THE SENATOR GETS BUSY

It was daylight when the routed posse, with Race Moran in the lead, his left arm tied up in a blood-stained handkerchief, rode into Crawling Water. A bullet had pierced the fleshy part of the agent’s wrist, a trifling wound, but one which gave him more pain than he might have suffered from a serious injury. None of the members of the posse had been dangerously wounded; indeed, they had suffered more in the spirit than in the flesh; but there had been a number of minor casualties amongst the men, which made a sufficiently bloody display to arouse the little town to active curiosity.

Under instructions from the leader, however, the fugitives kept grouchily silent, so that curiosity was able to feed only on speculations as to Wade’s temper, and the fact that he had brought about Santry’s release from jail. The story of that achievement had been bruited about Crawling Water since midnight, together with the probability that the Law would be invoked to punish the ranchman for his defiance of it. Popular sentiment was running high over the likelihood of such a step being taken, and the members of the posse were the targets of many hostile glances from the townspeople. At least two-thirds of the citizens were strongly in favor of Wade, but before they took active steps in his behalf they waited for the return of a horseman, who had hurried out to the ranch to learn at first hand exactly what had happened there.

Meanwhile Moran, in an ugly mood, had awakened the Senator from the troubled sleep which had come to him after much wakeful tossing. Rexhill, with tousled hair, wrapped in a bathrobe, from the bottom of which his bare ankles and slippered feet protruded, sat on the edge of his bed, impatiently chewing an unlighted cigar while he listened to Moran’s account of the fracas.

“You went too far, Race, you went too far,” he burst out angrily at last. “You had no orders to jump the ranch. I told you....”

“We’ve been fooling around long enough, Senator,” Moran interrupted sullenly, nursing his throbbing wrist. “It was high time somebody started something, and when I saw my chance I seized it. You seem to think” his voice trailed into scorn “that we are playing marbles with boys, but, I tell you, it’s men we’re up against. My experience has shown me that it’s the first blow that counts in any fight.”

“Well, who got in the hardest lick, eh?” Rexhill snorted sarcastically. “The first blow’s all right, provided the second isn’t a knockout from the other side. Why, confound it, Race, here we had Wade at our mercy. He’d broken into jail and set free a suspected murderer a clear case of criminality. Then you had to spoil it all.”

Moran smothered an imprecation.

“You seem to forget, Senator, that we had him at our mercy before, and you wouldn’t hear of it. If you’d taken my advice in the first place, we’d have had Wade in jail instead of Santry and things might have been different.”

“Your advice was worthless under the circumstances; that’s why I didn’t take it.” Rexhill deliberately paused and lighted his cigar, from which he took several soothing puffs. To have been aroused from his bed with such news had flustered him somewhat; but he had never known anything worth while to come out of a heated discussion, and he sought now to calm himself. Finally, he spoke slowly. “What you proposed to me then was a frame-up, and all frame-ups are dangerous, particularly when they have little to rest upon. For that reason I refused to fall in with your ideas, Race. This release of Santry from jail is or was an entirely different thing, an overt criminal act, with Sheriff Thomas on our side as an unimpeachable witness.”

Moran was suffering too keenly from his wound and smarting under his defeat too much to be altogether reasonable. His manner was fast losing the appearance of respect which he had previously shown his employer. His expression was becoming heated and contemptuous.

“You didn’t base your refusal on logic at the time, Senator,” he said. “It was sentiment, if I remember right. Wade had broken bread with you, and all that. I don’t see but what that applies just as well now as it did then.”

“It doesn’t,” the Senator argued smugly, still rankling from Wade’s arraignment of him the day before, “because even hospitality has its limits of obligation. So long as I knew Wade to be innocent, I did not care to have him arrested; but I don’t admit any sentiment of hospitality which compels me to save a known criminal from the hand of justice. Sheriff Thomas came in to see me last night and I agreed with him that Wade should be brought to account for his contempt of the law. Wade forced his way into the jail and released his foreman at the point of a gun. Even so, I feel sorry for Wade and I am a little apprehensive of the consequences that will probably develop from his foolhardiness.”

“Well, by God, if there’s any sympathy for him floating around this room, it all belongs to you, Senator.” Moran tenderly fingered his aching wrist. “I’m not one of these ‘turn the other cheek’ guys; you can gamble on that!”

