Читать книгу The Sweep Winner - Gould Nat - Страница 6

Glen asked no questions. If Jim Benny had shot Calder he must have had good reason for it. He waited to hear if he would say more.

"Do you want to know why?" asked Jim.

"Please yourself."

Jim pulled off his shirt, or tried to. It stuck.

"The water," he said faintly.

Glen gave him a damp cloth. Jim bathed the shirt, near his breast. For the first time Glen noticed a deep red mark.

"That's better," said Jim, as he felt the shirt give, and pulled it off. Then he went on, "He did that with his knife, and I shot him."

"It served him right," returned Glen.

"We quarrelled, not for the first time. He said brutal things to me, and called me names no man would stand, so I struck him between the eyes. He whipped out his knife, and I had it before I could think. I pulled my revolver from my belt, and shot him through the heart. He fell like a log. I left him there. I never even looked at him, but came on here."

"Why did you come here?"

"Because I thought I could depend upon you, and you would give me good advice. I didn't tell you at first, because of her. One thing at a time's enough."

"You can depend upon me. I'll help you if there's trouble, but no one knows you shot him, and there'll not be much fuss made over him," declared Glen.

The woman opened her eyes, and looked at them. Then a faint smile spread over her face.

"Are you better?" asked Glen.

No answer.

"Do you feel stronger, my lass?"

She pressed her hand over her forehead feebly, and a vacant look came into her eyes.

"She's weak. She's had no food. Warm some of that milk, Jim."

When it was ready Glen gave it to her with a spoon. She took it greedily. In a few minutes she dozed again.

"Her head's sure to be bad for a time," said Glen.

There was a brief silence, then Jim said, "While you were away I did something."

"What?"

"I kissed her on the lips. I couldn't help it. Something prompted me."

Glen started. For a moment he felt angry, then muttered, "When you were outside I kissed her on the forehead."

These kisses were characteristic of the men and showed the difference between them.

They said no more about it. Both thought it strange, and the subject dropped.

The woman progressed slowly but surely. As she recovered some strength they found her memory had gone; she did not know her name, or where she came from. She appeared to imagine she had been there all her life.

Bill Bigs arrived in his buggy, and did not come empty-handed; there was an ample supply stowed away in the back.

"That's her, eh?" he asked.

"Yes. Do you believe me now?" replied Glen smiling.

"I believed you before, but I wanted to see her. I say, Glen, she'll be a grand-looking woman when she's picked up and filled out a bit. Where the deuce did she come from? It's miles away from everywhere here," said Bill.

"It'll be hard to find out. She's lost her memory; she fancies she's been here all her days, but she's sane enough. She'll talk all right in a bit," replied Glen.

"Jim Benny!" exclaimed Bill.

"He's been here ever since she came. It was funny he should turn up almost at the same time."

Jim came into the hut and greeted Bill.

"I never expected to see you here," exclaimed the latter.

"He came to consult me. We're going to throw it up," Glen told him.

"Throw what up?"

"The fence. We've done with it; we're sick of the whole thing. It's too much for flesh and blood to stand."

Bill stared.

"Going!" he cried. "Why you're the best man on the job."

"Am I?" answered Glen. "I'm glad to hear someone has a good opinion of me."

"I always had," pursued Bill. "I'm not surprised. I've often wondered why you came. I remember the first time I saw you in Boonara. I thought you'd dropped from the clouds. Have you sent in your resignation?"

"No. What does it matter. Let 'em find out. You can drop a line to the overseer when we're gone."

"And the fence?" asked Bill "We don't want those cursed rabbits to get through to our side."

"There are plenty to look after it; men are always disappearing. There are good and bad among us. Some fellows are there fighting down the drink curse. I don't blame 'em; it's their only chance. I know two of 'em, good men in their way, but I can tell how it would be with them if they went back to a town life. They'd go under quick. I've been in many a jag myself, but that's not why I came out. I can stifle it; it's only a matter of will," declared Glen.

"I don't know so much about that. I've had a lot of experience in that line. Some of the poor beggars can't help themselves," said Bill, and then added, "They've buried Calder. There'll be no inquiry. Most people think he shot himself. Anyhow we've shovelled him away in Boonara. If any trouble is made they can dig him up again and call him as witness. He's the only one who could give evidence. All your fellows are glad he's gone."

Jim listened in silence, with a feeling of relief; he did not in the least regret what he had done. He regarded it as a righteous act.

The woman sat up. When she saw Bill she asked, "When did he come?"

This was almost the first sentence she had spoken correctly. Hitherto her words had come disjointedly – in jerks.

"Me, my lass? I've just dropped in to see my friend, Glen. He told me you were here."

"I've been here a long time. Oh, such a long time. I must have been sleeping for weeks. I've forgotten which is Glen," she answered.

"I'm Glen – Glen Leigh," he said as he placed his hand on her shoulder.

"How silly of me that I didn't remember, but I shall not forget again. You have been very good to me. Have I been very ill?"

"Yes, for a long time," replied Glen humouring her.

She looked at Jim, and Glen said, "He's Jim Benny, another good friend. And that's Bill Bigs, one of the best of friends. We're all going to look after you."

She smiled.

"Do I want looking after?"

"You'll not be too strong for a good while yet," replied Glen. "When you are strong we're going away from here."

She looked at him wonderingly.

"Going away from home?" she asked.

"You'll want a change when you get stronger."

This put a different complexion on the matter, and she smiled again, nodded, and lay down once more.

"That's the first attempt at conversation she's made," said Glen. "We're getting on."

"You boys – where are you going when you leave here?" asked Bill suddenly.

Glen did not hesitate.

"Sydney," he answered.

Bill remained silent a few minutes, then said slowly, as though still thinking it out, "Sydney! I've a good mind to go with you, I'm sick of Boonara. It's the last place that was ever put up on this earth."

Glen jumped up from his seat, so did Jim. They took a hand each and almost pulled Bill's arms off.

"Do it!" cried Glen. "Do it! We want you. If the three can't make headway in Sydney we're not the men I fancy we are."

"Yes, come with us," put in Jim heartily.

"Stop, you fellows, stop," said Bill. "It's easier said than done. I'll tell you something. I've had an offer for my shanty, a damned good offer, more than it's worth. I can't think why he's made it, or where he's got the money from. I never knew Craig Bellshaw to give much money away, and I don't see where else it could have come from."

"Craig Bellshaw!" exclaimed Glen in surprise, "has he made a bid for it?"

"Not likely. What'd he want with a place like mine? It's Garry Backham, Bellshaw's overseer. He came into my place and wanted to know if I'd sell out. He said he wanted the place and was tired of Mintaro. I was never more surprised in my life. You could have pushed me over with a blade of grass."

"I met him several times. He seems a taciturn sort of man, sullen, bad tempered – not one of my sort," said Glen.

"I fancy he's had a roughish time at Mintaro," Bill surmised, "but he must have saved money. Bellshaw wouldn't lend it him in hundreds."

"He was a pal of Calder's; about the only one he had," Jim remarked.

"I never knew that," said Bill.

"They used to meet on the track, and talk and smoke. He bought Calder drink at times," explained Jim.

"Birds of a feather," said Glen.

"He made no fuss about Calder being shot," Bill commented.

"It was no use. He's dead and gone, and there's no proof that he was shot; he probably did it himself as you have said," decided Glen.

The woman stirred, murmuring some words in her sleep; with a start she sat up, stared at the group, stretched out her arms, and in a pleading voice uttered the one word, "Come."