The Spider
: The Estray: The Branding Iron
"Hullo. Is this Mrs. Morena?"
Betty held the receiver languidly. Her face had grown very thin and
her eyes were patient. They were staring now absently through the
front window of Woodward Kane's sitting-room at a day of driving April
rain.
"Yes. This is Mrs. Morena."
The next speech changed her into a flushed and palpitating girl.
"Mr. Gael wishes to
automatically,--"if you have seen the exhibition of Foster's
water-colors, Fifty-eighth Street and Fifth Avenue. He wants to know
if you will be there this afternoon at five o'clock. No. 88 in the
inner room is the picture he would especially like you to notice,
madam."
Betty's hand and voice were trembling.
"No. I haven't seen it." She hesitated, looking at the downpour. "Tell
him, please, that I will be there."
Her voice trailed off doubtfully.
The man at the other end clipped out a "Very well, madam," and hung
up.
Betty was puzzled. Why had Prosper sent her this message, made this
appointment by his servant? Perhaps because he was afraid that, in her
exaggerated caution, she might refuse to meet him if she could explain
to him the reason for her refusal, or gauge the importance of his
request. With a servant she could do neither, and the very uncertainty
would force her to accept. It was a dreadful day. Nobody would be out,
certainly not at the tea-hour, to look at Foster's pictures--an
insignificant exhibition. Betty felt triumphant. At last, this far too
acquiescent lover had rebelled against her decree of silence and
separation.
At five o'clock she stepped out of her taxicab, made a run for
shelter, and found herself in the empty exhibition rooms. She checked
her wrap and her umbrella, took a catalogue from the little table,
chatted for a moment with the man in charge, then moved about, looking
carelessly at the pictures. No. 88 in the inner room! Her heart was
beating violently, the hand in her muff was cold. She went slowly
toward the inner room and saw at once that, under a small canvas at
its far end, Prosper stood waiting for her.
He waited even after he had seen her smile and quickening step, and
when he did come forward, it was with obvious reluctance. Betty's
smile faded. His face was haggard and grim, unlike itself; his eyes
lack-luster as she had never seen them. This was not the face of an
impatient lover. It was--she would not name it, but she was conscious
of a feeling of angry sickness.
He took her hand and forced a smile.
"Betty, I thought you disapproved of this kind of thing. I think,
myself, it's rather imprudent to arrange a meeting through your maid."
Betty jerked away her hand, drew a sharp breath. "What do you mean? I
didn't arrange this meeting. It was you--your man."
They became simultaneously aware of a trap. It had sprung upon them.
With the look of trapped things, they stared at each other, and Betty
instinctively looked back over her shoulder. There stood Jasper in the
doorway of the room. He looked like the most casual of visitors to an
art-gallery, he carried a catalogue in his hand. When he saw that he
was seen he smiled easily and came over to them.
"You will have to forgive me," he murmured pleasantly; "you see, it
was necessary to see you both together and Betty is not willing to
allow me an interview. I am sorry to have chosen a public place and to
have used a trick to get you here, but I could not think of any other
plan. This is really private enough. I have arranged this exhibition
for Foster and it is closed to the public to-day. We got in by special
permit--a fact you probably missed. And, after all, civilized people
ought to be able to talk about anything without excitement."
Betty's eyes glared at him. "I will not stay! This is insufferable!"
But he put out his hand and something in his gesture compelled her.
She sat down on the round, plush seat in the middle of the room and
looked up at the two men helplessly. Joan had once leaned in a
doorway, silent and unconsulted, while two men, her father and Pierre,
settled their property rights in her. Betty was, after all, in no
better case. She listened, whiter and whiter, till at the last she
slowly raised her muff and pressed it against her twisted mouth.
