hr.thecarpetbaggers-第11节

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figure　it's　time　I　went。　All　my　life　I　wanted　to　give　you　something　for　your　birthday　but　your　pappy　always　beat　me　to　it。　Your　pappy　gave　you　everything。　So　until　now　there　was　nothing　you　ever　wanted　that　I　could　give　you。　In　this　envelope　you　will　find　something　you　really　want。　You　don't　have　to　worry　about　it。　I　went　to　a　lawyer　in　Reno　and　signed　it　all　over　good　and　proper。
　Happy　birthday。
　Your　friend；　
　Nevada　Smith
　
　I　looked　at　the　other　papers　in　the　envelope。　They　were　Cord　Explosives　pany　stock　certificates　endorsed　over　to　my　name。
　I　put　them　down　on　the　table　and　a　lump　began　to　e　up　in　my　throat。　Suddenly；　the　house　was　empty。　Everybody　was　gone。　My　father；　Rina；　Nevada。　Everybody。　The　house　began　to　echo　with　memories。
　I　remembered　what　Rina　had　said；　about　getting　out　from　under　the　shadow　of　my　father。　She　was　right。　I　couldn't　live　in　this　house。　It　wasn't　mine。　It　was　his。　For　me；　it　would　always　be　his　house。
　My　mind　was　made　up。　I'd　find　an　apartment　in　Reno。　There　wouldn't　be　any　memories　in　an　apartment。　I'd　turn　the　house　over　to　McAllister。　He　had　a　family　and　it　would　save　him　the　trouble　of　looking　for　one。
　I　looked　down　at　Nevada's　note　again。　The　last　line　hit　me。　Happy　birthday。　A　pain　began　to　tie　up　my　gut。　I　had　forgotten　and　Nevada　had　been　the　only　one　left　to　remember。
　Today　was　my　birthday。
　I　was　twenty…one。
　
　
　The　Story　of
NEVADA　SMITH
　…
　Book　Two
　
　1
　
　IT　WAS　AFTER　NINE　O'CLOCK　WHEN　NEVADA　PULLED　the　car　off　the　highway　onto　the　dirt　road　that　led　to　the　ranch。　He　stopped　the　car　in　front　of　the　main　house　and　got　out。　He　stood　there　listening　to　the　sounds　of　laughter　ing　from　the　casino。
　A　man　came　out　on　the　porch　and　looked　down　at　him。　〃Hello；　Nevada。〃
　Nevada　answered　without　turning　around。　〃Hello；　Charlie。　It　sounds　like　the　divorcées　are　having　themselves　a　high　ol'　time。〃
　Charlie　smiled。　〃Why　shouldn't　they？　Divorcin'　is　a　pretty　good　piece　of　business　for　most　of　'em。〃
　Nevada　turned　and　looked　up　at　him。　〃I　guess　it　is。　Only；　I　can't　get　used　to　the　idea　of　ranchin'　women　instead　of　cattle。〃
　〃Now；　mebbe；　you'll　get　used　to　it；〃　Charlie　said。　〃After　all；　you　own　fifty　per　cent　of　this　spread。　Time　you　settled　down　and　got　to　work　on　it。〃
　〃I　don't　know；〃　Nevada　said。　〃I　kinda　got　me　the　travelin'　itch。　I　figger　I　been　in　one　place　long　enough。〃
　〃Where　you　goin'　to　travel？〃　Charlie　asked。　〃There　ain't　no　place　left。　The　country's　all　used　up　with　roads　going　to　every　place。　You're　thirty　years　late。〃
　Nevada　nodded　silently。　Charlie　was　right　but　the　strange　thing　was　he　didn't　feel　thirty　years　late。　He　felt　the　same　as　he　always　did。　Right　for　now。
　〃I　put　the　woman　in　your　cabin；〃　Charlie　said。　〃Martha　and　I　been　waitin'　supper　for　you。〃
　Nevada　got　back　into　the　car。　〃Then　I　better　go　an'　get　her。　We'll　be　back　as　soon　as　I　git　washed　up。〃
　Charlie　nodded　and　went　back　inside　as　the　car　started　off。　At　the　door；　he　turned　and　looked　after　it　as　it　wound　its　way　up　the　small　hill　toward　the　back　of　the　ranch。　He　shook　his　head　and　went　inside。
