The Music
: The Seventh ManTo the last ravine Kate's horse carried her easily enough, but that
mountain pass was impenetrable through all its length to anything except
the uncanny agility of Satan, and so she left the cow-pony in the bottom of
the gorge and climbed the last rise on foot.
On the mountainside above her, it was not easy to locate the cave, for the
slope was clawed into ravines and confused with meaningless criss-cross
boulders which threatened each instant to topple over and go thundering to
the base. She had come upon the cave by chance in her ride with Dan, and
now she hunted vainly through the great stones for the entrance. A fresh
wind, chill with the snows of the upper peaks, pulled and tugged at her and
cut her face and hands with flying bits of sand. It kept up a whistling so
insistent that it was some time before she recognized in the hum of the
gale a different note, not of pleasant music, but a thin, shrill sound that
blended with the voice of the wind.
The instant she heard it she stopped short on the lee side of a tall rock
and looked about her in terror. The mountains walked away on every side,
and those resolute masses gave her courage. She listened, for the big rock
cut away the breath of the wind about her ears and she could make out the
whistling more clearly. It was a strain as delicate as a pin point ray of
light in a dark room, but it made Kate tremble.
Until the sound ended she stayed there by the rock, hearkening, but the
moment it ceased she gathered her resolution with a great effort and went
straight toward the source of the whistling. It was only a moment away,
although the wind had made it seem much farther, and she came on the tall,
narrow opening with Joan sitting on a rock just within. Instead of the blue
cloak, she was wrapped in a tawny hide, and the yellow hair blew this way
and that, unsheltered from the wind. The loneliness of the little figure
made Kate's heart ache, made her pause on her way, and while she hesitated,
Joan's head rested back against the rock, her eyes half closed, her lips
pursed, she began to whistle that same keen, eerie music.
It brought Kate to her in a rush.
"Oh Joan!" she cried. "My baby!"
And she would have swept the child into her arms, but Joan slipped out from
under her very fingers and stood a little distance off with her hands
pressed against the wall on either side of her, ready to dart one way or
the other. It was not sudden terror, but rather a resolute determination to
struggle against capture to the end, and her blue eyes were blazing with
excitement. Kate was on her knees with her arms held out.
"Joan, dear, have you forgotten munner?"
The wildness flickered away from the eyes of the child little by little.
"Munner?" she repeated dubiously.
No shout of welcome, no sudden rush, no arms to fling about her mother. But
if her throat was dry and closed Kate allowed no sign of it to creep into
her voice.
"Where's Daddy Dan?"
"He's gone away."
"Where?"
"Oh--over there!"
The mother rose slowly to her feet, and looked out across the mountains as
if in search of aid. For her mind had harked back to that story her father
used to tell of the coming of Dan Barry; how he had ridden across the hills
one evening and saw, walking against the sunset, a tattered boy who
whistled strangely as he went, and when old Joe Cumberland asked where he
was going he had only waved a vague hand toward the north and answered,
"Oh--over there. It was sufficient destination for him, it was sufficient
explanation now for the child. She remembered how she, herself a child
then, had sat at her father's table and watched the brown face of the
strange boy with fascination, and the wild, quick eyes which went
everywhere and rested in no one place. They were the eyes which looked up
to her now from Joan's face, and she felt suddenly divorced from her baby,
as if all the blood in Joan were the blood of her father.
"He left you here alone?" she murmured.
The child looked at her with a sort of curious amazement.
"Joan isn't alone."
She whistled softly, and around the corner of the rock peered two tiny,
beady-bright eyes, and the sharp nose of a coyote puppy. It disappeared at
once at the sight of the stranger, and now all the strength went from Kate.
She slipped helplessly down, and sat on a boulder trying to think, trying
to master the panic which chilled her; for she thought of the day when
Whistling Dan brought home to the Cumberland Ranch the wounded wolf-dog,
Black Bart. But the call of Joan had traveled far, and now a squirrel came
in at a gallop with his vast tail bobbing behind him, and ran right up the
rock until he was on the shoulder of the child. From this point of vantage,
however, he saw Kate, and was instantly on the floor of the cave and
scurrying for the entrance, chattering with rage.
