to the last man-第34节

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pouring　off　the　slope　to　flood　the　corrals。

Jean　miscalculated　and　found　he　had　come　upon　the　embankment　somewhat
to　the　left　of　the　end；　which　fact；　however；　caused　him　no　uneasiness。
He　lay　there　awhile　to　listen。　　Again　he　heard　voices。　　After　a　time
a　shot　pealed　out。　　He　did　not　see　the　flash；　but　he　calculated　that
it　had　come　from　the　north　side　of　the　cabins。

The　next　quarter　of　an　hour　discovered　to　Jean　that　the　nearest　guard
was　firing　from　the　top　of　the　embankment；　perhaps　a　hundred　yards
distant；　and　a　second　one　was　performing　the　same　office　from　a　point
apparently　only　a　few　yards　farther　on。　　Two　rustlers　close　together！
Jean　had　not　calculated　upon　that。　　For　a　little　while　he　pondered　on
what　was　best　to　do；　and　at　length　decided　to　crawl　round　behind　them；
and　as　close　as　the　situation　made　advisable。

He　found　the　ditch　behind　the　embankment　a　favorable　path　by　which　to
stalk　these　enemies。　　It　was　dry　and　sandy；　with　borders　of　high　weeds。
The　only　drawback　was　that　it　was　almost　impossible　for　him　to　keep
from　brushing　against　the　dry；　invisible　branches　of　the　weeds。　　To
offset　this　he　wormed　his　way　like　a　snail；　inch　by　inch；　taking　a
long　time　before　he　caught　sight　of　the　sitting　figure　of　a　man；　black
against　the　dark…blue　sky。　　This　rustler　had　fired　his　rifle　three
times　during　Jean's　slow　approach。　　Jean　watched　and　listened　a　few
moments；　then　wormed　himself　closer　and　closer；　until　the　man　was
within　twenty　steps　of　him。

Jean　smelled　tobacco　smoke；　but　could　see　no　light　of　pipe　or　cigarette；
because　the　fellow's　back　was　turned。

〃Say；　Ben；〃　said　this　man　to　his　companion　sitting　hunched　up　a　few
yards　distant；　〃shore　it　strikes　me　queer　thet　Somers　ain't　shootin'
any　over　thar。〃

Jean　recognized　the　dry；　drawling　voice　of　Greaves；　and　the　shock　of
it　seemed　to　contract　the　muscles　of　his　whole　thrilling　body；　like
that　of　a　panther　about　to　spring。



CHAPTER　VIII

Was　shore　thinkin'　thet　same；〃　said　the　other　man。　　〃An'；　say；　didn't
thet　last　shot　sound　too　sharp　fer　Somers's　forty…five？〃

〃Come　to　think　of　it；　I　reckon　it　did；〃　replied　Greaves。

〃Wal；　I'll　go　around　over　thar　an'　see。〃

The　dark　form　of　the　rustler　slipped　out　of　sight　over　the　embankment。

〃Better　go　slow　an'　careful；〃　warned　Greaves。　　〃An'　only　go　close
enough　to　call　Somers。　。　。　。　Mebbe　thet　damn　half…breed　Isbel　is
comin'　some　Injun　on　us。〃

Jean　heard　the　soft　swish　of　footsteps　through　wet　grass。　　Then　all
was　still。　　He　lay　flat；　with　his　cheek　on　the　sand；　and　he　had　to
look　ahead　and　upward　to　make　out　the　dark　figure　of　Greaves　on　the
bank。　　One　way　or　another　he　meant　to　kill　Greaves；　and　he　had　the
will　power　to　resist　the　strongest　gust　of　passion　that　had　ever
stormed　his　breast。　　If　he　arose　and　shot　the　rustler；　that　act　would
defeat　his　plan　of　slipping　on　around　upon　the　other　outposts　who　were
firing　at　the　cabins。　　Jean　wanted　to　call　softly　to　Greaves；　〃You're
right　about　the　half…breed！〃　and　then；　as　he　wheeled　aghast；　to　kill　him
as　he　moved。　　But　it　suited　Jean　to　risk　leaping　upon　the　man。　　Jean　did
not　waste　time　in　trying　to　understand　the　strange；　deadly　instinct　that
gripped　him　at　the　moment。　　But　he　realized　then　he　had　chosen　the　most
perilous　plan　to　get　rid　of　Greaves。

