VIII. THE SIGN OF THE BEAST

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      The deadline which Black Jim said he had drawn around his cabin certainly had its effect, for never after the first day did she see one of the bandits. Now and again she caught the sound of distant firing when they practiced with their guns. Three or four times she heard drunken singing through the night as they held high festival. Otherwise she knew naught of them or their actions, though her mind retained the grim gallery of their portraits. The day would surely be when Black Jim should fail to return from one of his expeditions, and then—

      That day came. She waited till late at night, but he did not come. She could scarcely sleep, and when the morning came she sat in the cabin guessing at a thousand, horrors.

      A voice took up a song in the distance, and then came closer and closer. Jerry stood up and felt for her revolver with a nervous hand. The voice rose clearer and clearer. She could make out the words:

      “Julia, you are peculiar;

       Julia, you are queer.”

      Jerry dropped her hands on her hips and drew a long breath, partly of vexation and partly of relief.

      “It’s Freddie,” she muttered.

      “Truly, you are unruly,

       As a wild Western steer.

       Some day, when we marry,

       Dear one, you and I;

       Julia, you little mule, you,

       I’m going to rule you,

       Or die.”

      The song ended as the singer approached the edge of the open space before Black Jim’s cabin. Jerry stepped through the door to see Montgomery standing in the shadow of the trees.

      “Yea, Jerry!” he yelled. “Is the gunman around?”

      “He’s not here,” she answered. “You don’t have to be afraid of anything, Freddie.”

      “Oh, don’t I?” came the reply. “Didn’t he make this a deadline, La Belle? Suppose he should come back and find me on the other side of it? Not me, Jerry; I like life too well!”

      “Where’ve you been?” said Jerry, approaching him—“and what in the world have you been doing, Freddie?”

      For as she drew closer she found herself looking upon a Frederick Montgomery who, in voice alone, remained the man she had known. A vast stubble of black beard and whiskers, unshaven for full two weeks or more, obscured the fine outline of his features. His broad hat, pushed back from his forehead, allowed a mop of tangled hair to fall down almost to his eyes. Overalls, soiled and marred with wrinkles, a shirt torn savagely across the side, muddy boots, and the heavy revolver completed his equipment. Jerry was aghast!

      “What’s the matter, Jerry?” asked Montgomery. “Some hit, this costume; eh? It isn’t make-up, kid. It’s the real thing.”

      “And I suppose you’re the real thing under it?” said Jerry in deep disgust.

      “Sure,” said he, easily. “Stack all your chips and put ‘em on me, kid. I’m the real stuff!”

      “Why haven’t you been around?” asked Jerry sharply, and bitter anger took her breath, “You knew I was left here at the mercy of Black Jim. And you haven’t done a thing to help me! Why?”

      “Why?” repeated the other, but not peculiarly embarrassed. “There’s a reason, kid. I’ve been too busy living.”

      “Too busy getting dirty, you mean,” snorted La Belle Geraldine. “Go make yourself decent and then come back if you want to talk with me! But if you’ve got dirt in your mind, Freddie, water won’t help you.”

      He growled deep in his throat and she stepped back a pace. She had never heard such an ominous sound from him before: now she scanned him more closely. It seemed to her that his eyes were sunken and shadowed significantly.

      “Don’t try that line on me any more, Jerry,” he answered, “You could get by in the old days, but it won’t do up here.”

      “Won’t it, deary?” asked Jerry, with a rather dangerous sweetness.

      “Not a hope, kid,” answered he, “I’m through with all that stuff. Down in the States a jane could pull that line now and then and get by with it, but up here, it’s a man’s country, and it’s up to you to sidestep when anything in pants comes along.”

      “As a man,” returned Jerry, yet for some reason she did not feel as brave as her words, “as a man, cutie, you come about as close to the real article as a makeup will let you. But I’m behind the scenes and it won’t quite do, Mr. Montgomery, it won’t quite do.”

      He scowled but he softened his tone as he answered.

      “Look here, Jerry,” he said, “I didn’t come here looking for a fight. Am I your friend or am I not?”

      “Do you remember how you backed out of the room when Black Jim simply looked at you, Freddie?” she asked gently.

      “Sure I do,” he growled, “but you can’t hold that up against me, Jerry. There isn’t a man of the bunch that would take a chance face to face with Black Jim. He ain’t human, you ought to know that. The only difference between him and a tiger is that he uses a gun. He’s just—”

      “Cut it out, Freddie,” she broke in. “I’m tired of you already. Ring off. Hang up. You’re on the wrong wire.”

      “Say, kid,” he said with gravity, “Do I gather that you stand for that man-eater?”

      “Take it any way you like,” she said coldly.

      He laughed disagreeably.

      “Of course you don’t,” he went on, “You’re simply kidding me along. What if I could show you the way out of the valley tonight, Jerry?”

      She caught her breath.

      “The way out? Freddie! Are you playing me straight?”

      “I don’t know,” he said, with a trace of sullenness, “but this is my night on duty at the gap.”

      “Then I’m free!” she cried, “I’ll start as soon as it’s pitch dark and—”

      “Wait a minute,” he interrupted, “don’t run away with yourself. If you disappeared Black Jim would know I let you pass and when he found out that his—”

      “Stop there,” she said. “Freddie, what do you mean—do you think—”

      “Lay off on that, Jerry,” returned Montgomery. “You’re a swell dancer, but you can’t get away with heavy stuff like this. You’ve been all alone with him here, haven’t you?”

      She touched her hand to her forehead and wondered at its coldness in a vague way.

      “Why should I care?” she murmured, “Let him think what he will.”

      “But I’m still strong for you,” Montgomery was saying. “Don’t get white and scared, kid. I don’t hold it against you, much. What I say is, why not get rid of Black Jim? You can take him off his guard. Say the word and I’ll hang around at night and you can signal me when he’s asleep. Then I’ll come and do the work. It’d be a risky job, but for your sake, kid, I’d—”

      “You’ve said enough,” she answered, and then summoning her courage and fighting back her disgust, for here was her one chance to gain freedom. “If you’re afraid of him, why not go with me? What’s your idea? Do you really intend to stay here. Freddie, you haven’t