Chapter XX. Lassiter's Way

by Zane Grey

　　Footprints told the story of little Fay's abduction. In anguishJane Withersteen turned speechlessly to Lassiter, and, confirmingher fears, she saw him gray-faced, aged all in a moment, strickenas if by a mortal blow.

　　Then all her life seemed to fall about her in wreck and ruin.

　　"It's all over," she heard her voice whisper. "It's ended. I'mgoing--I'm going--"

　　"Where?" demanded Lassiter, suddenly looming darkly over her.

　　"To--to those cruel men--"

　　"Speak names!" thundered Lassiter.

　　"To Bishop Dyer--to Tull," went on Jane, shocked intoobedience.

　　"Well--what for?"

　　"I want little Fay. I can't live without her. They've stolen heras they stole Milly Erne's child. I must have little Fay. I wantonly her. I give up. I'll go and tell Bishop Dyer--I'm broken.I'll tell him I'm ready for the yoke--only give me backFay--and--and I'll marry Tull!"

　　"Never!" hissed Lassiter.

　　His long arm leaped at her. Almost running, he dragged her underthe cottonwoods, across the court, into the huge hall ofWithersteen House, and he shut the door with a force that jarredthe heavy walls. Black Star and Night and Bells, since theirreturn, had been locked in this hall, and now they stamped on thestone floor.

　　Lassiter released Jane and like a dizzy man swayed from her witha hoarse cry and leaned shaking against a table where he kept hisrider's accoutrements. He began to fumble in his saddlebags. Hisaction brought a clinking, metallic sound--the rattling ofgun-cartridges. His fingers trembled as he slipped cartridgesinto an extra belt. But as he buckled it over the one hehabitually wore his hands became steady. This second beltcontained two guns, smaller than the black ones swinging low, andhe slipped them round so that his coat hid them. Then he fell toswift action. Jane Withersteen watched him, fascinated butuncomprehending and she saw him rapidly saddle Black Star andNight. Then he drew her into the light of the huge windows,standing over her, gripping her arm with fingers like cold steel.

　　"Yes, Jane, it's ended--but you're not goin' to Dyer!...I'm goin'instead!"

　　Looking at him--he was so terrible of aspect--she could notcomprehend his words. Who was this man with the face gray asdeath, with eyes that would have made her shriek had she thestrength, with the strange, ruthlessly bitter lips? Where was thegentle Lassiter? What was this presence in the hall, about him,about her--this cold, invisible presence?

　　"Yes, it's ended, Jane," he was saying, so awfully quiet and cooland implacable, "an' I'm goin' to make a little call. I'll lockyou in here, an' when I get back have the saddle-bags full ofmeat an bread. An' be ready to ride!"

　　"Lassiter!" cried Jane.

　　Desperately she tried to meet his gray eyes, in vain, desperatelyshe tried again, fought herself as feeling and thought resurgedin torment, and she succeeded, and then she knew.

　　"No--no--no!" she wailed. "You said you'd foregone yourvengeance. You promised not to kill Bishop Dyer."

　　"If you want to talk to me about him--leave off the Bishop. Idon't understand that name, or its use."

　　"Oh, hadn't you foregone your vengeance on--on Dyer?

　　"Yes."

　　But--your actions--your words--your guns--your terrible looks!...They don't seem foregoing vengeance?"

　　"Jane, now it's justice."

　　"You'll--kill him?"

　　"If God lets me live another hour! If not God--then the devil whodrives me!"

　　"You'll kill him--for yourself--for your vengeful hate?"

　　"No!"

　　"For Milly Erne's sake?"

　　"No."

　　"For little Fay's?"

　　"No!"

　　"Oh--for whose?"

　　"For yours!"

　　"His blood on my soul!" whispered Jane, and she fell to herknees. This was the long-pending hour of fruition. And the habitof years--the religious passion of her life--leaped fromlethargy, and the long months of gradual drifting to doubt wereas if they had never been. "If you spill his blood it'll be on mysoul--and on my father's. Listen." And she clasped his knees, andclung there as he tried to raise her. "Listen. Am I nothing toyou?"

　　"Woman--don't trifle at words! I love you! An' I'll soon proveit."

