 20 Fluff and Blackbill Fluff and Blackbill were quarreling. Elmer, while Norton and Virginia were on their way from San Juan to Los Astralis, had dropped in at the hotel to see sister. He found upon her office table the card which she always left for him. This merely informed him that she was out on a case at Los Astralis. Elmer had come for her purposing to suggest a call upon the Ingalls, for not yet had he summoned the hardy-hood to present himself alone at Flory's home. Now disgruntled, seeing plainly that Virginia would never get back in time, he went out to the veranda and took solace from the pipe to which he had grown fairly accustomed. To him came the girl of whom he was thinking. "'Hello, Fluff,' he said from the shadows. "'Hello, Blackbill,' she greeted him. "'Where's Vergy?' "'Gone,' he informed her, waving his pipe. "'On a case to Los Astralis, I'm waiting for her. Did you want to see her?' Flory came down the veranda to him and giggled. "'No,' she said flippantly. "'I'm looking for the Emperor of China. I never was so lonesome.' "'Show my,' said Elmer. He pushed his chair forward with his foot. "'Sit down, and we'll wait for her. And I'll go in and bring out a couple of bottles of ginger ale or something. Will she be back real soon?' asked Flory, pretending to hesitate. "'Sure,' he assured her positively. "'All right, then.' Flory, with a great rustling of skirts, sat down. "'But you must be nice to me, Blackbill.' "'It's always you who starts it,' muttered at her. "'I'd be friends, if you would. What's the good of spanning like two kids anyway?' "'Well, really not kids any longer, are we?' she agreed demirally. "'I feel terribly grown up sometimes, don't you?' From which point they got along swimmingly for perhaps five minutes longer than it had ever been possible for them to talk together without starting something. Elmer very emphatic in his own mind, showing his matured status, yearned for her to understand it as he did, with such purpose clearly before him and before her too, for that matter, since Miss Flory had a keen little comprehension of her own. He spoke largely of himself and his blossoming plans. He was of a carol. To begin with, he had ridden fifty miles yesterday on range business. He was making money. He was putting part of that money away in Mr. Engle's bank. There was a little ranch on the rim of Engle's big-holding, which belonged to an old half-breed Elmer, meant to acquire it himself, one of these days, and before so very long too Mr. Engle had been approached and was looking into it, might be persuaded to advance the couple of thousand dollars for the property taking as security a mortgage until Elmer could have squared for it. Then, Blackbill would begin stocking his place, a cow now, a horse, another cow, and so on. He had launched himself valiantly into his tale, but at a certain point he began to swallow and catch at his words and smoke fast between sentences. He had located a dandy spot for a house, the jolliest old spring of cold water he ever saw, a knoll with big trees upon it. We'll make up a party with Virginia Norton some day and right out there, he said abruptly. I'd like to have you see it, Fluff. She was tremendously delighted. She sensed the nearest thing to an out-and-out proposal which had ever sung in her ears. She leaned forward eagerly, her hands clasped, to keep them from trembling. She was sixteen, he eighteen, and she had his assurance of a moment ago that they were no longer just kids. And then and there, so long delayed quarrel began, just at the wrong time after the time honored fashion of quarrels. He was ready to twine the vine about the veranda post of the house on the knoll, where the spring and the big trees were. She was ready to plant the fig tree. Then she had glimpsed something just too funny for anything in the idea of Elmer raising pigs. For he had gone on to that, sagely anticipating a high market another season, and she laughed at him, and all unintentionally wounded his feelings. In a flash he was blackbill again and on his metal, ready for the quick retorts stung from him, and she, parrying his thrust, was at once Fluff the mercuric the spat was on. They would call it a spat tomorrow if tomorrow were kind to them, and Elmer's ranch house and cow, all horse and pigs were laughed to scorn. Flory departed, leaving her cruelest laughter to ring in his ears. This might have been a repetition of any one of a dozen episodes familiar to them both, but never perhaps had Elmer's ears burned so or Flory's heart so disturbed her with its beating, for she thought regretfully as she hurried out into the street. They had been getting along so nicely. She had no business out alone at this time of night, and she knew it. So she hurried on, anxious to get home before her father, who was returning late from a visit to one of his ranches. A breast of the Casablanca she slowed up, looking in curiously. Then, as again, she was hastening on. She heard Jim Galloway's deep voice in a quiet, Good evening, Miss Florence. Good evening! gas Flory allowed, and, oh! said Flory under her breath, for Galloway's figure had separated itself from the shadows at the side of his open door, and had come out into the street, while Galloway was saying, in a matter-of-fact way, I'll see you home. She wanted to run and could not. She hung a moment balancing upon a high heel of indecision. Galloway stepped forward swiftly, coming to her side. Oh, dear! the inner Flory was saying. A glance over her shoulder showed her black bill standing out in front of Strav's hotel. Well, there were compensations. She started to hurry on, and had Jim Galloway been less sure of himself, troubled with the difference of youth as was Elmer. He must have either given over his purpose or else fairly run to keep up with her. But, being Jim Galloway, he laid a gentle, but nonetheless restraining hand upon her arm. Please, he said quietly, I want to talk with you. May I? His arm burned where he had touched her. She was all in a flutter, half frightened, and the other half flattered. A shade more leisurely, they walked on toward the cotton-woods. Here in the shadows Galloway stopped and Flory, although beginning to tremble, stopped with him. Men have given me a black name here. He was saying as he faced her. They've made me somewhat worse than I am. I feel that I have few friends, certainly very few of my own class. I like to think of you as a friend. May I? It was distinctly pleasant to have a big man like Galloway a man, whom for good or for bad the whole state knew pleading with her. It gave a new sort of assurance to her theory that she was grown up. It added to her importance in her own eyes. Why, yes, said Flory. I am going away, he continued gravely, for just how long I don't know a week, perhaps a month, maybe longer. It is a business matter of considerable importance, Florence, nor is it entirely without danger. It will take me down below the border, and an American in Mexico right now takes his life entirely into his own hands. You know that, don't you? Then why do you go? Galloway smiled down on her. If I held back every time a danger signal was thrown out, he said slightly. I wouldn't travel very far, or I'll come back all right. A man may go through fire itself and return if he has the incentive which I have. His tone altered subtly. Flory started. But before I go, went on Galloway. I am going to tell you something which I think you already know. You do, don't you, Florence? She would not have been Flory at all, but some very different, romantic, and unimaginative creature had she failed of comprehension. Jim Galloway was actually making love to her. What do you mean, Mr. Galloway? She managed the stammer. I mean that what I am telling you is for your ears alone. I am placing a confidence in you. The greatest confidence a man can place in a girl, or a woman, Florence. I am trusting that what I say will remain just between you and me for the present. When I come back, I will be no longer just Jim Galloway of the Casablanca, but Galloway of one of the biggest grants in Mexico, with mile after mile of fertile lands, with a small army of servants, vacarros, and retainers, a sort of ruler of my own state. It sounds like a fairytale, Florence, but it is the sober truth made possible by conditions below the border. Maya states will run down to the blue water of the gulf. I shall have my own fleet of ocean-going yachts. There is a port upon my own land. There will be a home overlooking the seas like a king's palace. Will you think of all that while I am gone? Will you think of me a little too? Will you remember that my little kingdom is crying out for its queen? No, I am not asking you to answer me now. I'm just asking that you hold this as our secret until I come back. Until I come back for you. I shall stand here until you reach your home, he broke off suddenly. Good night, my dear. Good night, said Florence faintly, a little dazed by all that he had said to her. Then, running through the shadows to her home, she was thinking of the boy who had wished to propose to her and the man who had just done so. Of Elmer's little home upon the knoll surrounded by a cow, a horse, some pigs, and of a big house like a palace, looking out to see across the swaying mass the white-sailed sea-going yachts. Three hundred and sixty days or more of the average year, each individual has before him scores of avenues open to his thoughts or to his act. He may turn, wheresoever he will. But in the supreme moments of his life, with brief time for hesitation granted him, he may be forced to do one of two things. He must leap back or plunge forward, to escape the destiny rushing down upon him like a speeding engine, threatening him who has come to stand upon the crossing. Now Virginia saw clearly that she must submit to Norton's mastery and remain silent in the king's palace, or she must seek to escape and tell what she knew or was there a remaining alternative? If so, it must present itself as clearly as the others. Action was stripped down to essential, bared to its component elements. True vision must necessarily result, since no side issues cluttered the view. She sat upon the saddle-blanket upon the rock floor of the main chamber of the series of ancient dwelling rooms, staring at the