The Delafield Affair Part 13

When Lucy joined him a little later her face showed signs of tears, and as they walked back she was preoccupied and perturbed. She wished to see her father, so Curtis left her at the door of the bank.

"Daddy!" Lucy exclaimed as she rushed to his side, her eyes s.h.i.+ning and her face aglow. "Oh, daddy, Senora Melgares has just told me the strangest thing! Mr. Conrad was with me, but he went out because she cried so, and he didn't hear what she said. I tried to quiet and comfort her, and finally she told me that her husband had been persuaded and paid to steal Mr. Conrad's horse by a man who said he wanted to get even with him for something. She told me his name--you and Mr. Tillinghurst and Judge Banks were talking about him the other day--Mr. Jenkins--Don Rutherford Jenkins, she called him."

Antic.i.p.ation warmed Bancroft's heart as she spoke. If the story was true it might give him just the hold on Jenkins that he wanted. He made her repeat the details of her conversation with the Mexican woman. "Did you say anything about it to Conrad?" he asked in conclusion.

"No, daddy; I thought I ought to tell you about it first."

"Quite right, Lucy. You were very prudent. And don't mention it now, to him or to anybody."

"No, of course not. But, daddy, won't that make it better for poor Jose Maria? Mr. Jenkins is the one that ought to be punished--he and Mr.

Baxter; and poor ignorant Melgares ought to be let off very easily.

Don't you think so, daddy?"

One of her hands rested on his shoulder. He took the other in both of his as he smiled at her indulgently. Her news had so heartened him that he hardly noticed her connection of Baxter with the affair. "I don't know about that, daughter. It isn't likely to have any effect, because his indictment is for murder--you know he killed Gaines while resisting arrest--and his motive in stealing the horse has no connection with that crime. I'm glad you told me about it, dear. I'll talk with Melgares myself, and see what can be done. I suppose his wife must be having a hard time. You might give her some money. And ask her," he said as he handed Lucy some bills, "not to speak about this Jenkins matter to any one else. Be sure you impress that upon her. It's a pretty bad case, but you can tell his wife that everything possible will be done for him.

Dell Baxter is coming down to undertake his defence; he does it for nothing. So you mustn't think so badly of him hereafter, when you see how willing he is to make what amends he can to the poor fellow."

Lucy threw her arms about his neck and kissed his forehead. "Daddy, you're awfully good and kind--the best man in the world! About Mr.

Baxter, though--" she paused to toss her head, and a little sparkle shone in her eyes--"well, I'm glad he has the decency to do it, but it's no more than he ought; and before I think much better of him I'll wait to see if he drives any more of the poor Mexicans out of their homes."

Bancroft began to plan hopefully. He would see Melgares and get the exact facts. If this story was true it would be just the sword he needed to hang over Jenkins. Evidently he had told Conrad nothing; therefore that check must have been campaign money from Ned Castleton to be used for the benefit of Martinez. Jenkins would not be likely to talk: it would ruin his chance of making money out of it himself. As for Curtis--perhaps, after all, he would not be unreasonable about the offer to make rest.i.tution. Another check would reach him soon, with a.s.surance of more to follow speedily. Surely the man was too sensible to cast aside such a start in life as this money would give him, just to carry out a crazy notion that would end in his own ruin.

"But if he will go on, he'll have n.o.body but himself to blame for whatever happens," he thought. "I've given him fair warning."

The encouragement he felt turned his thoughts toward Louise Dent. In the intimacy of their daily life since she had been Lucy's visitor he had found her ever more lovable. He began to think, as he looked into her eyes and felt the restrained sweetness of her manner, that when he should be free to speak she would welcome his feeling, and have for it an intoxicating return. But he could say nothing until the settlement of this affair left no further danger of discovery and disgrace.

"She must not know--neither she nor Lucy shall know--never--never a word or hint," he thought desperately. True, Louise was not so unsparing in her moral judgments as Lucy; she was older, and, with more knowledge of the world, had more tolerance for the conditions under which men lived and worked. But if all that past, the past that he had believed buried beyond resurrection, should suddenly confront him, she and Lucy would be horrified. They would despise him. The respect, honor, and love for which he hungered would die; if they stayed beside him it would only be for compa.s.sion's sake. In the fierce mood that possessed him as he thought of going down again into dishonor he was ready to strike out at anybody's pity. This thing must not be. He had won his way back to position, power, affluence; he held the love and honor of his daughter and of the woman he hoped to make his wife; what he had won he would keep. His lips whitened as he struck the desk with his clenched fist.

"The past is dead, and it's got to stay dead," he muttered. "I'll win out yet, by G.o.d!"

