to the last man-第42部分

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man　was　Blue。　　Jean　needed　only　one　flashing　look　at　Blue's　face；　at　his
leveled；　quivering　guns；　to　understand　why　he　had　chosen　this　trick。

〃Who're…you？〃　demanded　Jorth；　in　husky　pants。

〃Reckon　I'm　Isbel's　right…hand　man；〃　came　the　biting　reply。
〃Once　tolerable　well　known　in　Texas。　。　。　。　KING　FISHER！〃

The　name　must　have　been　a　guarantee　of　death。　　Jorth　recognized　this
outlaw　and　realized　his　own　fate。　　In　the　lamplight　his　face　turned
a　pale　greenish　white。　　His　outstretched　hand　began　to　quiver　down。

Blue's　left　gun　seemed　to　leap　up　and　flash　red　and　explode。　　Several
heavy　reports　merged　almost　as　one。　　Jorth's　arm　jerked　limply；　flinging
his　gun。　　And　his　body　sagged　in　the　middle。　　His　hands　fluttered　like
crippled　wings　and　found　their　way　to　his　abdomen。　　His　death…pale　face　
never　changed　its　set　look　nor　position　toward　Blue。　　But　his　gasping
utterance　was　one　of　horrible　mortal　fury　and　terror。　　Then　he　began
to　sway；　still　with　that　strange；　rigid　set　of　his　face　toward　his
slayer；　until　he　fell。

His　fall　broke　the　spell。　　Even　Blue；　like　the　gunman　he　was；　had　paused
to　watch　Jorth　in　his　last　mortal　action。　　Jorth's　followers　began　to
draw　and　shoot。　　Jean　saw　Blue's　return　fire　bring　down　a　huge　man；
who　fell　across　Jorth's　body。　　Then　Jean；　quick　as　the　thought　that
actuated　him；　raised　his　rifle　and　shot　at　the　big　lamp。　　It　burst　in
a　flare。　　It　crashed　to　the　floor。　　Darkness　followeda　blank；　thick；
enveloping　mantle。　　Then　red　flashes　of　guns　emphasized　the　blackness。
Inside　the　store　there　broke　loose　a　pandemonium　of　shots；　yells；　curses；
and　thudding　boots。　　Jean　shoved　his　rifle　barrel　inside　the　door　and；
holding　it　low　down；　he　moved　it　to　and　fro　while　he　worked　lever　and
trigger　until　the　magazine　was　empty。　　Then；　drawing　his　six…shooter；
he　emptied　that。　　A　roar　of　rifles　from　the　front　of　the　store　told
Jean　that　his　comrades　had　entered　the　fray。　　Bullets　zipped　through
the　door　he　had　broken。　　Jean　ran　swiftly　round　the　corner；　taking　care
to　sheer　off　a　little　to　the　left；　and　when　he　got　clear　of　the　building
he　saw　a　line　of　flashes　in　the　middle　of　the　road。　　Blaisdell　and　the
others　were　firing　into　the　door　of　the　store。　　With　nimble　fingers
Jean　reloaded　his　rifle。　　Then　swiftly　he　ran　across　the　road　and　down
to　get　behind　his　comrades。　　Their　shooting　had　slackened。　　Jean　saw
dark　forms　coming　his　way。

〃Hello；　Blaisdell！〃　he　called；　warningly。

〃That　y'u；　Jean？〃　returned　the　rancher；　looming　up。　　〃Wal；　we　wasn't
worried　aboot　y'u。〃

〃Blue？〃　queried　Jean；　sharply。

A　little；　dark　figure　shuffled　past　Jean。　　〃Howdy；　Jean！〃　said　Blue；
dryly。　　〃Y'u　shore　did　your　part。　　Reckon　I'll　need　to　be　tied　up；
but　I　ain't　hurt　much。〃

〃Colmor's　hit；〃　called　the　voice　of　Gordon；　a　few　yards　distant。
〃Help　me；　somebody！〃

Jean　ran　to　help　Gordon　uphold　the　swaying　Colmor。　　〃Are　you　hurt…bad？〃
asked　Jean；　anxiously。　　The　young　man's　head　rolled　and　hung。　　He　was　
breathing　hard　and　did　not　reply。　　They　had　almost　to　carry　him。