　Martha　was　waiting　for　him。　〃How　is　he？〃　she　asked　anxiously。
　〃I　don't　know；〃　he　answered；　shaking　his　head　again。　〃He　seems　kinda　mixed　up　an'　lost　to　me。　I　just　don't　know。〃
　
　The　cabin　was　dark　when　Nevada　went　in。　He　reached　for　the　oil　lamp　beside　the　door　and　put　it　on　a　table。　He　struck　a　match　and　held　it　to　the　wick。　The　wick　sputtered　a　moment　then　burst　into　flame。　He　put　the　chimney　back　on　and　replaced　the　lamp　on　the　shelf。
　Rina's　voice　came　from　behind　him。　〃Why　didn't　you　turn　on　the　electricity；　Nevada？〃
　〃I　like　lamp　light；〃　he　said　simply。　〃Electric　light　ain't　natural。　It's　wearin'　on　the　eyes。〃
　She　was　sitting　in　a　chair　facing　the　door；　her　face　pale　and　luminous。　She　was　wearing　a　heavy　sweater　that　came　down　over　the　faded　blue　jeans　covering　her　legs。
　〃You　cold？〃　he　asked。　〃I'll　start　a　fire。〃
　She　shook　her　head。　〃I'm　not　cold。〃
　He　stood　there　silent　for　a　moment；　then　spoke。　〃I'll　bring　in　my　things　an'　wash　up。　Charlie　and　Martha　waited　supper　for　us。〃
　〃I'll　help　you　bring　them　in。〃
　〃O。K。〃
　They　came　out　into　the　night。　The　stars　were　deep　in　the　black　velvet　and　the　sound　of　music　and　laughter　came　faintly　to　them　from　down　the　hill。
　She　looked　down　toward　the　casino。　〃I'm　glad　I'm　not　one　of　them。〃
　He　handed　her　a　suitcase。　〃You　never　could　be。　You　ain't　the　type。〃
　〃I　thought　of　divorcing　him；〃　she　said。　〃But　something　inside　me　kept　me　from　it　even　though　I　knew　it　was　wrong　from　the　beginning。〃
　〃A　deal's　a　deal；〃　he　said　shortly　as　he　turned　back　into　the　cabin；　his　arms　full。　
　〃I　guess　that's　it。〃
　They　made　two　more　trips　silently　and　then　she　sat　down　on　the　edge　of　the　bed　as　he　stripped　off　his　shirt　and　turned　to　the　washbasin　in　the　corner　of　the　small　bedroom。
　The　muscles　rippled　under　his　startlingly　white　skin。　The　hair　covering　his　chest　was　like　a　soft　black　down　as　it　fell　toward　his　flat；　hard　stomach。　He　covered　his　face　and　neck　with　soap　and　then　splashed　water　over　it。　He　reached　for　a　towel　blindly。
　She　gave　it　to　him　and　he　rubbed　vigorously。　He　put　down　the　towel　and　reached　for　a　clean　shirt。　He　slipped　into　it　and　began　to　button　it。
　〃Wait　a　minute；〃　she　said　suddenly。　〃Let　me　do　that　for　you。〃
　Her　fingers　were　quick　and　light。　He　felt　their　touch　against　his　skin　like　a　whisper　of　air。　She　looked　up　into　his　face；　her　eyes　wondering。　〃How　old　are　you；　Nevada？　Your　skin　is　like　a　young　boy's。〃
　He　smiled　suddenly。
　〃How　old？〃　she　persisted。
　〃I　was　born　in　eighty…two；　according　to　my　reckoning；〃　he　said。　〃My　mother　was　a　Kiowa　and　they　didn't　keep　such　good　track　of　birthdays。　That　makes　me　forty…three。〃　He　finished　tucking　the　shirt　into　his　trousers。
　〃You　don't　look　more　than　thirty。〃
　He　laughed；　pleased　despite　himself。　〃Let's　go　and　git　some　grub。〃
　She　took　his　arm。　〃Let's；〃　she　said。　〃Suddenly；　I'm　starving。〃
　It　was　after　midnight　when　they　got　back　to　the　cabin。　He　opened　the　door　and　let　her　enter　before　him。　He　crossed　to　the　fireplace　and　set　a　match　to　the　kindling。　She　came　up　behind　him　and　he　looked　up。　