Morena stood with his hand resting on the high back of the circular seat
almost directly above Betty's head. It seemed to hold her there like a
bar. But it was at Prosper he looked, to Prosper he spoke. "My friend,"
he began, and the accentuation of the Hebraic quality of his voice had
an instantaneous effect upon his two listeners. Both Prosper and Betty
knew he was master of some intense agitation. They were conscious of an
increasing rapidity of their pulses. "My friend, I thought that I knew
you fairly well, as one man knows another, but I find that there have
been certain limits to my knowledge. How extraordinary it is! This inner
world of our own lives which we keep closely to ourselves! I have a
friend, yes, a very good friend, a very dear friend,"--the ironic
insistence upon this word gave Prosper the shock of a repeated
blow,--"and I fancy, in the ignorance of my conceit, that this friend's
life is sufficiently open to my understanding. I see him leave college,
I see him go out on various adventures. I share with him, by letters and
confidences, the excitement of these adventures. I know with regret that
he suffers from ill-health and goes West, and there, with a great deal
of sympathy, I imagine him living, drearily enough, in some small,
health-giving Western town, writing his book and later his play which he
has so generously allowed me to produce."
"What the devil are you after, Jasper?"
"But I do my friend an injustice," went on the manager, undiverted.
"His career is infinitely more romantic. He has built himself a little
log house amongst the mountains, and he has decorated it and laid in a
supply of dainty and exquisite stuffs. I believe that there is even an
outing suit, small and narrow--"
"My God!" said Prosper, very low.
There was a silence. Jasper moved slightly, and Prosper started, but
the Jew stayed in his former place, only that he bent his head a
little, half-closed his eyes, and marked time with the hand that was
not buried in the plush above Betty's head. He recited in a heavy
voice, and it was here that Betty raised her muff!
Jasper is dying. By the time you get this letter he will be dead.
If you can forgive me for having failed in courage last year, come
back. What I have been to you before, I will be to you again, only
this time we can love openly. Come back.
"I am going mad!" said Prosper harshly, and indeed his face had a
pinched, half-crazy look.
The Jew waved his hand. "Oh, no, no, no. It is only that you are
making a discovery. Letters should be burnt, my friend, not torn and
thrown away, but burnt." He stood up to his stateliest height and he
made a curious and rather terrible gesture of breaking something
between his two hands. "I have this letter and I hold you and
Betty--so!" he said softly--"so!"
Betty spoke. "I might have told you that I loved him, that I have
loved him for years, Jasper. If you use this evidence, if you bring
this counter-suit, it will bring about the same, the very same,
result. Prosper and I--" She broke off choking.
"Of course. Betty and I will be married at once, as soon as she gets
her divorce, or you get yours." But Prosper's voice was hollow and
strained.
"You will be married, Betty," went on Jasper as calmly as before;
"you, branded in the eyes of the world as an unfaithful wife, will be
married to a man who has ceased to love you."
"That is not true," said Betty.
"Look at his face, my dear. Look at it carefully. Now, watch it
closely. Prosper Gael, if I should tell that with a little patience, a
little skill, a little unselfishness, you could win a certain woman
who once loved you--eh?--a certain Jane West, could you bring yourself
to marry this discarded wife of mine?"
Betty sprang up and caught Prosper's arm in her small hand.
"He is tired of you, Betty. He loves Jane West." Jasper laughed
shortly, looking at the tableau they made: Prosper white, caught in
the teeth of honor, his face set to hide its secret, Betty reading his
eyes, his soul.
"I am entirely yours, in your hands," said Prosper Gael.
Betty shook his arm and let it go. "You are lying. You love the woman.
Do you think I can't see?"
"It will be a very strange divorce suit," went on Jasper. "Your
lawyers, Betty, will perhaps prove your case. My lawyers will
certainly prove mine, and, when we find ourselves free, our--our
lovers will then unite in holy matrimony--rather an original outcome."
"Will you go, Prosper?" asked Betty. It was a command.
He saw that, at that moment, his presence was intolerable to her.
"Of course. If you wish it. Jasper, you know where to find me, and,
Betty,"--he turned to her with a weary tenderness,--"forgive me and
make use of me, if you will, as you will."
He went out quickly, feeling himself a coward to leave her, knowing
that he would be a coward to stay to watch the anguish of her broken
heart and pride. For an instant he did hesitate and look back. They
were standing together, calmly, man and wife. What could he do to help
them, he that had broken their lives?
