to the last man-第41节

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realized；　when　he　found　himself　face　to　face　with　one　of　the　most
notorious　characters　ever　known　in　Texasan　outlaw　long　supposed
to　be　dead。

〃Men；　I　reckon　I'd　kept　my　secret　if　I'd　any　idee　of　comin'　out　of　this
Isbel…Jorth　war　alive；〃　said　Blue。　　〃But　I'm　goin'　to　cash。　　I　feel　it
heah。　。　。　。　Isbel　was　my　friend。　　He　saved　me　from　bein'　lynched　in
Texas。　　An'　so　I'm　goin'　to　kill　Jorth。　　Now　I'll　take　it　kind　of　y'u
if　any　of　y'u　come　out　of　this　aliveto　tell　who　I　was　an'　why　I　was
on　the　Isbel　side。　　Because　this　sheep　an'　cattle　warthis　talk　of
Jorth　an'　the　Hash　Knife　Gangit　makes　me；　sick。　　I　KNOW　there's　been
crooked　work　on　Isbel's　side；　too。　　An'　I　never　want　it　on　record　thet
I　killed　Jorth　because　he　was　a　rustler。〃

〃By　God；　Blue！　it's　late　in　the　day　for　such　talk；〃　burst　out
Blaisdell；　in　rage　and　amaze。　　〃But　I　reckon　y'u　know　what　y'u're
talkin'　aboot。　。　。　。　Wal；　I　shore　don't　want　to　heah　it。〃

At　this　juncture　Bill　Isbel　quietly　entered　the　cabin；　too　late　to　hear
any　of　Blue's　statement。　　Jean　was　positive　of　that；　for　as　Blue　was
speaking　those　last　revealing　words　Bill's　heavy　boots　had　resounded
on　the　gravel　path　outside。　　Yet　something　in　Bill's　look　or　in　the　way
Blue　averted　his　lean　face　or　in　the　entrance　of　Bill　at　that　particular
moment；　or　all　these　together；　seemed　to　Jean　to　add　further　mystery　to
the　long　secret　causes　leading　up　to　the　Jorth…Isbel　war。　　Did　Bill　know
what　Blue　knew？　　Jean　had　an　inkling　that　he　did。　　And　on　the　moment；
so　perplexing　and　bitter；　Jean　gazed　out　the　door；　down　the　deserted
road　to　where　his　dead　father　lay；　white…haired　and　ghastly　in　the
sunlight。

〃Blue；　you　could　have　kept　that　to　yourself；　as　well　as　your　real　name；〃
interposed　Jean；　with　bitterness。　　〃It's　too　late　now　for　either　to　do
any　good。　。　。　。　But　I　appreciate　your　friendship　for　dad；　an'　I'm　ready
to　help　carry　out　your　plan。〃

That　decision　of　Jean's　appeared　to　put　an　end　to　protest　or　argument
from　Blaisdell　or　any　of　the　others。　　Blue's　fleeting　dark　smile　was
one　of　satisfaction。　　Then　upon　most　of　this　group　of　men　seemed　to
settle　a　grim　restraint。　　They　went　out　and　walked　and　watched；　they
came　in　again；　restless　and　somber。　　Jean　thought　that　he　must　have
bent　his　gaze　a　thousand　times　down　the　road　to　the　tragic　figure　of
his　father。　　That　sight　roused　all　emotions　in　his　breast；　and　the
one　that　stirred　there　most　was　pity。　　The　pity　of　it！　　Gaston　Isbel
lying　face　down　in　the　dust　of　the　village　street！　　Patches　of　blood
showed　on　the　back　of　his　vest　and　one　white…sleeved　shoulder。　　He　had
been　shot　through。　　Every　time　Jean　saw　this　blood　he　had　to　stifle　a
gathering　of　wild；　savage　impulses。

