章节正文
He seems a little off his head."
"Reckon he is. Somebody is, that's sure. You claim Buck Duane,
then, an' all his doings?"
"I'm Duane; yes. But I won't stand for the blame of things I
never did. That's why I'm here. I saw that placard out there
offering the reward. Until now I never was within half a day's
ride of this town. I'm blamed for what I never did. I rode in
here, told who I was, asked somebody to send for Jeff Aiken."
"An' then you set down an' let this old guy throw your own gun
on you?" queried the cowboy in amazement.
"I guess that's it," replied Duane.
"Well, it's powerful strange, if you're really Buck Duane."
A man elbowed his way into the circle.
"It's Duane. I recognize him. I seen him in more'n one place,"
he said. "Sibert, you can rely on what I tell you. I don't know
if he's locoed or what. But I do know he's the genuine Buck
Duane. Any one who'd ever seen him onct would never forget
him."
"What do you want to see Aiken for?" asked the cowboy Sibert.
"I want to face him, and tell him I never harmed his wife."
"Why?"
"Because I'm innocent, that's all."
"Suppose we send for Aiken an' he hears you an' doesn't believe
you; what then?"
"If he won't believe me--why, then my case's so bad--I'd be
better off dead."
A momentary silence was broken by Sibert.
"If this isn't a queer deal! Boys, reckon we'd better send for
Jeff."
"Somebody went fer him. He'll be comin' soon," replied a man.
Duane stood a head taller than that circle of curious faces. He
gazed out above and beyond them. It was in this way that he
chanced to see a number of women on the outskirts of the crowd.
Some were old, with hard faces, like the men. Some were young
and comely, and most of these seemed agitated by excitement or
distress. They cast fearful, pitying glances upon Duane as he
stood there with that noose round his neck. Women were more
human than men, Duane thought. He met eyes that dilated, seemed
fascinated at his gaze, but were not averted. It was the old
women who were voluble, loud in expression of their feelings.
Near the trunk of the cottonwood stood a slender woman in
white. Duane's wandering glance rested upon her. Her eyes were
riveted upon him. A soft-hearted woman, probably, who did not
want to see him hanged!
"Thar comes Jeff Aiken now," called a man, loudly.
The crowd shifted and trampled in eagerness.
Duane saw two men coming fast, one of whom, in the lead, was of
stalwart build. He had a gun in his hand, and his manner was
that of fierce energy.
The cowboy Sibert thrust open the jostling circle of men.
"Hold on, Jeff," he called, and he blocked the man with the
gun. He spoke so low Duane could not hear what he said, and his
form hid Aiken's face. At that juncture the crowd spread out,
closed in, and Aiken and Sibert were caught in the circle.
There was a pushing forward, a pressing of many bodies, hoarse
cries and flinging hands--again the insanetumult was about to
break out--the demand for an outlaw's blood, the call for a
wild justice executed a thousand times before on Texas's bloody
soil.
Sibert bellowed at the dark encroaching mass. The cowboys with
him beat and cuffed in vain.
"Jeff, will you listen?" broke in Sibert, hurriedly, his hand
on the other man's arm.
Aiken nodded coolly. Duane, who had seen many men in perfect
control of themselves under circumstances like these,
recognized the spirit that dominated Aiken. He was white, cold,
passionless. There were lines of bitter grief deep round his
lips. If Duane ever felt the meaning of death he felt it then.
"Sure this 's your game, Aiken," said Sibert. "But hear me a
minute. Reckon there's no doubt about this man bein' Buck
Duane. He seen the placard out at the cross-roads. He rides in
to Shirley. He says he's Buck Duane an' he's lookin' for Jeff
Aiken. That's all clear enough. You know how these gunfighters
go lookin' for trouble. But here's what stumps me. Duane sits
down there on the bench and lets old Abe Strickland grab his
gun ant get the drop on him. More'n that, he gives me some
strange talk about how, if he couldn't make you believe he's
innocent, he'd better be dead. You see for yourself Duane ain't
drunk or crazy or locoed. He doesn't strike me as a man who
rode in here huntin' blood. So I reckon you'd better hold on
till you hear what he has to say."