Jean　drew　a　long；　deep　breath　and　held　it。　　He　let　go　of　his　rifle。
He　rose；　silently　as　a　lifting　shadow。　　He　drew　the　bowie　knife。
Then　with　light；　swift　bounds　he　glided　up　the　bank。　　Greaves　must
have　heard　a　rustlinga　soft；　quick　pad　of　moccasin；　for　he　turned
with　a　start。　　And　that　instant　Jean's　left　arm　darted　like　a　striking
snake　round　Greaves's　neck　and　closed　tight　and　hard。　　With　his　right
hand　free；　holding　the　knife；　Jean　might　have　ended　the　deadly　business
in　just　one　move。　　But　when　his　bared　arm　felt　the　hot；　bulging　neck
something　terrible　burst　out　of　the　depths　of　him。　　To　kill　this　enemy　
of　his　father's　was　not　enough！　　Physical　contact　had　unleashed　the
savage　soul　of　the　Indian。　　Yet　there　was　more；　and　as　Jean　gave　the
straining　body　a　tremendous　jerk　backward；　he　felt　the　same　strange
thrill；　the　dark　joy　that　he　had　known　when　his　fist　had　smashed　the
face　of　Simm　Bruce。　　Greaves　had　leeredhe　had　corroborated　Bruce's
vile　insinuation　about　Ellen　Jorth。　　So　it　was　more　than　hate　that
actuated　Jean　Isbel。

Greaves　was　heavy　and　powerful。　　He　whirled　himself；　feet　first；
over　backward；　in　a　lunge　like　that　of　a　lassoed　steer。　　But　Jean's
hold　held。　　They　rolled　down　the　bank　into　the　sandy　ditch；　and　Jean
landed　uppermost；　with　his　body　at　right　angles　with　that　of　his　adversary。

〃Greaves；　your　hunch　was　right；〃　hissed　Jean。　　〃It's　the　half…breed。
。　。　。　An'　I'm　goin'　to　cut　youfirst　for　Ellen　Jorthan'　then　for
Gaston　Isbel！　〃

Jean　gazed　down　into　the　gleaming　eyes。　　Then　his　right　arm　whipped
the　big　blade。　　It　flashed。　　It　fell。　　Low　down；　as　far　as　Jean　could
reach；　it　entered　Greaves's　body。

All　the　heavy；　muscular　frame　of　Greaves　seemed　to　contract　and　burst。
His　spring　was　that　of　an　animal　in　terror　and　agony。　　It　was　so
tremendous　that　it　broke　Jean's　hold。　　Greaves　let　out　a　strangled
yell　that　cleared；　swelling　wildly；　with　a　hideous　mortal　note。　　He
wrestled　free。　　The　big　knife　came　out。　　Supple　and　swift；　he　got　to
his；　knees。　　He　had　his　gun　out　when　Jean　reached　him　again。　　Like　a
bear　Jean　enveloped　him。　　Greaves　shot；　but　he　could　not　raise　the　gun；
nor　twist　it　far　enough。　　Then　Jean；　letting　go　with　his　right　arm；
swung　the　bowie。　　Greaves's　strength　went　out　in　an　awful；　hoarse　cry。
His　gun　boomed　again；　then　dropped　from　his　hand。　　He　swayed。　　Jean
let　go。　　And　that　enemy　of　the　Isbels　sank　limply　in　the　ditch。
Jean's　eyes　roved　for　his　rifle　and　caught　the　starlit　gleam　of　it。
Snatching　it　up；　he　leaped　over　the　embankment　and　ran　straight　for
the　cabins。　　From　all　around　yells　of　the　Jorth　faction　attested　to
their　excitement　and　fury。