　〃You　go　on　to　bed；〃　he　said。
　Silently　she　walked　into　the　bedroom　and　he　fanned　the　kindling。　The　wood　caught　and　leaped　into　flame。　He　put　a　few　logs　over　it　and　got　up　and　crossed　the　room　to　a　cupboard。　He　took　down　a　bottle　of　bourbon　and　a　glass　and　sat　down　in　front　of　the　fire。
　He　poured　a　drink　and　looked　at　the　whisky　in　the　glass。　The　fire　behind　it　gave　it　a　glowing　heat。　He　drank　the　whisky　slowly。
　When　he　had　finished；　he　put　the　empty　glass　down　and　began　to　strip　off　his　boots。　He　left　them　beside　the　chair　and　walked　over　to　the　couch　and　stretched　out。　He　had　just　lighted　a　cigarette　when　her　voice　came　from　the　bedroom　door。　
　〃Nevada？〃
　He　sat　up　and　turned　toward　her。　〃Yeah？〃　
　〃Did　Jonas　say　anything　about　me？〃　
　〃No。〃
　〃He　gave　me　a　hundred　thousand　dollars　for　the　stock　and　the　house。〃
　〃I　know；〃　he　replied。
　She　hesitated　a　moment；　then　came　farther　into　the　room。　〃I　don't　need　all　that　money。　If　you　need　any…　〃　
　He　laughed　soundlessly。　〃I'm　O。K。　Thanks；　anyway。〃　
　〃Sure？〃
　He　chuckled　again；　wondering　what　she　would　say　if　she　knew　about　the　six…thousand…acre　ranch　he　had　in　Texas；　about　the　half　interest　in　the　Wild…West　show。　He；　too；　had　learned　a　great　deal　from　the　old　man。　Money　was　only　good　when　it　was　working　for　you。
　〃Sure；〃　he　said。　He　got　to　his　feet　and　walked　toward　her。　〃Now　go　to　bed；　Rina。　You're　out　on　your　feet。〃
　He　followed　her　into　the　bedroom　and　took　a　blanket　from　the　closet　as　she　got　into　bed。　She　caught　his　hands　as　he　walked　by　the　bed。　〃Talk　to　me　while　I　fall　asleep。〃
　He　sat　down　on　the　side　of　the　bed。　〃What　about？〃　he　asked。
　She　still　held　onto　his　hand。　〃About　yourself。　Where　you　were　born；　where　you　came　from　…　anything。〃　
　He　smiled　into　the　dark。　〃Ain't　very　much　to　tell；〃　he　said。　〃As　far　as　I　know；　I　was　born　in　West　Texas。　My　father　was　a　buffalo…hunter　named　John　Smith　and　my　mother　was　a　Kiowa　princess　named…　〃
　〃Don't　tell　me；〃　she　interrupted　sleepily。　〃I　know　her　name。　Pocahontas。〃
　He　laughed　softly。　〃Somebody　told　you；〃　he　said　in　mock　reproach。　〃Pocahontas。　That　was　her　name。〃
　〃Nobody　told　me；〃　she　whispered　faintly。　〃I　read　it　someplace。〃
　Her　hand　slipped　slowly　from　his　and　he　looked　down。　Her　eyes　were　closed　and　she　was　fast　asleep。
　Quietly　he　got　up　and　straightened　the　blanket　around　her；　then　turned　and　walked　into　the　other　room。　He　spread　a　blanket　on　the　couch　and　undressed　quickly。　He　stretched　out　and　wrapped　the　blanket　around　him。
　John　Smith　and　Pocahontas。　He　wondered　how　many　times　he　had　mockingly　told　that　story。　But　the　truth　was　stranger　still。　And　probably；　no　one　would　believe　it。
　It　was　so　long　ago　that　there　were　times　he　didn't　believe　it　himself　any　more。　His　name　wasn't　Nevada　Smith　then；　it　was　Max　Sand。
　And　he　was　wanted　for　armed　robbery　and　murder　in　three　different　states。
　
　2
　
　IT　WAS　IN　MAY　OF　1882　THAT　Samuel　Sand　came　into　the　small　cabin　that　he　called　home　and　sat　down　heavily　on　a　box　that　served　him　for　a　chair。　Silently　his　squaw