fire which Norton had built against a wall where it might not be seen from without. The horses were in the meadow down by the stream. She and Norton had tethered them among the trees, where they were fairly free from the chance of being seen. Norton was coming up, mounting the deep-worn steps of the cliffside. He had gone for water. He had not been out of sight. Nor away five minutes, and yet when she looked up to see him coming through the irregular doorway, she had decided. She saw him both the man and the gentleman. Her anger had died down long ago. Smothered in the ashes of her distress, now she summoned to the fore all that she might in extenuation of what he did. She did not blame him for the crimes which she knew he had committed because she was so confident that the chief crime of all had been the act resulting from Caleb Padden's abysmal ignorance. Nor now could she blame Norton that embarked upon this flood of his life he saw himself forced to make her his prisoner for a few hours. It was a man's birthright to protect himself, to guard his freedom, and her heart gave him high praise that toward her he acted with all deference. That with things as they were while he was man enough to hold her here, he was too much the gentleman to make love to her. Would she have resisted? Would she have posed calm argument against a hot avowal? She did not know. Virginia, he said gravely as he slumped down upon the far side of the fire. I feel a brute, but yes she had decided, fully decided, whether if be for better or for worse. Now she surprised him with one of her quick, bright, friendly smiles while she interrupted. Let us make the best of a bad situation, she said swiftly. I am not unhappy right now. I have no wish to run halfway to meet any unhappiness which may be coming our way. You are not the brute toward me, what you do, I do not so much as censure you for. I am not going to quarrel with you, where I in your boots I imagine I do just exactly as you are doing. I hope I'd be as nice about it too. And now, before we drop the subject for good and all, let me say this. No matter what I do, should it even be the betraying you into the hands of your enemies? To put it quite tragically, I want you to know that I wish you well and that is why I do it. Can you understand me? Yes, he said slowly. It's sweet of you, Virginia. If you got my gun and shot my head off, I don't know who should blame you. I shouldn't. He concluded with a forced attempt to match your smile. Then we understand each other, as long as each does the best he can, see his way to do. The other finds no fault. And when he nodded, she rose quickly and came to him, putting out her hand as he rose. Ron Norton, she said simply in her eyes, shown steady and clear into his, I wish you the best there is. I think we should both pray a little to God to help us tonight. And now, if you will, run up to your treasure chamber and bring down the coffee. I promise, I'll be here when you get back. And to make you a good hot drink, I feel the need of it. And so do you. He went out without an answer, his face grave and troubled again. As her eyes followed him, there he were no longer grave but wistful, and then filled with a sadness which she had not shown to him and then suddenly wet. But before he had gone half a dozen steps from the door, she dashed a hasty hand across her eyes and went swiftly to the smallest of the three black leather cases he had brought up here after her. This is one way out, Ron Norton, she whispered, the one way out if God is with us. Her quick fingers sought and found the tiny pheryl, with its small white tablets labeled hyacine, and secreted in her bosom. She was laying fresh twigs upon the blaze when he came back with a coffee pot, can of coffee, and a tin cup. She greeted him with another quick smile. He saw that her cheeks were flushed rosy, that there was subdued excitement in her eyes, and yet matters just as they were would sufficiently explain these phenomena, without causing him to quest further. He thought merely that he had never seen her so delightfully pretty. Virginia Page He told her as his own eyes grew bright, with the new light leaping up into them. Some day, shh, she commanded, her color deepened. Let us wait till the day comes. Now, you just obey orders, lie there and smoke while I make the coffee. He wanted to wait on her, but when she insisted he withdrew to the wall a few feet away and sat down, filled his pipe, and watched her, and while he filled his eyes with her he marbled afresh, for it seemed to him that her mood was one of unqualified happiness. She did all of the talking, her words came in a ceaseless, bright flow. She laughed readily, and often her eyes were dancing, the warm color stood high in her cheeks, that her heart was beating like mad, that the intoxication of an intent he could not read had swept into her brain, that she was vastly more in the mood to weep than to smile. All of this lay hidden through him behind her woman's wit. For having decided there would be no going back. With the coffee boiling in the old black and spotless pot from Norton's case, in the treasure chamber she poured what was left of the ground coffee from its tin to the flat surface of a bit of stone. This tin was to serve Norton as his cup. Just to be her nightcap, she laughed at him as she put the improvised cup by the other. I refused to sit up any later, a saddle blanket for a bunk, and then to sleep. That is my room yonder, isn't it? She nodded toward the blank entrance of the second of the chambers of the King's Palace. And you will sleep here. Well, while the coffee cools, I'm going to make my bed. She carried her blanket on past him. Was gone into the yawning darkness, was back in a moment. My bed's ready, she told him gaily. This kind of housekeeping just suits me. Now for the coffee. Rod Norton, will you do as you were told or not? You are to sit still and let me wait on you. Whose host is here? I'd like to know. While out of his sight she had slipped one of the Hyocene tablets into her palm. Now, as she poured the ink-black beverage, she let it drop into the tin can, which she presented to Norton. Don't say it doesn't taste right. She admonished him in a voice in which, at last, he detected the nervous note. He stood up, holding his coffee can in his hand, meeting her strained levity with deep gravity. Virginia, he began. It's too late to cut it on my monologue, she cried gaily. Pledge me in the drink I have made for you, Mr. Norton. Just say, Virginia, you're looking at you. Or I wish you well in all you undertake, or for all that you have said to me, or whatever you may say or do in the future. I forgive you. That's all. Virginia, he said gently. I love you, my dear. She laughed nervously. That's the nice way to say everything all at once. You saw that her hand shook, that a little of her coffee spilled, and that again she grew steady. Now her night kept, and good night. She drank hurriedly thereafter. She yawned and made her little pretence of increased drowsiness. It's been such a long day, she said. You'll forgive me if I tumble right straight into my sleepy land? Again they said good night, and she left him, going down among the eerie dancing shadows to her own quarter, drawing his moody eyes after her. When she had gone he threw down his own blanket across the main entrance of the king's palace, filled his pipe again, and sat staring out into the night. The fire cast up its red flair espasmatically, licked at the last of the dead branches which, rolling apart, burned out upon the rock floor. The darkness, once more blotted out all details saving the few smoldering coals, the knobs of stone and the small flickering circles of light, the quiet form of the man silhouetted against the lesser dark of the night without Virginia, rigid and motionless, at the spot to which she had stolen noiselessly, watched him breathlessly. For only a little he sat smoking, then as though he experienced something of the weariness of which she had made a pretence, he laid his pipe aside and stretched out upon his blanket. Lining upon an elbow, she heard him sigh vaguely made out when he let his head slip down upon an arm, saw that he had grown still and was lying stretched out across the main threshold. Now she must stand motionless while every fiber of her being demanded action. Now she must curve impetuosity to the call of caution. As the seconds passed, all but insupportable in their tedious slowness, she stood rigid and tense, waiting. But soon she knew that the drughead had its will with him, that he was steeped in deep sleep, that no longer must she wait, that now at length she might act. Carrying her saddle-blanket, she came to him and stood quietly looking down upon his upturned face. At last she could let the tears burst into her eyes unchecked. Now she could suddenly go down on her knees beside him, for an instant laying her cheek lightly against his in the first caress. Would it be the last? He stirred a little inside again, she drew back, still upon her knees again breathlessly rigid, but his stupor clung heavily to him, and she knew that it would hold him thus for hours. A score of burning questions, clamoring in her mind. She disposed up briefly, since time was of the essence. If I let you have your way, Rod Norton, she whispered, You will go on from crime to tragedy. If I hand you over to the law, I will be betraying you for no end. For your type of man finds a way to break jail, and so force his own hand of further violence. There is the one way out, and God help me to succeed. God forgive me if I fail. She stole by him and stepped upon the outer ledge. She was leaving him helpless. The thought presented itself that she would have another thing to answer for, if one of the many men was such cause to hate him, should come upon him thus. Well, that was but one of the more remote chances she must take. There was scant enough likelihood that any one should come here before she could race into Las Australis and back. Then it was that she saw Patton. She did not know at first that it was Patton, but just that within a few feet of her upon the ledge which she must travel to the steps a man was standing, his body jerking back pressed against the rocks as he saw her. She drew back swiftly, her blood