Meanwhile　the　afternoon　hours　dragged　by　and　the　village　remained　as
if　its　inhabitants　had　abandoned　it。　　Not　even　a　dog　showed　on　the
side　road。　　Jorth　and　some　of　his　men　came　out　in　front　of　the　store
and　sat　on　the　steps；　in　close　convening　groups。　　Every　move　they；
made　seemed　significant　of　their　confidence　and　importance。　　About
sunset　they　went　back　into　the　store；　closing　　door　and　window
shutters。　　Then　Blaisdell　called　the　Isbel　faction　to　have　food　and
drink。　　Jean　felt　no　hunger。　　And　Blue；　who　had　kept　apart　from　the
others；　showed　no　desire　to　eat。　　Neither　did　he　smoke；　though　early
in　the　day　he　had　never　been　without　a　cigarette　between　his　lips。

Twilight　fell　and　darkness　came。　　Not　a　light　showed　anywhere　in
the　blackness。

〃Wal；　I　reckon　it's　aboot　time；〃　said　Blue；　and　he　led　the　way　out　of
the　cabin　to　the　back　of　the　lot。　　Jean　strode　behind　him；　carrying
his　rifle　and　an　ax。　　Silently　the　other　men　followed。　　Blue　turned
to　the　left　and　led　through　the　field　until　he　came　within　sight　of
a　dark　line　of　trees。

〃Thet's　where　the　road　turns　off；〃　he　said　to　Jean。　　〃An'　heah's　the
back　of　Coleman's　place。　。　。　。　Wal；　Jean；　good　luck！〃

Jean　felt　the　grip　of　a　steel…like　hand；　and　in　the　darkness　he　caught
the　gleam　of　Blue's　eyes。　　Jean　had　no　response　in　words　for　the　laconic
Blue；　but　he　wrung　the　hard；　thin　hand　and　hurried　away　in　the　darkness。

Once　alone；　his　part　of　the　business　at　hand　rushed　him　into　eager
thrilling　action。　　This　was　the　sort　of　work　he　was　fitted　to　do。
In　this　instance　it　was　important；　but　it　seemed　to　him　that　Blue
had　coolly　taken　the　perilous　part。　　And　this　cowboy　with　gray　in　his
thin　hair　was　in　reality　the　great　King　Fisher！　　Jean　marveled　at　the
fact。　　And　he　shivered　all　over　for　Jorth。　　In　ten　minutesfifteen；
more　or　less；　Jorth　would　lie　gasping　bloody　froth　and　sinking　down。
Something　in　the　dark；　lonely；　silent；　oppressive　summer　night　told
Jean　this。　　He　strode　on　swiftly。　　Crossing　the　road　at　a　run；　he　kept
on　over　the　ground　he　had　traversed　during　the　afternoon；　and　in　a　few　
moments　he　stood　breathing　hard　at　the　edge　of　the　common　behind
Greaves's　store。

A　pin　point　of　light　penetrated　the　blackness。　　It　made　Jean's　heart
leap。　　The　Jorth　contingent　were　burning　the　big　lamp　that　hung　in　the
center　of　Greaves's　store。　　Jean　listened。　　Loud　voices　and　coarse　
laughter　sounded　discord　on　the　melancholy　silence　of　the　night。　　What
Blue　had　called　his　instinct　had　surely　guided　him　aright。　　Death　of
Gaston　Isbel　was　being　celebrated　by　revel。

In　a　few　moments　Jean　had　regained　his　breath。　　Then　all　his　faculties
set　intensely　to　the　action　at　hand。　　He　seemed　to　magnify　his　hearing
and　his　sight。　　His　movements　made　no　sound。　　He　gained　the　wagon；
where　he　crouched　a　moment。

The　ground　seemed　a　pale；　obscure　medium；　hardly　more　real　than　the
gloom　above　it。　　Through　this　gloom　of　night；　which　looked　thick　like
a　cloud；　but　was　really　clear；　shone　the　thin；　bright　point　of　light；
accentuating　the　black　square　that　was　Greaves's　store。　　Above　this
stood　a　gray　line　of　tree　foliage；　and　then　the　intensely　dark…blue
sky　studded　with　white；　cold　stars。

A　hound　bayed　lonesomely　somewhere　in　the　distance。　　Voices　of　men
sounded　more　distinctly；　some　deep　and　low；　others　loud；　unguarded；
with　the　vacant　note　of　thoughtlessness。