“But now where are we?” Rexhill ignored the other’s remarks entirely. “We are but little better off than Wade is. He pulled Santry out of jail, and we tried to steal his ranch. The only difference is that so far he has succeeded, and we have failed. He has as much law on his side now as we have on ours.”

Moran’s head drooped a little before the force of this argument, although he was chiefly impressed by the fact that he had failed. His failures had been few, because Fortune had smiled upon him in the past; and doubtless for this reason he was the less able to treat failure philosophically. His plans at the ranch house had gone awry. He had counted on meeting Wade there in the daytime, in the open, and upon provoking him, before witnesses, into some hot-headed act which would justify a battle. The surprise attack had left the agent without this excuse for the hostilities which had occurred.

Rexhill arose and walked up and down the room in thought, his slippered feet shuffling over the floor, showing now and then a glimpse of his fat, hairy legs as the skirt of his bathrobe fluttered about. A cloud of fragrant smoke from his cigar trailed him as he walked, and from the way he chewed on the tobacco his confreres in the Senate could have guessed that he was leading up to one of his Czar-like pronouncements. Presently he stopped moving and twisted the cigar in his mouth so that its fumes would be out of his eyes, as his glance focused on Moran.

“There’s just one way out of this mess, Race,” he began. “Now heed what I say to you. I’m going to send a telegram to the Department of the Interior which will bring a troop of cavalry down here from Fort Mackenzie. You must go slow from now on, and let the authorities settle the whole matter.”

The agent sat up alertly, as his employer, wagging a ponderous forefinger impressively, proceeded.

“You were not on the ranch for the purpose of jumping it at all. Mind that now! You and I stand for the majesty of the law in this lawless community.” Moran’s eyes began to twinkle at this, but he said nothing. “When you and Sheriff Thomas went out to the ranch, you carried two warrants with you, one for Santry, as the accessory, and one for Wade, as the principal, in the Jensen shooting. Yes, yes, I know what you are going to say; but I must save my own bacon now. Since Wade has proved himself to be a lawbreaker, I’m not going to protect him.”

“Now, you’re talking!” exclaimed Moran, delighted at the prospect of what such a course would start going.

“I’ll have the matter of the warrants fixed up with Thomas,” the Senator continued. “Now, follow me carefully. Thomas arrested Santry at the ranch, and then left you, as his deputy, to serve the other warrant on Wade when he came home. It was because of his knowledge of what was in store for him that Wade, after getting Santry out of jail, attacked you and your men, and it was in defense of the law that you returned their fire. It will all work out very smoothly, I think, and any further hostilities will come from the other side and be to our great advantage.”

Moran looked at his employer in admiration, as the latter concluded and turned toward his writing table.

“Senator,” the agent declared, as Rexhill took up his fountain pen and began to write on a telegraph form, “you never should have started in Denver. If you’d been born in little old New York, you’d be in the White House now. From this minute on you and I are going to carry this whole valley in our vest-pockets.”

“You take this over and put it on the wire right away, Race. It’s to the Secretary of the Interior and my signature on it should get immediate attention.” Senator Rexhill handed over the telegraph form he had filled out.

“But what about State rights in this business?” Moran asked, anxiously. “Will they send Government troops in here on your say so?”

The Senator waved his hand in dismissal of the objection.

“I’ll have Thomas wire the Governor that the situation is beyond control. This town is miles from nowhere, and there’s no militia within easy reach. The State will be glad enough to be saved the expense, especially with the soldiers close by at Fort Mackenzie. Besides, you know, although Wade’s ranch is inside the State, a good deal of his land is Government land, or was until he filed on it.”

When Moran had left the room in a much easier frame of mind than he came into it, the Senator sat down heavily on the bed. He was puffing at his cigar and thinking intently, when he caught sight of the white, startled face of his daughter in the mirror of the bureau across the room. Whirling about, he found her standing in the doorway looking at him. Rexhill had never before been physically conscious of the fact that he had a spine, but in that moment of discovery a chill crept up and down his back, for her expression told him that she had heard a good deal of his conversation with Moran. The most precious thing to him in life was the respect of his child; more precious even, he knew, than the financial security for which he fought; and in her eyes now he saw that he was face to face with a greater battle than any he had ever waged.

“Father!”

“What, are you awake, my dear?”

