章节正文
report to the Adjutant-General at Austin. Longstreth, you'll
never prevent another arrest."
Longstreth sat white with working jaw.
"Longstreth, you've shown your hand," said Duane, in a voice
that carried far and held those who heard. "Any honest citizen
of Fairdale can now see what's plain--yours is a damn poor
hand! You're going to hear me call a spade a spade. In the two
years you've been Mayor you've never arrested one rustler.
Strange, when Fairdale's a nest for rustlers! You've never sent
a prisoner to Del Rio, let alone to Austin. You have no jail.
There have been nine murders during your office--innumerable
street-fights and holdups. Not one arrest! But you have ordered
arrests for trivial offenses, and have punished these out of
all proportion. There have been lawsuits in your court-suits
over water-rights, cattle deals, property lines. Strange how in
these lawsuits you or Lawson or other men close to you were
always involved! Strange how it seems the law was stretched to
favor your interest!"
Duane paused in his cold, ringing speech. In the silence, both
outside and inside the hall, could be heard the deep breathing
of agitated men. Longstreth was indeed a study. Yet did he
betray anything but rage at this interloper?
"Longstreth, here's plain talk for you and Fairdale," went on
Duane. "I don't accuse you and your court of dishonesty. I say
STRANGE! Law here has been a farce. The motive behind all this
laxity isn't plain to me--yet. But I call your hand!"
CHAPTER XVII
Duane left the hall, elbowed his way through the crowd, and
went down the street. He was certain that on the faces of some
men he had seen ill-concealed wonder and satisfaction. He had
struck some kind of a hot trait, and he meant to see where it
led. It was by no means unlikely that Cheseldine might be at
the other end. Duane controlled a mounting eagerness. But ever
and anon it was shot through with a remembrance of Ray
Longstreth. He suspected her father of being not what he
pretended. He might, very probably would, bring sorrow and
shame to this young woman. The thought made him smart with
pain. She began to haunt him, and then he was thinking more of
her beauty and sweetness than of the disgrace he might bring
upon her. Some strange emotion, long locked inside Duane's
heart, knocked to be heard, to be let out. He was troubled.
Upon returning to the inn he found Laramie there, apparently
none the worse for his injury.
"How are you, Laramie?" he asked.
"Reckon I'm feelin' as well as could be expected," replied
Laramie. His head was circled by a bandage that did not conceal
the lump where he had been struck. He looked pale, but was
bright enough.
"That was a good crack Snecker gave you," remarked Duane.
"I ain't accusin' Bo," remonstrated Laramie, with eyes that
made Duane thoughtful.
"Well, I accuse him. I caught him--took him to Longstreth's
court. But they let him go."
Laramie appeared to be agitated by this intimation of
friendship.
"See here, Laramie," went on Duane, "in some parts of Texas
it's policy to be close-mouthed. Policy and health-preserving!
Between ourselves, I want you to know I lean on your side of
the fence."
Laramie gave a quick start. Presently Duane turned and frankly
met his gaze. He had startled Laramie out of his habitual set
taciturnity; but even as he looked the light that might have
been amaze and joy faded out of his face, leaving it the same
old mask. Still Duane had seen enough. Like a bloodhound he had
a scent.
"Talking about work, Laramie, who'd you say Snecker worked
for?"
"I didn't say."
"Well, say so now, can't you? Laramie, you're powerful peevish
to-day. It's that bump on your head. Who does Snecker work
for?"
"When he works at all, which sure ain't often, he rides for
Longstreth."
"Humph! Seems to me that Longstreth's the whole circus round
Fairdale. I was some sore the other day to find I was losing
good money at Longstreth's faro game. Sure if I'd won I
wouldn't have been sore--ha, ha! But I was surprised to hear
some one say Longstreth owned the Hope So joint."
"He owns considerable property hereabouts," replied Laramie,
constrainedly.
"Humph again! Laramie, like every other fellow I meet in this
town, you're afraid to open your trap about Longstreth.Get me
straight, Laramie. I don't care a damn for Colonel Mayor
Longstreth. And for cause I'd throw a gun on him just as quick
as on any rustler in Pecos."
"Talk's cheap," replied Laramie, making light of his bluster,
but the red was deeper in his face.
"Sure. I know that," Duane said. "And usually I don't talk.
Then it's not well known that Longstreth owns the Hope So?"
"Reckon it's known in Pecos, all right. But Longstreth's name
isn't connected with the Hope So. Blandy runs the place."
"That Blandy. His faro game's crooked, or I'm a locoed bronch.
