that you are still able to do so,--which seemed extremely improbable a
moment or two ago." He paused, coughed, and leaned back against the
chimney. "How many men have you here besides yourself?"
"Nary one," said Collinson.
The interrogator glanced at the other men, who had reentered. They
nodded significantly.
"Good!" he resumed. "You have told the truth--an excellent habit, and
one that expedites business. Now, is there a room in this house with a
door that locks? Your front door DOESN'T."
"No."
"No cellar nor outhouse?"
"No."
"We regret that; for it will compel us, much against our wishes, to
keep you bound as you are for the present. The matter is simply this:
circumstances of a very pressing nature oblige us to occupy this house
for a few days,--possibly for an indefinite period. We respect the
sacred rites of hospitality too much to turn you out of it; indeed,
nothing could be more distasteful to our feelings than to have you, in
your own person, spread such a disgraceful report through the
chivalrous Sierras. We must therefore keep you a close
prisoner,--open, however, to an offer. It is this: we propose to give
you five hundred dollars for this property as it stands, provided that
you leave it, and accompany a pack-train which will start to-morrow
morning for the lower valley as far as Thompson's Pass, binding
yourself to quit the State for three months and keep this matter a
secret. Three of these gentlemen will go with you. They will point out
to you your duty; their shotguns will apprise you of any dereliction
from it. What do you say?"
"Who yer talking to?" said Collinson in a dull voice.
"You remind us," said the orator suavely, "that we have not yet the
pleasure of knowing."
"My name's Seth Collinson."
There was a dead silence in the room, and every eye was fixed upon the
two men. The orator's smile slightly stiffened.
"Where from?" he continued blandly.
"Mizzouri."
"A very good place to go back to,--through Thompson's Pass. But you
haven't answered our proposal."
"I reckon I don't intend to sell this house, or leave it," said
Collinson simply.
"I trust you will not make us regret the fortunate termination of your
little accident, Mr. Collinson," said the orator with a singular smile.
"May I ask why you object to selling out? Is it the figure?"
"The house isn't mine," said Collinson deliberately. "I built this yer
house for my wife wot I left in Mizzouri. It's hers. I kalkilate to
keep it, and live in it ontil she comes fur it! And when I tell ye
that she is dead, ye kin reckon just what chance ye have of ever
gettin' it."
There was an unmistakable start of sensation in the room, followed by a
silence so profound that the moaning of the wind on the mountain-side
was distinctly heard. A well-built man, with a mask that scarcely
concealed his heavy mustachios, who had been standing with his back to
the orator in half contemptuous patience, faced around suddenly and
made a step forward as if to come between the questioner and
questioned. A voice from the corner ejaculated, "By G--d!"
"Silence," said the orator sharply. Then still more harshly he turned
to the others "Pick him up, and stand him outside with a guard; and
then clear out, all of you!"
The prisoner was lifted up and carried out; the room was instantly
cleared; only the orator and the man who had stepped forward remained.
Simultaneously they drew the masks from their faces, and stood looking
at each other. The orator's face was smooth and corrupt; the full,
sensual lips wrinkled at the corners with a sardonic humor; the man who
confronted him appeared to be physically and even morally his superior,
albeit gloomy and discontented in expression. He cast a rapid glance
around the room, to assure himself that they were alone; and then,
straightening his eyebrows as he backed against the chimney, said:--
"D--d if I like this, Chivers! It's your affair; but it's mighty
low-down work for a man!"
"You might have made it easier if you hadn't knocked up Bryce's gun.
That would have settled it, though no one guessed that the cur was her
husband," said Chivers hotly.
"If you want it settled THAT WAY, there's still time," returned the
other with a slight sneer. "You've only to tell him that you're the
man that ran away with his wife, and you'll have it out together, right
on the ledge at twelve paces. The boys will see you through. In
fact," he added, his sneer deepening, "I rather think it's what they're
expecting."