　　"I'll give myself to you--I'll ride away with you--marry you, ifonly you'll spare him?"

　　His answer was a cold, ringing, terrible laugh.

　　"Lassiter--I'll love you. Spare him!"

　　"No."

　　She sprang up in despairing, breaking spirit, and encircled hisneck with her arms, and held him in an embrace that he strovevainly to loosen. "Lassiter, would you kill me? I'm fighting mylast fight for the principles of my youth--love of religion, loveof father. You don't know--you can't guess the truth, and I can'tspeak ill. I'm losing all. I'm changing. All I've gone through isnothing to this hour. Pity me-- help me in my weakness. You'restrong again--oh, so cruelly, coldly strong! You're killing me. Isee you--feel you as some other Lassiter! My master, bemerciful--spare him!"

　　His answer was a ruthless smile.

　　She clung the closer to him, and leaned her panting breast onhim, and lifted her face to his. "Lassiter, I do love you! It'sleaped out of my agony. It comes suddenly with a terrible blow oftruth. You are a man! I never knew it till now. Some wonderfulchange came to me when you buckled on these guns and showed thatgray, awful face. I loved you then. All my life I've loved, butnever as now. No woman can love like a broken woman. If it werenot for one thing--just one thing--and yet! I can't speak it--I'dglory in your manhood--the lion in you that means to slay for me.Believe me--and spare Dyer. Be merciful--great as it's in you tobe great....Oh, listen and believe--I have nothing, but I'm awoman--a beautiful woman, Lassiter--a passionate, lovingwoman--and I love you! Take me--hide me in some wild place--andlove me and mend my broken heart. Spare him and take meaway."

　　She lifted her face closer and closer to his, until their lipsnearly touched, and she hung upon his neck, and with strengthalmost spent pressed and still pressed her palpitating body tohis.

　　"Kiss me!" she whispered, blindly.

　　"No--not at your price!" he answered. His voice had changed orshe had lost clearness of hearing.

　　"Kiss me!...Are you a man? Kiss me and save me!"

　　"Jane, you never played fair with me. But now you're blisterin'your lips--blackenin' your soul with lies!"

　　"By the memory of my mother--by my Bible--no! No, I have noBible! But by my hope of heaven I swear I love you!"

　　Lassiter's gray lips formed soundless words that meant even herlove could not avail to bend his will. As if the hold of her armswas that of a child's he loosened it and stepped away.

　　"Wait! Don't go! Oh, hear a last word!...May a more just andmerciful God than the God I was taught to worship judgeme--forgive me--save me! For I can no longer keepsilent!...Lassiter, in pleading for Dyer I've been pleading morefor my father. My father was a Mormon master, close to theleaders of the church. It was my father who sent Dyer out toproselyte. It was my father who had the blue-ice eye and thebeard of gold. It was my father you got trace of in the pastyears. Truly, Dyer ruined Milly Erne--dragged her from herhome--to Utah--to Cottonwoods. But it was for my father! If MillyErne was ever wife of a Mormon that Mormon was my father! I neverknew--never will know whether or not she was a wife. Blind I maybe, Lassiter--fanatically faithful to a false religion I may havebeen but I know justice, and my father is beyond human justice.Surely he is meeting just punishment--somewhere. Always it hasappalled me--the thought of your killing Dyer for my father'ssins. So I have prayed!"

　　"Jane, the past is dead. In my love for you I forgot the past.This thing I'm about to do ain't for myself or Milly or Fay. It snot because of anythin' that ever happened in the past, but forwhat is happenin' right now. It's for you!...An' listen. Since Iwas a boy I've never thanked God for anythin'. If there is aGod--an' I've come to believe it--I thank Him now for the yearsthat made me Lassiter!...I can reach down en' feel these bigguns, en' know what I can do with them. An', Jane, only one ofthe miracles Dyer professes to believe in can save him!"

　　Again for Jane Withersteen came the spinning of her brain indarkness, and as she whirled in endless chaos she seemed to befalling at the feet of a luminous figure--a man--Lassiter--whohad saved her from herself, who could not be changed, who wouldslay rightfully. Then she slipped into utter blackness.