The wild things came to Joan as they came to her father, and the eyes of
the child were the eyes of Dan Barry. It came home to Kate and she saw the
truth for the first time in her life. She had struggled to win him away
from his former life, but now she knew that it was not habit which
controlled him, for he was wild by instinct, by nature. Just as the tang of
his untamed blood had turned the child to this; and a few days more of life
with him would leave her wild forever.
"He left you alone here!" she repeated fiercely. "Where a thousand things
might happen. Thank God I've found you."
Even if her words conveyed little meaning to Joan, the intonation carried a
message which was perfectly clear.
"Don't you like Daddy Dan?"
"Joan, Joan, I love him! Of course."
But Joan sat with a dubious eye which quickly darkened into fear.
"Oh, Munner, don't take us back!"
Such horror and terror and sadness mixed! The tears rushed into the eyes of
Kate.
"Do you want to stay here, sweetheart?"
"Yes, munner."
"Without me?"
At first Joan shook her head decidedly, but thereafter she quickly became
thoughtful.
"No, except when we eat."
"You don't want me here at dinner-time? Poor munner will get so hungry."
A great concession was about to burst from the remorseful lips of Joan, but
again second thought sobered her. She remained in a quandary, unable to
speak.
"Don't you want me even when you wake up at night?"
"Why?"
"Because you're so afraid of the dark."
"Joan's not afraid. Oh, no! Joan loves the dark."
If Kate maintained a smile, it was a frozen grimace. It had only been a few
days--hardly yesterday--that Joan left, and already she was a little
stranger. Suppose Dan should refuse to come back himself; refuse even to
give up Joan! She started up, clutching the hand of the child.
"Quick, Joan, we must go!"
"Joan doesn't want to go!"
"We'll go--for a little walk. We--we'll surprise Daddy Dan."
"But Daddy Dan won't come back for long, long time. Not till the sun is
away down behind that hill."
That should mean two hours, at least, thought Kate. She could wait a
little.
"Joan, what taught you not to be afraid of the dark?"
This problem made Joan look about for an answer, but at length she called
softly: "Jackie!"
She waited, and then whistled; at once the bright eyes of the little coyote
appeared around the edge of the rock.
"Come here!" she commanded.
He slunk out with his head turned towards Kate and cowered at the feet of
the child. And the mother cringed inwardly at the sight; all wild things
which hated man instinctively with tooth and claw were the friends, the
allies of Whistling Dan, and now Joan was stepping in her father's path. A
little while longer and the last vestige of gentleness would pass from her.
She would be like Dan Barry, following calls which no other human could
even hear. It meant one thing: at whatever cost, Joan must be taken from
Dan and kept Away.
"Jackie sleeps near me," Joan was saying. "We can see in the dark, can't
we, Jackie?"
She lifted her head, and the moment her compelling eyes left him, Jackie
scooted for shelter. The first strangeness had worn away from Joan and she
began to chatter away about life in the cave, and how Satan played there by
the firelight with Black Bart, and how, sometimes--wonderful sight!--Daddy
Dan played with them. The recital was quite endless, as they pushed farther
and farther into the shadows, and it was the uneasiness which the dim light
raised in her that made Kate determine that the time had come to go home.
"Now," she said, "we're going for that walk."
"Not away down there!" cried Joan.
Kate winced.
"It's lots nicer here, munner. You'd ought to just see what we have to eat!
And my, Daddy Dan knows how to fix things."
"Of course he does. Now put on your hat and your cloak, Joan."
"This is lots warmer, munner."
"Don't you like it?" she added in alarm, stroking the delicate fur.
"Take it off!"
Kate ripped away the fastenings and tossed the skin far away.
"Oh!" breathed Joan.
"It isn't clean! It isn't clean," cried Kate. "Oh, my poor, darling baby!
Get your bonnet and your cloak, Joan, quickly."