Then for the first time the drawn-faced, hungry-eyed giant
turned his gaze upon Duane. He had intelligence which was not
yet subservient to passion. Moreover, he seemed the kind of man
Duane would care to have judge him in a critical moment like
this.
"Listen," said Duane, gravely, with his eyes steady on Aiken's,
"I'm Buck Duane. I never lied to any man in my life. I was
forced into outlawry. I've never had a chance to leave the
country. I've killed men to save my own life. I never
intentionally harmed any woman. I rode thirty miles
to-day--deliberately to see what this reward was, who made it,
what for. When I read the placard I went sick to the bottom of
my soul. So I rode in here to find you--to tell you this: I
never saw Shirley before to-day. It was impossible for me to
have--killed your wife. Last September I was two hundred miles
north of here on the upper Nueces. I can prove that. Men who
know me will tell you I couldn't murder a woman. I haven't any
idea why such a deed should be laid at my hands. It's just that
wild border gossip. I have no idea what reasons you have for
holding me responsible. I only know--you're wrong. You've been
deceived. And see here, Aiken. You understand I'm a miserable
man. I'm about broken, I guess. I don't care any more for life,
for anything. If you can't look me in the eyes, man to man, and
believe what I say--why, by God! you can kill me!"
Aiken heaved a great breath.
"Buck Duane, whether I'm impressed or not by what you say
needn't matter. You've had accusers, justly or unjustly, as
will soon appear. The thing is we can prove you innocent or
guilty. My girl Lucy saw my wife's assailant."
He motioned for the crowd of men to open up.
"Somebody--you, Sibert--go for Lucy. That'll settle this
thing."
Duane heard as a man in an ugly dream. The faces around him,
the hum of voices, all seemed far off. His life hung by the
merest thread. Yet he did not think of that so much as of the
brand of a woman-murderer which might be soon sealed upon him
by a frightened, imaginative child.
The crowd trooped apart and closed again. Duane caught a
blurred image of a slight girl clinging to Sibert's hand. He
could not see distinctly. Aiken lifted the child, whispered
soothingly to her not to be afraid. Then he fetched her closer
to Duane.
"Lucy, tell me. Did you ever see this man before?" asked Aiken,
huskily and low. "Is he the one--who came in the house that
day--struck you down--and dragged mama--?"
Aiken's voice failed.
A lightning flash seemed to clear Duane's blurred sight. He saw
a pale, sad face and violet eyes fixed in gloom and horror upon
his. No terrible moment in Duane's life ever equaled this one
of silence--of suspense.
"It's ain't him!" cried the child.
Then Sibert was flinging the noose off Duane's neck and
unwinding the bonds round his arms. The spellbound crowd awoke
to hoarse exclamations.
"See there, my locoed gents, how easy you'd hang the wrong
man," burst out the cowboy, as he made the rope-end hiss.
"You-all are a lot of wise rangers. Haw! haw!"
He freed Duane and thrust the bone-handled gun back in Duane's
holster.
"You Abe, there. Reckon you pulled a stunt! But don't try the
like again. And, men, I'll gamble there's a hell of a lot of
bad work Buck Duane's named for--which all he never done. Clear
away there. Where's his hoss? Duane, the road's open out of
Shirley."
Sibert swept the gaping watchers aside and pressed Duane toward
the horse, which another cowboy held. Mechanically Duane
mounted, felt a lift as he went up. Then the cowboy's hard face
softened in a smile.
"I reckon it ain't uncivil of me to say--hit that road quick!"
he said, frankly.
He led the horse out of the crowd. Aiken joined him, and
between them they escorted Duane across the plaza. The crowd
appeared irresistibly drawn to follow.
Aiken paused with his big hand on Duane's knee. In it,
unconsciously probably, he still held the gun.
"Duane, a word with you," he said. "I believe you're not so
black as you've been painted. I wish there was time to say
more. Tell me this, anyway. Do you know the Ranger Captain
MacNelly?"
"I do not," replied Duane, in surprise.
