THE BOY WHO FOUND CHRISTMAS & THE MAN WHO FORGOT CHRISTMAS. Max Brand
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woman servant, and close to her stood a girl with sunny hair and earnest blue eyes, still darkened with the shadow of her recent fright. Her head was framed by the snow-crusted window beyond, and against that cold background the brown of her hair seemed golden and the olive skin took on tints of rich life. Upon Lou Alp she broke as light breaks upon deep darkness. Only the knee of Jack Chapel, striking his ribs, made him rouse himself enough to turn his glance.
"You'll have this room to yourself," the rancher was saying to Alp. "And you can take that smaller room next door, Mister Chandler. I suppose you'll want to be handy to your partner, eh? That way he can call you plumb easy."
He accepted the thanks which Jack Chapel proffered with a negligent wave of his massive arm.
"It ain't a thing," he said. "We're glad to have you. Lonely life we lead out here. Need company. Take Kate in particular, over there. She gets blue from bein' alone so much. Don't blame her. You try to cheer her up and I'll thank you for it."
The girl flushed and parted her lips to protest, but her father, laughing uproariously, drove her and the others out of the room.
"You boys make yourselves to home," he said from the door. "I'll see that you're kept quiet. If you need anything, just holler. We chow in about half an hour. We'll send up some broth and chicken for Mister Angus. S'long, boys."
He banged the door after him and went down the hall with a thunderous step.
The moment he was assured that there was no danger of being overheard, Lou Alp cried: "Did you see?"
His companion turned moodily. "See what?"
"The girl!"
"Huh?"
"The girl, blockhead!"
"Forget the girl."
Chapel began to pace the floor slowly. Once he stopped and kicked at the fire so that a shower of sparks went snapping up the chimney.
"Don't cuss women," said Alp, his face darkening. He was a good-looking fellow in his lean, dark way but, when he frowned, his face became savage to the point of venom.
"Cuss women?" said the other with a start. "Who cussed them? I didn't mean to."
"What a girl," sighed Alp. He looked hungrily at Chapel but, seeing that he could not confide in the larger man, he changed the topic reluctantly. "I guess we landed on our feet well enough."
"I guess we did."
"You don't seem terrible cheerful about it."
"Maybe I don't," growled Chapel.
"What's wrong?"
"They're clean," said Jack. He straightened, and took a deep breath. "They're clean!"
The sneak thief gathered the bed clothes a little closer around his throat. "But ain't... ain't you clean yourself, Jack? Wasn't it a frame that put you in jail?"
There was a sort of acid eagerness in his query, a bitter longing to hold his head as high as his companion's.
"I s'pose I'm all right," said the big man dubiously. "But I've been in jail, and I bring the scent of it with me. I've been in the shadow, and now I don't feel right. Understand?"
The thief merely stared. His mind came near enough to comprehension to be disturbed, but no more.
In the meantime Jack Chapel paced up and down the floor thoughtfully. "Did you notice their eyes?" he kept repeating "Nothing behind them. Did you notice their eyes? Straight as a string. You can look a mile into eyes like that. Nothing to hide in 'em."
"What have you got to hide?" asked Lou, rather viciously.
"Nothin' much. I'm just a supposed murderer and an uncaught highway robber. I'm a jail breaker and a bum. Outside of them little things, I guess the doctor'll give me a clean bill of health."
He began to laugh in an ugly manner. Then the laughter broke off short, and he stood beside the fire with his elbow resting on the mantel. Over his downcast face the light tossed up bursts of yellow and bursts of red. It made the lines deeper and the strong jaw became a cruel, dominant feature. Lou Alp, looking on, saw as from a distance there was some inner struggle going on in the man. But he did not speak. He could not even silently name the trouble to himself.
"Nobody'll ever get anything on you," he ventured at length.
"But what about myself?" cried Jack Chapel. He threw out his hand, but there was no oratorical suggestion in the gesture. It was simply the appeal of one seeking aid. "They took us in and didn't ask any questions. Why, if the old man had asked questions, he could have punched my story full of holes. But he's so honest, he doesn't bother himself doubting. Well..." He stopped.
The sneak thief once more huddled deeper into the clothes. "Well?" he echoed faintly.
"Don't talk. I'm filled full of something... deviltry, I guess. I'm about ready to bust, Alp!"
V. VICARIOUS VIRTUES
A still small voice warned Lou Alp to be silent and let the mind of his companion work by itself. As one sees lights through a fog and cannot tell whether they mean ships or land or danger, so he stared at the gloomy face of Jack Chapel and wondered what passed behind his eyes. Secretly he rather despised Jack. Such exhibitions of emotion seemed ludicrous to Lou Alp.
Only one thing could extract any great display of his own inner self, and that was his overlord: fear. Yet, at the end of the chase when he found himself hopelessly lost, he could display the stoicism of an Indian. No third degree could make him betray the secrets of himself or of a confederate. Nothing under heaven could make him talk when he was helpless. The consequence was that each arrest was for a new and different crime, and not once had the police been able to link together a complete record of his doings from his testimony.
That day, for instance, up to the time when he was shot he was a coward, a trembling, rank coward. But the moment the bullet plowed through his flesh and made him helpless, he became brave. He had endured the torture of the ride with few murmurs, and only the new danger of Chapel's imminent desertion had shattered his nerves.
He was, indeed, the exact opposite of Chapel. To Lou Alp the exciting moment was the approach to this house where they knew no one, and where they might be betrayed and exposed. Once they were inside the place, helpless, hopelessly consigned to one course of action, fear departed from Lou Alp just as the fear which made the Indian flee in battle left him when he was in the hands of his enemy. On the other hand, Jack Chapel was perfectly at home meeting active danger, but this house closed around him like a new prison. The storm had been nothing except sound and fury, against which one could battle; but the silence of the house lay heavily on him. He was tormented by thoughts which could never enter the cramped forehead of Lou Alp. Under the sting of those thoughts he writhed. One room held the two men, but a world separated them.
In a few moments there was a tap at the door, which Jack Chapel answered. Katherine Moore entered with a steaming tray of food and her glance went pleasantly toward the wounded man, so that Lou Alp raised himself on one elbow, expectantly, and smiled back. Chapel took the tray.
"Thanks," he said. "But I'll take care of Lou."
The girl glanced at him in bewilderment, his tone had been so sharp. She apparently struggled against a touch of irritation, and then the feeling of a hostess overcame her scruple of anger.
"We'll see that he's comfortable," she suggested, "and then we'll both have to go down to dinner. Everything's about ready."
Chapel, on the way to the bed, turned back on her. "I'd better stay here till he's through. He might want something."
She paused, then, "We can leave the door open and hear him if he calls."
"If you don't mind, I'll bring a tray up for myself and stay with Lou."
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