"We're coming back?"
"Of course."
Joan trudged obediently to the side of the cave and produced both articles,
sadly rumpled, and Kate buttoned her into them with trembling fingers.
Something akin to cold made her shake now. It was very much like a child's
fear of the dark.
But as she turned towards the entrance to the cave and caught the hand of
Joan, the child wrenched herself free.
"We'll never come back," she wailed. "Munner, I won't go!"
"Joan, come to me this instant."
Grief and fear and defiance had set the child trembling, but what the
mother saw was the glint of the eyes, uneasy, hunting escape with animal
cunning. It turned her heart cold, and she knew, with a sad, full knowledge
that Dan was lost forever and that only one power could save Joan. That
power was herself.
"I won't go!"
"Joan!"
A resolute silence answered her, and when she went threateningly forward,
Joan shrank into the shadows near the rock. It was the play of light
striking slantwise from the entrance, no doubt, but it seemed to Kate that
a flicker of yellow light danced across the eyes of the child. And it
stopped Kate took her breath with a new terror. Dan Barry, in the old days,
had lived a life as quiet as a summer's day until the time Jim Silent
struck him down in the saloon; and she remembered how Black Bart had come
for her and led her to the saloon, and how she found Dan lying on the
floor, streaked with blood, very pale; and how she had kneeled by him in a
panic, and how his eyes had opened and stared at her without answer and the
yellow, inhuman light swirled in them until she rose and backed out the
door and fled in a hysteria of fear up the road. That had been the
beginning of the end for Dan Barry, that instant when his eyes changed; and
now Joan--she ran at her swiftly and gathered her into her arms. One
instant of wild struggling, and then the child lay still, her head
straightened a little, a shrill whistle pealed through the cave.
Kate stopped that piercing call with her hand, but when she turned, she saw
in the entrance the dark body of Bart and his narrow, snake-like head.
More
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The Long Arm Of The Law
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The night was growing late and there were anxious hearts at "Roderick's." The four-in-hand had arrived hours before, and Silent Pete had also brought his party safely in--to the mutual relief of himself and Miss Milliken, the latter really surpris... The Midnight Visitor
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Meantime, at the ranch, when Judkins's news had sent Venters on the trail of the rustlers, Jane Withersteen led the injured man to her house and with skilled fingers dressed the gunshot wound in his arm. "Judkins, what do you think ... The Moon The Maid And The Winged Shoes
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Once out of Rickett, Barry pulled the stallion back to an easy canter. He had camped during the latter part of the night near the town and ridden in in the morning, so that Satan was full of running. He rebelled now against this easy pace, and tosse... The Mountain Trail
As Stewart departed from one door Florence knocked upon another; and Madeline, far shaken out of her usual serenity, admitted the cool Western girl with more than gladness. Just to have her near helped Madeline to get back her balance. She was consc... The Mourners At San Francisco
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There was a breath of spring in the soft morning air of Todos Santos--a breath so subtle and odorous that it penetrated the veil of fog beyond the bay, and for a moment lingered on the deck of a passing steamer like an arresting memory. But only f... The Mule Driver And The Garrulous Mute
Bill had finished panning the concentrates from our last clean-up, and now the silver ball of amalgam sizzled and fried on the shovel over the little chip-fire, while we smoked in the sun before the cabin. Removed from the salivating fumes of the q... The Muleshoe
The riders of the Muleshoe outfit were eating breakfast when Bud rode past the long, low-roofed log cabin to the corral which stood nearest the clutter of stables and sheds. He stopped there and waited to see if his new boss was anywhere in sight an... The Murder On The Beach
At this moment the cook stuck his head in at the open door. "Say, you fellows," he complained, "I got to be up at three o'clock. Ain't you never going to turn in?" "Shut up, Doctor!" "Somebody kill him!" "Here, sit down and listen to this yar... The Music
