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I'll be damned. Then it was him. He left the whiskey in that ol' wagon
apurpose. Got 'em all drunk. Except me, nobody needed to get me drunk. I'd of
been down there whether the rest come or no. That woman and the girl yonder,
they passed me by like I was dirt. I figured to show 'em."
His gun swung up, but Trevallion had been waiting for it. The swinging barrel
of his own pistol caught Waggoner's wrist halfway, and the gun went spinning
into a corner. Stepping over, always facing Waggoner, Trevallion scooped up
the pistol with his left hand. He stepped back into the doorway.
"You haven't got much time, Waggoner. I'd spend it trying to make peace with
the Lord. If by some chance you should live, you'll hang."
He stepped out and pulled the door shut.
At the edge of the stage he paused to reload his pistol and thrust it behind
his belt. Waggoner's gun he put behind his belt at the small of his back. He
slid out ofhiscoat. "Your dress is torn. You'd better wear this into the
hotel." He put his hand on her arm. "Are you all right? Not feeling faint?"
"Shaky," she admitted, "but I'll be all right." She turned to face him. "If
I'd had anything to fight with, I might have whipped him. I had no idea I
could do that well!"
He laughed. "Let's go," he said gently, "you need some rest. You did all
right."
The reaction was setting in, and she was trembling. He put his arm around
her. "It's only a little way," he said.
She clung to his arm. "Val, I was so frightened! He's so, so evil!"
"Not any more."
"You he will die?"
"Yes."
Ledbetter was coming up the walk. "You all right? I heard shooting."
"It was Waggoner. He's back yonder in the theater. He's in bad shape, and by
now the shock is wearing off, and he's beginning to feel it."
"We had some shooting, too. In the hotel, I mean. Albert Hesketh is dead."
"Dead?"
"Jacob Teale was in his room, waitin' for him. When Hesketh came in, he
killed him."
"Just like that?"
"Well, not exactly. Teale was in bad shape. How he even got over to the hotel
from the hospital is hard to figure, but he done it.
"Hesketh must have been full of his own thoughts because he came in, hung his
coat over a chair-back, and went to the sideboard for a drink. He must have
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been upset by something, because he wasn't a drinking man. He must have looked
up from his glass and glimpsed Teale asettin' there with his rifle."
Hesketh had been quick. The instant his eyes fell on Teale, he knew what
Teale was there for. He turned around. "Jacob Teale! Just the man I need! How
would you like to make ten thousand dollars?"
"When I was a youngster," Teale said, "a snake got into our rabbit hutch
where I had baby rabbits. You're like that snake."
"Ten thousand dollars!" Hesketh said. "I might even raise the ante a little
because you're the kind of man I can use."
Jacob Teale lifted his rifle. At that distance there was no need to aim.
Hesketh saw it, choked with horror and fear; he saw the long rifle pointed at
him, right at his belly. "No." he pleaded. "Not me! You don't understand! You
can't "
Teale shot him.
The blow of the heavy lead bullet slammed him back into the sideboard. Some
glasses fell and a bottle uncorked by Hesketh rolled to the floor, spilling
some of its contents.
"No! Please! You don't... don't..." He started forward and fell against the
table, sliding off it to the floor. He started to crawl toward Teale. "This is
wrong!" he whispered hoarsely. "It'swrong!Notme!"
He started to get up, his waistcoat saturated with blood. He pushed himself
up from the floor, and Teale shot him again.
He was sitting there like that when the door burst open, and people rushed
into the room. Hesketh was dead, lying at Teale's feet.
LX
ONLY JOHN SANTLEY stood at the graveside when Albert Hesketh was laid to
rest.
"I never liked him," he told Ledbetter, "but he was my employer."
"What about his piece of the Solomon?"
"He left no will. I don't believe he ever expected to die. Once I mentioned a
will to him, and he just gave me a blank, unbelieving kind of stare.
"He had parents, I believe, but he did not write to them. With a search they
might be found, and of course, they must be. There will be dividends."
Trevallion was waiting at the foot of the stairs as Margrita descended. He
held out his hand to her. "You are like a princess," he said, "you have the
grand manner."
She smiled. "Of course. Don't forget, Mr. Trevallion, that I am an actress.
An actress or an actor is taught to play roles, and do it in a very convincing
manner. But because a man plays a king superbly well does not mean that he
would make a good king. The chances are he would make a very bad one.
"We all have learned to smile on cue, to be sincere when it is necessary, and
to be most convincing at whatever we do. We are a lot of children playing
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games for grown-ups."
He drew back her chair for her, then sat down opposite. "I really don't
believe that of you," he said.
'To tell you the truth, I'm not much of an actress either, although I believe
acting comes more naturally to women than to men. Most little girls begin
acting as soon as they are aware of anything at all."
"Well, you've a new role. You own a mine, and a very rich one. It needs to be
managed."
"I know nothing of mining. I never so much as saw a mine until we went to the
Solomon, and that's something I'd rather forget."
"You're doing very well with your theatrical company, and you can do just as
well with the mine. The secret is to hire the right people, and learn enough
to know what they're talking about.
"Will Crockett paid me to do a quick study of his mine, and I drew up a
tentative plan for its development which I never got a chance to discuss with
him. You can have that plan, and if you wish I'll help you find a good man to
operate it, somebody who knows men as well as ore."
"Val? If you can find the time, would you do it for me? I've problems enough
with my company. Maguire has finished building his opera house, and it's
simply beautiful. I'd love to work there, and I must discuss it with him."
She glanced toward the door. "Here comes Bill Stewart."
Trevallion gestured to a chair. "Join us, Bill. What's happening? You've met
Margrita?"
"Yes, I have." He grinned. "But I met her too late."
He was a tall, strongly made young man. With a quick glance around, he said,
"Trev, I need your help."
He ordered a drink, and when the waiter had gone, he said, "I've never
forgotten how you came to court when Sam Brown came to make trouble."
"You certainly needed no help."
"The point is that you were there, and I might have. I might have. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]