Not that we don't have lots of crooked faro-dealers. A fellow
can stand for them. But Blandy's mean, back-handed, never looks
you in the eyes. That Hope So place ought to be run by a good
fellow like you, Laramie."
"Thanks," replied he; and Duane imagined his voice a little
husky. "Didn't you hear I used to run it?"
"No. Did you?" Duane said, quickly.
"I reckon. I built the place, made additions twice, owned it
for eleven years."
"Well, I'll be doggoned." It was indeed Duane's turn to be
surprised, and with the surprise came a glimmering. "I'm sorry
you're not there now. Did you sell out?"
"No. Just lost the place."
Laramie was bursting for relief now--to talk, to tell. Sympathy
had made him soft.
"It was two years ago-two years last March," he went on. "I was
in a big cattle deal with Longstreth. We got the stock--an' my
share, eighteen hundred head, was rustled off. I owed
Longstreth. He pressed me. It come to a lawsuit--an' I--was
ruined.
It hurt Duane to look at Laramie. He was white, and tears
rolled down his cheeks. Duane saw the bitterness, the defeat,
the agony of the man. He had failed to meet his obligations;
nevertheless, he had been swindled. All that he suppressed, all
that would have been passion had the man's spirit not been
broken, lay bare for Duane to see. He had now the secret of his
bitterness. But the reason he did not openlyaccuse Longstreth,
the secret of his reticence and fear--these Duane thought best
to try to learn at some later time.
"Hard luck! It certainly was tough," Duane said. "But you're a
good loser. And the wheel turns! Now, Laramie, here's what. I
need your advice. I've got a little money. But before I lose it
I want to invest some. Buy some stock, or buy an interest in
some rancher's herd. What I want you to steer me on is a good
square rancher. Or maybe a couple of ranchers, if there happen
to be two honest ones. Ha, ha! No deals with ranchers who ride
in the dark with rustlers! I've a hunch Fairdale is full of
them. Now, Laramie, you've been here for years. Sure you must
know a couple of men above suspicion."
"Thank God I do," he replied, feelingly. "Frank Morton an' Si
Zimmer, my friends an' neighbors all my prosperous days, an'
friends still. You can gamble on Frank and Si. But if you want
advice from me--don't invest money in stock now."
"Why?"
"Because any new feller buyin' stock these days will be rustled
quicker 'n he can say Jack Robinson. The pioneers, the new
cattlemen--these are easy pickin' for the rustlers. Lord knows
all the ranchers are easy enough pickin'. But the new fellers
have to learn the ropes. They don't know anythin' or anybody.
An' the old ranchers are wise an' sore. They'd fight if they--"
"What?" Duane put in, as he paused. "If they knew who was
rustling the stock?"
"Nope."
"If they had the nerve?"
"Not thet so much."
"What then? What'd make them fight?"
"A leader!"
"Howdy thar, Jim," boomed a big voice.
A man of great bulk, with a ruddy, merry face, entered the
room.
"Hello, Morton," replied Laramie. "I'd introduce you to my
guest here, but I don't know his name."
"Haw! Haw! Thet's all right. Few men out hyar go by their right
names."
"Say, Morton," put in Duane, "Laramie gave me a hunch you'd be
a good man to tie to. Now, I've a little money and before I
lose it I'd like to invest it in stock."
Morton smiled broadly.
"I'm on the square," Duane said, bluntly. "If you fellows never
size up your neighbors any better than you have sized me--well,
you won't get any richer."
It was enjoyment for Duane to make his remarks to these men
pregnant with meaning. Morton showed his pleasure, his
interest, but his faith held aloof.
"I've got some money. Will you let me in on some kind of deal?
Will you start me up as a stockman with a little herd all my
own?"
"Wal, stranger, to come out flat-footed, you'd be foolish to
buy cattle now. I don't want to take your money an' see you
lose out. Better go back across the Pecos where the rustlers
ain't so strong. I haven't had more'n twenty-five hundred herd
of stock for ten years. The rustlers let me hang on to a
breedin' herd. Kind of them, ain't it?"
"Sort of kind. All I hear is rustlers, Morton," replied Duane,
with impatience. "You see, I haven't ever lived long in a
rustler-run county. Who heads the gang, anyway?"
Morton looked at Duane with a curiously amused smile, then
snapped his big jaw as if to shut in impulsive words.
"Look here, Morton. It stands to reason, no matter how strong
these rustlers are, how hidden their work, however involved
with supposedly honest men--they CAN"T last."
"They come with the pioneers, an' they'll last till thar's a
single steer left," he declared.