To the last ravine Kate's horse carried her easily enough, but that mountain pass was impenetrable through all its length to anything except the uncanny agility of Satan, and so she left the cow-pony in the bottom of the gorge and climbed the last r... The Mysterious Motor-car
Buck took to Jim Tenny at once. There was something about this long, lean, brown-faced foreman of the Rocking-R, with his clear gray eyes and that half-humorous twist to his thin lips, which inspired not only confidence but liking as well. He list... The New Alliance
"And so," said Lee Haines, when he joined Buck Daniels in the living-room, "there goes our reinforcements. That whole crew will scatter like dead leaves when Barry breezes in. It looks to me--" "Shut up!" cut in Daniels. "Shut up!" His dark, ho... The New Assistant At Pine Clearing School
CHAPTER I. The schoolmistress of Pine Clearing was taking a last look around her schoolroom before leaving it for the day. She might have done so with pride, for the schoolroom was considered a marvel of architectural elegance by the citizens... The New Foreman
Toward the end of the week Stillwell informed Madeline that Stewart had arrived at the ranch and had taken up quarters with Nels. "Gene's sick. He looks bad," said the old cattleman. "He's so weak an' shaky he can't lift a cup. Nels says that Gene... The New Master
Right in front of the school door, and some little distance from it, in the midst of a clump of maples, stood an old beech-tree with a dead top, and half-way down where a limb had once been and had rotted off, a hole. Inside this hole two very res... The Newspaper Clew
"Do you think he'll catch that fellow?" It was Phil who asked the question, as he and Dave and Roger watched the old miner disappear around a bend of the back trail. "I don't know about that," returned Dave. "But if he gets the horses back it... The Night Herd
By the time the Hardy faction had given up the chase in disgust, Caldwell, White, and Scotty had joined Tip and the Texan some miles below Midway on the Chisholm Trail. The former three were jubilant over their unexpected release from the fire trap... The North Wind's Malice
It had snowed during the night, but toward morning it had grown cold; now the sled-runners complained and the load dragged heavily. Folsom, who had been heaving at the handle-bars all the way up the Dexter Creek hill, halted his dogs at the crest ... The Oasis
AUGUST NAAB'S oasis was an oval valley, level as a floor, green with leaf and white with blossom, enclosed by a circle of colossal cliffs of vivid vermilion hue. At its western curve the Colorado River split the red walls from north to south. When... The Old Hunter
I ran till I got a stitch in my side, and then slowed down to a dog-trot. The one thing to do was to get a long way ahead of my pursuers, for surely at the outset they would stick like hounds to my trail. A mile or more below the gorge I took to ... The Old Sheep-herder
The ranger was awakened in the first faint dawn by the passing of the girl's light feet as she went across the hall to her mother's room, and a moment later he heard the low murmur of her voice. Throwing off his blankets and making such scant toil... The Old Swimming Hole
"The same sand that gave birth to the coyote and the eagle gave birth to the Indian and to me. I wonder why!" MUSINGS OF THE ELEPHANT. Little Jim and his mother were left very much alone by B... The Old Timer
About a week later, in the course of the round-up, we reached the valley of the Box Springs, where we camped for some days at the dilapidated and abandoned adobe structure that had once been a ranch house of some importance. Just at dusk one afte... The Old Trail
For another mile Wade followed the main road and then diverged sharply to the left into what was known as the old, or upper, trail. This had formerly been the valley road until made dangerous by a wash-out a year or two previous. In the following ... The Ole Virginia
The ring around the sun had thickened all day long, and the turquoise blue of the Arizona sky had filmed. Storms in the dry countries are infrequent, but heavy; and this surely meant storm. We had ridden since sun-up over broad mesas, down and ou... The Open Door
The proprietor of the Nugget and Rope, a German named Baum, not being troubled with police rules, kept the door wide open for the purpose of inviting trade, a proceeding not to the liking of his patrons for obvious reasons. Probably not one man i... The Ordeal By Fire
That action had been resolved upon, and prompt action, was now apparent. Stabber, fighting chief though he had been in the past, had had his reason for opposing the plans of this new and vehement leader; but public sentiment, stirred by vehement o... The Ore-theft
