Shadow Mountain

“Here, Charley!” he commanded, “let that gluttonous cur wait. What’s this I hear from Virginia? Didn’t you tell her I was perfectly well?”

“Why–why yes, sir; I did, sir,” replied Charley, apologetically, “but–she only thought I was crazy. I told her, all the time─”

“Oh, Charley!” reproached Virginia, “didn’t you know better than that? You only said it when you had those spells. Why didn’t you tell me when you were feeling all right–and you denied it, I know, repeatedly!”

“The Colonel would kill me,” mumbled Charley sullenly. “He told me not to tell. But I brought you the whiskey, sir; a whole big─”

“Never mind the whiskey,” said the Colonel sharply. “Now, let’s get to the bottom of this matter. Why should you think I was dead when I had merely absented myself─”

“But the body!” clamored Virginia. “We got word you were lost when your burro came in at the Borax works. And when we hired trackers, the Indians said you were lost–and your body was out in the sand-hills!”

“It was that cursed camp-robber!” declared the Colonel with conviction. “Well, I’m glad he’s gone to his reward. It was only some rascal that came through here and stole my riding burro–did they care for old Jack at the Works? Well, I shall thank them for it kindly; and anything I can do–but what’s the matter, Virginia?”

She had drawn away from him and was gazing about anxiously and Charley had slunk guiltily away.

“Why–where’s Wiley?” she cried, clutching her father by the arm. “Oh, isn’t he here, after all?”

“Wiley?” repeated the Colonel. “Why, who are you talking about? I never even heard of such a man.”

“Oh, he’s dead then; he’s lost!” she sobbed, sinking down on the ground in despair. “Oh, I knew it, all the time! But that old Charley─” She cast a hateful glance at him and the Colonel beckoned sternly.

“What now?” he demanded as Charley sidled near. “Who is this Mr. Wiley?”

“Why–er–Wiley; Wiley Holman, you know. I followed his tracks to the Gateway. Ain’t he around here somewhere? I found this bottle─” He held up the flask that he had given to Wiley, and the Colonel started back with a cry.

“What, a tall young fellow with leather puttees?”

“Oh, yes, yes!” answered Virginia, suddenly springing to her feet again. “We followed him–isn’t he here?”

The Colonel turned slowly and glanced at the cave, where Wiley was still hiding close, and then he cleared his throat.

“Well, kindly explain first why you should be following this gentleman, and─”

“Oh, he’s here, then!” sighed Virginia and fell into her father’s arms, at which Charley scuttled rapidly away.

“Mr. Holman,” spoke up the Colonel, as Wiley did not stir, “may I ask you to come out here and explain?”

There was a rustle inside the cave and at last Wiley came out, stuffing a strip of dried meat into his hip pocket.

“I’ll come out, yes,” he said, “but, as I’m about to go, I’ll leave it to your daughter to explain.”

He picked up his canteen and started down to the water-hole, but the Colonel called him sternly back.

“My friend,” he said, “it is the custom among gentlemen to answer a courteous question. I must ask you then what there is between you and my daughter, and why she should follow you across Death Valley?”

“There is nothing between us,” answered Wiley categorically, “and I don’t know why she followed me–that is, if she really did.”

“Well, I did!” sobbed Virginia, burying her face on her father’s breast, “but I wish I hadn’t now!”

“Huh!” grunted Wiley and stumped off down the trail where he filled his canteen at the pool. He was mad, mad all over, and yet he experienced a strange thrill at the thought of Virginia following him. He had left her smiling and shaking hands with Blount, but a curse had been on the money, and her conscience had forced her to follow him. It had been easy, for her, with a burro to ride on and Death Valley Charley to guide her; but with him it had been different. He had fled from arrest and it was only by accident that he had won to the water-hole in time. But yet, she had followed him; and now she would apologize and explain, as she had explained it all once before. Well, since she had come–and since the Colonel was watching him–he shouldered his canteen and came back.

“My daughter tells me,” began the Colonel formally, “that you are the son of my old friend, John Holman; and I trust that you will take my hand.”

He held out his hand and Wiley blinked as he returned the warm clasp of his friend. Ten days of companionship in the midst of that solitude had knitted their souls together and he loved the old Colonel like a father.

“That’s all right,” he muttered. “And–say, hunt up the Old Man! Because he thinks the world of you, still.”

