The Trail to Yesterday Read online

  CHAPTER III

  CONVERGING TRAILS

  It was the barking of a dog that brought Sheila out of a sleep--dreamlessthis time--into a state of semi-consciousness. It was Dakota's dog surely,she decided sleepily. She sighed and twisted to a more comfortableposition. The effort awakened her and she opened her eyes, her gazeresting immediately on Dakota. He still sat at the table, silent,immovable, as before. But now he was sitting erect, his muscles tensed,his chin thrust out aggressively, his gaze on the door--listening. Heseemed to be unaware of Sheila's presence; the sound that she had made inturning he apparently had not heard.

  There was an interval of silence and then came a knocking on thedoor--loud, unmistakable. Some one desired admittance. After the knockcame a voice:

  "Hello inside!"

  "Hello yourself!" Dakota's voice came with a truculent snap. "What's up?"

  "Lookin' for a dry place," came the voice from without. "Mebbe you don'tknow it's wet out here!"

  Sheila's gaze was riveted on Dakota. He arose and noiselessly moved hischair back from the table and she saw a saturnine smile on his face, yetin his eyes there shone a glint of intolerance that mingled oddly with hisgravity.

  "You alone?" he questioned, his gaze on the door.

  "Yes."

  "Who are you?"

  "Campbellite preacher."

  For the first time since she had been awake Dakota turned and looked atSheila. The expression of his face puzzled her. "A parson!" he sneered ina low voice. "I reckon we'll have some praying now." He took a stepforward, hesitated, and looked back at Sheila. "Do you want him in here?"

  Sheila's nod brought a whimsical, shallow smile to his face. "Of courseyou do--you're lonesome in here." There was mockery in his voice. Hedeliberately drew out his two guns, examined them minutely, returned oneto his holster, retaining the other in his right hand. With a cold grin atSheila he snuffed out the candle between a finger and a thumb and strodeto the door--Sheila could hear him fumbling at the fastenings. He spoke tothe man outside sharply.

  "Come in!"

  There was a movement; a square of light appeared in the wall of darkness;there came a step on the threshold. Watching, Sheila saw, framed in theopen doorway, the dim outlines of a figure--a man.

  "Stand right there," came Dakota's voice from somewhere in theimpenetrable darkness of the interior, and Sheila wondered at thehospitality that greeted a stranger with total darkness and a revolver."Light a match."

  After a short interval of silence there came the sound of a matchscratching on the wall, and a light flared up, showing Sheila the face ofa man of sixty, bronzed, bearded, with gentle, quizzical eyes.

  The light died down, the man waited. Sheila had forgotten--in her desireto see the face of the visitor--to look for Dakota, but presently sheheard his voice:

  "I reckon you're a parson, all right. Close the door."

  The parson obeyed the command. "Light the candle on the table!" came theorder from Dakota. "I'm not taking any chances until I get a better lookat you."

  Another match flared up and the parson advanced to the table and lightedthe candle. He smiled while applying the match to the wick. "Don't pay totake no chances--on anything," he agreed. He stood erect, a tall man,rugged and active for his sixty years, and threw off a rain-soakedtarpaulin. Some traces of dampness were visible on his clothing, but inthe circumstances he had not fared so badly.

  "It's a new trail to me--I don't know the country," he went on. "If Ihadn't seen your light I reckon I'd have been goin' yet. I was thinkin'that it was mighty queer that you'd have a light goin' so----" He stoppedshort, seeing Sheila sitting on the bunk. "Shucks, ma'am," he apologized,"I didn't know you were there." His hat came off and dangled in his lefthand; with the other he brushed back the hair from his forehead, smilingmeanwhile at Sheila.

  "Why, ma'am," he said apologetically, "if your husband had told me you washere I'd have gone right on an' not bothered you."

  Sheila's gaze went from the parson's face and sought Dakota's, a crimsonflood spreading over her face and temples. A slow, amused gleam filledDakota's eyes. But plainly he did not intend to set the parson right--hewas enjoying Sheila's confusion. The color fled from her face as suddenlyas it had come and was succeeded by the pallor of a cold indignation.

  "I'm not married," she said instantly to the parson; "this gentleman isnot my husband."