　　When she recovered from her faint she became aware that she waslying on a couch near the window in her sitting-room. Her browfelt damp and cold and wet, some one was chafing her hands; sherecognized Judkins, and then saw that his lean, hard face worethe hue and look of excessive agitation.

　　"Judkins!" Her voice broke weakly.

　　"Aw, Miss Withersteen, you're comin' round fine. Now jest laystill a little. You're all right; everythin's all right."

　　"Where is--he?"

　　"Who?"

　　"Lassiter!"

　　"You needn't worry none about him."

　　"Where is he? Tell me--instantly."

　　"Wal, he's in the other room patchin' up a few triflin' bulletholes."

　　"Ah!...Bishop' Dyer?"

　　"When I seen him last--a matter of half an hour ago, he was onhis knees. He was some busy, but he wasn't prayin'!"

　　"How strangely you talk! I'll sit up. I'm--well, strong again.Tell me. Dyer on his knees! What was he doing?"

　　"Wal, beggin' your pardon fer blunt talk, Miss Withersteen, Dyerwas on his knees an' not prayin'. You remember his big, broadhands? You've seen 'em raised in blessin' over old gray men an'little curly-headed children like--like Fay Larkin! Come to thinkof thet, I disremember ever hearin' of his liftin' his big handsin blessin' over a woman. Wal, when I seen him last--jest alittle while ago--he was on his knees, not prayin', as Iremarked--an' he was pressin' his big hands over some biggerwounds."

　　"Man, you drive me mad! Did Lassiter kill Dyer?"

　　"Yes."

　　"Did he kill Tull?"

　　"No. Tull's out of the village with most of his riders. He'sexpected back before evenin'. Lassiter will hev to git awaybefore Tull en' his riders come in. It's sure death fer him here.An' wuss fer you, too, Miss Withersteen. There'll be some of anuprisin' when Tull gits back."

　　"I shall ride away with Lassiter. Judkins, tell me all yousaw--all you know about this killing." She realized, withoutwonder or amaze, how Judkins's one word, affirming the death ofDyer--that the catastrophe had fallen--had completed the changewhereby she had been molded or beaten or broken into anotherwoman. She felt calm, slightly cold, strong as she had not beenstrong since the first shadow fell upon her.

　　"I jest saw about all of it, Miss Withersteen, an' I'll be gladto tell you if you'll only hev patience with me," said Judkins,earnestly. "You see, I've been pecooliarly interested, an'nat'rully I'm some excited. An' I talk a lot thet mebbe ain'tnecessary, but I can't help thet.

　　"I was at the meetin'-house where Dyer was holdin' court. Youknow he allus acts as magistrate an' judge when Tull's away. An'the trial was fer tryin' what's left of my boy riders--thethelped me hold your cattle--fer a lot of hatched-up things theboys never did. We're used to thet, an' the boys wouldn't hevminded bein' locked up fer a while, or hevin' to dig ditches, orwhatever the judge laid down. You see, I divided the gold yougive me among all my boys, an' they all hid it, en' they all feelrich. Howsomever, court was adjourned before the judge passedsentence. Yes, ma'm, court was adjourned some strange an' quick,much as if lightnin' hed struck the meetin'-house.

　　"I hed trouble attendin' the trial, but I got in. There was agood many people there, all my boys, an' Judge Dyer with hisseveral clerks. Also he hed with him the five riders who've beenguardin' him pretty close of late. They was Carter, Wright,Jengessen, an' two new riders from Stone Bridge. I didn't heartheir names, but I heard they was handy men with guns an' theylooked more like rustlers than riders. Anyway, there they was,the five all in a row.

　　"Judge Dyer was tellin' Willie Kern, one of my best an' steadiestboys-- Dyer was tellin' him how there was a ditch opened nearWillie's home lettin' water through his lot, where it hadn'tought to go. An' Willie was tryin' to git a word in to prove hewasn't at home all the day it happened--which was true, as Iknow--but Willie couldn't git a word in, an' then Judge Dyer wenton layin' down the law. An' all to onct he happened to look downthe long room. An' if ever any man turned to stone he was thetman.

