary shrugged. “If the cabin’s haunted, the whole darn cañon is in the same fix,” he stated evenly. “You can’t drag an Indian in here with a rope.”
“It’s all damn nonsense!” James Blaine Hawkins asserted blusteringly.
Gary made no reply, but smoked imperturbably69, staring abstractedly at the floor.
“Wherever there’s a spook there’s a man at the back of it,” declared James Blaine Hawkins, gathering70 courage from the continued calm. “That was a man I seen standin’ by the bunk. Felt slippers71, likely as not—so he wouldn’t make no noise walkin’. He likely come in when I wasn’t looking. And yuh needn’t try to tell me,” he added defiantly72, “that wasn’t no cat!”
Gary turned his head slowly and looked at James Blaine Hawkins.
“If there was a cat,” he argued, “why the heck didn’t I see it? There’s nothing wrong with my eyes.”
“I dunno why you never seen it,” James Blaine Hawkins retorted pettishly73. “I seen it, plain as I see you this minute. Funny you never seen it. I s’pose you’ll say next yuh never seen that man standin’ there by the bunk! He went outside, and the cat follered him.”
Gary looked up quickly. “I didn’t see any man,” he said gravely. “There wasn’t any man. I think you just imagined it. Waddell used to imagine the same thing. And he used to see a cat. He particularly hated the cat.” James Blaine Hawkins gave a gasp74. Gary looked at him sharply and saw that he was once more staring at the empty air near the door. The cat had come in again and was gazing questioningly about her as if trying to decide where she would curl herself down for a nap. The eyes of James Blaine Hawkins pulled themselves away from the terrifying vision near the door, and turned toward Faith. He gave a sudden yell and rushed out of the cabin.
Faith ran and jumped upon the bunk, her tail the size of a bologna sausage. Gary got up and followed James Blaine Hawkins as far as the door.
“Look out you don’t hear the Voice, Mr. Hawkins,” he said commiseratingly. “If I let my imagination get a fair running start, I couldn’t stay in this cañon over night. I’d be a plain nut inside twenty-four hours.”
James Blaine Hawkins was busy cranking his car. If he heard Gary speak he paid no attention. He got a sputter75 from the engine, rushed to the wheel and coaxed76 it with spark and gas-lever, straddled in over the side and went careening away down the trail to the open desert beyond.
Faith came inquisitively77 to the door, and Gary picked her up in his hands and held her, purring, against his face while he stroked her mottled back.
“I think you’ve saved little Pat Connolly a darned lot of trouble,” he murmured into the cat’s ear. “Thrashing that bird wouldn’t have had half the effect.”
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1
ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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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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fulfill
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| vt.履行，实现，完成；满足，使满意 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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squatter
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| n.擅自占地者 | |
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isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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mishap
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| n.不幸的事，不幸；灾祸 | |
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explicit
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| adj.详述的，明确的；坦率的；显然的 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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trespasser
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| n.侵犯者；违反者 | |
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14
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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15
insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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17
affront
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| n./v.侮辱，触怒 | |
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18
blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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arrogantly
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| adv.傲慢地 | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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pompously
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| adv.傲慢地，盛大壮观地；大模大样 | |
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portray
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| v.描写，描述；画(人物、景象等) | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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flipped
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| 轻弹( flip的过去式和过去分词 )； 按（开关）； 快速翻转； 急挥 | |
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luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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elucidation
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| n.说明，阐明 | |
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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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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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33
hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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chili
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| n.辣椒 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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repletion
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| n.充满，吃饱 | |
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triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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constrainedly
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| 不自然地，勉强地，强制地 | |
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44
hopped
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| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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45
demurely
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| adv.装成端庄地，认真地 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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48
solicitously
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| adv.热心地，热切地 | |
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49
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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50
bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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52
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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53
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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54
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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55
extraneous
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| adj.体外的；外来的；外部的 | |
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56
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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57
sagged
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| 下垂的 | |
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stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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59
spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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60
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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61
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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62
creases
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| （使…）起折痕，弄皱( crease的第三人称单数 )； （皮肤）皱起，使起皱纹 | |
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63
dented
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| v.使产生凹痕( dent的过去式和过去分词 )；损害；伤害；挫伤（信心、名誉等） | |
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64
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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65
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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66
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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67
expressively
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| ad.表示(某事物)地；表达地 | |
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68
ails
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| v.生病( ail的第三人称单数 )；感到不舒服；处境困难；境况不佳 | |
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69
imperturbably
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| adv.泰然地，镇静地，平静地 | |
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70
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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71
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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72
defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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73
pettishly
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74
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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75
sputter
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| n.喷溅声；v.喷溅 | |
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76
coaxed
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的过去式和过去分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱 | |
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77
inquisitively
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| 过分好奇地； 好问地 | |
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