  "Not?" questioned the parson. "Then how--" He hesitated and looked quicklyat Dakota, but the latter was watching Sheila with an odd smile and theparson looked puzzled.

  "This is my first day in this country," explained Sheila.

  The parson did not reply to this, though he continued to watch herintently. She met his gaze steadily and he smiled. "I reckon you've beencaught on the trail too," he said, "by the storm."

  Sheila nodded.

  "Well, it's been right wet to-night, an' it ain't no night to begalivantin' around the country. Where you goin' to?"

  "To the Double R ranch."

  "Where's the Double R?" asked the parson.

  "West," Dakota answered for Sheila; "twenty miles."

  "Off my trail," said the parson. "I'm travelin' to Lazette." He laughed,shortly. "I'm askin' your pardon, ma'am, for takin' you to be married; youdon't look like you belonged here--I ought to have knowed that rightoff."

  Sheila told him that he was forgiven and he had no comment to make onthis, but looked at her appraisingly. He drew a bench up near the fire andsat looking at the licking flames, the heat drawing the steam from hisclothing as the latter dried. Dakota supplied him with soda biscuit andcold bacon, and these he munched in contentment, talking meanwhile of histravels. Several times while he sat before the fire Dakota spoke to him,and finally he pulled his chair over near the wall opposite the bunk onwhich Sheila sat, tilted it back, and dropped into it, stretching outcomfortably.

  After seating himself, Dakota's gaze sought Sheila. It was evident toSheila that he was thinking pleasant thoughts, for several times shelooked quickly at him to catch him smiling. Once she met his gaze fairlyand was certain that she saw a crafty, calculating gleam in his eyes. Shewas puzzled, though there was nothing of fear from Dakota now; thepresence of the parson in the cabin assured her of safety.

  A half hour dragged by. The parson did not appear to be sleepy. Sheilaglanced at her watch and saw that it was midnight. She wondered much atthe parson's wakefulness and her own weariness. But she could safely go tosleep now, she told herself, and she stretched noiselessly out on the bunkand with one arm bent under her head listened to the parson.

  Evidently the parson was itinerant; he spoke of many places--Wyoming,Colorado, Nevada, Arizona, Texas; of towns in New Mexico. To Sheila, hersenses dulled by the drowsiness that was stealing over her, it appearedthat the parson was a foe to Science. His volubility filled the cabin; hecontended sonorously that the earth was not round. The Scriptures, hemaintained, held otherwise. He called Dakota's attention to the seventhchapter of Revelation, verse one:

  "And after these things I saw four angels standing on the four corners ofthe earth, holding the four winds of the earth, that the wind should notblow on the earth, nor on the sea, nor on any tree."

  Several times Sheila heard Dakota laugh, mockingly; he was skeptical,caustic even, and he took issue with the parson. Between them they managedto prevent her falling asleep; kept her in a semidoze which was very nearto complete wakefulness.

  After a time, though, the argument grew monotonous; the droning of theirvoices seemed gradually to grow distant; Sheila lost interest in theconversation and sank deeper into her doze. How long she had beenunconscious of them she did not know, but presently she was awake againand listening. Dakota's laugh had awakened her. Out of the corners of hereyes she saw that he was still seated in the chair beside the wall andthat his eyes were alight with interest as he watched the parson.

  "So you're going to Lazette, taking it on to him?"

  The parson nodded, smiling. "When a man wants to get married he'll notcare m
uch about the arrangements--how it gets done. What he wants to do isto get married."

  "That's a queer angle," Dakota observed. He laughed immoderately.

  The parson laughed with him. It _was_ an odd situation, he agreed. Never,in all his experience, had he heard of anything like it.

  He had stopped for a few hours at Dry Bottom. While there a rider hadpassed through, carrying word that a certain man in Lazette, called"Baldy," desired to get married. There was no minister in Lazette, noteven a justice of the peace. But Baldy wanted to be married, and hisbride-to-be objected to making the trip to Dry Bottom, where there wereboth a parson and a justice of the peace. Therefore, failing to induce thelady to go to the parson, it followed that Baldy must contrive to have theparson come to the lady. He dispatched the rider to Dry Bottom on thisquest.