"Well, if you take that view of circumstances I just figure you
as one of the rustlers""
Morton looked as if he were about to brain Duane with the butt
of his whip. His anger flashed by then, evidently as unworthy
of him, and, something striking him as funny, he boomed out a
laugh.
"It's not so funny," Duane went on. "If you're going to pretend
a yellow streak, what else will I think?"
"Pretend?" he repeated.
"Sure. I know men of nerve. And here they're not any different
from those in other places. I say if you show anything like a
lack of sand it's all bluff. By nature you've got nerve. There
are a lot of men around Fairdale who're afraid of their
shadows--afraid to be out after dark--afraid to open their
mouths. But you're not one. So I say if you claim these
rustlers will last you're pretending lack of nerve just to help
never prevent another arrest."
Longstreth sat white with working jaw.
"Longstreth, you've shown your hand," said Duane, in a voice
that carried far and held those who heard. "Any honest citizen
of Fairdale can now see what's plain--yours is a damn poor
hand! You're going to hear me call a spade a spade. In the two
years you've been Mayor you've never arrested one rustler.
Strange, when Fairdale's a nest for rustlers! You've never sent
a prisoner to Del Rio, let alone to Austin. You have no jail.
There have been nine murders during your office--innumerable
street-fights and holdups. Not one arrest! But you have ordered
arrests for trivial offenses, and have punished these out of
all proportion. There have been lawsuits in your court-suits
over water-rights, cattle deals, property lines. Strange how in
these lawsuits you or Lawson or other men close to you were
always involved! Strange how it seems the law was stretched to
favor your interest!"
Duane paused in his cold, ringing speech. In the silence, both
outside and inside the hall, could be heard the deep breathing
of agitated men. Longstreth was indeed a study. Yet did he
betray anything but rage at this interloper?
"Longstreth, here's plain talk for you and Fairdale," went on
Duane. "I don't accuse you and your court of dishonesty. I say
STRANGE! Law here has been a farce. The motive behind all this
laxity isn't plain to me--yet. But I call your hand!"
CHAPTER XVII
Duane left the hall, elbowed his way through the crowd, and
went down the street. He was certain that on the faces of some
men he had seen ill-concealed wonder and satisfaction. He had
struck some kind of a hot trait, and he meant to see where it
led. It was by no means unlikely that Cheseldine might be at
the other end. Duane controlled a mounting eagerness. But ever
and anon it was shot through with a remembrance of Ray
Longstreth. He suspected her father of being not what he
pretended. He might, very probably would, bring sorrow and
shame to this young woman. The thought made him smart with
pain. She began to haunt him, and then he was thinking more of
her beauty and sweetness than of the disgrace he might bring
upon her. Some strange emotion, long locked inside Duane's
heart, knocked to be heard, to be let out. He was troubled.
Upon returning to the inn he found Laramie there, apparently
none the worse for his injury.
"How are you, Laramie?" he asked.
"Reckon I'm feelin' as well as could be expected," replied
Laramie. His head was circled by a bandage that did not conceal
the lump where he had been struck. He looked pale, but was
bright enough.
"That was a good crack Snecker gave you," remarked Duane.
"I ain't accusin' Bo," remonstrated Laramie, with eyes that
made Duane thoughtful.
"Well, I accuse him. I caught him--took him to Longstreth's
court. But they let him go."
Laramie appeared to be agitated by this intimation of
friendship.
"See here, Laramie," went on Duane, "in some parts of Texas
it's policy to be close-mouthed. Policy and health-preserving!
Between ourselves, I want you to know I lean on your side of
the fence."
Laramie gave a quick start. Presently Duane turned and frankly
met his gaze. He had startled Laramie out of his habitual set
taciturnity; but even as he looked the light that might have
been amaze and joy faded out of his face, leaving it the same
old mask. Still Duane had seen enough. Like a bloodhound he had
a scent.
"Talking about work, Laramie, who'd you say Snecker worked
for?"
"I didn't say."
"Well, say so now, can't you? Laramie, you're powerful peevish
to-day. It's that bump on your head. Who does Snecker work
for?"
"When he works at all, which sure ain't often, he rides for
Longstreth."
"Humph! Seems to me that Longstreth's the whole circus round
Fairdale. I was some sore the other day to find I was losing
good money at Longstreth's faro game. Sure if I'd won I
wouldn't have been sore--ha, ha! But I was surprised to hear
some one say Longstreth owned the Hope So joint."
"He owns considerable property hereabouts," replied Laramie,
constrainedly.