〃Come　on；　men！〃　called　Blaisdell；　turning　back　toward　the　others　who
were　still　firing。　　〃We'll　let　well　enough　alone。　。　。　。　Fredericks；
y'u　an'　Bill　help　me　find　the　body　of　the　old　man。　　It's　heah　somewhere。〃

Farther　on　down　the　road　the　searchers　stumbled　over　Gaston　Isbel。
They　picked　him　up　and　followed　Jean　and　Gordon；　who　were　supporting
the　wounded　Colmor。　　Jean　looked　back　to　see　Blue　dragging　himself
along　in　the　rear。　　It　was　too　dark　to　see　distinctly；　nevertheless；
Jean　got　the　impression　that　Blue　was　more　severely　wounded　than　he
had　claimed　to　be。　　The　distance　to　Meeker's　cabin　was　not　far；　but
it　took　what　Jean　felt　to　be　a　long　and　anxious　time　to　get　there。
Colmor　apparently　rallied　somewhat。　　When　this　procession　entered
Meeker's　yard；　Blue　was　lagging　behind。

〃Blue；　how　air　y'u？　〃　called　Blaisdell；　with　concern。

〃Wal；　I　gotmy　bootsonanyhow；〃　replied　Blue；　huskily。

He　lurched　into　the　yard　and　slid　down　on　the　grass　and　stretched　out。

〃Man！　　Y'u're　hurt　bad！〃　exclaimed　Blaisdell。　　The　others　halted　in
their　slow　march　and；　as　if　by　tacit；　unspoken　word；　lowered　the　body
of　Isbel　to　the　ground。　　Then　Blaisdell　knelt　beside　Blue。　　Jean　left
Colmor　to　Gordon　and　hurried　to　peer　down　into　Blue's　dim　face。

〃No；　I　ain'thurt；〃　said　Blue；　in　a　much　weaker　voice。　　I'mjest
killed！　。　。　。　It　was　Queen！　。　。　。　Y'u　all　heerd　meQueen　wasonly
bad　man　in　that　lot。　　I　knowed　it。　。　。　。　I　couldhev　killed　him。　。　。　。
But　I　wasafter　Lee　Jorth　an'　his　brothers。　。　。　。〃

Blue's　voice　failed　there。

〃Wal！〃　ejaculated　Blaisdell。

〃Shore　was　funnyJorth's　facewhen　I　saidKing　Fisher；〃　whispered
Blue。　　〃Funnierwhen　I　boredhim　through。　。　。　。　But　itwasQueen〃

His　whisper　died　away。

〃Blue！〃　called　Blaisdell；　sharply。　　Receiving　no　answer；　he　bent　lower
in　the　starlight　and　placed　a　hand　upon　the　man's　breast。

〃Wal；　he's　gone。　。　。　。　I　wonder　if　he　really　was　the　old　Texas　King
Fisher。　　No　one　would　ever　believe　it。　。　。　。　But　if　he　killed　the　Jorths；
I'll　shore　believe　him。



CHAPTER　X

Two　weeks　of　lonely　solitude　in　the　forest　had　worked　incalculable
change　in　Ellen　Jorth。

Late　in　June　her　father　and　her　two　uncles　had　packed　and　ridden　off
with　Daggs；　Colter；　and　six　other　men；　all　heavily　armed；　some　somber
with　drink；　others　hard　and　grim　with　a　foretaste　of　fight。　　Ellen　had
not　been　given　any　orders。　　Her　father　had　forgotten　to　bid　her　good…by
or　had　avoided　it。　　Their　dark　mission　was　stamped　on　their　faces。

They　had　gone　and；　keen　as　had　been　Ellen's　pang；　nevertheless；　their
departure　was　a　relief。　　She　had　heard　them　bluster　and　brag　so　often
that　she　had　her　doubts　of　any　great　Jorth…Isbel　war。　　Barking　dogs　did
not　bite。　　Somebody；　perhaps　on　each　side；　would　be　badly　wounded；
possibly　killed；　and　then　the　feud　would　go　on　as　before；　mostly　talk。
Many　of　her　former　impressions　had　faded。　　Development　had　been　so
rapid　and　continuous　in　her　that　she　could　look　back　to　a　day…by…day
transformation。　　At　night　she　had　hated　the　sight　of　herself　and　when
the　dawn　came　she　would　rise；　singing。

