Shadow Mountain Page 3

  CHAPTER III

  THE SHADOW

  The old, settled quiet returned to sleepy Keno--the quiet of the desertand of empty, noiseless houses stretching in long, sunburned rows downthe canyon. The black lava patch, laid across the gray rhyolite flank ofShadow Mountain like the shade of an angry cloud, still frowned downupon the town like a portent of storms to come. But the sky was hot andgleaming and no storms came; nor did Wiley Holman return, though theWidow waited for him patiently. After all his boldness, his unbelievableeffrontery in trying to steal her Paymaster stock, he had gone onlaughing to seek other adventures and left her with the mine on herhands. But he would come back, she knew it; and with her gun loaded withbuckshot she watched from the shelter of the gallery.

  Yet the days went by and then the weeks and at last the Widow, with asigh of vexation, put up her gun and retired within. Now that theepisode was over she felt vaguely regretful that he had failed, afterall, in his purpose. If he had procured his option, under cover of herblindness, and obtained her quit-claim to the mine, she would at leasthave had the satisfaction of obtaining her own terms--and she would havethe twenty thousand to spend. It was maddening, disgusting, when shethought it over, that he had turned out to be Holman's son, and shenever quite forgave Virginia for dinning the fact into her ears. Forwhat you don't know will never hurt you, and she had lost her lastchance to sell. When she went back into the house she went back into thekitchen, and there she would have to stay. Either that or take HonestJohn's money.

  But he wanted the property--the Widow knew it--else why had he sent hisson? All the wise-acres in Keno agreed with the Widow that Honest Johnhad designs on her property and Death Valley Charley, who had jumpedhalf the claims in the district, began once more to carry his gun. Itwas by virtue of that, more than of assessment work done or of any otherlegal right, that Charley held title to his claims; and until Wiley hadcome through town and attempted to bond the Paymaster he had feared noone but Stiff Neck George. Stiff Neck George had been Blount's gunmanon the momentous occasion when they had tried to jump the Paymaster--andthe Widow Huff had put him to flight with one blast from her trustyshotgun. But now that big interests were sending in their experts andmining was picking up everywhere Stiff Neck George might forget thathumiliating defeat, so Death Valley Charley put on his six-shooter.

  He was a little, stooping man, burned chocolate brown by the sun andwith eyes half blinded by the glare, and as the Widow gave up herfruitless vigil, Death Valley Charley took her place. But he was notalone, for through all the weary weeks Virginia had been watching hermother. She had slipped in and out, now lingering on the gallery, nowlistening through the doorway, expectant but at the same time afraid.She knew Wiley Holman much better than her mother, and she knew that hewould come back. He was patient, that was all, more patient than anIndian, and he had his eye on their mine. For ten years and more ColonelHuff, and now the Widow, had held physical possession of the Paymaster.Every great iron-bound door was locked and padlocked and the Huff familyheld the keys, but in all those ten years Holman had never come near itand Blount had merely seized it on a labor lien. The very title to themine was shrouded in mystery, for no one could locate the shares, and toopenly lay claim to it and produce a majority of the stock would beequivalent to a confession of treachery. All that anyone knew surely wasthat some one of the three original owners--or some unsuspected partyoutside--had bought in and sequestered the almost valueless stock andwas patiently biding his time. Since the Huffs did not own the stockthemselves they knew for a certainty that it was held by either Holmanor Blount.

  As Virginia sat on the gallery, listening subconsciously for thedrumming of Wiley's racing motor up the road, she ran over in her mindthe circumstances of his visit; and she could explain them all but one.Why, after failing of his mission, and narrowly escaping her mother'sgun, had he waved his hand and smiled so gayly as he thundered away upthe street? Had he other schemes more subtle; or was he simply reckless,regarding even this adventure as a joke? As a boy he had been both--acrafty schemer and reckless doer--but now he was grown to a man. And ifthe lines about his mouth were any criterion he would soon be comingback to carry out by stealth what he failed to accomplish by assault. Soshe, too, waited patiently, to foil his machinations and uphold thehonor of the Huffs.

