The Essential Max Brand - 29 Westerns in One Edition. Max Brand
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did she do?”
“She done a fade-away, chief, in the house across the street. Went in with that other gent.”
“He took her by force?” asked John Mark.
“Nope. She slipped in quick enough and all by herself. He went in last.”
“Damnation!” murmured Mark. “That’s all, Rose.”
His follower vanished through the doorway and closed the door softly after him. John Mark stood up and paced quietly up and down the room. At length he turned abruptly on the girl. “Good night. I have business that takes me out.”
“What is it?” she asked eagerly.
He paused, as if in doubt as to how he should answer her, if he answered at all. “In the old days,” he said at last, “when a man caught a poacher on his grounds, do you know what he did?”
“No.”
“Shot him, my dear, without a thought and threw his body to the wolves!”
“John Mark! Do you mean—”
“Your friend Ronicky, of course.”
“Only because Caroline was foolish are you going to—”
“Caroline? Tut, tut! Caroline is only a small part of it. He has done more than that—far more, this poacher out of the West!”
He turned and went swiftly through the door. The moment it was closed the girl buried her face in her hands.
15. THE GIRL THIEF
Before that death sentence had been passed on him Ronicky Doone stood before the door of his room, with the trembling girl beside him.
“Wait here,” he whispered to her. “Wait here while I go in and wake him up. It’s going to be the greatest moment in his life! Poor Bill Gregg is going to turn into the richest man in New York City—all in one moment!”
“But I don’t dare go in. It will mean—”
“It will mean everything, but it’s too late to turn back now. Besides, in your heart of hearts, you don’t want to turn back, you know!”
Quickly he passed into the room and hurried to the bed of Bill Gregg. Under the biting grip of Doone’s hand Bill Gregg writhed to a sitting posture, with a groan. Still he was in the throes of his dream and only half awakened.
“I’ve lost her,” he whispered.
“You’re wrong, idiot,” said Ronicky softly, “you’re wrong. You’ve won her. She’s at the door now, waiting to come in.”
“Ronicky,” said Bill Gregg, suddenly awake, “you’ve been the finest friend a man ever had, but, if you make a joke out of her, I’ll wring your neck!”
“Sure you would. But, before you do that, jump into your clothes and open the door.”
Sleep was still thick enough in the brain of Bill Gregg to make him obey automatically. He stumbled into his clothes and then shambled dizzily to the door and opened it. As the light from the room struck down the hall Ronicky saw his friend stiffen to his full height and strike a hand across his face.
“Stars and Stripes!” exclaimed Bill Gregg. “The days of the miracles ain’t over!”
Ronicky Doone turned his back and went to the window. Across the street rose the forbidding face of the house of John Mark, and it threatened Ronicky Doone like a clenched hand, brandished against him. The shadow under the upper gable was like the shadow under a frowning brow. In that house worked the mind of John Mark. Certainly Ronicky Doone had won the first stage of the battle between them, but there was more to come—much more of that battle —and who would win in the end was an open question. He made up his mind grimly that, whatever happened, he would first ship Bill Gregg and the girl out of the city, then act as the rear guard to cover their retreat.
When he returned they had closed the door and were standing back from one another, with such shining eyes that the heart of Ronicky Doone leaped. If, for a moment, doubt of his work came to him, it was banished, as they glanced toward him.
“I dunno how he did it,” Bill Gregg was stammering, “but here it is —done! Bless you, Ronicky.”
“A minute ago,” said Ronicky, “it looked to me like the lady didn’t know her own mind, but that seems to be over.”
“I found my own mind the moment I saw him,” said the girl.
Ronicky studied her in wonder. There was no embarrassment, no shame to have confessed herself. She had the clear brow of a child. Suddenly, it seemed to Ronicky that he had become an old man, and these were two children under his protection. He struck into the heart of the problem at once.
“The main point,” he said, “is to get you two out of town, as quick as we can. Out West in Bill’s country he can take care of you, but back here this John Mark is a devil and has the strength to stop us. How quick can you go, Caroline?”
“I can never go,” she said, “as long as John Mark is alive.”
“Then he’s as good as dead,” said Bill Gregg. “We both got guns, and, no matter how husky John Mark may be, we’ll get at him!”
The girl shook her head. All the joy had gone out of her face and left her wistful and misty eyed. “You don’t understand, and I can’t tell you. You can never harm John Mark.”
“Why not?” asked Bill Gregg. “Has he got a thousand men around him all the time? Even if he has they’s ways of getting at him.”
“Not a thousand men,” said the girl, “but, you see, he doesn’t need help. He’s never failed. That’s what they say of him: ‘John Mark, the man who has never lost!’”
“Listen to me,” said Ronicky angrily. “Seems to me that everybody stands around and gapes at this gent with the sneer a terrible lot, without a pile of good reasons behind ‘em. Never failed? Why, lady, here’s one night when he’s failed and failed bad. He’s lost you!”
“No,” said Caroline.
“Not lost you?” asked Bill Gregg. “Say, you ain’t figuring on going back to him?”
“I have to go back.”
“Why?” demanded Gregg.
“It’s because of you,” interpreted Ronicky Doone. “She knows that, if she leaves you, Mark will start on your trail. Mark is the name of the gent with the sneer, Bill.”
“He’s got to die, then, Ronicky.”
“I been figuring on the same thing for a long time, but he’ll die hard, Bill.”
“Don’t you see?” asked the girl. “Both of you are strong men and brave, but against John Mark I know that you’re helpless. It isn’t the first time people have hated him. Hated? Who does anything but hate him? But that doesn’t make any difference. He wins, he always wins, and that’s why I’ve come to you.”
She turned to Bill Gregg, but such a sad resignation held her eyes that Ronicky Doone bowed his head.
“I’ve come to tell you that I love you, that I have always loved you, since I first began writing to you. All of yourself showed through your letters, plain and strong and simple and true. I’ve come tonight to tell you that I love you, but that we can never marry. Not that I fear him for myself, but for you.”
“Listen here,” said Bill Gregg, “ain’t there police in this town?”
“What could they do? In all of the things which he has done no one has been able to accuse him of a single