Arizona -- Fiction; Love stories; Vendetta -- Fiction; Western stories
There was a day of anxious waiting when they sat and watched the
trails and then, in the twilight, Hall led Allifair up the chasm and
showed her how to bait and set his traps. He helped her gather acorns,
carried in a last load of wood and, late in the evening, they parted.
She was brave again now, though she still hoped he would relent; but
the traditions of a lifetime were behind his resolve and he left her
without a tremor. Even his last kiss seemed cold, as if his mind had
leapt ahead and was held by the grim task before him; and his voice,
when he spoke, had the sternness of an ascetic who has banished all
weakness from his life.
"I must go," he said, "and fight this out with Isham, and they will
hunt me through the hills like a wild animal. And your part is to stay,
like a wild animal, too, hidden away where no one can find you. But
this is our last trial, and when I come back I hope it will be with
honor."
He left her then suddenly, before she could answer, and glided away
into the darkness; and Allifair clutched the pistol, which he had given
her for her safety, and returned to the eagles' nest alone. She was
like an eagle now that has lost its chosen mate, and its power to fly
as well; and if he did not come back she would be more than lost, for
the world would be empty without him. Yet what he said was true--it was
her part to wait; the rest was in the hands of God.
As for Hall he rode forth cautiously, scouting around above the
Basin; until at last it came over him that the Scarboroughs had taken
cover--they were shut up within the Rock House. Around the bunk-house
and corrals the Texas gunmen swarmed like flies; but they did not ride
abroad, not even to the store--except when some one had called. Then
they rode over in threes and fours, probably to get the latest news
as it was retailed by the inquisitive store-keeper. After that he
moved more freely and on the fourth day he sighted Meshackatee riding
south at the head of a posse. But this was no posse of three or four
fugitives, scouting anxiously around through the hills; it numbered
ten fighting men, and they rode down by the main trail from the north.
Winchester Bassett was still with him and Grimes, the sheepman; the
others were strangers to Hall.
"Hello!" hailed Meshackatee, when Hall showed himself above them. "Come
down and tell us what you know."
They halted on the trail and after Hall had shaken hands Meshackatee
drew him aside.
"Where you been?" he said. "Still gunning for Isham? Well, we've got
him holed up like a fox. Grimes came down here last week with a
bunch of Latter Day Saints; and we busted him, by grab, over night.
Or at least, Grimes did--I wasn't in on the deal--not officially. It
was a dirty job, anyway--they hung that little kid that we caught up
Horse-thief Canyon. No, not the one that cried--that nervy little
devil that stood up and told us where to go to. He was too damned
nervy--that's the trouble."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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