Jorth　had　left　Ellen　at　home　with　the　Mexican　woman　and　Antonio。
Ellen　saw　them　only　at　meal　times；　and　often　not　then；　for　she
frequently　visited　old　John　Sprague　or　came　home　late　to　do　her
own　cooking。

It　was　but　a　short　distance　up　to　Sprague's　cabin；　and　since　she　had
stopped　riding　the　black　horse；　Spades；　she　walked。　　Spades　was
accustomed　to　having　grain；　and　in　the　mornings　he　would　come　down
to　the　ranch　and　whistle。　　Ellen　had　vowed　she　would　never　feed　the
horse　and　bade　Antonio　do　it。　　But　one　morning　Antonio　was　absent。
She　fed　Spades　herself。　　When　she　laid　a　hand　on　him　and　when　he　rubbed
his　nose　against　her　shoulder　she　was　not　quite　so　sure　she　hated　him。
〃Why　should　I？〃　she　queried。　　〃A　horse　cain't　help　it　if　he　belongs
toto〃　　Ellen　was　not　sure　of　anything　except　that　more　and　more
it　grew　good　to　be　alone。

A　whole　day　in　the　lonely　forest　passed　swiftly；　yet　it　left　a　feeling
of　long　time。　　She　lived　by　her　thoughts。　　Always　the　morning　was　bright；
sunny；　sweet　and　fragrant　and　colorful；　and　her　mood　was　pensive；　wistful；
dreamy。　　And　always；　just　as　surely　as　the　hours　passed；　thought　intruded
upon　her　happiness；　and　thought　brought　memory；　and　memory　brought　shame；
and　shame　brought　fight。　　Sunset　after　sunset　she　had　dragged　herself
back　to　the　ranch；　sullen　and　sick　and　beaten。　　Yet　she　never　ceased
to　struggle。

The　July　storms　came；　and　the　forest　floor　that　had　been　so　sear　and
brown　and　dry　and　dusty　changed　as　if　by　magic。　　The　green　grass　shot
up；　the　flowers　bloomed；　and　along　the　canyon　beds　of　lacy　ferns　swayed
in　the　wind　and　bent　their　graceful　tips　over　the　amber…colored　water。
Ellen　haunted　these　cool　dells；　these　pine…shaded；　mossy…rocked　ravines
where　the　brooks　tinkled　and　the　deer　came　down　to　drink。　　She　wandered
alone。　　But　there　grew　to　be　company　in　the　aspens　and　the　music　of　the
little　waterfalls。　　If　she　could　have　lived　in　that　solitude　always；
never　returning　to　the　ranch　home　that　reminded　her　of　her　name；　she
could　have　forgotten　and　have　been　happy。

She　loved　the　storms。　　It　was　a　dry　country　and　she　had　learned　through
years　to　welcome　the　creamy　clouds　that　rolled　from　the　southwest。　　They
came　sailing　and　clustering　and　darkening　at　last　to　form　a　great；　purple；
angry　mass　that　appeared　to　lodge　against　the　mountain　rim　and　burst　into
dazzling　streaks　of　lightning　and　gray　palls　of　rain。　　Lightning　seldom
struck　near　the　ranch；　but　up　on　the　Rim　there　was　never　a　storm　that
did　not　splinter　and　crash　some　of　the　noble　pines。　　During　the　storm
season　sheep　herders　and　woodsmen　generally　did　not　camp　under　the　pines。
Fear　of　lightning　was　inborn　in　the　natives；　but　for　Ellen　the　dazzling
white　streaks　or　the　tremendous　splitting；　crackling　shock；　or　the
thunderous　boom　and　rumble　along　the　battlements　of　the　Rim　had　no
terrors。　　A　storm　eased　her　breast。　　Deep　in　her　heart　was　a　hidden
gathering　storm。　　And　somehow；　to　be　out　when　the　elements　were　warring；
when　the　earth　trembled　and　the　heavens　seemed　to　burst　asunder；
afforded　her　strange　relief。

The