"I met him only a week ago over in Fairfield," went on Aiken,
hurriedly. "He declared you never killed my wife. I didn't
believe him--argued with him. We almost had hard words over it.
Now--I'm sorry. The last thing he said was: 'If you ever see
Duane don't kill him. Send him into my camp after dark!' He
meant something strange. What--I can't say. But he was right,
and I was wrong. If Lucy had batted an eye I'd have killed you.
Still, I wouldn't advise you to hunt up MacNelly's camp. He's
clever. Maybe he believes there's no treachery in his new ideas
of ranger tactics. I tell you for all it's worth. Good-by. May
God help you further as he did this day!"
Duane said good-by and touched the horse with his spurs.
"So long, Buck!" called Sibert, with that frank smile breaking
warm over his brown face; and he held his sombrero high.
CHAPTER XIV
When Duane reached the crossing of the roads the name Fairfield
on the sign-post seemed to be the thing that tipped the
oscillating balance of decision in favor of that direction.
He answered here to unfathomable impulse. If he had been driven
to hunt up Jeff Aiken, now he was called to find this unknown
ranger captain. In Duane's state of mind clear reasoning,
common sense, or keenness were out of the question. He went
because he felt he was compelled.
Dusk had fallen when he rode into a town which inquiry
discovered to be Fairfield. Captain MacNelly's camp was
stationed just out of the village limits on the other side.
No one except the boy Duane questioned appeared to notice his
arrival. Like Shirley, the town of Fairfield was large and
prosperous, compared to the innumerable hamlets dotting the
vast extent of southwestern Texas. As Duane rode through, being
careful to get off the main street, he heard the tolling of a
church-bell that was a melancholyreminder of his old home.
There did not appear to be any camp on the outskirts of the
town. But as Duane sat his horse, peering around and undecided
what further move to make, he caught the glint of flickering
lights through the darkness. Heading toward them, he rode
perhaps a quarter of a mile to come upon a grove of mesquite.
The brightness of several fires made the surrounding darkness
all the blacker. Duane saw the moving forms of men and heard
horses. He advanced naturally, expecting any moment to be
"Reckon he is. Somebody is, that's sure. You claim Buck Duane,
then, an' all his doings?"
"I'm Duane; yes. But I won't stand for the blame of things I
never did. That's why I'm here. I saw that placard out there
offering the reward. Until now I never was within half a day's
ride of this town. I'm blamed for what I never did. I rode in
here, told who I was, asked somebody to send for Jeff Aiken."
"An' then you set down an' let this old guy throw your own gun
on you?" queried the cowboy in amazement.
"I guess that's it," replied Duane.
"Well, it's powerful strange, if you're really Buck Duane."
A man elbowed his way into the circle.
"It's Duane. I recognize him. I seen him in more'n one place,"
he said. "Sibert, you can rely on what I tell you. I don't know
if he's locoed or what. But I do know he's the genuine Buck
Duane. Any one who'd ever seen him onct would never forget
him."
"What do you want to see Aiken for?" asked the cowboy Sibert.
"I want to face him, and tell him I never harmed his wife."
"Why?"
"Because I'm innocent, that's all."
"Suppose we send for Aiken an' he hears you an' doesn't believe
you; what then?"
"If he won't believe me--why, then my case's so bad--I'd be
better off dead."
A momentary silence was broken by Sibert.
"If this isn't a queer deal! Boys, reckon we'd better send for
Jeff."
"Somebody went fer him. He'll be comin' soon," replied a man.
Duane stood a head taller than that circle of curious faces. He
gazed out above and beyond them. It was in this way that he
chanced to see a number of women on the outskirts of the crowd.
Some were old, with hard faces, like the men. Some were young
and comely, and most of these seemed agitated by excitement or
distress. They cast fearful, pitying glances upon Duane as he
stood there with that noose round his neck. Women were more
human than men, Duane thought. He met eyes that dilated, seemed
fascinated at his gaze, but were not averted. It was the old
women who were voluble, loud in expression of their feelings.