Jean　gathered　all　his　forces；　until　sense　of　sight　and　hearing　were　in
exquisite　accord　with　the　suppleness　and　lightness　of　his　movements。
He　glided　on　about　ten　short；　swift　steps　before　he　halted。　　That　was
as　far　as　his　piercing　eyes　could　penetrate。　　If　there　had　been　a　guard
stationed　outside　the　store　Jean　would　have　seen　him　before　being　seen。
He　saw　the　fence；　reached　it；　entered　the　yard；　glided　in　the　dense
shadow　of　the　barn　until　the　black　square　began　to　loom　graythe　color
of　stone　at　night。　　Jean　peered　through　the　obscurity。　　No　dark　figure
of　a　man　showed　against　that　gray　wallonly　a　black　patch；　which　must
be　the　hole　in　the　foundation　mentioned。　　A　ray　of　light　now　streaked
out　from　the　little　black　window。　　To　the　right　showed　the　wide；
black　door。

Farther　on　Jean　glided　silently。　　Then　he　halted。　　There　was　no　guard
outside。　　Jean　heard　the　clink　of　a　cap；　the　lazy　drawl　of　a　Texan；
and　then　a　strong；　harsh　voiceJorth's。　　It　strung　Jean's　whole　being
tight　and　vibrating。　　Inside　he　was　on　fire　while　cold　thrills　rippled
over　his　skin。　　It　took　tremendous　effort　of　will　to　hold　himself　back
another　instant　to　listen；　to　look；　to　feel；　to　make　sure。　　And　that
instant　charged　him　with　a　mighty　current　of　hot　blood；　straining；　
throbbing；　damming。

When　Jean　leaped　this　current　burst。　　In　a　few　swift　bounds　he　gained
his　point　halfway　between　door　and　window。　　He　leaned　his　rifle　against
the　stone　wall。　　Then　he　swung　the　ax。　　Crash！　　The　window　shutter　split
and　rattled　to　the　floor　inside。　　The　silence　then　broke　with　a　hoarse；　
〃What's　thet？〃

With　all　his　might　Jean　swung　the　heavy　ax　on　the　door。　　Smash！　　The
lower　half　caved　in　and　banged　to　the　floor。　　Bright　light　flared　out
the　hole。

〃Look　out！〃　yelled　a　man；　in　loud　alarm。　　〃They're　batterin'　the
back　door！〃

Jean　swung　again；　high　on　the　splintered　door。　　Crash！　　Pieces　flew　inside。

〃They've　got　axes；〃　hoarsely　shouted　another　voice。　　〃Shove　the　counter
ag'in'　the　door。〃

〃No！〃　thundered　a　voice　of　authority　that　denoted　terror　as　well。
〃Let　them　come　in。　　Pull　your　guns　an'　take　to　cover！〃

〃They　ain't　comin'　in；〃　was　the　hoarse　reply。　　〃They'll　shoot　in
on　us　from　the　dark。〃

〃Put　out　the　lamp！〃　yelled　another。

Jean's　third　heavy　swing　caved　in　part　of　the　upper　half　of　the　door。
Shouts　and　curses　intermingled　with　the　sliding　of　benches　across　the
floor　and　the　hard　shuffle　of　boots。　　This　confusion　seemed　to　be　split
and　silenced　by　a　piercing　yell；　of　different　caliber；　of　terrible
meaning。　　It　stayed　Jean's　swingcaused　him　to　drop　the　ax　and　snatch
up　his　rifle。

〃DON'T　ANYBODY　MOVE！〃

Like　a　steel　whip　this　voice　cut　the　silence。　　It　belonged　to　Blue。
Jean　swiftly　bent　to　put　his　eye　to　a　crack　in　the　door。　　Most　of　those
visible　seemed　to　have　been　frozen　into　unnatural　positions。　　Jorth　stood
rather　in　front　of　his　men；　hatless　and　coatless；　one　arm　outstretched；　
and　his　dark　profile　set　toward　a　little　man　just　inside　the　door。　　This
man　was　Blue。　　Jean　needed　only　one　flashing　look　at　Blue's　face；　at　his
leveled；　quivering　guns；　to　understand　why　he　ha