in riotous tumult. But now, above ought else, the one thought in her mind was that there was no time for luring, that the dawn would come to all soon, that there must be no delay. She stooped quickly and drew from its holster Norton's heavy revolver. Her saddle-blanket over her left arm, the gun gripped in her right hand. She was once more upon the ledge, moving cautiously towards the figure, seen a moment ago, gone now. That it was Patton, she knew only when she had gone down the steps and had overtaken him there. Retreating thus far, reassured when he had made out that it was the girl alone, he waited for her. And as she demanded nervously, whizzit! It was Patton's disagreeable laugh which answered her. Oh! he jeered at her. This is the sort of thing you do when you are supposed to be out on a case all night. Patton here had God sent him, or the devil. His insult she passed over. She was not thinking of herself right now, of convention, of wagging tongues. She was just seeking to understand how this latest incident might simplify or make more complex her problem. I've had my suspicions all along, he laughed evilly. Tonight I followed and made sure, and now my fine little white dove, what have you to say for yourself? Might she use Patton? She was but now on her way to Los Estralos for aid. She would operate herself. She would take up that upon herself, with no more regard for ethics than for Patton's gossiping tongue. She believed that she could do it successfully. At the least, she must make the attempt, though Norton died under her hand. The right. She had the right. The right because she loved him, because he loved her, because this whole future was at stake. But she must have assistance, so that she submit him to no needless danger, so that she give him every chance under such circumstances as these. She would have brought a man from Los Estralos. She would have let him think what pleased him, just saying that Norton had met with an accident, that an operation was necessary. And now Patton was here. Could she use him? You followed us, she said, gaining time for her thoughts. Yes, I followed you. I saw you come here. I watched while he unsettled how he came up to you. What I could not see through the rock walls, I could guess. And now... Well, now, she repeated after him, so that Patton must have marbled at her lack of emotion. Now what? Now, he spat at her venomously. I think I have found the fact to shut Roderick Norton's blabbing mouth for him. I don't understand. You don't. You mean that he hasn't done any talking to you about me? Oh, and now she suddenly did understand. You mean how you are not Callip Patton at all, but Charles? How you are no physician, but liable to prosecution for illegal practicing? She could use him, or she could not. That was what she was thinking, over and over. Where is he? demanded Patton a little suspiciously. What is he doing? What are you doing out here alone? He's asleep, she told him. Patton laughed again. Your little parties are growing commonplace then. Charles Patton, she cut in coldly. I have stood enough of your insult. Be still a moment and let me think. He stared at her for a little, his own mind busy with silent. Could she make use of this blind instrument which fate had thrust into her hand? She began to believe that she could. Charles Patton. She went on, a new vigor in her tone. Mr. Norton knows enough concerning you to make you a deal of trouble. Just how long a term in the state prison he can get for you. I don't know but... Haven't I found a way to shut his mouth? He said sharply. I think not. Before your slanders could travel far, we could have found Father Jose and have been married. But let me finish. You have practiced here for upward of two years, haven't you? You've made money. You have a ranch of your own. That is one thing to keep in mind. The other is that more than one of your patients have died. I believe Charles Patton that it would be a simple matter to have the District Attorney convict you of murder. That's the second thing to remember. Patton shifted uneasily. Then she knew that it had been God who had sent him. When he sought to bluster, she cut him short. In the morning, as soon as there is light enough, she said, wondering at her own calmness, I am going to perform a capital operation upon Mr. Norton. It will be without his knowledge and consent. If he lives and you will give up your practice and retire to your ranch or what business pleases you, I will guarantee that he does not prosecute you for what has passed. If he dies, if he dies, he snatched the word from her, it will be murder. You would be free from prosecution, she continued, quite as though he had made no interruption. I rather imagine that I should die too, and as you say, I would be liable for murder. He is asleep now because I have drugged him. I shall chloroform him before he wakes. I should have no defense in the law courts. Yes, it would be murder. He drew a step back from her, as though from one suddenly gone mad. What are you operating for? he demanded. For your blunder, she said simply, and you are going to help me. I am, he jeered. Not by a damn sight if you think I am going to let myself in for that sort of thing. Until now he had not seen the gun in her hand, her quick jester showed it to him. Charles Patton, she told him emphatically, I am risking Mr. Norton's life. I am therefore risking my own. Understand what that means. Understand just what you have got to win or lose by tonight's work. Consider that I pledge you, my word, not to implicate you in what you do, that if worse came to worse, you could claim, and I would admit, that you were forced at the point of a gun to do as I told you. Oh, I can shoot straight, and finally, I will shoot straight as God watches me rather than let you go now and stop what I have undertaken. Think of it well, Charles Patton. Patton being as weak of mind as he was pudgy of hand, having besides that peculiar form of craft, which has vouchhaped his type. Furthermore, more or less of a coward, saw matters quite as Virginia wished him. Together they awaited the coming of dawn, the girl realizing, do the uttermost what lay before her, forced herself to rest, lying still under the scars, schooling herself to the steady-nerved action which was to have its supreme test. Just before dawn, they had coffee and a bite to eat from Norton's little pack. Close to the drug man, they built a rude, low table by dragging the squared blocks of fallen stone from their place by the wall. Upon this, Virginia placed the saddle-blankets, neatly folded. Already Patton was showing signs of nervousness, looking into her face, he saw that it was white and drawn, but very calm. Patton was asking himself countless questions, many of them impossible of answer yet. She was closing her mind to everything but the one supreme matter. He helped her give the chloroform when she told him that there was sufficient light and that she was ready. He brought water, placed instruments, stood by to do what she told him. His nervousness had grown into fear. He started now and then jerking about guiltily, as though he foresaw an interruption. Together they got Norton's inert form upon the folded blankets. Patton's hands shook a little. He asked for a sip of brandy from her flask. She granted it. And while Patton drank, she cut away the hair from the unconscious man's scalp. Long ago her fingers had made their examination. We're assured that her diagnosis was correct. Her hands were as untrembling as the steel of her knife. She made the first incision, drawing back the flap of skin and flesh, revealing the bone of the skull. It was forty-five minutes she worked. Her hands swift, sure capable on airing. It was done. She was right. The under-table of the skull had been fractured. There was the bone pressure upon the underlying area of brain tissue. She had removed the pressure and with any true pathological cause of the theft impulse. She drew a bandage about the sleeping eyes. She made Patton bring his own saddle-blanket. It was fixed across the entrance of the anti-room of the King's Palace darkening it. Then she went to the ledge just outside and stood there, staring with wide eyes across the little meadow with his flowers and birds and water, down the slope of the mountain, to the miles of desert. She had now but to await the awakening. End of Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two of the Bells of San Juan Mr. Bravac's recording is in the public domain. The Bells of San Juan by Jackson Gregory Chapter Twenty-Two Beginning of the End When Norton stirred and would have opened his eyes, but for the bandage drawn over them, she was at his side. She had been kneeling there for a long time waiting. Her hand was on his where it had crept softly from his wrist. He must lie very still. She commanded gently, I am with you and everything is all right. There was an accident. No, don't try to move the clock, please, Roderick. She pushed his hand back down into his side. We were in the King's Palace, just you and I, and everything is all right. He was feverish, and she soothed him, sick, and she mothered him and nursed him, troubled, uncertain, perplexed, and she comforted him. At the first she went no further than saying that there had been an accident, that already she had sent to San Juan for all that was needed to make him comfortable, that Mr. Engel had been instructed to speed a man to the railroad for further necessities, that now for his own sake, for her sake, he must just lie very still. Try not even to think. He was listless, seeming without volition, quite willing to surrender himself into her keeping. What day's thoughts were his upon this first awakening were lost, forgotten in a brief dose into which she succeeded into luring him. When again he stirred and woke, she was still at his side, kneeling upon the hard rock floor beside him. She had had Patton help her to lift him down from the table before she dispatched Patton with the note for John Engel. Again she pleaded with him to lie still and just trust her. He was very still. She knew that he was trying to piece together his fragmentary thoughts and impressions, seeking to bridge over from last night to today. So she talked softly with him, soothing him alike with the