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"No. I could have run off lots of times. But I was afraid. I'd only have
fallen into worse hands. Euchre has told me that. Mrs. Bland beats me, half
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starves me, but she has kept me from her husband and these other dogs. She's
been as good as that, and I'm grateful. She hasn't done it for love of me,
though. She always hated me. And lately she's growing jealous. There was' a
man came here by the name of Spence so he called himself. He tried to be kind
to me. But she wouldn't let him. She was in love with him. She's a bad woman.
Bland finally shot Spence, and that ended that. She's been jealous ever since.
I hear her fighting with Bland about me. She swears she'll kill me before he
gets me. And Bland laughs in her face. Then I've heard Chess Alloway try to
persuade Bland to give me to him. But Bland doesn't laugh then. Just lately
before Bland went away things almost came to a head. I couldn't sleep. I
wished Mrs. Bland would kill me. I'll certainly kill myself if they ruin me.
Duane, you must be quick if you'd save me."
"I realize that," replied he, thoughtfully. "I think my difficulty will be
to fool Mrs. Bland. If she suspected me she'd have the whole gang of outlaws
on me at once."
"She would that. You've got to be careful and quick."
"What kind of woman is she?" inquired Duane.
"She's she's brazen. I've heard her with her lovers. They get drunk
sometimes when Bland's away. She's got a terrible temper. She's vain. She
likes flattery. Oh, you could fool her easy enough if you'd lower yourself
to to "
"To make love to her?" interrupted Duane.
Jennie bravely turned shamed eyes to meet his.
"My girl, I'd do worse than that to get you away from here," he said,
bluntly.
"But Duane," she faltered, and again she put out the appealing hand. "Bland
will kill you."
Duane made no reply to this. He was trying to still a rising strange tumult
in his breast. The old emotion the rush of an instinct to kill! He turned cold
all over.
"Chess Alloway will kill you if Bland doesn't," went on Jennie, with her
tragic eyes on Duane's.
"Maybe he will," replied Duane. It was difficult for him to force a smile.
But he achieved one.
"Oh, better take me off at once," she said. "Save me without risking so
much without making love to Mrs. Bland!"
"Surely, if I can. There! I see Euchre coming with a woman."
"That's her. Oh, she mustn't see me with you."
"Wait a moment," whispered Duane, as Jennie slipped indoors. "We've settled
it. Don't forget. I'll find some way to get word to you, perhaps through
Euchre. Meanwhile keep up your courage. Remember I'll save you somehow. We'll
try strategy first. Whatever you see or hear me do, don't think less of me "
Jennie checked him with a gesture and a wonderful gray flash of eyes.
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"I'll bless you with every drop of blood in my heart," she whispered,
passionately.
It was only as she turned away into the room that Duane saw she was lame and
that she wore Mexican sandals over bare feet.
He sat down upon a bench on the porch and directed his attention to the
approaching couple. The trees of the grove were thick enough for him to make
reasonably sure that Mrs. Bland had not seen him talking to Jennie. When the
outlaw's wife drew near Duane saw that she was a tall, strong, full-bodied
woman, rather good-looking with a fullblown, bold attractiveness. Duane was
more concerned with her expression than with her good looks; and as she
appeared unsuspicious he felt relieved. The situation then took on a singular
zest.
Euchre came up on the porch and awkwardly introduced Duane to Mrs. Bland.
She was young, probably not over twenty-five, and not quite so prepossessing
at close range. Her eyes were large, rather prominent, and brown in color. Her
mouth, too, was large, with the lips full, and she had white teeth.
Duane took her proffered hand and remarked frankly that he was glad to meet
her.
Mrs. Bland appeared pleased; and her laugh, which followed, was loud and
rather musical.
"Mr. Duane Buck Duane, Euchre said, didn't he?" she asked.
"Buckley," corrected Duane. "The nickname's not of my choosing."
"I'm certainly glad to meet you, Buckley Duane," she said, as she took the
seat Duane offered her. "Sorry to have been out. Kid Fuller's lying over at
Deger's. You know he was shot last night. He's got fever to-day. When Bland's
away I have to nurse all these shot-up boys, and it sure takes my time. Have
you been waiting here alone? Didn't see that slattern girl of mine?"
She gave him a sharp glance. The woman had an extraordinary play of feature,
Duane thought, and unless she was smiling was not pretty at all.
"I've been alone," replied Duane. "Haven't seen anybody but a sick-looking
girl with a bucket. And she ran when she saw me."
"That was Jen," said Mrs. Bland. "She's the kid we keep here, and she sure
hardly pays her keep. Did Euchre tell you about her?"
"Now that I think of it, he did say something or other."
"What did he tell you about me?" bluntly asked Mrs. Bland.
"Wal, Kate," replied Euchre, speaking for himself, "you needn't worry none,
for I told Buck nothin' but compliments."
Evidently the outlaw's wife liked Euchre, for her keen glance rested with
amusement upon him.
"As for Jen, I'll tell you her story some day," went on the woman. "It's a
common enough story along this river. Euchre here is a tender-hearted old
fool, and Jen has taken him in."
"Wal, seein' as you've got me figgered correct," replied Euchre, dryly,
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"I'll go in an' talk to Jennie if I may."
"Certainly. Go ahead. Jen calls you her best friend," said Mrs. Bland,
amiably. "You're always fetching some Mexican stuff, and that's why, I guess."
When Euchre had shuffled into the house Mrs. Bland turned to Duane with
curiosity and interest in her gaze.
"Bland told me about you."
"What did he say?" queried Duane, in pretended alarm.
"Oh, you needn't think he's done you dirt Bland's not that kind of a man. He
said: 'Kate, there's a young fellow in camp rode in here on the dodge. He's no
criminal, and he refused to join my band. Wish he would. Slickest hand with a
gun I've seen for many a day! I'd like to see him and Chess meet out there in
the road.' Then Bland went on to tell how you and Bosomer came together."
"What did you say?" inquired Duane, as she paused.
"Me? Why, I asked him what you looked like," she replied, gayly.
"Well?" went on Duane.
"Magnificent chap, Bland said. Bigger than any man in the valley. Just a
great blue-eyed sunburned boy!"
"Humph!" exclaimed Duane. "I'm sorry he led you to expect somebody worth
seeing."
"But I'm not disappointed," she returned, archly. "Duane, are you going to
stay long here in camp?"
"Yes, till I run out of money and have to move. Why?"
Mrs. Bland's face underwent one of the singular changes. The smiles and
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