flip-a california romance-第10节

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of　the　gale　as　it　penetrated　their　retreat。　　〃The　pit；〃　whispered

Flip；　〃it's　safe　on　the　other　side；〃　she　added；　cautiously　skirting

the　orbit　of　the　great　eye；　and　leading　him　to　a　sheltered　nest　of

bark　and　sawdust。　　It　was　warm　and　odorous。　　Nevertheless；　they

both　deemed　it　necessary　to　enwrap　themselves　in　the　single

blanket。　　The　eye　beamed　fitfully　upon　them；　occasionally　a　wave　of

lambent　tremulousness　passed　across　it；　its　weirdness　was　an　excuse

for　their　drawing　nearer　each　other　in　playful　terror。



〃Flip。〃



〃Well？〃



〃What　did　the　other　two　want？　　To　see　you；　TOO？〃



〃Likely；〃　said　Flip；　without　the　least　trace　of　coquetry。　　〃There's

been　a　lot　of　strangers　yer；　off　and　on。〃



〃Perhaps　you'd　like　to　go　back　and　see　them？〃



〃Do　you　want　me　to？〃



Lance's　reply　was　a　kiss。　　Nevertheless　he　was　vaguely　uneasy。

〃Looks　a　little　as　if　I　were　running　away；　don't　it？〃　he　suggested。



〃No；〃　said　Flip；　〃they　think　you're　only　a　squaw；　it's　me　they're

after。〃　　Lance　smarted　a　little　at　this　infelicitous　speech。　　A

strange　and　irritating　sensation　had　been　creeping　over　himit　was

his　first　experience　of　shame　and　remorse。　　〃I　reckon　I'll　go　back

and　see；〃　he　said；　rising　abruptly。



Flip　was　silent。　　She　was　thinking。　　Believing　that　the　men　were

seeking　her　only；　she　knew　that　their　attention　would　be　directed

from　her　companion　when　it　was　found　out　he　was　no　longer　with　her；

and　she　dreaded　to　meet　them　in　his　irritable　presence。



〃Go；〃　she　said；　〃tell　Dad　something's　gone　wrong　in　the　diamond

pit；　and　say　I'm　watching　it　for　him　here。〃



〃And　you？〃



〃I'll　go　there　and　wait　for　him。　　If　he　can't　get　rid　of　them；　and

they　follow　him　there；　I'll　come　back　here　and　meet　you。　　Anyhow；

I'll　manage　to　have　Dad　wait　there　a　spell。〃



She　took　his　hand　and　led　him　back　by　a　different　path　to　the

trail。　　He　was　surprised　to　find　that　the　cabin；　its　window　glowing

from　the　fire；　was　only　a　hundred　yards　away。　　〃Go　in　the　back　way；

by　the　shed。　　Don't　go　in　the　room；　nor　near　the　light；　if　you　can。

Don't　talk　inside；　but　call　or　beckon　to　Dad。　　Remember；〃　she　said；

with　a　laugh；　〃you're　keeping　watch　of　me　for　him。　　Pull　your　hair

down　on　your　eyes　so。〃　　This　operation；　like　most　feminine

embellishments　of　the　masculine　toilet　was　attended　by　a　kiss；　and

Flip；　stepping　back　into　the　shadow；　vanished　in　the　storm。



Lance's　first　movements　were　inconsistent　with　his　assumed　sex。　　He

picked　up　his　draggled　skirt；　and　drew　a　bowie　knife　from　his　boot。

From　his　bosom　he　took　a　revolver；　turning　the　chambers　noiselessly

as　he　felt　the　caps。　　He　then　crept　toward　the　cabin　softly　and

gained　the　shed。　　It　was　quite　dark　but　for　a　pencil　of　light

piercing　a　crack　of　the　rude；　ill…fitting　door　that　opened　on　the

sitting…room。　　A　single　voice　not　unfamiliar　to　him；　raised　in

half…brutal　triumph；　greeted　his　ears。



A　name　was　mentionedhis　own！　　His　angry　hand　was　on　the　latch。

One　moment　more　and　he　would　have　burst　the　door；　but　in　that

instant　another　name　was　uttereda　name　that　dropped　his　hand　from

the　latch　and　the　blood　from　his　cheeks。　　He　staggered　backward；

passed　his　hand　swiftly　across　his　forehead；　recovered　himself　with

a　gesture　of　mingled　rage　and　despair；　and；　sinking　on　his　knees

beside　the　door；　pressed　his　hot　temples　against　the　crack。



〃Do　I　know　Lance　Harriott？〃　said　the　voice。　　〃Do　I　know　the　dd

ruffian？　　Didn't　I　hunt　him　a　year　ago　into　the　brush　three　miles

from　the　Crossing？　　Didn't　we　lose　sight　of　him　the　very　day　he

turned　up　yer　at　this　ranch；　and　got　smuggled　over　into　Monterey？

Ain't　it　the　same　man　as　killed　Arkansaw　BobBob　Ridleythe　name

he　went　by　in　Sonora？　　And　who　was　Bob　Ridley；　eh？　　Who？　　Why；　you

dd　old　fool；　it　was　Bob　FairleyYOUR　SON！〃



The　old　man's　voice　rose　querulous　and　indistinct。



〃What　are　ye　talkin'　about？〃　interrupted　the　first　speaker。　　〃I

tell　you　I　KNOW。　　Look　at　these　pictures。　　I　found　'em　on　his　body。

Look　at　'em。　　Pictures　of　you　and　your　girl。　　Pr'aps　you'll　deny

them。　　Pr'aps　you'll　tell　me　I　lie　when　I　tell　you　HE　told　me　he

was　your　son；　told　me　how　he　ran　away　from　you；　how　you　were　livin'