tenderness of her voice and the pressure and gentle stroke of her hand upon his hand and arm. He had had an accident, but was going to be all right from now on. But he must not be moved for a little. Therefore Engel would come soon and perhaps Mrs. Engel with him and a wagon bringing a real bed and fresh clean sheets and all of those articles which she had listed. It would not be very long now until Engel came. But at last when she paused his hand shut down upon hers and he asked quietly, I didn't dream at all, did I, Virginia? It is hard to know just what I did and what I dreamed I did. But it seems more than a dream. Was it I who robbed Kimball of the Quigley Mines? Yes, she told him lightly as though it were a matter of small moment. But you were not responsible for what you did. And there were other robberies. I even tried to steal from you. Yes, she answered again. And you wanted to have me submit to an operation and I would not. Yes. And then? Then you did it. So she explained, feeling that certainly would be less harmful to him now than a continual struggle to penetrate the curtain of semi-darkness obscuring his memory. I took it upon myself. She told him at the end. I took the chance that you might die, that it might be I who had killed you. Perhaps I had no right to do it, but I have succeeded. I have drawn you back from kleptomania to your own clear moral strength. You will get well, Rod Dorton. You will be an honest man. But I took it upon myself to take the chances for you. Do you think that you can forgive me? He appeared to be pondering the matter when his reply came it was couched in the form of a question. Would you have done it, Virginia? If you didn't love me a little as I love you? And her answer comforted him. He was sleeping when the Ingalls came. Later came the big wagon, one of Ingalls' men driving Ignacio Chavez and two other Mexicans accompanying on horseback. Virginia had forgotten nothing. Quick hands did her bidding now. Altering the enter room of the King's Palace into a big, airy bedroom, there was a great rug upon the floor, a white sheeted and counter-plane bed, fresh pajamas, table, chair, alcohol, stove, glasses and cups, and water-pitchers. There were claws for fresh bandages, wide palm leaf fans. There was even ice and the promise of further ice to come. The sun was shut out by heavy curtains across the main entrance and the broken-out holes in the easterly wall. My dear, said Mrs. Ingalls, taking both of Virginia's hands into her own. I don't know just what has happened and I don't care to know until you get good and ready to tell me about it. But I can see by looking at you that you are at the end of your tether. I'm going to take care of Roddy now while you sleep at least a couple of hours. She and Ingalls had asked themselves the question as soon as Virginia's note came to them. What in the world were she and Norton doing on the mountainside at that time of night? But they had no intention of asking it of anyone else. Rather, John Ingalls hastened to answer it for others. Machatchos, he said to the men when he sent them back to San Juan. There was an accident last night. Senior Norton had a fall from his horse, striking his head. My cousin, Miss Page, together with Senior Norton and Senior Patton, was taking a shortcut this way to make a call at Pozo. Senior Patton and Miss Page succeeded in getting Senior Norton here, where they had to operate upon him immediately. He is doing well now thanks to their prompt action. He will be well soon. He may tell his friends. And then, seeing little that he could do here and much that he might accomplish elsewhere, John Ingalls rode on his spurs back to San Juan to lay down the law to Patton. Throughout the days and nights which followed, Virginia and Mrs. Ingalls nursed Norton back to a semblance of strength. One of them was always at his side. When at last a bandage might be removed from the blindfolded eyes, Norton's questioning glance found Virginia first of all. Virginia, he said quietly, thanks to you I can start in all over now. She understood, so did Mrs. Ingalls, for Norton had explained to both the banker and his wife holding nothing back from them, telling them frankly of crimes committed of his attempted abduction of the girl who in turn had abducted him. He had restitutions to make without the least unnecessary delay. He must square himself and he thanked God that he could square himself, that his crimes had been bloodless, that he had but to return the stolen monies, and to wipe his slate clean he stood ready to pay to the full for what he had done, to offer his confession openly, to accept without a murmur whatever decree the court might award him. Again, John Ingalls did his bit. He went to the county seat and saw the district attorney an upright man, but one who saw clearly, the lawyer laid his work aside and came immediately with Ingalls to the King's Palace. Any court having full evidence, he said crisply, would hold you blameless. Give me the money you've taken and I see it is returned and that no questions are asked. And if you've got any idiotic compulsion about open confession, well think of somebody beside yourself for a change. Try thinking about the Wonder Girl a little. It will be good for you. For he never called her anything but that, the Wonder Girl, when he had heard everything, he came to her after his straightforward fashion and gripped her hand until he hurt her. I didn't know they made girls like you, he told her before she even knew who he was. It was he who, summoning all of his forensic eloquence, finally quieted Norton's disturbed mind. Norton, in his weakened condition, was all for making a clean breast before the world, for acknowledging himself unfit for his office, for resigning. But in the end, when he was told, curtly, that he owed vastly more to the county than to his stupid conscience, that he had been chosen to get Jim Galloway, that that was his job, that he could do all the resigning he wanted to afterwards and that, finally, he was not to consider his own personal feeling until he had thought of Virginias. Norton gave over his request and merely waxed impatient for the time when he could finish his work and go back to Los Flores Rancho. For it was understood that he would not go alone. I'll free Del Rio because I have to, not because I want to, said the lawyer at the end, trusting to you to bring him in again later. He is one of Galloway's crowd and I know it, despite his big bluffs. Galloway is away right now, somewhere below the border. Just what he's up to, I don't know. I think Del Rio does. When Galloway gets back, you keep your eye on the two of them. After the county attorney's departure, Rod Norton rested more easily. He was making restitution for all that he had done. He was getting well and strong again. He had been given such proof as comes to few men of the utter devotion of a woman. Through many a bright hour he in Virginia, daring to look confidently ahead, talked of life as it might be lived upon Los Flores when the lake was made, the lower lands irrigated, the big home built. And she confessed to him at the last, her face hidden against his breast. I never want to see a sergeant slancid again in all my life, Rod Norton. When at length the sheriff could bestride a horse, he wondered impatiently what it could be that kept Jim Galloway so long away, and if he was never coming back. But he knew that high up among the cliffs, hidden away in the ancient caves, Jim Galloway's rifles were still lying. CHAPTER XXXIII The Bells of San Juan This labor box recording is in the public domain. The Bells of San Juan by Jackson Gregory CHAPTER XXIII THE STRONG HAND OF GALLOWAY O you will all dance and shelf together very soon, said in actual wisely to his six bells in the old mission garden. You will see. Captain, and the dancer, and the leader, the little one, La Golirinda and Ignacio Chavez, all of you together until far out across the desert men here, for it is in the air that things will happen. And then, when it is all done, by then Amigos, who but me is going to build a little roof over you that runs down both ways to save you from the hot sun and the rains. Oh, one knows, it is in the air. You will see. For Jim Galloway had returned a new Galloway, a Galloway who carried himself up and down the street with bright, victorious eyes and the stride of full confidence who, at least in the eyes of Ignacio Chavez, was like a blood-lusting lion, screwing up his muscles to spring. Galloway's return brought to Roderick Norton a fresh vigilance to Virginia a sleepless anxiety to Florence Engle unrest, uncertainty, very near pure panic. During the first few days of his absence, she had allowed herself the romantic joy of floating unchecked upon the tide of girlish fancy, dreaming the dreams after the approved fashion which is used, dancing lightly upon foamy crests, seeing only blue water and no rocks under her. Then, with the potency of the man's character removed with the removal of his physical being, she grew to see the shoals and to draw back from them, shuddering, somewhat pleasurably. Now that he was again in San Juan and that her eyes had been held by his in the first meeting upon the street, her heart fluttered, her vision clouded. She wondered what she would do. There was to be no lost action in Galloway's campaign now. Within half a dozen hours of his arrival there was a gathering of various of his henchmen at the Casablanca. Just what passed was not to be known. It was significant, however, that among those who had come to his call were the Mexican del Rio, Antón, Kid Rickard, and a handful of the other most restless spirits of the county. Norton accepted the act in all that had implied to his suspicions and sent out word to cutter, Brocky Lane, and those of his own in Brocky's Cowboys, whom he counted on. Galloway's second step, known only to himself and Flory, was a private meeting with the banker's daughter. It occurred upon the second evening following his return, just after dark among the Cottonwoods. But a hundred yards from a home, he had made the opportunity with the dispatch which marked him now. He had watched for her during the day. It appeared merely to pass her by chance on the street, and had paused just long enough to ask her to meet him. I