When Bill Atkins with an air of impenetrable mystery invited Wilfred Compton to a ride that might keep him from his bride several days,the young man guessed that Willock had been found.Lahoma,divining as much,urged Wilfred to hasten,assured him that she enjoyed the publicity and stirring life of the Mangum hotel and expressed confidence that should she need a friend,Mizzoo would help her through any difficulty.So Wilfred rode away with Bill,and Willock was not mentioned.
Bill was evidently in deep trouble,and when Wilfred and he had let themselves down into the stone corridor whose only entrance was a crevice in the mountain-top,he understood the old trapper's deep despondency--Brick Willock was there;and Brick declared his intention of giving himself up.He announced his purpose before greetings had subsided.Bill called him an old fool,used unpruned language,scolded,rather than argued.Wilfred,on the other hand,delayed events by requesting full particulars of the last few weeks.
He's told me all he's been up to,Bill objected;there's no call to travel over that ground again.What I brought you here for,Wilfred,is to show him how foolish he'd be to let himself be taken when he's free as the wind.
I tells my tale,declared Brick,and them as has heard it once can take it or leave it.He was discursive,circumstantial,and it was a long time before he led them in fancy to the door of the boat-house and showed them Red Feather and Gledware disappearing forever beneath the surface of the lake.
There I waited,he said,expecting first one head,then the other to come to light,but nothing happened.Seemed like I couldn't move.But Edgerton,he began rowing towards me with Annabel,she happy despite herself,and when I see it wouldn't do to tarry no longer,I cuts loose the old deaf boatman and unstops his mouth.Well,sir,he lets out a yell that would a-done credit to a bobcat fighting in the traps.I had to run for it fellows from the club-house took after me thinking I'd been murdering somebody--I skinned them Ozark hills and I skinned myself.But Brick,he says,'When you turns loose a bobcat,expect scratches,'says he.
Don't tell about how you hid in the hills waiting for a night train,Bill pleaded.
I tells it all;Brick was inflexible.You are here,I'm here,and it's a safe place.We may never be so put again.
A safe place!Bill snarled.Yes,it IS a safe place.But you've lost your nerve.WAS a time,when you'd have stood out creation in a hole like this.But you've turned to salt,you have a regular Bible character--giving up to the law,letting them clap you in jail,getting yourself hanged,very likely!And all because you've lost your nerve.See here,Brick,stand 'em out!I'll steady you through thick and thin.I'll bring you grub and water.
YOU couldn't do nothing,Brick returned contemptuously,you're too old.As for that,I ain't come to the pass of needing being waited on,I guess.It ain't dangers that subdues me,it's principles.Look here!
He walked to the cross-bar that was set in the walls to guard the floor from the unknown abyss.I found out they was a hole in the rock just about five feet under the floor.I can take this rope and tie one end to the post and let myself down to that little room where there's grub enough to last a long siege,where there's bedding and common luxuries,as tobacco and the like.I ain't been smoked out,into the open,I goes free and disposed and my hands held up according.
When he had finished the last morsel of his story and had warmed some of it over for another taste,there came an ominous silence,broken at last by the querulous voice of Bill,arguing against surrender.
Willock waited in patience till his friend had exhausted himself.I ain't saying nothing,he explained to Wilfred,because he ain't pervious to reason,and it does him good to get that out of his system.
Let me make a suggestion,exclaimed Wilfred suddenly.
Willock looked at him suspiciously.If it ain't counter to my plans--It isn't.It's this:Suppose we drop the subject till tomorrow--it won't hurt any of us to sleep on it,and I know I'D enjoy another night with you,as in the old days.
I'm willing to sleep on it,out of friendship,Willock conceded unwillingly,though I'd rest easier on a bed in the jail.There never was no bird more crazy to get into a cage than I am to be shut up.But as to the old days,they ain't none left.Them deputies is in the dugout,they're in the cabin I built for Lahoma,they think they owns our cove.Well,they's no place left for me;life wouldn't be nothing,crouching and slinking up here in the rocks.Life wouldn't be nothing to me without Lahoma.I'd have a pretty chance for happiness,now wouldn't I,sitting up somewheres with Bill Atkins!I ain't saying I mightn't get out of this country and find a safe spot where I could live free and disposed with an old renegade like HIM that nobody ain't after and ain't a-caring whether he's above ground or in kingdom come.But I couldn't be with Lahoma;I'm under ban.
If you were on my farm near Oklahoma City,Wilfred suggested,and Lahoma and I lived in the city,you could often see her.Up there,nobody'd molest you,nobody'd know you.That's what I've been planning.You could look after the farm and Bill could go back and forth.As soon as the news comes that Red Feather killed Gledware,it'll be taken for granted that he killed Red Kimball and attacked the stage.You'll be cleared of all that and nobody will want you arrested.
Willock rose.Are we going to sleep on this,or shall I answer you now?he demanded fixedly.
Wilfred hastily asked for time.
They passed the night in the mountain-top,but Willock had spoken truly;there were no old days.The one subject forbidden was the only subject in their minds.All attempts at reminiscence,at irrelevant anecdotes,were mere pretense.The fact that Wilfred and Lahoma were now married seemed to banish events of a month ago as if they were years and years in the past.
