Читать книгу Port O' Gold - Louis J. Stellman - Страница 25

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Two riders, a man and a veiled woman evidently young, halted their horses in Portsmouth Square, where the former alighted and offered an arm to his companion. She, however, disdaining his assistance, sprang lightly from the saddle and, turning her back on him, gazed, motionless, toward the bay. There was something arresting and curiously dramatic about the whole performance, something that hinted of impending tragedy. The slight figure with its listless droop and stony immobility caught and clutched the sympathies of Nathan Spear as he was passing by. The man was Alec McTurpin; the girl, no doubt, some light o' love from a neighboring pueblo. Yet there was a disturbing familiarity about her.

Spear watched them go across the square toward the City Hotel, a long, one-story adobe structure built by Leidesdorff as a store and home. On the veranda stood the stocky figure of Proprietor Brown, smoking a long pipe and conversing with half a dozen roughly dressed men who lounged about the entrance. He looked up wonderingly as McTurpin approached. The latter drew him to one side and appeared to make certain demands to which Brown acquiesced by a curt nod, as if reluctant. Then the man and woman passed around a corner of the building, the loungers peering curiously after them.

A little later Spear observed the gambler issue forth alone and journey rapidly toward the landing dock. He noted that a strange ship rode at anchor. It must have come within the hour, he decided. Impelled by curiosity, he descended in McTurpin's wake.

"What ship is that?" he asked of Leidesdorff.

"I haven't learned her name. She's from the north coast with a lot of sick men. They've the scurvy and flux, I'm told. Dr. Jones has gone aboard."

"I wonder what McTurpin's doing at the ship?" said Spear. "He'll get no gambling victims out of ailing seamen."

"It's something else he wants, I fancy," said Bob Ridley, coming from the dock toward them. "He's looking for a preacher--"

"Preacher?" cried the other men in unison.

"Yes," responded Ridley. "Aleck's going to be married, the sly dog. And since the padres will have nothing to do with him, he's hard pressed. Perhaps the wench is a stickler for proprieties," he laughed. "Someone told him there was a sky pilot aboard the ship!"

Inez Windham removed her veil. She was in a small room, almost dark, where McTurpin had left her after locking the door on the outside. It was like a cell, with one small window high and narrow which let in a straggling transmitted light, dimming mercifully the crude outlines of a wooden stool, a bedstead of rough lumber, covered by soiled blankets, a box-like commode upon which stood a pitcher and basin of heavy crockery.

The walls were very thin. From beyond them, in what was evidently a public chamber, came snatches of talk interspersed with oaths, a click of poker chips and coin, now and then a song. An odor of rank tobacco seeped through the muslin-covered walls. With a sudden feeling of nausea, of complete despair, the girl threw herself face down upon the bed.

For a time Inez lay there, oblivious to all save the misery of her fate. If only her father had not gone with those northern engineers! If only Benito were here to advise her! Benito, her beloved brother, in whose path the gallows loomed. It was that picture which had caused her to yield to McTurpin. Even darker, now, was the picture of her own future. A gambler's wife! Her hand sought a jewelled dagger which she always carried in her coiffure. Her fingers closed about the hilt with a certain solace. After Benito was safe--

Voices in the next room caught her interest by a mention of the Santa Clara battle.

"Hull is fighting mad," she heard. "He promises to bring the greasers to their knees. It's unconditional surrender or no quarter, Brannan says."

"First catch your pig--then butcher it," said another, meaningly. "The Spaniards have the best of it thus far. Hull's shouting frantically for reinforcements. Well, he won't get me. I think the rancheros have their side as well as we. If this stiff-necked commander would listen to reason."

"He hasn't heard the other side," the first speaker resumed. "If he knew what Alcalde Bartlett had done to these poor devils through his horse and cattle raids--"

A third man laughed. "He'll never learn that, partner, have no fear; who'll tell him?"

"Well, here's to Uncle Sam," said a fourth voice. Followed a clink of glasses. Inez Windham sat up swiftly and dried her eyes. A daring thought had come to her.

Why should not she tell Commander Hull the truth!

She rose and smoothed her ruffled gown. A swift look from the window revealed that the road was clear. Inez began tugging at the door. It resisted her efforts, but she renewed the battle with all the fury of her youthful strength. Finally the flimsy lock gave a bit beneath her efforts; a narrow slit appeared between the door and jamb in which she forced her hands and thus secured a great purchase. Then, one foot against the wall, she tugged and pried and pulled until, with a sudden crack, the bar to liberty sprang open.

She was free.

Just across the Plaza the custom house looked down at her, the late sun glinting redly on its tiles. There, no doubt, she would find Commander Hull. She hastened forward.

"Not so fast, my dear!"

A hand fell on her shoulder rudely. With, a gasp she looked up at McTurpin.

Beside the gambler, whose eyes burned angrily, Inez perceived a tall, lean, bearded stranger.

"Let me go!" she demanded.

"I have brought the parson," said McTurpin. "We can be married at once."

"I--I--let us wait a little," stammered Inez.

"Why?" the gambler asked suspiciously. "Where were you going?"

"Nowhere," she evaded, "for a walk--"

"Well, you can walk back to the hotel, my lady," said McTurpin. "I have little time to waste. And there's Benito to consider," he concluded. Suddenly he put an arm about her waist and kissed her. Inez thought of her brother and tried to submit. But she could not repress a little cry of aversion, of fear. The bearded man stepped forward. "Hold up a bit, partner," he drawled. "This doesn't look quite regular. Don't you wish to marry him, young lady?"

"Of course she does," McTurpin blustered. "She rode all the way in from her mother's ranch to be my wife." He glared at Inez. "Isn't it true?" he flung at her. "Tell him."

She nodded her head miserably. But the stranger was not satisfied. "Let go of her," he said, and when McTurpin tailed to heed the order, sinewy fingers on the gambler's wrist enforced it.

"Now, tell me, Miss, what's wrong?" the bearded one invited. "Has this fellow some hold on you? Is he forcing you into this marriage?"

Again the girl nodded dumbly.

"She lies," said McTurpin, venomously, but the words were scarcely out of his mouth before the stranger's fist drove them back. McTurpin staggered. "Damn you!" he shouted, "I teach you to meddle between a man and his woman."

Inez saw something gleam in his hand as the two men sprang upon each other. She heard another blow, a groan. Screaming, she fled uphill toward the custom house.