have done all that I plan to do. He announced triumphantly his eyes holding hers, forcing upon her spirit the mastery of his own. The power in Mexico is going to be. Francesco Villa, I have seen him. Let me talk with you tonight, Florence. History is in the making. It may be you and I together who shape the destiny of a people. After all, she was but a little over sixteen, or a head filled with the bright stuff of romance. And he was a forceful man who, for his own purposes, had long studied her. She came to the trice a bit half in trembling a dozen Tumrendous times, already for a fleeing retreat. Again, he was all deference to her. He built it cunningly upon the fact that he trusted her, that he a strong man put his faith in her, a woman. He flattered her as she had never been flattered, not too subtly, yet not so broadly as to arouse her suspicion of his intent. He spoke quietly at first, then his voice seeming changed with his leaping ambition set responsive chords within her trilling. He pictured to her the state he was going to found organized rule, an uncertain number of fair miles stretching along a tropical coast. He made her see again a palatial dwelling with servants in livery, the blue waters of the gulf, the white of dancing sails. He spoke of a peace, which was going to be declared between warring factions below the border within thirty days, of the magnificence to be Francesco Vila, of the position to be occupied by Jim Galloway at Vila's side. His planned development of a gold mine he mentioned merely casually. And then, at length, when Flory was prepared for the passionate declaration, he humbled himself at her feet, lifted his hands to her in supplication, told her in burning words of his love, whether the man did love her with all the strength of his nature or whether he but meant to strike through her at John Engle, the richest man of this section of the state, it was for Jim Galloway alone to know. Certainly not for Flory, who listened why he died. Once she thought that he was about to sweep her up into his arms, they had lifted suddenly from his sides. She had drawn back crying sharply, oh no, no, but he had waited, had again grown deeply differential, swerving immediately to further vividly colored pictures of life as it might be, of power and pomp, of a secure position from which a man and woman might direct policies of state shaping the lives of other men and women. And in the end of the ardent interview, Jim Galloway's caution was still with him. His knowledge of the girl's nature clear in his mind. He did not ask her answer. He merely saw a third opportunity to speak with her, suggesting that upon the next night she slip out and meet him. He would have a horse for her, one for himself. They could ride for a half hour. He had so much to tell her. Perhaps a much more important factor than she realized in her action was Flory's new writing habit. It had been acquired but three days before she knew very well just how she looked in it. There would be a moon almost at full, the full moon, and the new writing habit were the allies given by fate to Jim Galloway. Besides all of this, she had not seen Elmer Page for a month. Further she knew that Elmer had gone writing upon at least one occasion with a girl of Las Palmas, Superintendent Campbell's daughter. And finally there lies much rich adventure in just doing that which we know we should leave alone. So Flory, while her mother and father thought that she was gone early to bed, was on her way to meet Galloway. They rode out in the cottonwood fringe of Royo just before moonrise, circling the town. Flory, scarcely marking whether they rode north or south, but Galloway knew what he was doing. And they turned slowly toward the south west. As they rode his horse drawn in close to hers, he talked as he had never talked before. His voice rang from the first word with triumphant assurance. When he called, she will follow. Virginia had thought fearfully of them. Tonight he was calling eloquently. She was following, frightened, and yet obedient to his mastery. Galloway's influence over the girl, that of a strong will over a weakened, fluttering one, was quite naturally the stronger when they were alone together. She had always been willing, sometimes a bit eager, to make a hero of him. He had long, thoroughly understood her. Tonight was the brief battle of wills with him, summoning all of his strength. Fleshed with victory, abruptly now he urged that she marry him. A moment later, his insistence pleading was subtly tinged with a command. He was the arbitrator of the hour. He told her of a priest waiting for them at a little village a dozen miles away. They would be married tonight. They were eloping even at this palpit instant. When Florence would have stopped, of two balancing minds, he urged the horses on. When she would have procrastinated, he beat down her opposition with the rush of his words. Even while she struggled, she was yielding. Galloway was quick to see how her resistance was growing fainter. And all the time, while he spoke vehemently, and she for the most part listened in a fascinated silence, they were riding on through the moon at night. It seemed to her that surely he must love her as few men had loved before. The village he had promised her was in reality but two poor houses at a crossroads inhabited by two Mexican men and dotty women. On the way they encountered but one horseman. Galloway turned his own and Florence's animal out so that those seen they might escape recognition. At the nearest of the two hobbles he dismounted, raising his arms to her. When she cried out and shrank back trembling he laughed softly, caught her in his arms, and lifted her free of the saddle. When he would have kissed her, she put her face into her two hands. I want to go back. She whispered, I'm afraid. Please, Mr. Galloway. Please, let me go home. Dogs were barking. A man and woman came out. The man laughed. Then he gathered up the bridal reins and led the horses to the barn. Lori, shrinking out of Galloway's embrace, looked particularly little and helpless in her pretty riding habit. She went with Galloway into the lamp-lighted room. The woman looked at her curiously, then to Galloway. Something of wonder and upstanding admiration in her B.D. eyes. Has the priest come? Demand to Galloway? No, senor, not yet. She added by way of explanation that word had been sent, that the priest was delayed, a man was dying, and he must stay a little at the bedside. She muttered the tale like a child repeating a lesson. Galloway, watching Florence, who sat rigid in her chair by the table, waited for her to finish. At the end he gave the woman a sharp, significant look. She said something about a cup of coffee for this senorita, and went hastily into the kitchen. Lori sprang to her feet, her hands clasped. You must let me go, she cried wildly. The priest isn't here. I am going home. No, said Galloway steadily. You are not going home, Florence. You must listen to me. I love you more than anything else in a world, my dear. I want you. Want you all for mine. She saw a sudden light flare up in his eyes, and it seemed to her that her heart would beat through the walls of her breast. I am not a boy, but a man, a strong man, a man who, when he wants a thing, wants it with his whole heart and body and soul, a man who takes what he wants. Wait. Just listen to me. You love me now. You will love me more and more when I give you all that I have promised you. Tonight, in an hour, I will have made the beginning. I will have gathered about me fifty men who will do exactly what I tell them to do. Then they will go with us down to Mexico. They will be the beginning of a little army whose one thought will be loyalty, loyalty to you and to me. No, said Florence, her voice shaking. I am going. You will marry me when the priest comes. He cut in sternly. Otherwise, if you make me, I will take you with me anyway, unmarried. And I will make you marry me when we have crossed the border. And now, now, you will kiss me. I have waited long, Florence. He came toward her. She slipped behind the table, crying out to him to stop. But he came on, caught her, drew her into his arms, and flurry. Some new-passionate, terrified flurry beat at him with her fists, tore at him with her nails, hit her face from him, and, with the agility born of her terror, slipped away from him again. Again put the table between them. Galloway a thin line of blood across his cheek. Thrust the table aside. As he did so, the man came back into the room and stood watching, a twisted smile upon his lips. Galloway lifted his thick shoulders in a shrug and stood staring at the girl, cowering in the corner. Married or unmarried, you go with me, he told her. Your kisses you may save for me. Think it over. You had better ask for the priest when I come back. He turned toward the Mexican. Already a philist? Man, not it. Tell Castro then. It's time to be in the saddle. With no other words to flurry he went out, but his last look was for her. The look of a victor. The fiber of his body alive and eager, his blood riotous with the certain knowledge that the long delayed hour had come, rode a foam fleck horse into San Juan shortly after moonrise. Galloway was striking at last. Might Norton lift his own hand to strike back? As he flung himself down from the saddle, he was thinking almost equally of Jim Galloway, striking the supreme blow of his career, and of Billy Norton, whose death had come to him at Galloway's command. Galloway was gathering his forces, had delivered an initial blow, mistaking everything upon the one throw of the dice, and he must believe them loaded. At the clank of a spur chain in Raul Straub came hastily into the hallway from his office. He saw the look in the sheriff's eyes and demanded quickly. What is—what's happened? There were grim lines about Norton's mouth, his quiet voice had an ominous ring to it. Hell's to pay, Julius, he retorted, and there's little telling where it'll end unless we're on the jump to meet it. Galloway's come out into the open. Kid Rickert and ten men with him, all Mexicans or breeds, crossed over into the next county yesterday, raided the county jail late in the afternoon, shot poor Roberts, freed Moraga, and got away in a couple of big new touring