"Thank you, Mr. Jack Riggs," said Chivers sardonically. "I dare say it
would be more convenient to some people, just before our booty is
divided, if I were drilled through by a blundering shot from that
hayseed; or it would seem right to your high-toned chivalry if a
dead-shot as I am knocked over a man who may have never fired a
revolver before; but I don't exactly see it in that light, either as a
man or as your equal partner. I don't think you quite understand me,
my dear Jack. If you don't value the only man who is identified in all
California as the leader of this gang (the man whose style and address
has made it popular--yes, POPULAR, by G--d!--to every man, woman, and
child who has heard of him; whose sayings and doings are quoted by the
newspapers; whom people run risks to see; who has got the sympathy of
the crowd, so that judges hesitate to issue warrants and constables to
serve them),--if YOU don't see the use of such a man, I do. Why,
there's a column and a half in the 'Sacramento Union' about our last
job, calling me the 'Claude Duval' of the Sierras, and speaking of my
courtesy to a lady! A LADY!--HIS wife, by G--d! our confederate! My
dear Jack, you not only don't know business values, but, 'pon my soul,
you don't seem to understand humor! Ha, ha!"
For all his cynical levity, for all his affected exaggeration, there
was the ring of an unmistakable and even pitiable vanity in his voice,
and a self-consciousness that suffused his broad cheeks and writhed his
full mouth, but seemed to deepen the frown on Riggs's face.
"You know the woman hates it, and would bolt if she could,--even from
you," said Riggs gloomily. "Think what she might do if she knew her
husband were here. I tell you she holds our lives in the hollow of her
hand."
"That's your fault, Mr. Jack Riggs; you would bring your sister with
her infernal convent innocence and simplicity into our hut in the
hollow. She was meek enough before that. But this is sheer nonsense.
I have no fear of her. The woman don't live who would go back on
Godfrey Chivers--for a husband! Besides, she went off to see your
sister at the convent at Santa Clara as soon as she passed those bonds
off on Charley to get rid of! Think of her traveling with that d--d
fool lawyer all the way to Stockton, and his bonds (which we had put
back in her bag) alongside of them all the time, and he telling her he
was going to stop their payment, and giving her the letter to mail for
him!--eh? Well, we'll have time to get rid of her husband before she
gets back. If he don't go easy--well"--
"None of that, Chivers, you understand, once for all!" interrupted
Riggs peremptorily. "If you cannot see that your making away with that
woman's husband would damn that boasted reputation you make so much of
and set every man's hand against us, I do, and I won't permit it. It's
a rotten business enough,--our coming on him as we have; and if this
wasn't the only God-forsaken place where we could divide our stuff
without danger and get it away off the highroads, I'd pull up stakes at
once."
"Let her stay at the convent, then, and be d--d to her," said Chivers
roughly. "She'll be glad enough to be with your sister again; and
there's no fear of her being touched there."
"But I want to put an end to that, too," returned Riggs sharply. "I do
not choose to have my sister any longer implicated with OUR confederate
or YOUR mistress. No more of that--you understand me?"
The two men had been standing side by side, leaning against the
chimney. Chivers now faced his companion, his full lips wreathed into
an evil smile.
"I think I understand you, Mr. Jack Riggs, or--I beg your
pardon--Rivers, or whatever your real name may be," he began slowly.