  The rider had found that there was no regular parson in Dry Bottom andthat the justice of the peace had departed the day before to some distanttown for a visit. Luckily for Baldy's matrimonial plans, the parson hadbeen in Dry Bottom when the rider arrived, and he readily consented--as heintended to pass through Lazette anyway--to carry Baldy's license to himand perform the ceremony.

  "Odd, ain't it?" remarked the parson, after he had concluded.

  "That's a queer angle," repeated Dakota. "You got the license?" heinquired softly. "Mebbe you've lost it."

  "I reckon not." The parson fumbled in a pocket, drawing out a foldedpaper. "I've got it, right enough."

  "You've got no objections to me looking at it?" came Dakota's voice.Sheila saw him rise. There was a strange smile on his face.

  "No objections. I reckon you'll be usin' one yourself one of these days."

  "One of these days," echoed Dakota with a laugh as strange as his smile amoment before. "Yes--I'm thinking of using one one of these days."

  The parson spread the paper out on the table. Together he and Dakota benttheir heads over it. After reading the license Dakota stood erect. Helaughed, looking at the parson.

  "There ain't a name on it," he said, "not a name."

  "They're reckonin' to fill in the names when they're married," explainedthe parson. "That there rider ought to have knowed the names, but hedidn't. Only knowed that the man was called 'Baldy.' Didn't know thebride's name at all. But it don't make any difference; they wouldn't havehad to have a license at all in this Territory. But it makes it look moreregular when they've got one. All that's got to be done is for Baldy to goover to Dry Bottom an' have the names recorded. Bein' as I can't go, I'mto certify in the license."

  "Sure," said Dakota slowly. "It makes things more regular to have alicense--more regular to have you certify."

  Looking at Dakota, Sheila thought she saw in his face a certainpreoccupation; he was evidently not thinking of what he was saying at all;the words had come involuntarily, automatically almost, it seemed, soinexpressive were they. "Sure," he repeated, "you're to certify, in thelicense."

  It was as though he were reading aloud from a printed page, his thoughtselsewhere, and seeing only the words and uttering them unconsciously. Someidea had formed in his brain, he meditated some surprising action. Thatshe was concerned in his thoughts Sheila did not doubt, for he presentlyturned and looked straight at her and in his eyes she saw a newexpression--a cold, designing gleam that frightened her.

  Five minutes later, when the parson announced his intention to care forhis horse before retiring and stood in the doorway preparatory to goingout, Sheila restrained an impulse to call to him to remain. She succeededin quieting her fears, however, by assuring herself that nothing couldhappen now, with the parson so near. Thus fortified, she smiled at Dakotaas the parson stepped down and closed the door.

  She drew a startled breath in the next instant, though, for withoutnoticing her smile Dakota stepped to the door and barred it. Turning, hestood with his back against it, his lips in straight, hard lines, his eyessteady and gleaming brightly.

  He caught Sheila's gaze and held it; she trembled and sat erect.

  "It's odd, ain't it?" he said, in the mocking voice that he had used whenusing the same words earlier in the evening.

  "What is odd?" Hers was the same answer that she had used before, too--shecould think of nothing else to say.

  "Odd that he should come along just at this time." He indicated the doorthrough which the parson had disappeared. "You and me are here, and hecomes. Who sent him?"

  "Chance, I suppose," Sheila answered, though she could feel that there wasa subtle undercurrent in his speech, and she felt again the strange unrestthat had affected her several times before.

  "You think it was chance," he said, drawling his words. "Well, maybethat's just as good a name for it as any other. But we don't all seethings the same way, do we? We couldn't, of course, because we've all gotdifferent things to do. We think this is a big world and that we play abig game. But it's a little world and a little game when Fate takes a handin it. I told you a while ago that Fate had a queer way of shuffling usaround. That's a fact. And Fate is running this game." His mocking laughhad a note of grimness in it, which brought a chill over Sheila. "Justnow, Miss Sheila, Fate is playing with brides and bridegrooms andmarriages and parsons. That's what is so odd. Fate has supplied the parsonand the license; we'll supply the names. Look at the bridegroom, Sheila,"he directed, tapping his breast with a finger; "this is your weddingday!"