He tried hard to make his tone cheery and natural, as he stood up and wrapped the bathrobe more closely around him.

“I heard what you said to Race Moran.”

Helen came into the room, with only a dressing wrapper thrown over her thin night-dress, and dropped into a chair. She seemed to feel that her statement of the fact was accusation enough in itself, and waited for him to answer.

“You shouldn’t have listened, Helen. Moran and I were discussing private business matters, and I thought that you were asleep. It was not proper....”

Her lips, which usually framed a smile for him, curled disdainfully and he winced in spite of himself. He avoided the keen appraisement of her gaze, which seemed now to size him up, as though to probe his most secret thoughts, whereas before she had always accepted him lovingly on faith.

“Certainly, they were not matters that you would want an outsider to hear,” she said, in a hard voice, “but I am very glad that I listened, father. Glad” her voice broke a little “even though I shall never be able to think of you again as I....”

He went to her and put his heavy hands on her shoulders, which shrank under his touch.

“Now, don’t say things that you’ll regret, Helen. You’re the only girl I have, and I’m the only father you have, so we ought to make the best of each other, oughtn’t we, eh? You’re prone to hasty judgments. Don’t let them run away with you now.”

“Don’t touch me!” He made way for her as she got to her feet. “Father,” she tremblingly faced him, leaning for support against a corner of the bureau, “I heard all that you said to Mr. Moran. I don’t want you to tell me what we’ve been to each other. Don’t I know that? Haven’t I felt it?”

The Senator swallowed hard, touched to the quick at the sight of her suffering.

“You want me to explain it more fully?”

“If you can. Can you?” Her lips twitched spasmodically. “I want you to tell me something that will let me continue to believe that you are that you are Oh, you know what I want to say.” Rexhill blushed a deep purple, despite his efforts at self-control. “But what can you say, father; what can you say, after what I’ve heard?”

“You mean as regards young Wade? You know, I told you last night about his attack on the Sheriff. You know, too” the blush faded as the Senator caught his stride again “that I said I meant to crush him. You even agreed with me that he should be taught a lesson.”

“But you should fight fairly,” Helen retorted, with a quick breath of aggression. “Do you believe that he killed Jensen? Of course you don’t. The mere idea of such a thing is absurd.”

“Perhaps he planned it.”

“Father!” The scorn in her tone stung him like a whip-lash. “Did he plan the warrants, too? The warrant that hasn’t been issued yet, although you are going to swear that it was issued yesterday. Did he plan that?”

Once in his political career, the Senator had faced an apparent impasse and had wormed out of it through tolerant laughter. He had laughed so long and so genially that the very naturalness of his artifice had won the day for him. Men thought that if he had had a guilty conscience, he could not have seemed so carefree. He tried the same trick now with his daughter; but it was a frightful attempt and he gave it up when he saw its ill-success.

“See here, Helen,” he burst out, “it is ridiculous that you should arraign me in this way. It is true that no warrant was out yesterday for Wade, but it is also true that the Sheriff intended to issue one, and it was only through my influence that the warrant was not issued. Since then Wade, besides insulting me, has proved himself a lawbreaker. I have nothing to do with the consequences of his actions, which rest entirely with him. You have overheard something that you were not intended to hear, and as is usually the case, have drawn wrong conclusions. The best thing you can do now is to try to forget what you have heard and leave the matter in my hands, where it belongs.”

He had spoken dominantly and expected her to yield to his will. He was totally unprepared, well as he knew her spirit, for what followed.

She faced him with glowing eyes and her trembling lips straightened into a thin, firm line of determination. He was her father, and she had always loved him for what she had felt to be his worth; she had given him the chance to explain, and he had not availed himself of it; he was content to remain convicted in her eyes, or else, which was more likely, he could not clear himself. She realized now that, despite what she had said in pique, only the night before, she really loved Wade, and he, at least, had done nothing, except free a friend, who, like himself, was unjustly accused. She could not condemn him for that, any more than she could forget her father’s duplicity.

“I won’t forget it!” she cried. “If necessary, I will go to Gordon and tell him what you’ve done. I’ll tell it to every one in Crawling Water, if you force me to. I don’t want to because, just think what that would mean to you! But you shall not sacrifice Gordon. Yes, I mean it I’ll sacrifice you first!”