"Humph again! Laramie, like every other fellow I meet in this
town, you're afraid to open your trap about Longstreth.Get me
straight, Laramie. I don't care a damn for Colonel Mayor
Longstreth. And for cause I'd throw a gun on him just as quick
as on any rustler in Pecos."
"Talk's cheap," replied Laramie, making light of his bluster,
but the red was deeper in his face.
"Sure. I know that," Duane said. "And usually I don't talk.
Then it's not well known that Longstreth owns the Hope So?"
"Reckon it's known in Pecos, all right. But Longstreth's name
isn't connected with the Hope So. Blandy runs the place."
"That Blandy. His faro game's crooked, or I'm a locoed bronch.
Not that we don't have lots of crooked faro-dealers. A fellow
can stand for them. But Blandy's mean, back-handed, never looks
you in the eyes. That Hope So place ought to be run by a good
fellow like you, Laramie."
"Thanks," replied he; and Duane imagined his voice a little
husky. "Didn't you hear I used to run it?"
"No. Did you?" Duane said, quickly.
"I reckon. I built the place, made additions twice, owned it
for eleven years."
"Well, I'll be doggoned." It was indeed Duane's turn to be
surprised, and with the surprise came a glimmering. "I'm sorry
you're not there now. Did you sell out?"
"No. Just lost the place."
Laramie was bursting for relief now--to talk, to tell. Sympathy
had made him soft.
"It was two years ago-two years last March," he went on. "I was
in a big cattle deal with Longstreth. We got the stock--an' my
share, eighteen hundred head, was rustled off. I owed
Longstreth. He pressed me. It come to a lawsuit--an' I--was
ruined.
It hurt Duane to look at Laramie. He was white, and tears
rolled down his cheeks. Duane saw the bitterness, the defeat,
the agony of the man. He had failed to meet his obligations;
nevertheless, he had been swindled. All that he suppressed, all
that would have been passion had the man's spirit not been
broken, lay bare for Duane to see. He had now the secret of his
bitterness. But the reason he did not openlyaccuse Longstreth,
the secret of his reticence and fear--these Duane thought best
to try to learn at some later time.
"Hard luck! It certainly was tough," Duane said. "But you're a
good loser. And the wheel turns! Now, Laramie, here's what. I
need your advice. I've got a little money. But before I lose it
I want to invest some. Buy some stock, or buy an interest in
some rancher's herd. What I want you to steer me on is a good
square rancher. Or maybe a couple of ranchers, if there happen
to be two honest ones. Ha, ha! No deals with ranchers who ride
in the dark with rustlers! I've a hunch Fairdale is full of
them. Now, Laramie, you've been here for years. Sure you must
know a couple of men above suspicion."
"Thank God I do," he replied, feelingly. "Frank Morton an' Si
Zimmer, my friends an' neighbors all my prosperous days, an'
friends still. You can gamble on Frank and Si. But if you want
advice from me--don't invest money in stock now."
"Why?"
"Because any new feller buyin' stock these days will be rustled
quicker 'n he can say Jack Robinson. The pioneers, the new
cattlemen--these are easy pickin' for the rustlers. Lord knows
all the ranchers are easy enough pickin'. But the new fellers
have to learn the ropes. They don't know anythin' or anybody.
An' the old ranchers are wise an' sore. They'd fight if they--"
"What?" Duane put in, as he paused. "If they knew who was
rustling the stock?"
"Nope."
"If they had the nerve?"
"Not thet so much."
"What then? What'd make them fight?"
"A leader!"
"Howdy thar, Jim," boomed a big voice.
A man of great bulk, with a ruddy, merry face, entered the
room.
"Hello, Morton," replied Laramie. "I'd introduce you to my
guest here, but I don't know his name."
"Haw! Haw! Thet's all right. Few men out hyar go by their right
names."
"Say, Morton," put in Duane, "Laramie gave me a hunch you'd be
a good man to tie to. Now, I've a little money and before I
lose it I'd like to invest it in stock."
Morton smiled broadly.
"I'm on the square," Duane said, bluntly. "If you fellows never
size up your neighbors any better than you have sized me--well,
you won't get any richer."
It was enjoyment for Duane to make his remarks to these men
pregnant with meaning. Morton showed his pleasure, his
interest, but his faith held aloof.
"I've got some money. Will you let me in on some kind of deal?
Will you start me up as a stockman with a little herd all my
own?"
"Wal, stranger, to come out flat-footed, you'd be foolish to
buy cattle now. I don't want to take your money an' see you
lose out. Better go back across the Pecos where the rustlers
ain't so strong. I haven't had more'n twenty-five hundred herd
of stock for ten years. The rustlers let me hang on to a
breedin' herd. Kind of them, ain't it?"