cars. Every man of them carried a rifle and side arms. Killed Roberts, huh? Straub's frown gathered. Badly hurt, if not dead. Kid did the shooting. There it's Galloway's work, and not just the kids. Yes, only a couple of hours ago a lot of Galloway's crowd was gathering up in the mountains. They've gone to his cache for his rifles, I've sent word for Brocky Lane and his and my cowboys, begins to look as though we're up to something bigger than we've been looking at. And he sure of himself straub, or he wouldn't have started things by daylight. Virginia had heard and come into the hallway from her room, her face white or eyes filled with trouble. Straub turned back into his room abruptly, going for his rifle. You heard? Asked Norton quietly. It's a big fight at last, Virginia. But we've known it was coming all along. Yes, Ron, she said half-litzedly, I'll be glad when it's all over. He sketched for her briefly what little more he knew and suspected. Throughout the county where there was telephone communication the wires were buzzing. Over them the word had come to him of Kid Rickard's attack on Roberts and the freeing of Maraga. But in many places the lines were reported out of order and towns were isolated by cut wires. Already men were riding sweating horses carrying word from him. He knew that Del Rio had gathered a crowd of men at Las Vegas. He was certain that Del Rio was working hand in glove with Galloway. Further that the Mexican had been with Galloway on his recent trip below the border and among the revolutionists. There's solid down there, concluded Norton. What they are up here is something big here than a dash for safety, carrying their booty with them. But we're going to be on time and put a stop to it all. I'm going down to see Engel now. Will you come with me? But before they left the hotel he swore Straubian as a deputy and sent him hastening to carry the word to other men to be counted on. As they passed the Casablanca Norton paused a moment, looking in at the wide open door. It was very quiet within. The place seeming deserted. No use looking for Galloway here, he said as they went on, nor for any of his gang. But when they come back, unless we had them off. Her hand tightened on his arm. She looked up into his thoughtful face with shining eyes. You think they would attempt for the robbery and outlawry here? I'm going to advise Engel to take the bulk of his money out of the bank, dig a hole and hide it, he answered. Just to be sure in case we don't stop him. He knew that he had no time to waste tonight and so, as he had in Virginia entered the Engel's living room, he began immediately telling the banker what had happened and what he feared was set to happen. Engel listened gravely. Galloway is making his getaway tonight, Norton said, by way of conclusion. For every rifle he has man. He has no reason to like you and he knows that you carry more money in gold and banknotes than any other man in the country. The fact that Kid Rickard pulled the game the way he did this afternoon, shooting down Roberts, when there was no need of bloodshed ought to be enough to show us that they're not going to draw the line anywhere this side of old Mexico. What are you planning? asked Engel. Sent for Brocky and all the men he can bring. They'll all come healed and ready for trouble. Every one sworn in is a sheriff's deputy. I'll get every dependable man in San Juan into the saddle with a rifle inside half an hour. Before that, we'll have for the word or if not. We ride toward Mount Temple. I'm taking a gamble so far that that's their rendezvous, that the Kid and his crowd will show up there. It was unnecessary for him to continue. Engel nodded and went for his rifle. Norton, turning toward Mrs. Engel in Virginia, was shocked by the look. He saw in the eyes of the banker's wife. Flory! gasp, Mrs. Engel, her hands gripped in front of her face pailing. I thought she was in her room. When I missed her five minutes ago, I thought that she had slipped out and run to the hotel to see Virginia. Virginia hasn't seen her. Norton smiled and patted the two-class pan. Oh, Flory'll be all right, Mrs. Engel, he comforted her. We mustn't get nervous and begin to imagine things, must we? But no lessening of that look of fear came into the mother's eyes. Galloway was striking. Flory was not to be accounted for, though she turned quickly and went again through the house, the patio, and the rear gardens. She was apprehensively certain that she would not find Florence. Virginia came hurriedly to Norton whispering. I'm afraid for a ride, I'm afraid. I have seen her and Jim Galloway together. I have known all along that he had an influence over her, which he might exert if he wanted to. And just before Jim Galloway went to Mexico, Elmer saw them walk down the street together, stop and talk, together under the trees. Oh, I'm afraid for her, Rod! Engel's face was as white as chalk, when a little later he came back into the room with his wife. His two hands were like rock upon his rifle. Florence isn't in the house, he announced in a voice which, while calm, seemed not John Engel's voice. If she is in San Juan, it won't take a half hour to know it. I'm rather inclined to think that I'm just a fool, Rod Norton. My wife has told me that Galloway was looking at Florence in a way which means no good. I wouldn't believe, now if... Norton had no reply to make Florence's disappearance at a time like this might mean either a very great deal or nothing whatever. But as Engel had intimated, it would require a little time to learn if she were in San Juan and safe, and, as Norton had said, there was no time now to be wasted. Engel would institute inquiries immediately. Norton, his own work looming large before him, would prepare to meet Galloway's latest play. The sheriff decided promptly that it would be unwise to leave the town absolutely drained of men in whom he could put faith. It was always possible that either the entire crowd of Galloway's men or a smaller detachment might find their way here. Julia Strav, four armed men aiding him, was to be responsible for the welfare of women and children. If Galloway stroke should turn out to be bolder and harder than it was now known, then Strav and his men had horses saddled, and were to get their wards out of danger by hard riding. Norton was to post two men a few miles out as he rode north, and they were to report back to Strav in case of a necessity. These latter plans were made only at the moment before the sheriff's departure. A man sent by Brocky Lane had raced into San Juan Street, bringing fresh word. It began to appear that Galloway was working in conjunction with aid from below the border. Del Rio, with a score of men, Mexicans for the most part, who had dribbled into the country during the last few months, was reported to have swept down upon John Engel's ranches, and to be gathering herds of cattle and horses, starting the southward on the run. Three of Engel's cowboys had been shot down a similar attack had been delivered upon other ranchers. The little town of Las Vegas had been looted. Post office store and saloon safes dynamited. Stock driven off to augment Del Rio's other herds. Further, the cowboy sent by Lane reported that a signal fire had been lighted in the mountains an hour ago, and that there had been another fire like an answer leaping up from the desert in the south. Word had also come to Lane that telephone messages hinted that Kid Rickard and his unit were working further outlawry along the county line, headed toward Mount Temple. There were seventeen armed horsemen in the street waiting for the word from Norton. I'll come back to you, he said quietly to Virginia. Because after what you have done for me, I belong to you, if you want me. I want you, Rod, she answered steadily, and I know that you will come back to me, and now, kiss me good night. She clung to him a moment, then pushed him from her, and watched him swing up into the saddle and ride out among the men, who were pledged and sworn to do his bidding. As he did so, Engle came to him. Going with us, John? asked Norton. No, said Engle. I haven't found her yet. Rod, I'll try to pick up a trace of her here and you'll send a man to me if you find her? Yes, Norton promised. And if Galloway has got her? I know what to do, John, said Norton gently. Then, without again looking back, he turned his horse toward the north. The seventeen men riding two and three abreast, silent and gray, for the most part, followed him. The moon shone upon the rifle-barrels and made black grotesque shadows underfoot. Against the northern sky, Mount Temple was lifted sharply outlined. From its crest, a leaping flame was stabbing at the stars. A new signal fired to be seen across many miles. End of Chapter 24 Straight toward that wavering plume of flame in the north they rode swiftly. Each man with his own thoughts and with few words, but rather a man thought of Flory Engle gone or of the shooting of Sheriff Roberts or the looting of Las Vegas or of a ranch raided. He was like his fellows in that he knew that at last Jim Galloway had come out into the open and tonight must be Galloway's triumph or Galloway's death. And perhaps he wondered if his own saddle would run empty under the stars before another dawn. Three or four miles from San Juan, Norton made out an approaching rider, one who bent over his horse's mane, racing furiously. The figure growing rapidly distinct as it drew on from the north grew erect as the horsemen saw Norton's posse. The rider jerked in his horse, pausing a moment as though in doubt whether he were meeting friend or foe. Then, when again he came on that the same headlong gallop, Norton recognized him as Elmer Page. They're fighting back under! cried the boy wildly, his eyes shining with his excitement. Rocky Lane sent me. I have it a rifle. Who will give me a rifle? I'll give a man a hundred dollars for a rifle. Easy, Elmer, said Norton sharply. Tell us what Rocky sent you to say. Where are they? Along the Arroyo, just off to the east of Mount Temple, about a mile from the mountain. You know where the biggest boulders are all strung out along the Arroyo. It's there. Rocky and a lot of cowboys are making a stand there, heading off the kid in Del Rio, so they can't get with the others, you know? Why