“Don’t talk so loud,” the Senator warned her anxiously, going a little white. “Don’t be a fool, Helen. Why, it was only a few hours ago that you said Wade should be punished.”

She laughed hysterically.

“That was only because I wanted to get him away from this awful little town. I thought that if he were punished a little, if he was made a laughing stock, he might be ashamed, and not want to stay here. Now, I see that I was wrong. I don’t blame him for fighting with every weapon he can find. I hope he wins!”

Rexhill, who had been really frightened at her hysterical threat of exposure, and assailed by it in his pride as well, felt his fear begin to leave him and his confidence in himself return. In the next minute or two, he thought rapidly and to considerable purpose. In the past he had resolutely refused to use his child in any way to further his own ends, but the present occasion was an emergency, and major surgery is often demanded in a crisis. If she were willing, as she said, to sacrifice him, he felt that he might properly make use of her and her moods to save himself and her as well. He realized that if she were to shout abroad through Crawling Water the conversation that had passed between him and Moran, the likelihood of either of the two men getting out of the county alive would be extremely remote.

“So that was it, eh? And I complimented you upon your good sense!” His laugh was less of an effort now. “Well, doesn’t it hold good now as well as it did then? Come, my dear, sit down and we’ll thresh this out quietly.”

She shook her head stubbornly, but the woman in her responded to the new note of confidence in his voice, and she waited eagerly for what he had to say, hopeful that he might still clear himself.

“You tell me that I must fight fair. Well, I usually do fight that way. I’m doing so now. When I spoke yesterday of crushing Wade, I meant it and I still mean it. But there are limits to what I want to see happen to him; for one thing, I don’t want to see him hung for this Jensen murder, even if he’s guilty.”

“You know he isn’t guilty.”

“I think he isn’t.” Her eyes lighted up at this admission. “But he must be tried for the crime, there’s no dodging that. The jury will decide the point; we can’t. But even if he should be convicted, I shouldn’t want to see him hung. Why, we’ve been good friends, all of us. I I like him, even though he did jump on to me yesterday. That was why” he leaned forward, impelled to the falsehood that hung upon his tongue by the desperate necessity of saving himself his daughter’s love and respect “I arranged with Moran to have the boy arrested on such a warrant. He is bound to be arrested” Rexhill struck the table with his fist “and if he should need a basis for an appeal after conviction, he could hardly have a better one than the evidence of conspiracy, which a crooked warrant would afford. I wanted to give him that chance because I realized that he had enemies here and that his trial might not be a fair one. When the right moment came I was going to have that warrant looked into.”

“Father!”

Helen dropped on her knees before him, her eyelashes moist with tears and her voice vibrant with happiness.

“Why didn’t you explain all that before, Father? I knew that there must be some explanation. I felt that I couldn’t have loved you all my life for nothing. But do you really believe that any jury would convict Gordon of such a thing?”

“I hope not.”

Never had Senator Rexhill felt himself more hopelessly a scoundrel than now as he smoothed her hair from her forehead; but he told himself that the pain of this must be less than to be engulfed in bankruptcy, or exposure, which would submerge them all. Moreover, he promised himself that if future events bore too heavily against Wade, he should be saved at the eleventh hour. The thought of this made the Senator’s position less hard.

“I hope not, Helen,” he repeated. “Of course, the serving of the warrant at this time will help my own interests, but since a warrant must be served, anyway, I feel justified, under the circumstances, in availing myself of this advantage.”

“Y-e-s, of course,” Helen agreed doubtfully. “Oh, it is all too bad. I wish none of us had ever heard of Crawling Water.”

“Well, maybe the Grand Jury will not indict him, feeling runs so strong here,” her father continued, and she took fresh hope at this prospect. “But, anyway, he will feel the pressure before all is done with, and very likely he’ll be only too glad to dispose of his ranch and say good-by to Wyoming when he is free to do as he pleases. Then you and he can make a fresh start, eh? All will be sunshine and roses then, maybe, forever and aye.”

“That’s what I want to do get away from here; and that was all I meant when I said to punish Gordon.”

The Senator patted her cheek tenderly and drew a deep breath of relief.

“By the way, father,” Helen said casually, when she started back to her room, a little later, “I saw Miss Purnell on the street yesterday. You know, she was out when Gordon took me to see her.”

“Well, is she dangerous?”

Helen looked at him in amusement, and shrugged her shoulders.