Betty turned to Jasper, still with the muff before her mouth, looking
at him above it with her wide, childlike, desperate eyes.
"What do you get out of this, Jasper? I will go to Woodward. I will
never come back to you.... Is it revenge?"
"If so," said Jasper, "it isn't yet complete. Betty, you have been
rash to pit yourself against me. You must have known that I would
break you utterly. I will break you, my dear, and I will have you
back, and I will be your master instead of your servant, and I will
love you--"
"You must be mad. I'm afraid of you. Please let me go."
"In a moment, when you have learned what home you have to go to. This
morning I had an interview with your brother in his office, and he
wrote this letter that I have in my pocket and asked me to give it to
you."
Betty laid down her muff, showing at last the pale and twisted mouth.
Jasper watched her read her brother's letter, and his eyes were as
patient and observant as the eyes of a skillful doctor who has given a
dangerous but necessary draught.
Betty read the small, sharp, careful writing, very familiar to her.
I have instructed your maid to pack your things and to return at
once to your husband's house. He is a much too merciful man. You
have treated him shamelessly. I can find no excuse for you. My
house is definitely closed to you. I will send you no money,
allow you no support, countenance you in no way. This is final.
You have only one course, to return humbly and with penitence to
your husband, submit yourself to him, and learn to love and
honor and obey him as he deserves. The evidence of your guilt is
incontrovertible. I utterly disbelieve your story against him.
It is part of your sin, and it is easily to be explained in the
light of my present knowledge of your real character. Whether
you return to Morena or not, I emphatically reassert that I will
not see you or speak to you again. You are to my mind a woman of
shameless life, such a woman as I should feel justified in
turning out of any decent household.
Woodward Kane
The room turned giddily about Betty. She saw the whole roaring city
turn about her, and she knew that there was no home in it for her. She
could go to Prosper Gael, but at what horrible sacrifice of pride,
and, if Jasper now refused to bring suit, could she ask this man, who
no longer loved her, to keep her as his mistress? What could she do?
Where could she turn? How could she keep herself alive? For the first
time, life, stripped of everything but its hard and ugly bones, faced
her. She had always been sheltered, been dependent, been loved. Once
before she had lost courage and had failed to venture beyond the
familiar shelter of custom and convention. Now, she was again most
horribly afraid. Anything was better than this feeling of being lost,
alone. She looked at Jasper. At that moment he was nothing but a
protector, a means of life, and he knew it.
"Will you come home with me now?" he asked her bitterly.
Betty forced the twisted mouth to speech. "What else is there for me
to do?" she said.
More
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The Sailor With One Hand
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Every day, as always, Senor Johnson rode abroad over the land. His surroundings had before been accepted casually as a more or less pertinent setting of action and condition. Now he sensed some of the fascination of the Arizona desert. He notic... The Sheep Herder's Cabin
When, in the delirium of fever, Jim Barlow strayed from his room at San Leon, the one idea in his mind was that the mountains called him. One distant peak, in especial, seemed imbued with life, using human speech and gesture--warning him to come, ... The Sheriff Introduces Himself
Bear-trap Collins, presuming on the new intimacy born of an exciting experience shared in common, stepped across the aisle, flung aside Miss Wainwright's impedimenta, and calmly seated himself beside her. She was a young woman capable of a hauteur c... The Sheriff Of El Cajon
About the middle of the forenoon of that day Madeline reached the ranch. Her guests had all arrived there late the night before, and wanted only her presence and the assurance of her well-being to consider the last of the camping trip a rare adventu... The Ship That Saw A Ghost
Very much of this story must remain untold, for the reason that if it were definitely known what business I had aboard the tramp steam-freighter Glarus, three hundred miles off the South American coast on a certain summer's day, some few years ago... The Showdown
A fire burned briskly in front of Mr. Trendley's cabin that night and several punchers sat around it occupied in various ways. Two men leaned against the wall and sang softly of the joys of the trail and the range. One of them, Lefty Allen, of t... The Shyness Of Shorty
