Image provided by: University of Oregon Libraries; Eugene, OR
About Vernonia eagle. (Vernonia, Or.) 1922-1974 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 5, 1937)
VERNONIA EAGLE. VERNONIA, OREGON GUNLOCK RANCH WNU Service Copyright Frank H. Spearman CHAPTER XI—Continued —13— “Yes, you can, damn you, and you will. Let lue put th.it bandage back where it belongs and you keep It there. D.•n’t tulk about eye sight unless you want it back. Where the hell do I come in? What am I getting out of this?" It was a battle between two strong wills, and it was long in the waging. But when Carpy, wiping the sweat from his forehead and, himself almost unstrung, left Denison’s side, his patient had ridden out the storui and had promised quiet till the two could think of what might be done, pledging in the interval mutual and absolute secrecy. Secrecy, however well pledged, grows more difficult to control In proportion to the number of per sons pledged Carpy swore Sawdy and Lefever to It very easily. McAlpin and Ben Page were warned that if the story leaked out, it might become un pleasant for both. As for Bob Scott, no one was ever known to worm a secret out of him; Barney, of course dared not talk. Yet it will easily be understood that too many people had the story; and only the continual efforts of Di Carpy In silencing, through threats ol what might, happen to them, om or another of the con splrator'- kept it under cover. Jane, after the usual storm with her father who knew what she was doing, rode next morning into town to make her visit to the hospital. Denison was a poor actor. In his endeavor to make Jane feel there had been Votblng to upset him, he was over solicitous. Carpy did better; but he was compelled to ad mit that Denison had not been do ing quite so well—since Jane could see that for herself. Her father continued taciturn and aloot Jane knew she was defying him by continuing to visit Denison, yet being of much the same tena- cioui will as her father himself, she reckoned little of It, But her visits and ministrations to the injured neighbor of Gunlock Ranch became so frequent, and she herself was so wholly indifferent to comment, that the situation be came food for loca’ gossip. Here was Var Tambel i deadly enemy o' Denison’s with his daughter openly showing a very special In terest In Denison’s condition at the hospital—carrying to him delica cies and spending with him half her time in town. Things were at this pass when one day Van Tambel told his daughter he must go to Medicine Bend on some bank business. Jane knew that he was not able to make the trip—Carpy had told her more than once that the old man’s life hung by a thread. She pleaded with her father, found out what the busl ness was and offered to go in his stead. She took the morning train for Medicine Bend, secured the further time on his notes at the bank, spent the night at the Mountain House, and took the afternoon train west for Sleepy Cat. The Pullman cars were crowded. Jane was forced to And a seat In a day coach. Here she placed her bandhag in the seat beside her. bought a magazine, and resigned herself to a long afternoon and eve ning. Two men had taken the seat di rectly behind her. Jane resumed her reading until In the conversa tion between the two men her at tention was attracted by catching the name of Bill Denison. Her curiosity once aroused. It was easy to follow the drift of their talk. Presently she heard mention of her father’s name. Aroused now to keen interest, Jane was torn be tween the feeling that she ought not to listen and the Impulse that she must “Of course, nobody can prove It,” were the words she heard. “I didn’t say they could. That old bird knows too well how to cover his tracks. But everybody knows how he deviled Denison’s brother when he lived there—tried to buy him out, then scare him out. and then smoke him out. The old devil lias teen crazy ever since he owued Gunlock to get hold of that little Spring Ranch. Why? Account of the water. It’s the biggest spring In the hills. Now that he’s back from the hospital, tile first thing he thinks of is to get bold of that spring." Jane listened with bated breath. "Why, it’s common talk in Sleepy Cat,” the narrator went on, “that he paid Barney Rebstock to set Bill’s ranch house afire and came damned near burning Bill up in It." Her heart stopped beating as she heard the dreadful recital, deliv ered as calmly as the merest bit of current gossip would be dis cussed on a street corner. “According to what I hear,” con tlnued the narrator, “Sawdy and some of Bill's friends choked the story out of Barney. Sawdy got cut up in the fracas with him— Sawdy was laid up in the nospita'. tor a month. Barney’s a mean devil with a knife." The train was pulling Into Sleepy Cat. Jane, rousing herself from a Of one thing she felt certain: If it were true, she could no longer live under the same roof with him. and the terrifying duty of