CHAPTER XIII

THE SECOND SHOT

Four days later the physician gave Conrad dubious permission to return to the round-up. "Well, I may as well say you can go," he surrendered, "since you are determined to go anyway. But don't blame me if your wounds get worse."

Most of this time the cattleman spent at the Bancrofts', where Lucy and Miss Dent tried to make an invalid of him, and all three enjoyed the comrades.h.i.+p that straightway sprang up among them. Between Lucy and Curtis there was much bantering gayety, but when alone their talk was sure to flow into serious channels. They had many long conversations, wherein each was deeply interested in everything the other said. They had much music also, Miss Dent playing and the others singing duets.

Lucy was very happy. She beamed and sparkled, with glowing eyes and dimpling smiles, and her manner, the whole being of her, expanded into maturer womanliness. Between Miss Dent and Conrad there was from the first a mutual liking, which quickly developed into confidential friends.h.i.+p. On his last day in town, while helping Lucy water the plants in her conservatory, he spoke to her admiringly of Miss Dent.

"I'm so glad you like my Dearie!" she responded warmly, looking up at him with a glow of pleasure. "She's the dearest, sweetest woman! And you always feel you can depend on her. If you put your hand out you always know just where you can find Louise Dent, and you know she'll be as firm as a rock. She's been so good to me! And she's always so restful and calm--she has so much poise. But, do you know--" she hesitated as she stopped in front of the cage that held the tanager Curtis had brought for her care. His physician had splinted its broken leg and bound its injured wing, and together they were anxiously watching its recovery.

"It's been eating, Mr. Conrad!" she broke off joyously. "Let's give it more seeds and fresh water!" As they ministered to the bird's needs Curtis went on about Miss Dent.

"Yes; she seems to have a calm sort of nature, but when I look at her I find myself wondering if that is because she has never been moved very deeply, or because she keeps things hidden deep down. Her eyes are set rather close together, which generally means, you know, an ability to get on the prod if necessary; and sometimes there is a look in them that makes you feel as if she might break out into something unexpected."

Lucy was looking up at him with the keenest interest in her face. The southwestern sun had kissed her skin into rich browns and reds, and she carried gracefully her slender girlish figure. Her head, with its covering of short brown curls, always held alertly, gave to her aspect a savor of piquant charm. Curtis looked down into her upturned face and eager eyes with admiration in his own. Under her absorption in the subject of their talk she felt herself thrill with sweet, vague happiness.

"Do you know, I've been feeling that very same thing about Dearie," she said in confidential tones. "She seems more restless lately, although I know she's perfectly happy here with us. She has just the same quiet, gentle manner, but it seems as if there might be a volcano under it--not really, you know, but as if there might be if--if--I don't quite know how to say it--if things just got ready for it to be a volcano!"

"Do you think anybody would know it," asked Conrad, "even if it was really there?"

"I know what you mean--yes, she has wonderful self-control--I never saw anybody who could hide her feelings as she can, and always does. I've been thinking lately that if Dearie were in love--" Lucy hesitated a moment while a deeper glow stained her cheek--"she's just the sort of woman to do anything, anything at all, for the sake of it."

"Yes; and not get excited over it, either," added Curtis.

When Lucy went to attend to some household duties, Conrad sauntered out to the veranda, where he found Miss Dent with her sewing. He happened to refer to his boyhood; and she asked some questions that led him to speak of his youthful struggles. She was interested, and wanted to know the cause of his father's financial ruin. He hesitated before replying, the matter touched so nearly the secret core of his life and thought. Few, even among his intimates, knew anything about the vengeful purpose that had motived half his life, and he disliked ordinarily to say anything about the cause of his early misfortunes. But the habit of close and friendly speech into which he and Louise had fallen, coupled perhaps with a softening of feeling toward her s.e.x that had been going on within him, moved him to openness. "It won't matter," he thought. "She's such a level-headed woman; and I've told Aleck already."

"I don't often speak about it," he said, "but I don't mind telling you, for you are such a good friend of the Bancrofts, and Aleck knows the story. Of course, you'll understand that I don't care to have it discussed generally. My father's disasters all came from his getting caught in a specious financial scheme engineered by one Sumner L.

Delafield of Boston."

An indrawn breath, sharp and sudden, made him look quickly at his companion. "Have you hurt yourself?" he asked solicitously.

"Oh, I jabbed my needle under my thumb nail. Such an awkward thing to do! It gave me a little shock, that's all. Go on, please. What sort of a scheme was it?"

He told her briefly the story of his father's ruin and death, and outlined the transactions that led to Delafield's failure. As he spoke his heart waxed hot against the man who had caused the tragedy, as it always did when he thought long upon the subject, and he went on impulsively to tell her of his long-cherished purpose of revenge. She listened with drooped eyelids, and when she spoke, at his first pause, there was a slight quaver in her voice.