Bailey smoked morosely as he scanned the dusty trail leading down across the "bottom" and away over the dry grey prairie toward the hazy mountains in the west. From his back-tilted chair on the veranda, the road was visible for miles, as well as ... The Sign And Seal
"The river forever flows yet she sees no farther than I who am forever silent, forever still." MUSINGS OF THE ELEPHANT. "Jim Manning, you've no right to speak to me that way," said Penelope. ... The Sign Of The Bar Shoe
Many a time has it happened in the old days of the old army that the post adjutant has begged to be allowed to go with some detachment sent after Indians. Rarely has it happened, however, that, without any request from the detachment commander or ... The Sign Of The Sunset
"BUT the man's almost dead." The words stung John Hare's fainting spirit into life. He opened his eyes. The desert still stretched before him, the appalling thing that had overpowered him with its deceiving purple distance. Near by stood a somb... The Signal Lights
In a little hill-rift about a mile back of the Lazy D Ranch was a deserted miner's cabin. The hut sat on the edge of a bluff that commanded a view of the buildings below, while at the same time the pines that surrounded it screened the shack from... The Silent Campaign
"I have seen that those humans who seek strength from Nature never fail to find it." MUSINGS OF THE ELEPHANT. Suma-theek waited eagerly. "I'll send for Uncle Benny," said Pen. "He'll leave a... The Sin-buster
In the fall, when the whole country had turned to a great cup of gold, purple-rimmed under the sky, Pierre went out into the hills after his winter meat. Joan was left alone. She spent her time cleaning and arranging the two-room cabin, and tidyin... The Sincere Spinster
I do not know with which of the two estimates--Mr. Taylor's or the Virginian's--you agreed. Did you think that Miss Mary Stark Wood of Bennington, Vermont, was forty years of age? That would have been an error. At the time she wrote the letter to ... The Sinks
"We can go through the pasture and cut off a couple of miles," said Honey when they were mounted. "I hope you don't think I'm crazy, wanting a ride at this time of day, after all the excitement we've had. But every Sunday is taken up with horse-raci... The Sioux Surrounded
In the hush of the wintry night, under a leaden sky, with snowflakes falling thick and fast and mantling the hills in fleecy white, Webb's column had halted among the sturdy pines, the men exchanging muttered, low-toned query and comment, the hors... The Sixth Man
It caused a quick turning of heads. "I don't want to put you out none," said the applicant gently. His voice was extremely gentle, and there was about him all the shrinking aloofness of the naturally timid. The deputy looked him over with quiet am... The Smoke Of The Burning
The reader will observe that the forest ranger's job is that of a man and a patriot, and such a ranger was Cavanagh, notwithstanding his foreign birth. He could ride all day in the saddle and fight fire all night. While not a trained forester, he ... The Snow-slide
The rain, which continued pretty steadily all day, Sunday, had ceased before the following morning, when, looking through the rifts in the clouds to the west we could see that a quantity of new snow had fallen on the mountains. "There'll be no ... The Soldier Finds An Untrodden Valley
During the weeks that followed Meade Burrell saw much of Necia. At first he had leaned on the excuse that he wanted to study the curious freak of heredity she presented; but that wore out quickly, and he let himself drift, content with the pleasur... The Sombre Line
AUGUST NAAB hoped that Mescal might have returned in his absence; but to Hare such hope was vain. The women of the oasis met them with gloomy faces presaging bad news, and they were reluctant to tell it. Mescal's flight had been forgotten in the s... The Song Of The Omaha
"Me, I theenk yoh not lov' me so moch as a pin," Ramon complained in soft reproach, down in the dry wash where Applehead had looked in vain for baling wire. "Sometimes I show yoh what is like the Spanish lov'. Like stars, like fire--sometimes I seen... The Spelling-match
The "Twentieth" school was built of logs hewn on two sides. The cracks were chinked and filled with plaster, which had a curious habit of falling out during the summer months, no one knew how; but somehow the holes always appeared on the boys' sid... The Spider