A　fence　loomed　up　gray　in　the　obscurity。　　Jean　vaulted　it；　darted
across　the　lane　into　the　shadow　of　the　corral；　and　soon　gained　the
first　cabin。　　Here　he　leaned　to　regain　his　breath。　　His　heart　pounded
high　and　seemed　too　large　for　his　breast。　　The　hot　blood　beat　and
surged　all　over　his　body。　　Sweat　poured　off　him。　　His　teeth　were
clenched　tight　as　a　vise；　and　it　took　effort　on　his　part　to　open
his　mouth　so　he　could　breathe　more　freely　and　deeply。　　But　these
physical　sensations　were　as　nothing　compared　to　the　tumult　of　his　mind。
Then　the　instinct；　the　spell；　let　go　its　grip　and　he　could　think。
He　had　avenged　Guy；　he　bad　depleted　the　ranks　of　the　Jorths；　he　had
made　good　the　brag　of　his　father；　all　of　which　afforded　him　satisfaction。
But　these　thoughts　were　not　accountable　for　all　that　be　felt；　especially
for　the　bittersweet　sting　of　the　fact　that　death　to　the　defiler　of　Ellen
Jorth　could　not　efface　the　doubt；　the　regret　which　seemed　to　grow　with
the　hours。

Groping　his　way　into　the　woodshed；　he　entered　the　kitchen　and；
calling　low；　he　went　on　into　the　main　cabin。

〃Jean！　　Jean！〃　came　his　father's　shaking　voice。

〃Yes；　I'm　back；〃　replied　Jean。

〃Areyouall　right？〃

〃Yes。　　I　think　I've　got　a　bullet　crease　on　my　leg。　　I　didn't　know　I
had　it　till　now。　。　。　。　It's　bleedin'　a　little。　　But　it's　nothin'。〃

Jean　heard　soft　steps　and　some　one　reached　shaking　hands　for　him。
They　belonged　to　his　sister　Ann。　　She　embraced　him。　　Jean　felt　the
heave　and　throb　of　her　breast。

〃Why；　Ann；　I'm　not　hurt；〃　he　said；　and　held　her　close。　　〃Now　you
lie　down　an'　try　to　sleep。〃

In　the　black　darkness　of　the　cabin　Jean　led　her　back　to　the　corner
and　his　heart　was　full。　　Speech　was　difficult；　because　the　very　touch
of　Ann's　hands　had　made　him　divine　that　the　success　of　his　venture　in
no　wise　changed　the　plight　of　the　women。

〃Wal；　what　happened　out　there？〃　demanded　Blaisdell。

〃I　got　two　of　them；〃　replied　Jean。　　〃That　fellow　who　was　shootin'
from　the　ridge　west。　　An'　the　other　was　Greaves。〃

〃Hah！〃　exclaimed　his　father。

〃Shore　then　it　was　Greaves　yellin'；〃　declared　Blaisdell。　　〃By　God；
I　never　heard　such　yells！　　Whad　'd　you　do；　Jean？〃

〃I　knifed　him。　　You　see；　I'd　planned　to　slip　up　on　one　after　another。
An'　I　didn't　want　to　make　noise。　　But　I　didn't　get　any　farther　than
Greaves。〃

〃Wal；　I　reckon　that　'll　end　their　shootin'　in　the　dark；〃　muttered
Gaston　Isbel。　　〃We've　got　to　be　on　the　lookout　for　somethin'　else
fire；　most　likely。〃

The　old　rancher's　surmise　proved　to　be　partially　correct。　　Jorth's
faction　ceased　the　shooting。　　Nothing　further　was　seen　or　heard　from
them。　　But　this　silence　and　apparent　break　in　the　siege　were　harder
to　bear　than　deliberate　hostility。　　The　long；　dark　hours　dragged　by。
The　men　took　turns　watching　and　resting；　but　none　of　them　slept。
At　last　the　blackness　paled　and　gray　dawn　stole　out　of　the　east。
The　sky　turned　rose　over　the　distant　range　and　daylight　came。

The　children　awoke　hungry　and　noisy；　having　slept　away　their　fears。
The　women　took　advantage　of　the　quiet　morning　hour　to　get　a　hot　breakfast。

〃Maybe　they've　gone　away；〃　suggested　Guy　Isbel's　wife；　peering　out　of
the　window。　　She　had　done　that　several　times　since　daybreak。　　Jean　saw
her　somber　gaze　search　th