Nevada (1995) (39 page)

"Elam, do you know draw-poker?" asked Jim, presently.

"Tolerable. I wisht I hed stake enough to set in this hyar game.

I'd bust somebody," replied old Hatt, to the amusement of th
e
gamesters.

"Play a few hands for me," said Jim, rising. "Change my luck
,
maybe. I want a drink."

"Whiskey?"

"No. Water. Where'll I get it?"

"Thar inside the kitchen door at the end of the porch," replie
d
Hatt, rising with alacrity to take Jim's place. "My girl jes
t
fetched some fresh from the spring. Snow water, an' thar's non
e
better."

As Jim neared the porch, Rose came out of the cabin where he ha
d
seen her, and crossed to enter the other. She wore buckskin. H
e
caught the flash of brown bare legs and feet. Jim went down th
e
porch and entered the door mentioned by Hatt. As he expected, h
e
encountered Rose. Despite excitement manifest in her face, h
e
thought she looked clearer of eye and skin, somehow prettier.

"Howdy, Rose! You see I've come," he said.

"I saw you first thing," she replied.

"I want a drink, please."

She filled a dipper from a pail and handed it to him. Facing he
r
and standing in the door, Jim drank thirstily. It was good water.

"Will it be all right if I talk to you?" asked Jim.

"Sure. 'Cept when Cedar's around."

"Where is he?"

"Reckon he's hidin' somewhere, watchin' you-all. So we can't tal
k
now. . . . But, oh! I've so much to tell you!"

"Yes? Tell me a little--quick," said Jim.

"Marvie's to fetch Hettie Ide--to meet me," whispered the girl
,
fearfully, yet with eyes full of glad light. "Oh, she must be a
n
angel! He says she will give me a home--if I can ever get awa
y
from here."

"Wal, now, that's fine," sympathized Jim, vibrating to this news.

"THREE friends now--Marvie an' Hettie Ide an' me. Lucky girl!"

"I can't thank God enough," she breathed from a full breast.

"Keep on thankin', an' fightin'," said Jim, with ring of voice an
d
meaning smile. Then he set down the dipper on the bench and backe
d
out of the door, eyes still intent on Rose. She was flushed o
f
face now, eager, hopeful, yet still fearful.

"I will. They can't stop me now--unless they kill me," sh
e
answered, resolutely, with a wonderful blaze in her eyes.

"Who're they, Rose?"

"Cedar, for one. I told you," she replied, haltingly. But ther
e
seemed to be tremendous impelling power working on her--greater
,
Jim sensed, than could come through him just then.

"Tell me the other man."

"Oh, I daren't--I daren't," she faltered, losing courage.

"If you love Marvie--an' if SHE will stand by you--you can dare,"
h
e shot at her, relentlessly.

She showed then a struggle over fear that had outlived childis
h
years.

"Rose, that other man is Clan Dillon?"

"Yes--yes," she whispered, in unutterable relief, as if she ha
d
been spared betraying him. "Are--are you to be here long?"

"Days, maybe weeks."

"Keep watch," begged the girl, finding courage. "Cedar will dra
g
me off in the woods--to meet Dillon. If he does--follow us, fo
r
God's sake."

"I shore will, Rose. Don't lose your nerve."

"But be CAREFUL, Cedar's an Indian in the woods."

Jim Lacy leisurely turned, and with glance on the ground
,
apparently idle and lax, he strolled back to the gamesters.

"How comes the luck, Elam?" he asked.

"My Gord! Won three hands straight runnin'," ejaculated Hatt.

"An' one a fat jack-pot."

"Wal, shore reckoned you'd change my luck. Play 'em for all you'r
e
worth, Elam, an' if you break this outfit I'll divvy with you."

"Ha! he's got no chanct on earth, Jim," said Cash. "Better se
t
back in before we break you."

Old Elam held his own, however, evidently to his immens
e
gratification. Jim watched for a while, much amused, until hi
s
ever-roving glance fastened upon a newcomer to the scene.

A man had come out of the aspen thicket. He carried a rifle, whic
h
he held by the barrel over his shoulder. His gait, his build
,
betrayed him to Jim Lacy. This was Cedar Hatt.

Jim had been kneeling on one knee behind Elam, and now, leisurel
y
rising to his feet, he stood at ease. Upon nearer view Cedar Hat
t
turned out to possess only the walk and the shape of the Hat
t
family. He was darker than any of them, with beardless face o
f
clear brown tan, small glittering eyes set close, black as coal
,
and of a strange intensity, sharp nose and sharp chin, with a sli
t
between for a mouth. He wore his hair long and it curled dark fro
m
under an old slouch hat full of bullet holes. His garb was greas
y
buckskin, from head to toe. There was a knife in his belt, but n
o
shells for the rifle.

Cedar Hatt stood across from the circle of gamblers, and droppin
g
the muzzle of his rifle upon his moccasined foot he leaned on it
,
and gave his restless sloe-black eyes scope of all present. If th
e
players saw him they gave no outward show of it. At length Ceda
r
put the toe of his moccasin against his father.