"Sadie Collinson, the mistress of Judge Godfrey Chivers, formerly of
Kentucky, was good enough company for you the day you dropped down upon
us in our little house in the hollow of Galloper's Ridge. We were
living quite an idyllic, pastoral life there, weren't we?--she and me;
hidden from the censorious eye of society and--Collinson, obeying only
the voice of Nature and the little birds. It was a happy time," he went
on with a grimly affected sigh, disregarding his companion's impatient
gesture. "You were young then, waging YOUR fight against society, and
fresh--uncommonly fresh, I may say--from your first exploit. And a
very stupid, clumsy, awkward exploit, too, Mr. Riggs, if you will
pardon my freedom. You wanted money, and you had an ugly temper, and
you had lost both to a gambler; so you stopped the coach to rob him,
and had to kill two men to get back your paltry thousand dollars, after
frightening a whole coach-load of passengers, and letting Wells, Fargo,
and Co.'s treasure-box with fifty thousand dollars in it slide. It was
a stupid, a blundering, a CRUEL act, Mr. Riggs, and I think I told you
so at the time. It was a waste of energy and material, and made you,
not a hero, but a stupid outcast! I think I proved this to you, and
showed you how it might have been done."
"Dry up on that," interrupted Riggs impatiently. "You offered to
become my partner, and you did."
"Pardon me. Observe, my impetuous friend, that my contention is that
you--YOU--poisoned our blameless Eden in the hollow; that YOU were our
serpent, and that this Sadie Collinson, over whom you have become so
fastidious, whom you knew as my mistress, was obliged to become our
confederate. You did not object to her when we formed our gang, and
her house became our hiding-place and refuge. You took advantage of
her woman's wit and fine address in disposing of our booty; you availed
yourself, with the rest, of the secrets she gathered as MY mistress,
just as you were willing to profit by the superior address of her
paramour--your humble servant--when your own face was known to the
sheriff, and your old methods pronounced brutal and vulgar. Excuse me,
but I must insist upon THIS, and that you dropped down upon me and
Sadie Collinson exactly as you have dropped down here upon her husband."
"Enough of this!" said Riggs angrily. "I admit the woman is part and
parcel of the gang, and gets her share,--or you get it for her," he
added sneeringly; "but that doesn't permit her to mix herself with my
family affairs."
"Pardon me again," interrupted Chivers softly. "Your memory, my dear
Riggs, is absurdly defective. We knew that you had a young sister in
the mountains, from whom you discreetly wished to conceal your real
position. We respected, and I trust shall always respect, your noble
reticence. But do you remember the night you were taking her to school
at Santa Clara,--two nights before the fire,--when you were recognized
on the road near Skinner's, and had to fly with her for your life, and
brought her to us,--your two dear old friends, 'Mr. and Mrs. Barker of
Chicago,' who had a pastoral home in the forest? You remember how we
took her in,--yes, doubly took her in,--and kept your secret from her?
And do you remember how this woman (this mistress of MINE and OUR
confederate), while we were away, saved her from the fire on our only
horse, caught the stage-coach, and brought her to the convent?"
Riggs walked towards the window, turned, and coming back, held out his
hand. "Yes, she did it; and I thanked her, as I thank you." He stopped
and hesitated, as the other took his hand. "But, blank it all,
Chivers, don't you see that Alice is a young girl, and this woman
is--you know what I mean. Somebody might recognize HER, and that would
be worse for Alice than even if it were known what Alice's BROTHER was.
G--d! if these two things were put together, the girl would be ruined
forever."
"Jack," said Chivers suddenly, "you want this woman out of the way.
Well--dash it all!--she nearly separated us, and I'll be frank with you
as between man and man. I'll give her up! There are women enough in
the world, and hang it, we're partners, after all!"
"Then you abandon her?" said Riggs slowly, his eyes fixed on his
companion.
"Yes. She's getting a little too maundering lately. It will be a
ticklish job to manage, for she knows too much; but it will be done.
There's my hand on it."
Riggs not only took no notice of the proffered hand, but his former
look of discontent came back with an ill-concealed addition of loathing
and contempt.
"We'll drop that now," he said shortly; "we've talked here alone long
enough already. The men are waiting for us." He turned on his heel
into the inner room. Chivers remained standing by the chimney until
his stiffened smile gave way under the working of his writhing lips;
then he turned to the bar, poured out and swallowed another glass of
whiskey at a single gulp, and followed his partner with half-closed