learning the revolting truth from his own lips confronted her. And her lover—Bill, blinded Bill —what now of him? Could she ever face him again? What would he sa.v? What would he do? He knew the truth. No doubt re mained in her mind on that point. No need now to ask why he seemed worried and changed. Was he only waiting, trying to decide how to tell her he could not marry her—that her father had blinded him—that they must part? She threw open her window and kneeling before It, looked out upon the silent, far-stretching desert with its myriad of heavenly lights. The cool air cleared her head. But what could loosen the deadly grief and shame that clutched at her pound ing heart? When Dr. Carpy walked Into his office from the dining room after breakfast next morning, he suit Jane Van Tambel standing before the window, looking out. “Why, Jane!" he exclaimed. "What brings you here so early?" She looked around at him in si lence. The doctor walked over to her and laid his hands on her shoul ders. "Jane," ne asked, "what nas happened, girl?” The grief in her sunken eyes was too apparent. "Oh, doctor!” The exclamation came like a burst of suffering long pent. “1 know everything.” He saw the fat was flatly in the fire. Indeed he had long had only a faint hope of keeping the facts from Jane. His real hope had been tlint she might uot hear the truth till be could save Denison's eyes and thus cushion the horrid shock that the facts must bring to an in nocent sufferer. She had thrown her arms on the table In front of her. Her head sank between them. Dr. Carpy rose, walked around to the other side, lifted her head and, standing beside her, supported II in his arms. "Jane,” he said slow ly, looking down Into her pitiful eyes, ’’from what you tell me, 1 see that you have heard loose stories floating around." “You, too. have heard them, Doc tor. Why. oh, why didn't you tell me?" "Jane!” excialmed the doctor, driven from his last stronghold ot reserve by the poignancy of her grief. "How the hell could I tell “Let Me Put That Bandage Back you a story involving those it did Where It Belongs.” in such an affair? Actually, no body knows just what the facts stupor, her breath choking tier, her are. Now we must get started heart ready to burst with every right. First you tell me all you beat, staggered to her feet, dazed, heard. Then I’ll tell you all I’ve and supporting herself along the aisle with her hands alternately on aeard—is that fair?” Brokenly, and pausing at inter the backs of the seats, stepped vals to control her voice, Jane gave blindly down to the platform. Bull Page, who was in with the him the train story. Carpy had bowed his head. team and buckboard to take l.er “Well,” he commented as she home, reached for tier handbag. “No, Bull," Jane said quietly. ’'I’m looked soberly up, “that’s not far from what I’ve been told myself not going out tonight" But, Jane, I’m not a bit sure we “Not going out?" have the facts in these stories. “I’m staying in town." “Stayin’ in town?" stammered They all depend on the word of one of the wor3t characters In this Bull, vastly surprised. “Drive me to the hotel,” Jane said country. Barney Rebstock wouldn't wearily. ”1’11 take a room there. hesitate at anything low down in You drive home and come back foi the whole range of crime—anybody in town will tell you that. He’s not me tomorrow afternoon.” It was ten o’clock. Assigned to a only an ex-convlct but the biggest room. Jane freshened herself after liar In this whole country.” "Doctor,” she said solemnly, "does the long, dusty car ride, bathed her face and temples again and again Bill know all that you and I know?" “Jane," he answered in like, “Bill in cold water, and tried to collect knows all that you and I know.” her throbbing thoughts. "Oh, I knew IL I knew It To It all seemed like a hideous dream. Surely it could be shaken think that poor 1 should have off; surely men could not be so brought this horror into his life!” “Jane, that’s not so. This might fiendish as to plot fire and so hor rible a death as would follow to all have happened if you never had seen this country." sleeping men. “I want you to do one last favor Her father! She shuddered. This thought was most horrible of all— for me, Doctor. Will you?" asked Jane, incredible—and yet . . . “What is It, Jane?” “1 want you to say to Bill that I freely release him from his prom ise of marriage; that I beg him to forgive me all I have Innocently caused him to suffer—and that I will leave here forever—’’ “Jane!" exclaimed her listener. She raised her hand, ’T’ve not fin ished yet.” “Go onI" he snapped, bluntly. "My father has made me his heir to Gunlock ranch; he has no other heir. This morning I will make my will and bequeath whatever I in herit from my father to William Denison, to atone as far as I can for the wrongs my father has done him." "Well?” remarked Carpy coldly. “That is all." “And that Is what you want me to tell