didn't somebody tell me about this? He broke off his voice drill. I have an rifle, just a cursive revolver. Who will? Again, Norton interrupted sternly. Let's have it straight, Elmer, he commanded. Rocky and his men are along the Arroyo, you see, and they're trying to keep between Del Rio and the kid's crowd and the other crowd. Some of the others are still on the mountain then. The mountain is full of them. They're pulling down and shooting as they come. Rocky's in between. How many men are with him? About twenty, but my God, Rickards men and Del Rios are shooting from the east and the others are shooting from the west. Poor old Tommy Rudge got shot in the stomach and Danny Blaine is down and Del Rio and Rickards didn't come in machines, did they? No, Rocky said, tell you they'd left their cars, sent them on, filled with loot toward the south, where a lot of other greasers are waiting for them. Then the kid and Del Rio and about fifty men all together started a big herd of horses and cattle this way. Rocky tried to stampede the herds, but the others and more than two to one, so he got his men in the royal and they're giving them a hell from there. Galway's on the other side. No, Rocky said, tell you Galway hasn't shown up yet. We think he didn't expect things to get started so soon. One of Rocky's men riding in a little while ago from the other side of San Juan thought that he had seen Galway and someone that looked like a girl riding with him toward the old crossroads where Dunbar place used to be. Rocky thinks maybe you can come in and head Galway off and bust up the whole play that way. So Galway and someone who looked like a girl had ridden toward the old Dunbar crossroads and Galway had not yet joined their his forces. Elmer said Norton quickly, right on to San Juan, tell John Ingle what you have told me about Galway. Tell him. I won't, cried Elmer, on the verge of hysteria. I won't do it. Do it yourself. Send someone else. I want to go with you. I want a rifle, I tell you. Didn't I see Tommy Rudge go down with a bullet in his belly? Didn't I see Denny when the kid shot him? Norton laid a hand on Elmer's arm speaking quietly. Listen Elmer, he said. We will do what we can where Rocky is. But that isn't all of the devil meant tonight. Galway got flurry away somehow. She was the one riding with him toward the crossroads. It's up to you to ride on and ride like the devil and tell John Ingle. Come on boys. Elmer sagged in his saddle as though he had been struck. A heavy physical blow. Galway got fluff, he muttered dully. His gaze trailed along after the departing posse. Norton on his big rhone was setting the pace, the steady swinging gallop to eat up the miles swiftly and yet not kill the horses before the journey's in. The others followed him, stringing out single file to take advantage of the trail. The moon picked them out with clear relief, a grim line of retribution, and yet the boy, while his eyes wandered after them, saw only little fluff, struggling in Jim Galway's arms. Then suddenly he too was riding, but at a pace which took no heed of a horse's endurance, riding a gallant brute that stretched out its neck, nostril flaring, hammering hoofs, beating out the very staccato of urgent speed upon the flying sands. Already his revolver was tight clenched in a lifted hand. Already he had swerved a little from the distant lights of San Juan. He was taking the shortest line, which led to Denver's crossroads. Galway's got fluff, he said, over and over, choking on the words. An hour later, Norton heard the first fitting of rifles, another fifteen minutes of shod hoofs pounding through the broken hills, and he saw the first spurts of flame cutting through the shadows, where the trees clung to the arroyo. As he drew in his horse, the men behind him closed up about him. He threw out his arm, pointing, Brachy's boys must be right down there, he said sharply. The kid and Del Rio will be under. Those are their horses. Young Page says there are about fifty of them. A full side of rifle shots interrupted him. Along a fifty or sixty yard front, the kids and Del Rio's men had crept in closer to Brachy's arroyo, warming their way upon their stomachs, and now fired together. There came a rattling reply from the creek. The shouting of cowboys, we'll take those fellows first, ordered Norton quickly. They will see us when we climb our that little rise. Spread out, go easy, until we get to the top. Then, boys, let's see who can give them health first and the fastest. They looked to the rifles for the last time, and rode slowly up the short slope of the low lying ridge. Then, as the first man topped it, there came a shout from the shadows in front, another shout, and the whizzing of rifle balls. Norton used his spurs then, his big roll leaped forward, and was racing down the further slope. His men in a long line rode with him, and as he rode, he lifted his own gun and poured his lead into the thickest of the shadows. A wild shot of cheering broke from the arroyo. Rifle barrels grew hot in hot hands. On through the bright moonlight came the sheriff's posse, some of them firing as they rode, others saving their lead. To be seen from afar now, they drew many a shot toward themselves, and yet the target of a man riding swiftly over uneven ground and in the moonlight is not to be found over readily by questing lead. When Norton called to his men to stop and dismount, taking advantage of a row of scattered boulders, not a saddle was empty. Every man as he dismounted through his horse rains to the ground. If the animals might bolt, or they might not, some of them might not stop for many a mile, others would be found a hundred yards away, but they must all think less of that now than of what lay in front of them. That you, Norton, came a cheery voice booming suddenly through the silence, which had shut down as the newcomers disappeared among the boulders. Here, Brocky, shouted Norton, all right down there. Pretty well, called Brocky. They've weighing three or four of us, or damned rotten shots, Roddy. We popped over a dozen of them. There were other shouts then, tenor Mexican voices for the most part, with the kids' unmistakable snarl running through them. Men were calling in Spanish to the fellows across the arroyo. Whatever it was that Brocky was trying to say was lost in the den, and then again came a volley of rifle shots. Norton rose slowly to his feet, studying the situation with frowning eyes, a bullet hissed high overhead, another cut by his side, another went shrieking off into the night, but while they whined in his ears, he laid his rude plans. The arroyo wound and twisted this way and that through the broken up plans, where Brocky Lane had placed his men so as to defy the union of the two bands of outlaws, it described a white rude arc, curving about to spur from Mount Temple. Here, the cowboys, with some twenty or thirty feet separating each man from his nearest fellow, were extended along a line which must be about two hundred yards long. The Mexicans to the eastward, where Del Rio and Kid Rickard and Maraga were, were bunched in the protecting shadows of a field of boulders, such as those where the sheriff's men lay. We could stick here all night and get nothing done, said Norton to the men close to him. Rickard's gang could have charged down on Brocky long ago if they'd had the stomach for that sort of thing. They've got the numbers on us. They more than had the count on Brocky's outfit. With those jaspers on the mountain side, they could have turned the trick, but that sort hasn't the desire for a scrap unless they can pull it from behind a rock. And by the same token, they won't last five minutes in the face of a charge. Get me? But the ganks on the mountain will pick us off pretty lively as we hit the trail down the slope here, said a thoughtful voice. Then Norton explained further. He meant to eliminate the other crowd. It could be done. When he gave the word, every man was to jump to his feet and make the first half of his charge, the bloodless one, down into the Arroyo, toward Brocky Lane. Then Norton's men and Brocky's united, they could surge up the Creek Splank and make their flying attack, coming in between the two other factions so that the men on the mountain must hold their fire or kill as many of their own crowd as of the others. The suggestion was accepted without discussion. When Norton said ready, they were ready. When he jumped to his feet and ran down towards the Arroyo, they ran with him. A shout of laughter went up from each side of the dry water course as jeering voices announced triumphantly that the gringos were afraid and with the shouts came rifle shots. But to the last man of them, they reached the Arroyo safely and Ducking Low trotted on to join the Cowboys. In a moment more, Norton had found Brocky Lane and explained his plan. Had had Brocky's silent nod for an answer. In quiet voices, the men passed the word along the line. Those in the farther in drew in closer so that their whole body of something better than thirty men occupied but a brief section of the Arroyo. Get your win, first boys. Norton admonished them. Better fill your clips, too, while you've got the chance and count on using a six gun before you're through, all right? Let's show them the sort of scrap of gringo can put up. Then again they were running the unwavering line of thirty men but with a difference which the outlaws might not mistake and as they ran they held their fire for little knowing how useless and suicidal it would be to pause halfway but presently they were answering shot with shot pausing going down upon one knee taking a moment's advantage of a friendly rock pouring lead into the agitated groups among the boulders springing up running on again every man fighting the fight his own way the thirty of them making the air tingle with their shouts as they bore onward then it was man to man and often enough one man to two or three dark form struggling men striking with clubbed guns men snatching at their side arms going down rising or half rising firing as long as a charge was in a gun or strengthen a body and as they fired and struck and called out after the fashion of the cowboys in a scrimmage the body of men before them wavered and broke and began to fall back norton swung his