Elam looked up with a start.

"Hullo! You back, Cedar?"

The son made an almost imperceptible movement with his right han
d
toward Lacy.

"Cedar, say howdy to Jim Lacy," went on Hatt, a little hurriedly.

Nevertheless, he was not greatly concerned. "Lacy, this hyar's m
y
son Cedar."

Jim nodded civilly, without speaking, and he received even less i
n
response. A look, like a streak of black lightning, flashed ove
r
him from head to toe--then Cedar Hatt deigned him no mor
e
attention.

It was a singular thing for Jim Lacy to meet men; and in a cas
e
like this, when he knew before he had seen Cedar Hatt that he wa
s
going to kill him, the incident seemed extraordinarily potent an
d
strange. If there was an instinct to act almost involuntarily i
n
such a meeting, there was also an intuitive searching tha
t
followed. Lacy needed only the slightest glimpse at Hatt's eyes t
o
know that he had not yet learned of the killing of Burt Stillwell.

After that instant the meeting became only ordinary for Jim
,
inasmuch as Hatt could never again be formidable face to face. Ji
m
knew him now. It was the unfamiliar that men of Lacy's calibe
r
always reckoned with.

The game progressed, with luck shifting from one player to another
,
and manifestly what seemed a long, tedious, irritating waste o
f
time to Jim was only a fleeting of precious moments to th
e
gamblers.

Finally Cedar Hatt, without ever having uttered a word, shouldere
d
his rifle, and stalked away with the spring of a deer-hunter in hi
s
stride. He went up the canyon to disappear around the green bend.

Whereupon Lacy strolled away himself, into the golden shade of th
e
aspen thicket, and on through darker shade to the lichened base o
f
the cliff. He flung himself down here and leaned against the wall.

Above him the quivering aspen leaves fluttered with the marvelou
s
noiseless movement peculiar to them. All around in the brush th
e
lizards rustled. Nature was alive and full of treasure for th
e
watcher, the seeker. But Jim Lacy's eyes were focused inward; hi
s
ears were attuned to a beating within. He had come there into th
e
obscurity and loneliness of the thicket to think, to plan, to plot
,
to work out a course he could inevitably follow. But how useles
s
that was! The slightest accident or incident might change the bes
t
of his plans. If he decided on a definite thing his mind would b
e
set. His task demanded more than that; and it involved infinit
e
patience and sacrifice, incredible command of geniality and good-
f
ellowship with these rustlers, sight and sense that must gras
p
every little clue which might lead to the success of his venture.

All this when his spirit revolted and his nature demanded quick
,
hard, fierce action!

After supper, which was served about sundown, on the porch betwee
n
the two cabins, Elam Hatt scraped his rude seat back and arose.

"You-all who want to gamble air welcome, but I reckon some of yo
u
will want to set in to a confab with me."

He went into his cabin, followed by Burridge and Lacy. The larg
e
room was dark, except where breaks in the chinks between the log
s
let in light. Hatt stirred the slumbering embers in the hug
e
yellow stone fireplace and put on chips of wood.

"Reckon they'll want the lamps, an' we don't need none," said Elam.

The door opened to admit Cedar Hatt, who advanced with his slidin
g
silent step, to seat himself on a bench in the shadow besides th
e
stone chimney.

"Burridge, if thar's a lead weight on your chest, shove it off,"
i
nvited Elam, bending down to lift a fiery ember with which t
o
light his pipe.

"Are you open to a big deal?" queried the rustler, bluntly.

"Always open to anythin'. But I'm careful not to change the mind
s
of ranchers about Elam Hatt," replied the backwoodsman, shrewdly.

"Which means they think you do some two-bit brandin' of mavericks
,
like any cowboy, but you never tackle a real rustlin' job?"

"Reckon thet's the size of it, Cash."

"An' that's exactly why I'm goin' to spring this deal on you. N
o
one will ever lay it to you an' everyone will lay it to the Pin
e
Tree outfit. Savvy? The time's just ripe. The trap's set. W
e
can't do it half so well without you an' your sons. We don't kno
w
the country. Otherwise you bet we wouldn't let you or anyone els
e
in on it."

"Sounds good. I'm listenin'."

"Tom Day an' Franklidge have throwed a big herd of stock together.

Some of it's workin' with Ben Ide's big herd, the last of hi
s
stock, in what the sheepherders call Silver Meadows. They're hig
h
an' won't be comin' down before the fall roundup. That'll com
e
anywhere along first of October. Now while them cattle are high u
p
we plan to drive them--ON UP OVER THE RIM--an' down into the Basin
,
where we could sell a hundred times as many head, with never
a
question asked. I've already got the buyer. To do the job righ
t
an' quick we need more riders, an' particular some who know how t
o
find fast travelin' through them bad canyons up to the Rim. That'
s
all. I leave it to you to call the turn on that deal."