"Sort of kind. All I hear is rustlers, Morton," replied Duane,
with impatience. "You see, I haven't ever lived long in a
rustler-run county. Who heads the gang, anyway?"
Morton looked at Duane with a curiously amused smile, then
snapped his big jaw as if to shut in impulsive words.
"Look here, Morton. It stands to reason, no matter how strong
these rustlers are, how hidden their work, however involved
with supposedly honest men--they CAN"T last."
"They come with the pioneers, an' they'll last till thar's a
single steer left," he declared.
"Well, if you take that view of circumstances I just figure you
as one of the rustlers""
Morton looked as if he were about to brain Duane with the butt
of his whip. His anger flashed by then, evidently as unworthy
of him, and, something striking him as funny, he boomed out a
laugh.
"It's not so funny," Duane went on. "If you're going to pretend
a yellow streak, what else will I think?"
"Pretend?" he repeated.
"Sure. I know men of nerve. And here they're not any different
from those in other places. I say if you show anything like a
lack of sand it's all bluff. By nature you've got nerve. There
are a lot of men around Fairdale who're afraid of their
shadows--afraid to be out after dark--afraid to open their
mouths. But you're not one. So I say if you claim these
rustlers will last you're pretending lack of nerve just to help
- working [´wə:kiŋ]
a.工人的；劳动的 (初中英语单词) - proportion [prə´pɔ:ʃən] n.比率 vt.使成比例 (初中英语单词)
- accuse [ə´kju:z] vt.谴责；控告，告发 (初中英语单词)
- motive [´məutiv] n.动机；主题 a.运动的 (初中英语单词)
- satisfaction [,sætis´fækʃən] n.满意；满足 (初中英语单词)
- disgrace [dis´greis] n.耻辱 vt.玷辱；贬黜 (初中英语单词)
- emotion [i´məuʃən] n.感情；情绪；激动 (初中英语单词)
- presently [´prezəntli] ad.不久；目前 (初中英语单词)
- considerable [kən´sidərəbəl] a.重要的；值得重视 (初中英语单词)
- reckon [´rekən] v.计算；认为；估计 (初中英语单词)
- relief [ri´li:f] n.救济；援救；减轻 (初中英语单词)
- passion [´pæʃən] n.激情；激怒；恋爱 (初中英语单词)
- invest [in´vest] v.投资；授予 (初中英语单词)
- prosperous [´prɔspərəs] a.繁荣的；顺利的 (初中英语单词)
- curiously [´kjuəriəsli] ad.好奇地；稀奇古怪地 (初中英语单词)
- hidden [´hid(ə)n] hide 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- evidently [´evidəntli] ad.明显地 (初中英语单词)
- striking [´straikiŋ] a.显著的，明显的 (初中英语单词)
- eagerness [´i:gənis] n.渴望；热忱 (高中英语单词)
- remembrance [ri´membrəns] n.记忆(力)；回忆 (高中英语单词)
- sweetness [´swi:tnis] n.甜蜜；芳香；亲切 (高中英语单词)
- bandage [´bændidʒ] n.绷带 vt.用绷带包扎 (高中英语单词)
- circus [´sə:kəs] n.马戏(团)；圆形广场 (高中英语单词)
- colonel [´kə:nəl] n.海(陆)军上校 (高中英语单词)
- crooked [´krukid] a.弯曲的；畸形的 (高中英语单词)
- bitterness [´bitənis] n.苦味；辛酸；苦难 (高中英语单词)
- openly [´əupənli] ad.公开地；直率地 (高中英语单词)
- gamble [´gæmbəl] v.&n.赌博；投机；冒险 (高中英语单词)
- enjoyment [in´dʒɔimənt] n.享受；愉快；乐趣 (高中英语单词)
- streak [stri:k] n.纹理 v.用线条(条纹) (高中英语单词)
- trivial [´triviəl] a.琐碎的；不重要的 (英语四级单词)
- policy [´pɔlisi] n.政策；权谋；保险单 (英语四级单词)
- impatience [im´peiʃəns] n.不耐烦，急躁 (英语四级单词)
- unlikely [ʌn´laikli] a.不像的；未必可能的 (英语六级单词)
- habitual [hə´bitʃuəl] a.习惯的，通常的 (英语六级单词)
- bluntly [´blʌntli] ad.钝，迟钝地；直率地 (英语六级单词)
- impulsive [im´pʌlsiv] a.易冲动的 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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