Near the trunk of the cottonwood stood a slender woman in
white. Duane's wandering glance rested upon her. Her eyes were
riveted upon him. A soft-hearted woman, probably, who did not
want to see him hanged!
"Thar comes Jeff Aiken now," called a man, loudly.
The crowd shifted and trampled in eagerness.
Duane saw two men coming fast, one of whom, in the lead, was of
stalwart build. He had a gun in his hand, and his manner was
that of fierce energy.
The cowboy Sibert thrust open the jostling circle of men.
"Hold on, Jeff," he called, and he blocked the man with the
gun. He spoke so low Duane could not hear what he said, and his
form hid Aiken's face. At that juncture the crowd spread out,
closed in, and Aiken and Sibert were caught in the circle.
There was a pushing forward, a pressing of many bodies, hoarse
cries and flinging hands--again the insanetumult was about to
break out--the demand for an outlaw's blood, the call for a
wild justice executed a thousand times before on Texas's bloody
soil.
Sibert bellowed at the dark encroaching mass. The cowboys with
him beat and cuffed in vain.
"Jeff, will you listen?" broke in Sibert, hurriedly, his hand
on the other man's arm.
Aiken nodded coolly. Duane, who had seen many men in perfect
control of themselves under circumstances like these,
recognized the spirit that dominated Aiken. He was white, cold,
passionless. There were lines of bitter grief deep round his
lips. If Duane ever felt the meaning of death he felt it then.
"Sure this 's your game, Aiken," said Sibert. "But hear me a
minute. Reckon there's no doubt about this man bein' Buck
Duane. He seen the placard out at the cross-roads. He rides in
to Shirley. He says he's Buck Duane an' he's lookin' for Jeff
Aiken. That's all clear enough. You know how these gunfighters
go lookin' for trouble. But here's what stumps me. Duane sits
down there on the bench and lets old Abe Strickland grab his
gun ant get the drop on him. More'n that, he gives me some
strange talk about how, if he couldn't make you believe he's
innocent, he'd better be dead. You see for yourself Duane ain't
drunk or crazy or locoed. He doesn't strike me as a man who
rode in here huntin' blood. So I reckon you'd better hold on
till you hear what he has to say."
Then for the first time the drawn-faced, hungry-eyed giant
turned his gaze upon Duane. He had intelligence which was not
yet subservient to passion. Moreover, he seemed the kind of man
Duane would care to have judge him in a critical moment like
this.
"Listen," said Duane, gravely, with his eyes steady on Aiken's,
"I'm Buck Duane. I never lied to any man in my life. I was
forced into outlawry. I've never had a chance to leave the
country. I've killed men to save my own life. I never
intentionally harmed any woman. I rode thirty miles
to-day--deliberately to see what this reward was, who made it,
what for. When I read the placard I went sick to the bottom of
my soul. So I rode in here to find you--to tell you this: I
never saw Shirley before to-day. It was impossible for me to
have--killed your wife. Last September I was two hundred miles
north of here on the upper Nueces. I can prove that. Men who
know me will tell you I couldn't murder a woman. I haven't any
idea why such a deed should be laid at my hands. It's just that
wild border gossip. I have no idea what reasons you have for
holding me responsible. I only know--you're wrong. You've been
deceived. And see here, Aiken. You understand I'm a miserable
man. I'm about broken, I guess. I don't care any more for life,
for anything. If you can't look me in the eyes, man to man, and
believe what I say--why, by God! you can kill me!"
Aiken heaved a great breath.
"Buck Duane, whether I'm impressed or not by what you say
needn't matter. You've had accusers, justly or unjustly, as
will soon appear. The thing is we can prove you innocent or
guilty. My girl Lucy saw my wife's assailant."
He motioned for the crowd of men to open up.
"Somebody--you, Sibert--go for Lucy. That'll settle this
thing."
Duane heard as a man in an ugly dream. The faces around him,
the hum of voices, all seemed far off. His life hung by the
merest thread. Yet he did not think of that so much as of the
brand of a woman-murderer which might be soon sealed upon him
by a frightened, imaginative child.