At half past five next morning Joe and I slipped out of bed, leaving Tom Connor, who had to go to work again at seven, still fast asleep. While Joe quietly prepared breakfast, I went out to examine by daylight the scene of last night's explosion. ... The Other Girl
The girl's voice stirred the benumbed youth into action again, and he followed her mechanically. His slender stock of physical strength was almost gone, but his will remained unbroken. At every rough place she came back to him to support him, to h... The Outcasts Of Poker Flat
As Mr. John Oakhurst, gambler, stepped into the main street of Poker Flat on the morning of the twenty-third of November, 1850, he was conscious of a change in its moral atmosphere since the preceding night. Two or three men, conversing earnestly ... The Outlaw Gets A Bad Break
Houck crawled through the barbed-wire fence and looked back into the park from which he had just fled. June was kneeling beside the man he had shot. Some one was running across the grass toward her. Soon the pursuit would be at his heels. He dared... The Outlaws
For the first few weeks after the change in ownership and the arrival of the new superintendent, the Red Butte Western and its nerve-centre, Angels, seemed disposed to take Mr. Howard Lidgerwood as a rather ill-timed joke, perpetrated upon a primi... The Paper A Year Old
Sang hurried out for a broom. Senor Johnson sat where he was, his heavy, square brows knit. Suddenly he stooped, seized one of the newspapers, drew near the lamp, and began to read. It was a Kansas City paper and, by a strange coincidence, was d... The Parting By The Waters
"Some day I may tell Miss Angela--but never you," had Mr. Blakely said, before setting forth on his perilous essay to find Angela's father, and with native tenacity Miss Wren the elder had remembered the words and nourished her wrath. It was stran... The Passing Of The Colt's Forty-five
The man of whom I am now to tell you came to Arizona in the early days of Chief Cochise. He settled in the Soda Springs Valley, and there persisted in spite of the devastating forays of that Apache. After a time he owned all the wells and springs ... The Penalty
While Mr. Travennes had been entertained in the manner narrated, Mr. Connors had passed the time by relating stale jokes to the uproarious laughter of his extremely bored audience, who had heard the aged efforts many times since they had first see... The Pest-house
Cavanagh had kept a keen watch over Wetherford, and when one night the old man began to complain of the ache in his bones his decision was instant. "You've got it," he said. "It's up to us to move down the valley to-morrow." Wetherford protes... The Pit
Just as Going mounted the steps on the edge of the pit the great gong struck, a roar of a hundred voices developed with the swiftness of successive explosions, the rush of a hundred men surging downward to the centre of the pit filled the air with t... The Pleasurers
The freight wreck in the Crosswater Hills, coming a fortnight after Rufford's arrest and deportation to Copah and the county jail, rudely marked the close of the short armistice in the conflict between law and order and the demoralization which se... The Poachers
One morning, as he topped the rise between the sawmill and his own station, Cavanagh heard two rifle-shots in quick succession snapping across the high peak on his left. Bringing his horse to a stand, he unslung his field-glasses, and slowly and m... The Postmistress Of Laurel Run
CHAPTER I. The mail stage had just passed Laurel Run,--so rapidly that the whirling cloud of dust dragged with it down the steep grade from the summit hung over the level long after the stage had vanished, and then, drifting away, slowly sift... The Price
MacQueen lost no time in announcing his new program. "Boys, the hanging's off. I've decided to accept West's offer for Flatray's life. It's too good to turn down." "That's what I told you all the time," growled Buck. "Well, I'm telling you ... The Priest From Monclova
That was a night of terror for the women. Although Longorio's discipline was in some ways strict, in others it was extremely lax. From some quarter his men had secured a supply of mescal, and, forgetful of Felipe's unhappy fate, they rendered the ... The Primeval Instinct
On the other side of the house Buck found the mistress of the ranch and her two guests standing in a little group beside one of the dusty, discouraged-looking flower-beds. As he appeared they all glanced toward him, and a troubled, almost frighten... The Private Car
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