"You don't mean that you really intend to kill the man?"

"I do, that very thing. What's more, it's my notion that killing is too gentle for his deserts. For, of course, my case is only one out of many.

And any man who would deliberately bring ruin and death into so many households--don't you think yourself he's worse than any murderer?"

She forced herself to raise her eyes and, once she had met his gaze, her own was cool and steady. But if Curtis had not been so absorbed in their discussion he might have seen that her face was paler than usual and her manner nervous, as she replied earnestly:

"But you forget, Mr. Conrad, that the man had no intention of doing these things, and that probably he involved himself in as much financial disaster as he did others. I've heard of the case before; I knew some people once who--were concerned in it--who lost money by it--and I've always understood that the failure was due more to Delafield's sanguine temperament and over-confidence in his plans than to any deliberate wrongdoing. Don't you think, Mr. Conrad, that killing is a rather severe punishment for mistakes of judgment?"

He answered with the rapid speech and quick gestures he was wont to use when under the stress of strong feeling. "I can't take that lenient view of the case, Miss Dent. My conviction is that he got some money out of the affair, though not as much as he is generally supposed to have taken, and ran away with it. I've studied the case pretty thoroughly, and I've trailed him along from one place to another for years. I'm hot on his tracks now; and he knows it. I've followed him into New Mexico, and I know he's somebody in this Territory, prosperous and respectable.

He can't escape me much longer."

She had been thinking intently as she studied the expression of his face. "It's not worth while to try argument or persuasion with him; opposition would only make him obstinate," was her conclusion. Her manner was as composed as usual, and only her eyes showed a trace of anxiety as she spoke, slowly and thoughtfully, her gaze searching his countenance:

"Well, if you say you are going to take revenge upon him in this savage way I suppose you will do it--if that chin of yours means anything. You haven't asked my opinion, but I'm going to tell you anyway that it seems to me unwise and unjust and most unworthy of you to allow such an idea to become the obsession that this one has. But I want to know how you managed to keep your family together. That was a wonderful thing for a boy of fifteen to do."

"Oh, I don't deserve so much credit for it. Of course, I couldn't have done it without help. Our guardian wanted to distribute us children around among the relatives; but I wouldn't have it that way, and begged so hard that at last he gave in. Two of my father's cousins lent money enough to pay off the mortgage on our home, on our guardian's representation that he should be able to save enough out of the wreck to pay it back in time. He did so; and we children kept a roof over our heads.

"A cousin of my mother's, a widow without children, offered to live with us and keep house. We rented part of the place and lived in close quarters in what was left. I worked like a Turk at anything and everything that brought in a penny; and so, all together, we had enough to eat and wear, and I was able to keep the girls and Homer in school. I went to night school and sat up reading anything I could get my hands on when I ought to have been in bed. It was hard sledding sometimes, but we pulled through. And I had good friends who saw that I was never out of a job of some sort.

"After a while our cousin married again and left us; but by that time my sisters were old enough to take charge of the housekeeping, and we got on very well. Ten years ago they both married, and I said to Homer: 'Let's sell the house and give the money to the girls; you and I can s.h.i.+ft for ourselves, and we don't want them to go to their husbands with nothing at all.' The kid was game, and so we sold the place and divided the money between Helen and Jeannette. Then I put Homer in school and struck out for myself. I've sent him to college, and he'll be graduated next year. But he's worked right along, and helped himself a heap.

There's sure good stuff in the lad.

"This Summer I'm not going to let him work; the rest of the way is clear enough now, and I want him to come down here with me, and learn to rope a steer and bust a bronco and go camping, and have a good out-doors time of it for his last college vacation."

As she listened with her eyes fixed upon his face, Miss Dent's attention had been half upon his story and half upon the man behind it, searching out his character through his words. The conviction settled in her mind that his vengeful intention was rooted deep, and that the more he talked of it the more set would he become in his purpose.

"I like your story," she said. "It is one of those tales of human effort that make one have more faith in human nature. But the climax you intend to put upon it is--horrible!" He noticed the slight movement of repulsion with which she spoke the word. "But that's your affair," she went on. "Did I understand you--did you say--" In spite of her self-control she was stumbling over the question. She masked her momentary confusion with an absorbed interest in getting her sewing together. "Did you say that Mr. Bancroft knows--that you have told him this story?"

"Yes; I told him the outlines of it a little while ago, apropos of a check I had from Delafield. The rascal thinks he can buy me off that way. That shows he's buffaloed. But he'll find out I'm not that sort."