　　"Nat'rully I looked back to see what hed acted so powerfulstrange on the judge. An' there, half-way up the room, in themiddle of the wide aisle, stood Lassiter! All white an' black helooked, an' I can't think of anythin' he resembled, onless it'sdeath. Venters made thet same room some still an' chilly when hecalled Tull; but this was different. I give my word, MissWithersteen, thet I went cold to my very marrow. I don't knowwhy. But Lassiter had a way about him thet's awful. He spoke aword--a name--I couldn't understand it, though he spoke clear asa bell. I was too excited, mebbe. Judge Dyer must hev understoodit, an' a lot more thet was mystery to me, for he pitched forrardout of his chair right onto the platform.

　　"Then them five riders, Dyer's bodyguards, they jumped up, an'two of them thet I found out afterward were the strangers fromStone Bridge, they piled right out of a winder, so quick youcouldn't catch your breath. It was plain they wasn't Mormons.

　　"Jengessen, Carter, an' Wright eyed Lassiter, for what must hevbeen a second an' seemed like an hour, an' they went white en'strung. But they didn't weaken nor lose their nerve.

　　"I hed a good look at Lassiter. He stood sort of stiff, bendin' alittle, an' both his arms were crooked an' his hands looked likea hawk's claws. But there ain't no tellin' how his eyes looked. Iknow this, though, an' thet is his eyes could read the mind ofany man about to throw a gun. An' in watchin' him, of course, Icouldn't see the three men go fer their guns. An' though I waslookin' right at Lassiter--lookin' hard--I couldn't see how hedrawed. He was quicker 'n eyesight--thet's all. But I seen thered spurtin' of his guns, en' heard his shots jest the verylittlest instant before I heard the shots of the riders. An' whenI turned, Wright an' Carter was down, en' Jengessen, who's toughlike a steer, was pullin' the trigger of a wabblin' gun. But itwas plain he was shot through, plumb center. An' sudden he fellwith a crash, an' his gun clattered on the floor.

　　"Then there was a hell of a silence. Nobody breathed. Sartin Ididn't, anyway. I saw Lassiter slip a smokin' gun back in a belt.But he hadn't throwed either of the big black guns, an' I thoughtthet strange. An' all this was happenin' quick--you can't imaginehow quick.

　　"There come a scrapin' on the floor an' Dyer got up, his facelike lead. I wanted to watch Lassiter, but Dyer's face, onct Iseen it like thet, glued my eyes. I seen him go fer his gun--why,I could hev done better, quicker--an' then there was a thunderin'shot from Lassiter, an' it hit Dyer's right arm, an' his gun wentoff as it dropped. He looked at Lassiter like a corneredsage-wolf, an' sort of howled, an' reached down fer his gun. He'djest picked it off the floor an' was raisin' it when anotherthunderin' shot almost tore thet arm off--so it seemed to me. Thegun dropped again an' he went down on his knees, kind offlounderin' after it. It was some strange an' terrible to see hisawful earnestness. Why would such a man cling so to life? Anyway,he got the gun with left hand an' was raisin' it, pullin' triggerin his madness, when the third thunderin' shot hit his left arm,an' he dropped the gun again. But thet left arm wasn't uselessyet, fer he grabbed up the gun, an' with a shakin' aim thet wouldhev been pitiful to me--in any other man--he began to shoot. Onewild bullet struck a man twenty feet from Lassiter. An' it killedthet man, as I seen afterward. Then come a bunch of thunderin'shots--nine I calkilated after, fer they come so quick I couldn'tcount them--an' I knew Lassiter hed turned the black guns looseon Dyer.

　　"I'm tellin' you straight, Miss Withersteen, fer I want you toknow. Afterward you'll git over it. I've seen some soul-rackin'scenes on this Utah border, but this was the awfulest. I rememberI closed my eyes, an' fer a minute I thought of the strangestthings, out of place there, such as you'd never dream would cometo mind. I saw the sage, an' runnin' hosses--an' thet's thebeautfulest sight to me--an' I saw dim things in the dark, an'there was a kind of hummin' in my ears. An' I rememberdistinctly--fer it was what made all these things whirl out of mymind an' opened my eyes--I remember distinctly it was the smellof gunpowder.

