"That"s just it," said the second man, with a querulous protest, which did not, however, conceal his admiring va.s.salage to his friend; "that"s what I"m allus telling Jim. "Jim," I says, "how is folks to know you"re the man that shot Kernel Baxter, and dropped three o" them Mariposa Vigilants? They didn"t see you do it! They just look at your fancy style and them mustaches of yours, and allow ye might be death on the girls, but they don"t know ye! An" this man yere--he"s a scribe in them papers--writes what the boss editor tells him, and lives up yere on the roof, "longside yer wife and the children--what"s he knowin" about YOU?"
Jim"s all right enough," he continued, in easy confidence to Breeze, "but he"s too fresh "bout himself."
Mr. James Bodine accepted this tribute and criticism of his henchman with a complacent laugh, which was not, however, without a certain contempt for the speaker and the man spoken to. His bold, selfish eyes wandered round the room as if in search of some other amus.e.m.e.nt than his companions offered.
"I reckon this is the room which that hound of a landlord, Rakes, allowed he"d fix up for our poker club--the club that Dan Simmons and me got up, with a few other sports. It was to be a slap-up affair, right under the roof, where there was no chance of the police raiding us. But the cur weakened when the Vigilants started out to make war on any game a gen"leman might hev that wasn"t in their gummy-bag, salt pork trade.
Well, it"s gettin" a long time between drinks, gen"lemen, ain"t it?" He looked round him significantly.
Only the thought of the woman and her children in the next room, and the shame that he believed she was enduring, enabled Breeze to keep his temper or even a show of civility.
"I"m afraid," he said quietly, "that you"ll find very little here to remind you of the club--not even the whiskey; for I use the room only as a bedroom, and as I am a workingman, and come in late and go out early, I have never found it available for hospitality, even to my intimate friends. I am very glad, however, that the little leisure I have had in it has enabled me to make the floor less lonely for your children."
Mr. Bodine got up with an affected yawn, turned an embarra.s.sed yet darkening eye on Breeze, and lunged unsteadily to the door. "And as I only happened in to do the reg"lar thing between high-toned gen"lemen, I reckon we kin say "Quits."" He gave a coa.r.s.e laugh, said "So long,"
nodded, stumbled into the pa.s.sage, and thence into the other room.
His companion watched him pa.s.s out with a relieved yet protecting air, and then, closing the door softly, drew nearer to Breeze, and said in husky confidence,--
"Ye ain"t seein" him at his best, mister! He"s bin drinkin" too much, and this yer news has upset him."
"What news?" asked Breeze.
"This yer suicide o" Irish Jack!"
"Was he his friend?"
"Friend?" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the man, horrified at the mere suggestion. "Not much! Why, Irish Jack was the only man that could hev hung Jim! Now he"s dead, in course the Vigilants ain"t got no proof agin Jim. Jim wants to face it out now an" stay here, but his wife and me don"t see it noways!
So we are taking advantage o" the lull agin him to get him off down the coast this very night. That"s why he"s been off his head drinkin". Ye see, when a man has been for weeks hidin"--part o" the time in that room and part o" the time on the wharf, where them Vigilants has been watchin" every ship that left in order to ketch him, he"s inclined to celebrate his chance o" getting away"--
"Part of the time in that room?" interrupted Breeze quickly.
"Sartin! Don"t ye see? He allus kem in as you went out--sabe!--and got away before you kem back, his wife all the time just a-hoverin" between the two places, and keeping watch for him. It was killin" to her, you see, for she wasn"t brought up to it, whiles Jim didn"t keer--had two revolvers and kalkilated to kill a dozen Vigilants afore he dropped. But that"s over now, and when I"ve got him safe on that "plunger" down at the wharf to-night, and put him aboard the schooner that"s lying off the Heads, he"s all right agin."
"And Roberts knew all this and was one of his friends?" asked Breeze.
"Roberts knew it, and Roberts"s wife used to be a kind of servant to Jim"s wife in the South, when she was a girl, but I don"t know ez Roberts is his FRIEND!"
"He certainly has shown himself one," said Breeze.
"Ye-e-s," said the stranger meditatively, "ye-e-s." He stopped, opened the door softly, and peeped out, and then closed it again softly. "It"s sing"lar, Mr. Breeze," he went on in a sudden yet embarra.s.sed burst of confidence, "that Jim thar--a man thet can shoot straight, and hez frequent; a man thet knows every skin game goin"--that THET man Jim,"
very slowly, "hezn"t really--got--any friends--"cept me--and his wife."
"Indeed?" said Mr. Breeze dryly.
"Sure! Why, you yourself didn"t cotton to him--I could see THET."