The crowd trooped apart and closed again. Duane caught a
blurred image of a slight girl clinging to Sibert's hand. He
could not see distinctly. Aiken lifted the child, whispered
soothingly to her not to be afraid. Then he fetched her closer
to Duane.
"Lucy, tell me. Did you ever see this man before?" asked Aiken,
huskily and low. "Is he the one--who came in the house that
day--struck you down--and dragged mama--?"
Aiken's voice failed.
A lightning flash seemed to clear Duane's blurred sight. He saw
a pale, sad face and violet eyes fixed in gloom and horror upon
his. No terrible moment in Duane's life ever equaled this one
of silence--of suspense.
"It's ain't him!" cried the child.
Then Sibert was flinging the noose off Duane's neck and
unwinding the bonds round his arms. The spellbound crowd awoke
to hoarse exclamations.
"See there, my locoed gents, how easy you'd hang the wrong
man," burst out the cowboy, as he made the rope-end hiss.
"You-all are a lot of wise rangers. Haw! haw!"
He freed Duane and thrust the bone-handled gun back in Duane's
holster.
"You Abe, there. Reckon you pulled a stunt! But don't try the
like again. And, men, I'll gamble there's a hell of a lot of
bad work Buck Duane's named for--which all he never done. Clear
away there. Where's his hoss? Duane, the road's open out of
Shirley."
Sibert swept the gaping watchers aside and pressed Duane toward
the horse, which another cowboy held. Mechanically Duane
mounted, felt a lift as he went up. Then the cowboy's hard face
softened in a smile.
"I reckon it ain't uncivil of me to say--hit that road quick!"
he said, frankly.
He led the horse out of the crowd. Aiken joined him, and
between them they escorted Duane across the plaza. The crowd
appeared irresistibly drawn to follow.
Aiken paused with his big hand on Duane's knee. In it,
unconsciously probably, he still held the gun.
"Duane, a word with you," he said. "I believe you're not so
black as you've been painted. I wish there was time to say
more. Tell me this, anyway. Do you know the Ranger Captain
MacNelly?"
"I do not," replied Duane, in surprise.
"I met him only a week ago over in Fairfield," went on Aiken,
hurriedly. "He declared you never killed my wife. I didn't
believe him--argued with him. We almost had hard words over it.
Now--I'm sorry. The last thing he said was: 'If you ever see
Duane don't kill him. Send him into my camp after dark!' He
meant something strange. What--I can't say. But he was right,
and I was wrong. If Lucy had batted an eye I'd have killed you.
Still, I wouldn't advise you to hunt up MacNelly's camp. He's
clever. Maybe he believes there's no treachery in his new ideas
of ranger tactics. I tell you for all it's worth. Good-by. May
God help you further as he did this day!"
Duane said good-by and touched the horse with his spurs.
"So long, Buck!" called Sibert, with that frank smile breaking
warm over his brown face; and he held his sombrero high.
CHAPTER XIV
When Duane reached the crossing of the roads the name Fairfield
on the sign-post seemed to be the thing that tipped the
oscillating balance of decision in favor of that direction.
He answered here to unfathomable impulse. If he had been driven
to hunt up Jeff Aiken, now he was called to find this unknown
ranger captain. In Duane's state of mind clear reasoning,
common sense, or keenness were out of the question. He went
because he felt he was compelled.
Dusk had fallen when he rode into a town which inquiry
discovered to be Fairfield. Captain MacNelly's camp was
stationed just out of the village limits on the other side.
No one except the boy Duane questioned appeared to notice his
arrival. Like Shirley, the town of Fairfield was large and
prosperous, compared to the innumerable hamlets dotting the
vast extent of southwestern Texas. As Duane rode through, being
careful to get off the main street, he heard the tolling of a
church-bell that was a melancholyreminder of his old home.
There did not appear to be any camp on the outskirts of the
town. But as Duane sat his horse, peering around and undecided
what further move to make, he caught the glint of flickering
lights through the darkness. Heading toward them, he rode
perhaps a quarter of a mile to come upon a grove of mesquite.