Bill?" “That, Doctor, Is what I want Bill to know. Oh, It I had another to do it for me, dear Doctor, 1 wouldn’t put It on you." Carpy rose to his feet. “Jane, you’re sending me on a fool’s errand. But seeing I'm noth ing but an old fool, I expect I’m just the man for the job. 1 can tell you now what he’ll say as well as If I'd seen him and given him your message. But I know, of course, that wouldn’t satisfy you. So 1’11 go—and go now. “Now promise," he repeated. In parting, "you will stay right here in this office till I get back.” But she was ill prepared for what she saw when the office door was opened half an hour later and Dr. Carpy pushed Denison ahead ot him into the office. Bill’s eyes were ban daged. He groped a little with his hands, while the doctor guided him to a chair. "Here lie Is, Jane,” announced Carpy bluntly. “He can speak for himself." She had not an Instant to wait. No sooner did Denison feel nlm- self seated in a chair than he held out his arms and said, apparently not with deep feeling, not with pained emotion, but In the most commonplace, every day, matter-of- fact manner: “Where's my girl? Come here!” The old doctor watched Jane run timidly to Denison’s side. “Bill!” she exclaimed brokenly. “Here I am!” “What’s all this talk I hear about your quitting me, Jane?” be asked unsteadily. "Bill, 1 thought you ought at least to have a—" "Well, I’ve bad my chance, haven t 1? And this is my answer. Till death us do part! Nothing less, nothing else goes I Is that plain, girlie? I gave you a chance the other day to quit me—what was your answer?” CHAPTER XII ANE did not go home that after noon. She sent Bull and the J buckhoard back with Instructions not to come in for her until she sent word. She wrote a brief note to her father, merely saying that she had attended to his business and would be home in a few days. Van Tambel, In an Impatient rage, sent Bull back with an order to Jane to come home at once. The harsh message made less Im pression on bis daughter than he had Intended; but It did bring back the answer that she would be out soon. When the buqkboard next day drew up at the ranchhouse door. Jane alighted with a fast-beating heart Fortunately, when she got home, her father was out in the hills. Her welcome came from Quong; It sort of broke the Ice of the home-com ing. But she went to her room, got out her two old suitcases, dusted them off, laid them on her bed and, stripping the hooks of her closet and opening the drawers of her dresser, began almost furiously to pack. While she was at this, she heard the heavy uneven steps of her fa ther in the living room, and the next minute his huge bulk darkened the open doorway of her bedroom. "Hello!” be snapped. She turned. “Hello, Father,” she responded simply. “What are you doing?” "Packing.” “What f’rf “Preparing to go into town." “What you goln’ in town agin f’r?" “I’ve got a Job In town, and I’m going there to work at It.” “What kind of a Job?” he snorted. “I’m going to study nursing at the hospital.” “What the hell you goln’ to do that f’r?” "Because things have been done from here that make this place hateful to me. I couldn’t stand It here any longer." “What things you talkin’ about?’ She looked at him steadily. "I'm talking about burning Bill Deni son’s ranch house.” “What’s that got to do with your quitting home?" "Everything. Everybody’s talking about that tire. Barney Rebstock “Bill, I Thought You Ought at Least to Have a—” has told that you paid him for set ting fire to a neighbor's ranch bouse with men sleeping In It.” "Why, that fellow's the worst ------ liar In Sleepy Cat. Nobody believes anything he says.” “I can tell you everybody be lieves It,” she said, trembling. “Do you believe It?” "Father, I am forced to unless you can convince me you had noth ing to do with It This wretch nas had a pocketful of money.” Van Tambel regarded her with perfect poise. "Why, I did give him a little money. I'll say I've been sorry for him. I know be hates Bill Denison—a good many folks in this country's got no use for that—” "Stop!” cried Jane. “Don't say anything against Bill Denison. He saved my life!” “—that damned, dirty, ornery rus tler and thief—” Jane's eyes blazed. She stamped her foot. “Don’t you dare!” she cried. “What you’re saying about him is what every one in this coun try says about you.” "Yes? There's some damned mean people In this country,” thun dered her father. “Just look out for yourself, my lady. I don’t know any more about that fire than you do. If Barney Rebstock wanted to get even with Denison, that’s his business, not mine. You shut your trap." “That’s not all.” “More lies, eh?” “McCrossen has told in town that you once tried to get him to set the house on Are and he refused to do It." “He Iles! He did do It! I gave him Ave hundred dollars to do It He agreed to do It and took the money to do it If he hired Bar ney Rebstock to start the Are that’s his lookout! (TO BE CONTINUED)