  In the good old days it had never been forgotten that the Huffs belongedto the Virginia quality, while the Holmans came from Maine; hence theColonel's relations with Honest John Holman had at first been strictlybusiness. John Holman was a Northerner, with no social graces andabstemious to a fault, but when his commercial honor upon a certainoccasion had saved the Colonel from bankruptcy he had cast thetraditions of the South to the winds and taken Honest John as hisfriend. "My friend," he called him and neither his wife nor his enemiescould shake the Colonel's faith in his partner. Then, after years ofmutual trust, the panic had come on, and the crash in Paymaster stock;and as their fortunes went tumbling and ugly rumors filled the air theyhad broken their friendship completely. Yet so great was his love forhis old-time friend that he had never openly accused him; and HonestJohn Holman, after months of somber silence, had moved away and starteda cow ranch. But it was a question of honesty between the two men andtheir children had never forgotten. Ten years had passed since they hadbeen boy and girl together, but the moment they met the old quarrelflashed up again and now the feud was on.

  A boisterous blast of wind, whirling dust and papers down the street,announced the beginning of another sandstorm; and Death Valley Charley,who had been sitting outside the gate, came muttering up the steps.Behind him trotted Heine, his worshipful little dog, and as Virginia'spet cat suddenly arched its back, Death Valley took Heine in his arms.

  "Can't you hear 'em?" he asked tiptoeing rapidly up to Virginia. "It'sthem big guns, over in Europe. It's them forty-two centimeter howitzersand the French seventy-fives in the trenches along the Somme."

  "Do you think so?" murmured Virginia, smoothing down her cat's back, "itsounds like blasting to me."

  "No--big guns!" repeated Charley, regarding her intently through hiswavering, sun-blinded eyes, and then he burst into a laugh. "You canhear 'em, can't you, Heine?" he cried to his dog, and Heine squirmedecstatically and sneezed. "Hah, that's my little dog--you're soconfectionate! Now get down on the floor, and don't you go near thatcat."

  He put down the dog and advanced closer to Virginia.

  "He's coming!" he whispered. "I can hear him, plain--jurrr, jurrr; hud,hud, hud, hud, hud!"

  "Who's coming?" demanded Virginia, looking swiftly up the road.

  "Why--him! The man you're waiting for. Can't you hear him! Hrrrr--rud!He's coming to grab you and take you away in his auto!"

  "Oh, Charley!" exclaimed Virginia, not entirely displeased, "and wherewill you go then?"

  "I'll go to Death Valley," he answered mysteriously. "There's lots ofgold over there. I came back one time and they says to me: 'Charley,where've you been for such a long time?' 'In Death Valley,' I says,'in the Funeral Range. Working in the Coffin mine, on the graveyardshift.' Hah, hah; they can't get nothing out of me. I know wherethere's gold--in the Ube-Hebes; it's a place where nobody goes. I sawyour father there, the last time I went through, and he sent word toyou not to worry. 'But for Christ's sake,' he says, 'don't tell mywife I'm here--I'm tired of her devilish chatter!'"

  "Charley!" reproved Virginia, and as he subsided into mutterings, shelooked about with shocked eyes. "You talk too much," she said at last."Didn't I tell you not to say that again? Because if mother hears itshe'll drive you out of the house, and then what will Heine do?"

  "Heine! Come here, sir!" commanded Charley abruptly, and slapped himuntil he yelped. "Well, now," he warned as Heine slunk away, "you lookout or you lose your house."

  "I guess you'd better go now," said Virginia discreetly, and continuedher vigil alone. Death Valley was harmless, but when he began hearingthings there was no telling where he would stop. The next minute hewould be seeing things, and then getting
messages, and then lookingthrough mountains with radium. He was harmless, of course, but whenthere was a sandstorm--well, some people thought he was crazy. Andthere was a sandstorm coming up. It was blowing in from the north andrushing clouds of dirt down the street; and along in the night, when ithad gained its full force, the sand and gravel would fly. She rose to goin, but just at that moment she heard a low drumming up the street. Itincreased to a bubbling, a drumming, a thunder, and like the spirit ofthe rough north wind Wiley Holman went racing through the town. His hatwas off and as he drifted by his hair thrashed wildly in his eyes, yethe glanced up in passing and it seemed to Virginia that he gave her aroguish smile. Then in a series of explosions that brought the Widowrunning he dashed on and whirled out across the desert.

  "Oh, that devil!" she raged, brandishing her heavy shotgun at thedisappearing cloud of dust. "He's just making that hubbub to mock me!He'll be coming back--I know it, the scoundrel--but you wait, he won'tfool me again!"

  She stood on the gallery while the food scorched in the kitchen andwatched the boring arrow of dust, but it swept on and on across theboundless desert until at last it was lost in the storm. "Oh, he'll beback!" she screamed to the gathering neighbors. "I know him, he's aftermy mine. But he'd better watch out! If he ever goes near it, I'll shoothim, you mark my word!"

  "No, he won't," said Virginia, but when they were all gone she came backand gazed down the road.