The brightness of several fires made the surrounding darkness
all the blacker. Duane saw the moving forms of men and heard
horses. He advanced naturally, expecting any moment to be
- reward [ri´wɔ:d]
n.&v.报答；报酬；奖赏 (初中英语单词) - innocent [´inəsənt] a.无罪的；单纯的 (初中英语单词)
- reckon [´rekən] v.计算；认为；估计 (初中英语单词)
- circle [´sə:kəl] n.圆圈 v.环绕；盘旋 (初中英语单词)
- excitement [ik´saitmənt] n.兴奋；骚动；煽动 (初中英语单词)
- fearful [´fiəfəl] a.可怕的；担心的 (初中英语单词)
- slender [´slendə] a.细长的；微薄的 (初中英语单词)
- fierce [fiəs] a.残忍的；强烈的 (初中英语单词)
- thrust [θrʌst] v.&n.猛推；冲；刺；挤进 (初中英语单词)
- intelligence [in´telidʒəns] n.智力；消息 (初中英语单词)
- passion [´pæʃən] n.激情；激怒；恋爱 (初中英语单词)
- moreover [mɔ:´rəuvə] ad.再者，此外，而且 (初中英语单词)
- gravely [´greivli] ad.庄重地，严肃地 (初中英语单词)
- responsible [ri´spɔnsəbəl] a.尽责的；责任重大的 (初中英语单词)
- distinctly [di´stiŋktli] ad.清楚地，明晰地 (初中英语单词)
- lightning [´laitniŋ] n.闪电 a.突然的 (初中英语单词)
- violet [´vaiələt] n.&a.紫罗兰(的)；紫色 (初中英语单词)
- horror [´hɔrə] n.恐怖；战栗 (初中英语单词)
- advise [əd´vaiz] vt.忠告；建议；通知 (初中英语单词)
- impulse [´impʌls] n.推动(力)；冲动；刺激 (初中英语单词)
- extent [ik´stent] n.长度；程度；范围 (初中英语单词)
- advanced [əd´vɑ:nst] a.先进的；高级的 (初中英语单词)
- genuine [´dʒenjuin] a.真正的；真诚的 (高中英语单词)
- insane [in´sein] a.患神经病的；疯狂的 (高中英语单词)
- tumult [´tju:mʌlt, ´tu:-] n.喧哗；激昂；烦乱 (高中英语单词)
- critical [´kritikəl] a.批评的；关键性的 (高中英语单词)
- gossip [´gɔsip] n.&vi.说闲话；聊天 (高中英语单词)
- gamble [´gæmbəl] v.&n.赌博；投机；冒险 (高中英语单词)
- treachery [´tretʃəri] n.背叛；背信弃义 (高中英语单词)
- innumerable [i´nju:mərəbəl] a.无数的，数不清的 (高中英语单词)
- melancholy [´melənkəli] n.忧郁 a.忧郁的 (高中英语单词)
- brightness [´braitnis] n.光明；快乐 (高中英语单词)
- surrounding [sə´raundiŋ] n.周围的事物 (高中英语单词)
- momentary [´məuməntəri] a.瞬息间的 (英语四级单词)
- comely [´kʌmli] a.秀丽的；文雅的 (英语四级单词)
- hurriedly [´hʌridli] ad.仓促地，忙乱地 (英语四级单词)
- coolly [´ku:li] ad.冷(静地)，沉着地 (英语四级单词)
- justly [´dʒʌstli] ad.公正地，正当地 (英语四级单词)
- hoarse [hɔ:s] a.嘶哑的；嗓门粗哑的 (英语四级单词)
- tactics [´tæktiks] n.策略；战术 (英语四级单词)
- cowboy [´kaubɔi] n.牧童；牛仔 (英语六级单词)
- outskirts [´autskə:ts] n.外边；郊区 (英语六级单词)
- imaginative [i´mædʒənətiv] a.富于想象(力)的 (英语六级单词)
- mechanically [mi´kænikəli] ad.机械地；无意识地 (英语六级单词)
- southwestern [,sauθ´westən] a.西南的 (英语六级单词)
- reminder [ri´maində] n.提醒物；纪念品；暗示 (英语六级单词)
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