somewhere　in　the　mountains　makin'　gold；　or　suthin'　else；　outer

charcoal。　　He　told　me　who　he　was　as　a　secret。　　He　never　let　on　he

told　it　to　any　one　else。　　And　when　I　found　that　the　man　who　killed

him；　Lance　Harriott；　had　been　hidin'　here；　had　been　sendin'　spies

all　around　to　find　out　all　about　your　son；　had　been　foolin'　you　and

tryin'　to　ruin　your　gal　as　he　had　killed　your　boy；　I　knew　that　HE

knew　it；　too。〃



〃LIAR！〃



The　door　fell　in　with　a　crash。　　There　was　the　sudden　apparition　of

a　demoniac　face；　still　half　hidden　by　the　long　trailing　black　locks

of　hair　that　curled　like　Medusa's　around　it。　　A　cry　of　terror

filled　the　room。　　Three　of　the　men　dashed　from　the　door　and　fled

precipitately。　　The　man　who　had　spoken　sprang　toward　his　rifle　in

the　chimney　corner。　　But　the　movement　was　his　last；　a　blinding

flash　and　shattering　report　interposed　between　him　and　his　weapon。



The　impulse　carried　him　forward　headlong　into　the　fire；　that　hissed

and　spluttered　with　his　blood；　and　Lance　Harriott　with　his　smoking

pistol；　strode　past　him　to　the　door。　　Already　far　down　the　trail

there　were　hurried　voices；　the　crack　and　crackling　of　impending

branches　growing　fainter　and　fainter　in　the　distance。　　Lance　turned

back　to　the　solitary　living　figurethe　old　man。



Yet　he　might　have　been　dead；　too；　he　sat　so　rigid　and　motionless；

his　fixed　eyes　staring　vacantly　at　the　body　on　the　hearth。　　Before

him　on　the　table　lay　the　cheap　photographs；　one　evidently　of

himself；　taken　in　some　remote　epoch　of　complexion；　one　of　a　child

which　Lance　recognized　as　Flip。



〃Tell　me；〃　said　Lance　hoarsely；　laying　his　quivering　hand　on　the

table；　〃was　Bob　Ridley　your　son？〃



〃My　son；〃　echoed　the　old　man　in　a　strange；　far…off　voice；　without

turning　his　eyes　from　the　corpse〃My　sonisisis　there！〃

pointing　to　the　dead　man。　　〃Hush！　　Didn't　he　tell　you　so？　　Didn't

you　hear　him　say　it？　　Deaddeadshotshot！〃



〃Silence！　are　you　crazy；　man？〃　repeated　Lance；　tremblingly；　〃that

is　not　Bob　Ridley；　but　a　dog；　a　coward；　a　liar　gone　to　his

reckoning。　　Hear　me！　　If　your　son　WAS　Bob　Ridley；　I　swear　to　God　I

never　knew　it；　now　ororTHEN。　　Do　you　hear　me？　　Tell　me！　　Do　you

believe　me？　　Speak！　　You　shall　speak。〃



He　laid　his　hand　almost　menacingly　on　the　old　man's　shoulder。

Fairley　slowly　raised　his　head。　　Lance　fell　back　with　a　groan　of

horror。　　The　weak　lips　were　wreathed　with　a　feeble　imploring　smile；

