In the Shadow of the Hills by George C. Shedd (the best ebook reader for android txt) 📕

seen in Martinez' office the night of the shooting.

"How did you learn that?"

"It--well, it was let slip inadvertently in my presence."

Weir would not press her further. Nor was there need, for the sudden embarrassment on her face and indeed the information itself could have but one source, the man who knew, Ed Sorenson.

"You're the equal of a thousand ordinary friends," he declared. "I can make use of that item. Step aside, please; we're in the middle of the road." And he drew her from in front of the horseman advancing upon them.

They said nothing, but waited for the man to pass. But he pulled his mount from a gallop to a trot, and from a trot to a foot pace, and at last when squarely even with them came to a full stop. From under his broad hat brim he silently considered the girl in white summer dress and the bare-headed engineer.

Then he began to shake with laughter, which lasted but an instant. So insulting, so sinister was that noiseless laugh that Janet's hand had flown to Weir's arm, which she nervously clutched. As for Weir, his limbs stiffened--she felt the tightening of the arm she grasped--as a tiger's body grows taut preparatory to a spring.

The short, fleshy, insolent rider sitting there in the moonlight was Burkhardt.

"Ed Sorenson better keep an eye on his little turtledove," he remarked. And touching heel to his animal he swung ahead for town.

For one dazed minute they stared after him.

"Shoot him!" she suddenly said, through shut teeth.

"I haven't my gun along, or I'd be glad to oblige you."

"He deserves killing, the wretch!"

"On more accounts than one," he replied, quietly.

So quietly and so gravely, in truth, that her gust of rage subsided before the low-spoken menace of the words. No quick anger was his but a steady and deadly purpose. Again she felt the hard-held force, the mystery of the man, as if flowing suddenly upward from subterranean channels. What wrong had he suffered, what undeserved torture at the hands of this man and others thus to freeze his soul?

But he immediately turned to her, asking, "Does that upset the broth?"

A wan smile greeted his words.

"I expect it will keep the cook busy, anyway," she said.


CHAPTER X

BY RIGHT OF POSSESSION

Janet Hosmer made no effort to guess what her fiance would say when next he called, or to prepare a defense of explanations and excuses. She was not that kind. What was necessary to be stated at the proper time would arise to her lips. Nevertheless she had a heaviness of heart, a natural distress as to the unpleasantness in prospect; and had only the slightest hope that Ed would ignore or refuse to hear Burkhardt's story. The man would tell her lover, of that she might rest assured, out of hatred for the engineer if for no other reason.

She knew how passionately Ed was set against Steele Weir, for a score of times she had heard his incensed opinions, increasing lately to tirades. It had seemed strange at first that one could be so bitter over a simple difference like that of who should work at the dam. But ever since Weir had uttered his hoarse exclamation regarding her engagement, words so full of protest and amazed indignation, she was aware the cause went deeper.

At that moved ejaculation of her companion that night something, too, had settled on her heart like a weight--an indefinable foreboding. The anxiety aroused about Ed's father and his integrity came to include Ed likewise. Loyalty of course required that she accept the man she had promised to marry, without reservations. As between him and others there should be but one choice. But did she really know him? Was he simply the open, jolly, generous, upright adoring fellow he appeared? Or were there less pleasant, more ignoble sides to his character? Was he, as well as his father, capable of a mean, unworthy, selfish persecution of another?

The engineer had made no open accusation against him--or against any one, for that matter. She had done her best to get him to express himself, but he had refused. Enemies he might have, but he would not discuss the fact beyond admitting it was true. Only at moments when his restraint slipped could she measure his feelings. Quite different that from Ed Sorenson's voluble, heated denunciations of the other. Yet, heavens, how appalled this reserved man had been at hearing of her engagement! Far more than words, far more than any open charge, did his face and incredulity, both so patently sincere, bespeak the mistake she was making and justify gnawing doubts of her lover.

As she approached her home Ed Sorenson came dashing out to spring into his runabout waiting before the gate. At sight of her he pulled up short.

"Ah, here you are," he said.

"Yes, here I am," was her reply.

"You doubtless know what I've been told," he stated, significantly.

"No, I don't. I can only suspect."

"Is it true you've been meeting this man Weir on the quiet? Meeting him while engaged to me? You know what I think of him, and what every other respectable person thinks of him."

"Was that Mr. Burkhardt's report? That I am meeting Mr. Weir on the quiet, to use your words?" she countered.

Sorenson made an angry gesture at what he considered an evasion.