  "What do you mean?" Sheila was on her feet, trembling, her face white withfear and dread.

  "That we're to be married," he said, smiling at her, and she noted with aqualm that there was no mirth in the smile, "you and me. The parson willtie the knot."

  "This is a joke, I suppose?" she said scornfully, attempting a lightnessthat she did not feel; "a crude one, to be sure, for you certainly cannotbe serious."

  "I was never more serious in my life," he said slowly. "We are to bemarried when the parson comes in."

  "How do you purpose to accomplish this?" she jeered. "The parson certainlywill not perform a marriage ceremony without the consent of--without myconsent."

  "I think," he said coldly, "that you will consent. I am not in a triflingmood. Just now it pleases me to imagine that I am an instrument of Fate.Maybe that sounds mysterious to you, but some day you will be able to seejust how logical it all seems to me now, that Fate has sent me a pawn--asubject, if you please--to sacrifice, that the game which I have beenplaying may be carried to its conclusion."

  Outside they heard the dog bark, heard the parson speak to it.

  "The parson is coming," said Sheila, her joy over the impendinginterruption showing in her eyes.

  "Yes, he is coming." Still with his back to the door, Dakota deliberatelydrew out one of his heavy pistols and examined it minutely, paying noattention to Sheila. Her eyes widened with fear as the hand holding theweapon dropped to his side and he looked at her again.

  "What are you doing to do?" she demanded, watching these forbiddingpreparations with dilated eyes.

  "That depends," he returned with a chilling laugh. "Have you ever seen aman die? No?" he continued as she shuddered. "Well, if you don't consentto marry me you will see the parson die. I have decided to give you thechoice, ma'am," he went on in a quiet, determined voice, entirely freefrom emotion. "Sacrifice yourself and the parson lives; refuse and I shootthe parson down the instant he steps inside the door."

  "Oh!" she cried in horror, taking a step toward him and looking into hiseyes for evidence of insincerity--for the slightest sign that would tellher that he was merely trying to scare her. "Oh! you--you coward!" shecried, for she saw nothing in his eyes but cold resolution.

  He smiled with straight lips. "You see," he mocked, "how odd it is? Fateis shuffling us three in this game. You have your choice. Do you care tobe responsible for the death of a fellow being?"

  For a tense instant she looked at him, and seeing the hard, inexorableglitter in his eyes she cringed away from him and sank to the edge of thebunk, covering her face with her hands.

  During the silence that followed she
could hear the parson outside--hisvoice, and the yelping of the dog--evidently they had formed a friendship.The sounds came nearer; Sheila heard the parson try the door. She becameaware that Dakota was standing over her and she looked up, shivering, tosee his face, still hard and unyielding.

  "I am going to open the door," he said. "Is it you or the parson?"

  At that word she was on her feet, standing before him, rigid with anger,her eyes flaming with scorn and hatred.

  "You wouldn't dare to do it!" she said hoarsely; "you--you----" Shesnatched suddenly for the butt of the weapon that swung at his left hip,but with a quick motion he evaded the hand and stepped back a pace,smiling coldly.

  "I reckon it's the parson," he said in a low voice, which carried an airof finality. He started for the door, hesitated, and came back to thebunk, standing in front of Sheila, looking down into her eyes.

  "I am giving you one last chance," he told her. "I am going to open thedoor. If you want the parson to die, don't look at me when he steps in. Ifyou want him to live, turn your back to him and walk to the fireplace."

  He walked to the door, unlocked it, and stepped back, his gaze on Sheila.Then the door opened slowly and the parson stood on the threshold,smiling.

  "It's sure some wet outside," he said.

  Dakota was fingering the cylinder of his revolver, his gaze now riveted onthe parson.

  "Why," said the latter, in surprise, seeing the attitudes of Dakota andhis guest, "what in the name of----"

  There came a movement, and Sheila stood in front of Dakota, between himand the parson. For an instant she stood, looking at Dakota with ascornful, loathing gaze. Then with a dry sob, which caught in her throat,she moved past him and went to the fireplace, where she stood looking downat the flames.