The Round-Up: A Romance of Arizona; Novelized from Edmund Day's Melodrama
John Stuart Mill · en
"What are you saying?" cried Dick, trying to fathom the riddle.
"You've come back too late, Dick," sadly explained Allen.
"Too late," echoed Dick. "There's something back of all this. I'll see
her now."
He started to enter the door, but Allen restrained him. "You can't go
in," he shouted to the excited man, and pushed him down the steps. It
was an easy task for him for Dick was too weak to offer much
resistance. "No, you won't," he gently told him. His heart bled for
the poor fellow, whom he loved almost as a son, but Echo's happiness
was at stake, and explanations could come later. More to emphasize his
earnestness than to indicate intention to shoot, he laid his hand on
the butt of his revolver, saying: "Not if I have to kill you."
Dick began to realize that whatever was wrong was of the greatest
consequence. It was a shock to him to have his oldest, his best friend
in the West treat him in this fashion.
"Jim!" he cried in his anguish.
"You've got to go back where you came from, Dick," sternly answered the
ranchman. "If ever you loved my daughter, now's your chance to prove
it--she must never know you're livin--"
"But--"
"It's a whole lot I'm askin' of you, Dick," continued Allen. "But if
you love her, as I think you do, it may be a drop of comfort in your
heart to know that by doin' this great thing for her, you'll be makin'
her life better and happier."
"I do love her," cried Dick passionately; "but there must be some
reason--tell me."
Allen held up his hand to warn Dick to be silent. He beckoned him to
follow him. Slowly he led him to the door, and, partly opening it,
motioned him to listen.
"Forasmuch as John Payson and Echo Allen have consented together in
holy wedlock" were the words that fell upon his ears.
As the doomed man stands, motionless, before his judges, and hears his
death-sentence read without a tremor, ofttimes thinking of some trifle,
so Dick stood for a moment. At first he did not fully realize what it
all meant. Then the full depth of his betrayal flooded him. "What?"
he cried. "Payson!" Allen held him back.
Again the minister's voice fell upon their ears repeating the solemn
words. "And have declared the same before God and in the presence of
these witnesses, I pronounce them husband and wife. What God hath
joined together, let no man put asunder."
Dick, shaken and hurt, slowly sank to his knees, covering his face with
his hands. A dry sob shook his frame. Here was the end of all his
hopes. Here was the sad reward for years of toil and waiting.
"Now you know why you can't stay here," said Allen, his tones full of
pity.
"Now I know."
Dick staggered to his feet, and started blindly from the house.
"Dick!" cried Allen, in a broken voice, "forgive me. She's my child,
she loves him now."
The betrayed friend took his hand without looking at him. In vain he
tried to hide his deep emotion. "I know," he faltered, "I'll never
trouble her. I'll go away never to return."