"Janet, listen. He said he saw you at the edge of town, that you were both bare-headed, standing close together, arms locked. Good heavens, can't you imagine my feelings on hearing what he had to say! He stopped me on the street and drew me aside to put me on my guard, he said. Burkhardt wouldn't just make up a yarn like that against you, and he's a good friend of mine. He didn't say half what he suggested."

The girl turned her face towards the house, shut her eyes for an instant. She could picture the rider's brutal leering face and unspoken insinuations; and her brain also placed in the scene her lover greedily if angrily drinking in the tale. Harkening to it instead of knocking the man down, that was the worst of it. Harkening--and believing.

"I'll not deign to resent your remark of meeting Mr. Weir 'on the quiet'," said she, quietly. "I met him on the road accidentally."

"Don't you think I'm entitled to know something about it?" he asked, with an edged tone.

"What is it you desire to know?"

Nearly an oath of wrath escaped his mouth, but he kept his control.

"Janet, you know what kind of a man he is," he said. "You know what I feel against him, and father, and all our friends, and the town. And the whole town, too, will probably hear of this, with a lot of gossip added that isn't true."

"But I met him accidentally."

"You didn't have to chat with him like an old friend."

Janet Hosmer gave him a slow, meditative look.

"How do you know how I talked with him?"

"You talked with him. That in itself was too much."

"I don't view it in that light," she responded. "He was perfectly civil. Whatever public opinion may be regarding the shooting, I know he killed the man in self-defence. So that's nothing against him. You would have done the same in his place."

Ed Sorenson leaned towards her.

"You were mistaken, Janet. I've said before that I feared you were, but the prosecuting attorney has witnesses to the gun-play that he's dug up. Martinez saw nothing; how could he from inside the office? And remember that you're only a girl, Janet; in the darkness and with the excitement you were confused. I haven't a doubt this scoundrel Weir made you believe you saw what never occurred, when you appeared in Martinez' office. When you've thought it over, you'll realize that yourself. These new witnesses tell just the reverse of what you fancied happened. I'm going to see that you're away from San Mateo when the man's tried, as he will be."

No reply coming from her, he continued:

"He deceived you then and he'll endeavor to poison your mind right along. You're too trustful. Now, I was angry at first, but if there was anything in this meeting to-night that was out of the way, it was his doing, I know. If he got familiar with you, as Burkhardt hinted----"

"Well?"

"I'll kill the dog with my own hands!"

"You may rest easy. His conduct was irreproachable, Mr. Burkhardt to the contrary."

Sorenson regarded her in perplexity, divided between anger and doubts. Too, a new feeling unaccountably sprang into his breast--jealousy. In the end apprehension all at once filled his mind, darkening his face and bringing down his brows.

Uneasy as at first he had been after the row in the restaurant, he had eventually dismissed the matter from his mind, for no rumor of it had reached San Mateo. Neither Weir nor Johnson, the girl's father, had blabbed of it, so his alarm passed; they didn't want to talk of it for the girl's sake, any more than he wished it known, was his grinning conclusion. The deuce would have been to pay if Janet had got wind of the business. But now his fears came winging back a hundred-fold as he stared at her.

"What did he say to you?" he asked, in a tense voice.

"Not that tone with me, if you please."

Sorenson, however, was past observation of her mood or temper.

"He told you a lot of lies about me, didn't he?" he went on, not hiding the sneer. "And you believed them."

"He didn't say much, but what he did say was to the point. I don't recall that there were any lies."

"There were, of course. It would be just his chance to give you his made-up story about me and that Johnson girl. That was what so interested you."

"No, he didn't say anything about you and any girl except me. Then he only said he was sorry he couldn't have the pleasure of my friendship----"

"Ay-ee," the other grated. His lips worked above his teeth.

A shudder passed over Janet Hosmer's skin at the sound and the sight, for she had never seen him like this. A cold hand might have been closing about her heart: his glare was animal-like and bestial. His nature at the instant stood unclothed.

"And he said he would be at pains to avoid even chance meetings with me, because it would make talk and cause me annoyance."

"He'll not meet you another time if I have anything to say about it."

"I see. But I wanted you to understand that he told me no lies, nor repeated any story--about you and a Johnson girl, I think you said."

A visible breath of relief lifted his breast. He now would have been glad for some one to boot him along the street for ever mentioning the thing. He almost had put his foot in it. Apparently she was not interested in seeking further knowledge of the subject that he so ill-advisedly had brought up. Lucky for him she hadn't the inquisitiveness of some girls.

The narrow escape restored a trace of his good humor, and he was shrewd enough to divert her mind before the incident made an impression. He reached out and patted her shoulder.

"Don't think me a scold,