Mr. Breeze felt himself redden slightly, and looked curiously at the man. This vulgar parasite, whom he had set down as a worshiper of sham heroes, undoubtedly did not look like an a.s.sociate of Bodine"s, and had a certain seriousness that demanded respect. As he looked closer into his wide, round face, seamed with small-pox, he fancied he saw even in its fatuous imbecility something of that haunting devotion he had seen on the refined features of the wife. He said more gently,--
"But one friend like you would seem to be enough."
"I ain"t what I uster be, Mr. Breeze," said the man meditatively, "and mebbe ye don"t know who I am. I"m Abe Shuckster, of Shuckster"s Ranch--one of the biggest in Petalumy. I was a rich man until a year ago, when Jim got inter trouble. What with mortgages and interest, payin" up Jim"s friends and buying off some ez was set agin him, thar ain"t much left, and when I"ve settled that bill for the schooner lying off the Heads there I reckon I"m about played out. But I"ve allus a shanty at Petalumy, and mebbe when things is froze over and Jim gets back--you"ll come and see him--for you ain"t seen him at his best."
"I suppose his wife and children go with him?" said Breeze.
"No! He"s agin it, and wants them to come later. But that"s all right, for you see she kin go back to their own house at the Mission, now that the Vigilants are givin" up shadderin" it. So long, Mr. Breeze! We"re startin" afore daylight. Sorry you didn"t see Jim in condition."
He grasped Breeze"s hand warmly and slipped out of the door softly. For an instant Mr. Breeze felt inclined to follow him into the room and make a kinder adieu to the pair, but the reflection that he might embarra.s.s the wife, who, it would seem, had purposely avoided accompanying her husband when he entered, withheld him. And for the last few minutes he had been doubtful if he had any right to pose as her friend. Beside the devotion of the man who had just left him, his own scant kindness to her children seemed ridiculous.
He went to bed, but tossed uneasily until he fancied he heard stealthy footsteps outside his door and in the pa.s.sage. Even then he thought of getting up, dressing, and going out to bid farewell to the fugitives.
But even while he was thinking of it he fell asleep and did not wake until the sun was shining in at his windows.
He sprang to his feet, threw on his dressing-gown, and peered into the pa.s.sage. Everything was silent. He stepped outside--the light streamed into the hall from the open doors and windows of both rooms--the floor was empty; not a trace of the former occupants remained. He was turning back when his eye fell upon the battered wooden doll set upright against his doorjamb, holding stiffly in its jointed arms a bit of paper folded like a note. Opening it, he found a few lines written in pencil.
G.o.d bless you for your kindness to us, and try to forgive me for touching your papers. But I thought that you would detect it, know WHY I did it, and then help us, as you did! Good-by!
MAMIE BODINE.
Mr. Breeze laid down the paper with a slight accession of color, as if its purport had been ironical. How little had he done compared to the devotion of this delicate woman or the sacrifices of that rough friend!
How deserted looked this nest under the eaves, which had so long borne its burden of guilt, innocence, shame, and suffering! For many days afterwards he avoided it except at night, and even then he often found himself lying awake to listen to the lost voices of the children.
But one evening, a fortnight later, he came upon Roberts in the hall.
"Well," said Breeze, with abrupt directness, "did he get away?"
Roberts started, uttered an oath which it is possible the Recording Angel pa.s.sed to his credit, and said, "Yes, HE got away all right!"
"Why, hasn"t his wife joined him?"
"No. Never, in this world, I reckon; and if anywhere in the next, I don"t want to go there!" said Roberts furiously.
"Is he dead?"
"Dead? That kind don"t die!"
"What do you mean?"
Roberts"s lips writhed, and then, with a strong effort, he said with deliberate distinctness, "I mean--that the hound went off with another woman--that--was--in--that schooner, and left that fool Shuckster adrift in the plunger."
"And the wife and children?"
"Shuckster sold his shanty at Petaluma to pay their pa.s.sage to the States. Good-night!"
HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE" IN SAN FRANCISCO
The junior partner of the firm of Sparlow & Kane, "Druggists and Apothecaries," of San Francisco, was gazing meditatively out of the corner of the window of their little shop in Dupont Street. He could see the dimly lit perspective of the narrow thoroughfare fade off into the level sand wastes of Market Street on the one side, and plunge into the half-excavated bulk of Telegraph Hill on the other. He could see the glow and hear the rumble of Montgomery Street--the great central avenue farther down the hill. Above the housetops was spread the warm blanket of sea-fog under which the city was regularly laid to sleep every summer night to the cool lullaby of the Northwest Trades. It was already half-past eleven; footsteps on the wooden pavement were getting rarer and more remote; the last cart had rumbled by; the shutters were up along the street; the glare of his own red and blue jars was the only beacon left to guide the wayfarers. Ordinarily he would have been going home at this hour, when his partner, who occupied the surgery and a small bedroom at the rear of the shop, always returned to relieve him.