"Hullo. Is this Mrs. Morena?" Betty held the receiver languidly. Her face had grown very thin and her eyes were patient. They were staring now absently through the front window of Woodward Kane's sitting-room at a day of driving April rain. ... The Spinster Loses Some Sleep
Somewhere at the eastern base of the Tetons did those hoofprints disappear into a mountain sanctuary where many crooked paths have led. He that took another man's possessions, or he that took another man's life, could always run here if the law or... The Spinster Meets The Unknown
On a Monday noon a small company of horsemen strung out along the trail from Sunk Creek to gather cattle over their allotted sweep of range. Spring was backward, and they, as they rode galloping and gathering upon the cold week's work, cursed chee... The Spirit Of Manti
The Benham private car had clacked eastward over the rails three weeks before, bearing with it as a passenger only the negro autocrat. At the last moment, discovering that she could not dissuade Rosalind from her mad decision to stay at Blakeley's... The Stampede To Squaw Creek
I. Two months after Smoke Bellew and Shorty went after moose for a grubstake, they were back in the Elkhorn saloon at Dawson. The hunting was done, the meat hauled in and sold for two dollars and a half a pound, and between them they posse... The Stolen Horses
"Oh, look!" "That horse is going over the cliff!" "Take care, Phil, or he'll drag you with him!" Such were some of the cries which arose as the others looked back on the rocky trail and saw the situation. The horse with the outfit had st... The Storm Bursts
The vigilantes had entered Crawling Water at about ten o'clock, when the saloons and gambling joints were in full swing. Ribald songs and oaths from the players, drinkers, and hangers-on floated into the street, with now and then the bark of a six... The Strange Story Of Arthur Bridges
Putting down his book, Ree looked thoughtfully into Tom's face. "Of course," said he, "John and I have wondered about that--that matter--but we have considered that you had some reason for not talking of it, or telling us what it meant; and it w... The Stranger's Plan
Fisher, wild with rage, returned to the Paradise and profanely unfolded the tale of his burning wrongs to the bartender and demanded the loan of his gun, which the bartender promptly refused. The present owner of the gun liked Fisher very much for b... The Strategy Of Mr Peters
Hopalong and his companion rode into Muddy Wells at noon, and Red Connors, who leaned with Buck Peters against the side of Tom Lee's saloon, gasped his astonishment. Buck looked twice to be sure, and then muttered incredulously: "What th' heck!" ... The Strength Of The Pack
"The lone hunter finds the best hunting but he must fight and die alone." MUSINGS OF THE ELEPHANT. That night, when Iron Skull Williams stopped at Jim's tent to speak of some detail of the w... The Summons
When Wayland caught the startled look on Berrie's face he knew that she had learned from her father the contents of his telegram, and that she would require an explanation. "Are you going away?" she asked. "Yes. At least, I must go down to De... The Supervisor Of The Forest
Young Norcross, much as he admired Berrie, was not seeking to exchange her favor for her lover's enmity, and he rode away with an uneasy feeling of having innocently made trouble for himself, as well as for a fine, true-hearted girl. "What a good ... The Swoop Of The Hawk
"JACK! the saddle's slipping!" cried Mescal, clinging closer to him. "What luck!" Hare muttered through clinched teeth, and pulled hard on the bridle. But the mouth of the stallion was iron; regardless of the sawing bit, he galloped on. Hare cal... The Tables Turned
From the local eastbound a man swung to the station platform at Mesa. He was a dark, slim, little man, wiry and supple, with restless black eyes which pierced one like bullets. The depot loungers made him a focus of inquiring looks. But, in spit... The Taking Of The Cache
It was understood that in the absence of the sheriff Richard Bellamy should have charge of the posse, and after the disappearance of Flatray he took command. With the passing years Bellamy had become a larger figure in the community. The Monte ... The Tale Of A Cigarette
The open door revealed three men asleep on the earthen floor, two of whom were Mexicans. Mr. Cassidy then for the first time felt called upon to relieve his companion of the Colt's which so sorely itched that gentleman's thigh and then disarmed t... The Tall Child
There were times, even now, when Prosper tried to argue himself back into sardonic self-possession. "Pooh!" said his brain, "you were beside yourself over a loss and then you were shut in for months of winter alone with this mountain girl, so natu... The Taste Of The Meat