“I will do so,” replied the Colonel, “but will you do me a favor? By gad, sir; I can’t let you go. No, you must stay with me, Wiley, if that is your name; I want to talk with you later, about your father. But now, as a favor, since Virginia has come so far, I will ask you to sit down and listen to her. And–er–Wiley; just a moment!” He beckoned him to one side and spoke low in his ear. “About that woman who betrayed your trust–perhaps I’d better not mention her to Virginia?”

Wiley’s eyes grew big and then they narrowed. The Colonel thought there was another woman. How could he, proud soul, even think for a moment that Virginia herself had betrayed him? No, to his high mind it was inconceivable that a daughter of his should violate a trust; and there was Virginia, watching them.

“Very well,” replied Wiley, and smiled to himself as he laid down his gun and canteen. He led the way up the creek to where a gnarled old cottonwood cast its shadow against the cliff and smoothed out a seat against the bank. “Now sit down,” he said, “and let’s have this over with before the Colonel gets wise. He’s a fine old gentleman and if his daughter took after him I wouldn’t be dodging the sheriff.”

“Well, I came to tell you,” began Virginia bravely, “that I’m sorry for what I’ve done. And to show you that I mean it I gave Blount back his stock.”

Wiley gazed at her grimly for a moment and then he curled up his lip. “Why not come through,” he asked at last, “and acknowledge that he held it out on you?”

Virginia started and then she smiled wanly.

“No,” she said, “it wasn’t quite that. And yet–well, he didn’t really give it to me.”

“I knew it!” exploded Wiley, “the doggoned piker! But of course you made a clean-up on your other stock?”

“No, I didn’t! I gave that away, too! But Wiley, why won’t you listen to me? I didn’t intend to do it, but he explained it all so nicely─”

“Didn’t I tell you he would?” he raged.

“Yes, but listen; you don’t understand. When I went to him first I asked for Father’s stock and–he must have known what was coming. I guess he saw the bills. Anyway, he told me then that he had always loved my father, and that he wanted to protect us from you; and so, he said, he was just holding my Father’s stock to keep you from getting it away from us. And then he called in some friends of his; and oh, they all became so indignant that I thought I couldn’t be wrong! Why, they showed me that you would make millions by the deal, and all at our expense; and then–I don’t know, something came over me. We’d been poor so long, and it would make you so rich; and, like a fool, I went and did it.”

“Well, that’s all right,” said Wiley. “I forgive you, and all that; but don’t let your father know. He’s got old-fashioned ideas about keeping a trust and–say, do you know what he thinks? I happened to mention, the first night I got in, that a woman had thrown me down; and he just now took me aside and told me not to worry because he’d never mention the lady to you. He thinks it was somebody else.”

“Oh,” breathed Virginia, and then she sat silent while he kicked a hole in the dirt and waited. He was willing to concede anything, agree to anything, look pleasant at anything, until the ordeal was over; and then he intended to depart. Where he would go was a detail to be considered later when he felt the need of something to occupy his mind; right now he was only thinking that she looked very pale–and there was a tired, hunted look in her eyes. She had nerves, of course, the same as he had, and the trip across Death Valley had been hard on her; but if she suffered now, he had suffered also, and he failed to be as sorry as he should.

“You’ll be all right now,” he said at last, when it seemed she would never speak up, “and I’m glad you found your father. He’ll go back with you now and take a fall out of Blount and–well, you won’t feel so poor, any more.”

“Yes, I will,” returned Virginia, suddenly rousing up and looking at him with haggard eyes. “I’ll always feel poor, because if I gave you back all I had it wouldn’t be a tenth of what you lost.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” grumbled Wiley. “I don’t care about the money. Are they hunting me for murder, or what?”

“Oh, no; not for anything!” she answered eagerly. “You’ll come back, won’t you, Wiley? Mother was watching you through her glasses, and she says George fired first. They aren’t trying to arrest you; all they want you to do is to give up and stand a brief trial. And I’ll help you, Wiley; oh, I’ve just got to do something or I’ll be miserable all my life!”

“You’re tired now,” said Wiley. “It’ll look different, pretty soon; and–well, I don’t think I’ll go in, right now.”

“But where will you go?” she entreated piteously. “Oh, Wiley, can’t you see I’m sorry? Why can’t you forgive me and let me try to make amends, instead of making both our lives so miserable?”

“I don’t know,” answered Wiley. “It’s just the way I feel. I’ve got nothing againstyou; I just want to get away and forget a few things that you’ve done.”

“And then?” she asked, and he smiled enigmatically.