The Bad Man Part 34

"But to kill a man--like that! In cold blood!" Hardy gasped. "Oh, it's horrible!"

"Why not?" Lopez wanted to know. "Ze skindler, ze coward what beat his wife. Was evil man." What white-livered folk these Americans were!

Gilbert looked down at Pell's body, which had now, in death, a certain curious dignity. "But don't you see what you've done?"

Lopez looked at him in bland amazement. "You wouldn't still fool around wiz ze foolish law, ze silly court?" he inquired. "Do you not see 'ow much better is my way? One hour ago you 'ave no money, no rancho, no woman. One little hour! Ze money she is paid, ze rancho she is yours, and ze woman what you want to marry is free for do so!" He looked Gilbert in the eyes, and came close to him. "Tell me, 'ave I not keep my promise? 'Ave I not make you, in one little hour, a 'appy man?"

CHAPTER XII

WHEREIN THE BAD MAN CANNOT UNDERSTAND THE GOOD MAN AND DISAPPEARS; AND A DEAD MAN STIRS

Immediately after, Lucia came in. She saw the body of her husband, the legs drawn up a bit, the arms stretched out, the wounded head turned so that the blood flowing from the forehead could not be seen. Only a few moments before, this limp, pitiful object had been speaking to her--calling her by name. It seemed incredible that Pell was powerless now to harm her. Brute though he had been, he gained, in this awesome instant, a strange glory, as the dead always do. The splendor of that universal experience was suddenly his; and, even lying there like a discarded meal-sack, he took on something of the pomp of a cardinal who had died. Never, of course, had she respected him more; and though she could not bring herself to shed a tear, she looked down at the still body, huddled in a heap, and craved one more word with him. No matter what has happened between a man and a woman; no matter what tragic hours they have known, when the moment of separation comes, there is always that wish to have explained a little more, to have taken a different course in all one's previous actions. It was not that she blamed herself; she had nothing on her conscience. But there was an instinctive dread at meeting the certain pain of this crisis.

She could not believe that he had gone from her like this. She had read of people being blotted out in such fas.h.i.+on; but that Fate should bear down upon her household, that the lightning should strike within the borders of her garden, seemed impossible. Like everyone else, she never dreamed that a great tragedy could come to her. Just as we never think of ourselves as meeting with a street accident, so she never thought of this catastrophe.

Yet there he lay, the symbol of that inexorable terror that moves through the world.

She went over quietly to a chair near the table and sat down. She hid her face in her hands. She did not wish to see that silent form again; yet he had been her husband, and her place, she knew, was by his side, in death even more than in life. How the world had changed for her in this little hour!

She had come into the room just as Pancho was finis.h.i.+ng his talk with Gilbert; and she caught the force of his words. Now she heard him saying something else.

"And now, what you say? You all 'appy, eh?"

Gilbert was still too dazed to understand. "You've killed him!" was all he could utter.

"I 'ave," the bandit answered. "You need not thank me. It was a great pleasure." Evidently he smiled; Lucia would not look up.

Gilbert paced the floor. "He's dead!" he kept repeating, as though to brand the truth upon his brain. "He's dead!" He paused once and stared down again at the body.

"He's dead, just as I say," Lopez stated. "Pedro never misses."

As though he had heard his name spoken, the ubiquitous Pedro ambled in, slowly, and with a bored expression upon his ugly countenance.

"Azcooze, my general," he said. His chief turned. "It is ze d.a.m.n ranger.

Zey is after us some more."

Lopez never turned a hair. Lucia heard him say: "It is time. I was agspectin' zem. Ze 'osses?"

"Zey are ready," Pedro informed him.

Pancho paused and considered a moment. "Zey come from ze souse, zose rangers?"

"_Si_," was the quick answer.

Lopez rose. "Felipe Aguilaw becomes more hefficient hevery day. I shall make general of 'im yet. _Bueno_, we go."

"Red" had gone over and looked out of the window. Twilight had definitely come, and the sky was a great sheet of flame. Orange, pink, purple, and red, the clouds s.h.i.+fted over the face of the dying sun. A king going down to his death could not have pa.s.sed in greater glory. While men and women fought their little battles, waged their puny quarrels, this stately miracle occurred once more. Unmindful of the grief of mortals, the day was about to pa.s.s into the arms of the waiting night.

"What's it all about?" "Red" asked, turning from the wonderful scene without to the frightened people within.

"It is ze ranger what chase me some more again," smiled Lopez. He seemed wholly unconcerned.

"Texas rangers after you?" asked "Red," startled.

"_Si!_" laughed Lopez.

"And you don't even get excited?"

"For why? It is not my habit. I give not a d.a.m.n for any man." He snapped his fingers, as though at life itself.

Two horses could be seen through the door. The men were bringing them up to their leader. "We should take our time--is no hurry." He took his big sombrero from the peg where he had put it long ago, and turned to Gilbert.

"Well, I go now. _Adios_, my frand."

"Wait a minute," the other tried to detain him. "You've killed him. You wouldn't go and leave things this way, would you?"

"As I say, no trouble for me," Lopez boyishly said, and smiled, shrugging his broad shoulders.

Gilbert was astonished. "Yes; but how about me?" he wanted to know, "You do not think of that."

The bandit turned, amazed. "What ze matter? Are you not satisfied? You all what you say: zit--zot--zet!" He pinched his fingers, and made a funny little noise.

"I can't think," said Gilbert, sitting down, one hand on his forehead.

"It's all so strange, so confusing to me. The world seems to be rocking beneath my feet. What does it all mean--this life we live for so brief a time? What does anything mean?"

Lopez came over to him and put his hand on his shoulder affectionately.

"You Americanos so queer," he said, "For why you waste time thinking? Are you not rich? 'Ave you not ze beautiful lady to love like 'ell yourself personal?"

Gilbert jumped up. He thought he would go mad if this sort of thing kept up. "Good G.o.d, man!" he cried. "After what you've done, you can talk like that?"

"What have I done?" inquired the bandit, blandly. "Well, _what_ I done?"

Gilbert looked at him in amazement. "You killed him! That's all."

Lopez smiled. "Sure!" He let the word loiter on his tongue. He pulled it out like so much mola.s.ses candy. "I killed him--sure. Was in ze way. What else could I do?"

"You've put a barrier between us. We're of a different brand, a different calibre. Don't you see?"

"Ees no way for pliz you. If I do not kill ze 'usband, ees all wrong. If I do kill ze 'usband, ees all wrong. Say," he looked at him in confusion, "what ze 'ell shall I do wiz ze d.a.m.n 'usband, anyway?" He puckered his brow.

"Oh, I don't know," Gilbert said in desperation. What was the use in arguing with this barbarian? Yes, he was a barbarian--nothing else. They were miles apart. Centuries of belief and training separated them.

"You don't know?" Lopez said. "Pretty soon you find out. It surprise you now. But pretty d.a.m.n soon when all shall go and leave you alone wiz 'er, you shall be sensible, too--like Mexican. To live is more strong as law.

Wait and see, my frand, wait and see!" He shook his head mysteriously.

Pedro stepped forward. "Here is a pistol," he said to his master in Spanish.