I. In the beginning he was Christopher Bellew. By the time he was at college he had become Chris Bellew. Later, in the Bohemian crowd of San Francisco, he was called Kit Bellew. And in the end he was known by no other name than Smoke B... The Tenderfoot Makes A Proposition
Melissy waited in dread expectancy to see what would happen. Of quick, warm sympathies, always ready to bear with courage her own and others' burdens, she had none of that passive endurance which age and experience bring. She was keyed to the hero... The Tenderfoot Takes Up A Claim
Mr. Diller, alias Morse, alias Bellamy, did not long remain at the Bar Double G as a rider. It developed that he had money, and, tenderfoot though he was, the man showed a shrewd judgment in his investments. He bought sheep and put them on the gov... The Tent House
"Leave Old Jezebel to herself and she soon returns to old ways. She likes them best for she is a woman." MUSINGS OF THE ELEPHANT. Pen's voice, when it came, was lower and fuller than he had r... The Terror
Engineer John Judson, disappearing at the moment when the superintendent had sent him back to bully Schleisinger into appointing him constable, from the ken of those who were most anxious to hear from him, was late in reporting. But when he finall... The Test
Pierre "Feroce" showed disapproval in his every attitude as plainly as disgust peered from the seams in his dark face; it lurked in his scowl and in the curl of his long rawhide that bit among the sled dogs. So at least thought Willard, as he clung... The Test
The most that could be said of Rickett was that it had a courthouse and plenty of quiet so perfect that the minds of the office holders could turn and turn and hear no sound saving their own turning. There were, of course, more buildings than the co... The Texas Rangers
I came from Texas, like the bulk of you punchers, but a good while before the most of you were born. That was forty-odd years ago--and I've been on the Colorado River ever since. That's why they call me Colorado Rogers. About a dozen of us came o... The Thaw At Slisco's
The storm broke at Salmon Lake, and we ran for Slisco's road-house. It whipped out from the mountains, all tore into strips coming through the saw-teeth, lashing us off the glare ice and driving us up against the river banks among the willows. Cold... The Thumb Print
"I have been buffeted by the ages until I dominate the desert. So do the ages buffet one another until they produce a dominating man." MUSINGS OF THE ELEPHANT. Uncle Denny was on the pl... The Trail
"Frank, what'll we do about horses?" asked Jones. "Jim'll want the bay, and of course you'll want to ride Spot. The rest of our nags will only do to pack the outfit." "I've been thinkin'," replied the foreman. "You sure will need good mounts. Now... The Trail
A short dash brought me to the end of the block; the side street was not so dark, and after I had crossed this open space I glanced backward. Soon I sped into a wan circle of light, and, reaching a door upon which was a hotel sign, I burst in. Cha... The Trail Forks
So there I stood, amidst silence, gaping foolishly, breathing hard, my revolver smoking in my fingers and my enemy in a shockingly prone posture at my feet, gradually reddening the white of the torn soil. He was upon his face, his revolver hand ou... The Trail Herd
Day after day the trail herd plodded slowly to the north, following the buffalo trails that would lead to water, and the crude map of one who had taken a herd north and had returned with a tale of vast plains and no rivals. Always through the day th... The Trail Narrows
Again we broke camp. We rolled down from the plateau into that wizard basin lying all beautiful and slumberous and spell-locked like some land of heart's desire. We replenished our water casks from the tank cars, we swapped for a little feed, we o... The Trail Of The Red Wall
AFTER the departure of Dene and his comrades Naab decided to leave White Sage at nightfall. Martin Cole and the Bishop's sons tried to persuade him to remain, urging that the trouble sure to come could be more safely met in the village. Naab, howe... The Training Of A Leopardess
On that evening Prosper began to talk. The unnatural self-repression he had practiced gave way before the flood of his sociability. It was Joan's amazing beauty as she stumbled wretchedly into the circle of his firelight, her neck drawn up to its ... The Trap
"Yuh out last night?" brusquely inquired Gabby, as they were dressing next morning. A direct question from the eccentric individual was so novel that Buck paused in buckling on his cartridge-belt, and stared at him in frank surprise. "Why, n...