but　the　eyes　wherein　the　fretful；　peevish；　suspicious　spirit　had

dwelt　were　blank　and　tenantless；　the　flickering　intellect　that　had

lit　them　was　blown　out　and　vanished。



Lance　walked　toward　the　door　and　remained　motionless　for　a　moment；

gazing　into　the　night。　　When　he　turned　back　again　toward　the　fire

his　face　was　as　colorless　as　the　dead　man's　on　the　hearth；　the　fire

of　passion　was　gone　from　his　beaten　eyes；　his　step　was　hesitating

and　slow。　　He　went　up　to　the　table。



〃I　say；　old　man；〃　he　said；　with　a　strange　smile　and　an　odd；

premature　suggestion　of　the　infinite　weariness　of　death　in　his

voice；　〃you　wouldn't　mind　giving　me　this；　would　you？〃　and　he　took

up　the　picture　of　Flip。　　The　old　man　nodded　repeatedly。　　〃Thank

you；〃　said　Lance。　　He　went　to　the　door；　paused　a　moment；　and

returned。　　〃Good…by；　old　man；〃　he　said；　holding　out　his　hand。

Fairley　took　it　with　a　childish　smile。　　〃He's　dead；〃　said　the　old

man　softly；　holding　Lance's　hand；　but　pointing　to　the　hearth。

〃Yes；〃　said　Lance；　with　the　faintest　of　smiles　on　the　palest　of

faces。　　〃You　feel　sorry　for　any　one　that's　dead；　don't　you？〃

Fairley　nodded　again。　　Lance　looked　at　him　with　eyes　as　remote　as

his　own；　shook　his　head；　and　turned　away。　　When　he　reached　the　door

he　laid　his　revolver　carefully；　and；　indeed；　somewhat　ostentatiously；

upon　a　chair。　　But　when　he　stepped　from　the　threshold　he　stopped　a

moment　in　the　light　of　the　open　door　to　examine　the　lock　of　a　small

derringer　which　he　drew　from　his　pocket。　　He　then　shut　the　door

carefully；　and　with　the　same　slow；　hesitating　step；　felt　his　way

into　the　night。



He　had　but　one　idea　in　his　mind；　to　find　some　lonely　spot；　some

spot　where　the　footsteps　of　man　would　never　penetrate；　some　spot

that　would　yield　him　rest；　sleep；　obliteration；　forgetfulness；　and；

above　all；　where　HE　would　be　forgotten。　　He　had　seen　such　places；

surely　there　were　many；where　bones　were　picked　up　of　dead　men　who

had　faded　from　the　earth　and　had　left　no　other　record。　　If　he　could

only　keep　his　senses　now　he　might　find　such　a　spot；　but　he　must　be

careful；　for　her　little　feet　went　everywhere；　and　she　must　never

see　him　again　alive　or　dead。　　And　in　the　midst　of　his　thoughts；　and

the　darkness；　and　the　storm；　he　heard　a　voice　at　his　side；　〃Lance；

how　long　you　have　been！〃



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