club empty rifle up in both hands and beat down a man firing at him with a revolver all about him were struggling forms and he was sore beset now and then to know who was who a fierce pistachio black brown man thrust a rifle towards its breast and pulled a trigger and screamed out his curses as norton put a revolver bullet through him a slender boys form sprang up on rock recklessly training his rifle upon brocky lane it was the kid but that kid had met a man quicker sure than himself and brocky fired first kid rickard spun and fell norton saw him drop but lost sight of him before the body struck the earth he had found del real del real had found him two smoking revolvers rejurked up two guns spoke through the clamor as one gun the men were not ten feet apart as their gun spoke norton felt a bullet rip along his outer arm the sensation that of a whiplash cutting deep he saw del real stagger back under the impact of a 45 caliber bullet which must have merely grazed him since it did not knock him off his feet del real his lips dreaming as curses and hatred fired again but his wound had been sore the nortons his aim was less dirty and now as he gave back it was to fall heavily and lie still it had lasted less than five minutes it's jim galloway's fight and galloway don't come someone had shot it they broke again gave back and back and then were running every man of them senting defeat and much worse than defeat unless he came to a horse before another five minutes and after them firing now as they ran came brocky's cowboys and norton's men they've got all of their horses over there together yelled brocky into norton's ear the horses for those guineas who have been hiding out of their mountains too that's why i cut in between them that way now if we can only scatter their coyuses why roddy will have every damned one of them a foot to be rounded up when we get ready and brocky limping as he went had raced along after the others but norton did not follow his eyes had gone to the horses which he and the sanwan men had left behind the little line of boulders and traveling that way he had seen a lone horseman far off to the south a horseman riding frantically seeking to come to the lower slopes of mount temple end of chapter twenty five chapter twenty six of the bells of sanwan the sleeper box recording is in the public domain the bells of sanwan by jackson gregory chapter twenty six the bell's ring galloway it seemed almost as though some great voice had shouted it to him through the den yonder riding on his spurs come at this late moment with jim galloway the man responsible for all of tonight's bloodshed for the disappearance of florie for the death of billy norton coming jim galloway did he say it or again was it a voice shouting to him urging him on he looked off to the east flying forms everywhere with other racing forms pursuing firing as they ran horses jerking back rearing breaking away from the few men guarding them full defeat for jim galloway there but to the west galloway coming on at top speed shouting as he came and upon the mountain's lower slope the others of galloway's men armed and blood thirsty if galloway came to them whipped them with his tongue stirring them with his magnetism why then the fight was all to be fought over now again norton too was running bearing down upon the straggling horses he caught up the first dragging range to lay his hands to swung up into the saddle measured swiftly the distance between galloway and the men on the mountain and used his spurs on came jim galloway his wide heavy shoulders not to be mistaken in the rich moonlight his hat gone his head up a rifle across the saddle in front of him norton lost sight of him as he swept down into the bed of the arroyo caught sight of him again from the further aside already galloway was appreciably nearer his men driving his horse mercilessly if he comes to his crowd before i can stop him was norton's thought he'll put his game across on us yet i've got to hit him off and take the chances nor were the odds to be overlooked galloway was still too far away to be stopped by a rifle ball norton hitting him off would expose himself not only to galloway's fire but to that of the men who were moving it to a lower slope to meet their leader and yet with fate and a balance here was no time for hesitation now galloway had seen him had recognized him perhaps he thought coming naturally to him that it would be rodrick norton who rode to cut him off he shifted his rifle so that his right hand was on the grip the barrel caught in his left he had dropped his horses reins norton was slipping a fresh clip into his gun his own reins now upon the horse's neck and now both men knew that unless a bullet stopped him norton would cut across galloway's path before he could come to his men at him roddy old boy we're coming norton glanced over his shoulder and pressed on brocky had missed him and seen had called back a half dozen of his men and was following well if he dropped maybe brocky and the others could get jim galloway it really began to look as though galloway had played out his string they were firing from the mountainside now the bullets thus far flying wild of their rushing target norton shook his head and urged his horse to fresh endeavor in a moment he would be fairly between galloway and galloway's last chance his eyes picked out the spot where he would dismount at that moment a tumble of big boulders he would swing down so that they would be between him and the mountain so that nothing but moonlight open space lay between him and jim galloway while rifles cracked and spat fire and sprayed lead over him and about him he rode the last fifty yards he reached the boulders set his horse up threw himself from the saddle and with his back to the rock his face toward galloway he lifted his rifle galloway almost at the same instant jerked in his own horse he was so close that norton caught his cry of rage hands up galloway cried the sheriff hands up or i'll drop you but at last galloway had come out into the open at last there was no subterfuge to stand forth at his need at last gambler that he was he accepted the even break of man to man as norton's voice rang out galloway fired he shot twice before norton pulled a trigger norton shot it once galloway dropped his rifle sat rigid a moment toppled from the saddle and his men seeing him go down cried out to one another and drew back into the mountain canyons funny thing said rocky lane afterward had the picture of a kid of a girl in his pocket must have carted it around about a year old roddy's bullet tore right square through it was a picture of floor angle taken ten years before as rocky said just a kid of a girl where he got it nobody knows but then there are other things about jim galloway which no one knew perhaps in sub a during the late hours of the night and the following afternoon the thing was ended sheriff roberts deputies with a posse and otwell bills had raced southward intercepting those other cars dispatched toward the border by the kid in del rio rocky lane with a score of men had swept down upon the stolen herds scattered them fired fifty shots emptied some three or four saddles and then sent the escaping rustlers flying toward the mexican line singly and in small groups other men farmers cowboys minors and the dwellers of small settlements joined with norton's men giving battle to those of galloway's crowd who had drawn back into the fastness of mount temple in the afternoon norton with the aid of a handful of cowboys from rocky's outfit and from lost lorries escorted fifteen anxious faced prisoners to the county seat where jail capacity was to be taxed and night had come again serene and peaceful with the glory of the moon and stars when he rode once more into san juan soar and saddle weary at the hotel he learned that virginia had gone to the angles he left his jaded horse with it gashu and walked down the street in front of the castle block he stopped a moment staring musingly at the solid adobe walls gleaming white in the moonlight the place was quiet deserted no single light winked at him through door or window it seemed to him to be brooding over the passing of jim galloway he found florie and elmer strolling under the cotton woods they had scant interest in him little time to bestow upon a mere mortal florie could only cry statically that black bill was a hero he all alone had terrorized the mexican woman guarding her had saved her had brought her back and elmer could only look pleased and stammer and whispered to fluff to be still virginia had heard his voice the voice she had been listening for throughout so many long hours and met him before he had come to the door oh thank god thank god she cried softly but you're hurt he forgot his wound as both arms closed about her from somewhere at the rear of the house he heard mrs. engels voice crying eagerly it's roddy she was hurrying to greet him what he had to say must be said briefly my work is done he said quickly i have put in my resignation this afternoon they can get a new sheriff i'm going to be a rancher my dear and virginia he was whispering to her his lips close to her hair and virginia though her face was suddenly hot with the flesh mounting to her brow gave him steadily for answer whenever you wish rod norton so it was only 24 hours later that ignacio chavez stood in the old mission garden and made his spells talk just the three upon the western arch the little one the golly arena and ignacio chavez the golden-throated trio that tinkled to the touch of his cunning hand and seemed to laugh and sing and proclaim the gladdest of glad tidings then ignacio drew his unwrapped gaze earthward from the full moon and made out of man and a girl riding out into the night riding toward the ranch of the flowers and he made the bells laugh again and tomorrow bowed ignacio solemnly not later than tomorrow or the day thereafter you shall have your reward amigos you have told the world of heavy doing you have rung for jim galloway dead you have made the music for the wedding of el senior norton and it shall be i who will make a little roof like a house over you you will see end of chapter 26 recording by mike vendetti canyon city colorado mike vendetti dot com end of the bells of san juan by jackson gregory