　　"The court had about adjourned fer thet judge. He was on hisknees, en' he wasn't prayin'. He was gaspin' an' tryin' to presshis big, floppin', crippled hands over his body. Lassiter hadsent all those last thunderin' shots through his body. Thet wasLassiter's way.

　　"An' Lassiter spoke, en' if I ever forgit his words I'll neverforgit the sound of his voice.

　　"'Proselyter, I reckon you'd better call quick on thet God whoreveals Hisself to you on earth, because He won't be visitin' theplace you're goin' to!"

　　"An' then I seen Dyer look at his big, hangin' hands thet wasn'tbig enough fer the last work he set them to. An' he looked up atLassiter. An' then he stared horrible at somethin' thet wasn'tLassiter, nor anyone there, nor the room, nor the branches ofpurple sage peepin' into the winder. Whatever he seen, it waswith the look of a man who discovers somethin' too late. Thet's aterrible look!...An' with a horrible understandin' cry he slidforrard on his face."

　　Judkins paused in his narrative, breathing heavily while he wipedhis perspiring brow.

　　"Thet's about all," he concluded. "Lassiter left themeetin'-house an' I hurried to catch up with him. He was bleedin'from three gunshots, none of them much to bother him. An' we comeright up here. I found you layin' in the hall, an' I hed to worksome over you."

　　Jane Withersteen offered up no prayer for Dyer's soul.

　　Lassiter's step sounded in the hall--the familiar soft,silver-clinking step--and she heard it with thrilling newemotions in which was a vague joy in her very fear of him. Thedoor opened, and she saw him, the old Lassiter, slow, easy,gentle, cool, yet not exactly the same Lassiter. She rose, andfor a moment her eyes blurred and swam in tears.

　　"Are you--all--all right?" she asked, tremulously.

　　"I reckon."

　　"Lassiter, I'll ride away with you. Hide me till danger ispast--till we are forgotten--then take me where you will. Yourpeople shall be my people, and your God my God!"

　　He kissed her hand with the quaint grace and courtesy that cameto him in rare moments.

　　"Black Star an' Night are ready," he said, simply.

　　His quiet mention of the black racers spurred Jane to action.Hurrying to her room, she changed to her rider's suit, packed herjewelry, and the gold that was left, and all the woman's apparelfor which there was space in the saddle-bags, and then returnedto the hall. Black Star stamped his iron-shod hoofs and tossedhis beautiful head, and eyed her with knowing eyes.

　　"Judkins, I give Bells to you," said Jane. "I hope you willalways keep him and be good to him."

　　Judkins mumbled thanks that he could not speak fluently, and hiseyes flashed.

　　Lassiter strapped Jane's saddle-bags upon Black Star, and led theracers out into the court.

　　"Judkins, you ride with Jane out into the sage. If you see anyriders comin' shout quick twice. An', Jane, don't look back! I'llcatch up soon. We'll get to the break into the Pass beforemidnight, an' then wait until mornin' to go down."

　　Black Star bent his graceful neck and bowed his noble head, andhis broad shoulders yielded as he knelt for Jane to mount.

　　She rode out of the court beside Judkins, through the grove,across the wide lane into the sage, and she realized that she wasleaving Withersteen House forever, and she did not look back. Astrange, dreamy, calm peace pervaded her soul. Her doom hadfallen upon her, but, instead of finding life no longer worthliving she found it doubly significant, full of sweetness as thewestern breeze, beautiful and unknown as the sage-slopestretching its purple sunset shadows before her. She became awareof Judkins's hand touching hers; she heard him speak a huskygood-by; then into the place of Bells shot the dead-black, keen,racy nose of Night, and she knew Lassiter rode besideher.

　　"Don't--look--back!" he said, and his voice, too, was notclear.

　　Facing straight ahead, seeing only the waving, shadowy sage, Janeheld out her gauntleted hand, to feel it enclosed in strongclasp. So she rode on without a backward glance at the beautifulgrove of Cottonwoods. She did not seem to think of the past ofwhat she left forever, but of the color and mystery and wildnessof the sage-slope leading down to Deception Pass, and of thefuture. She watched the shadows lengthen down the slope; she feltthe cool west wind sweeping by from the rear; and she wondered atlow, yellow clouds sailing swiftly over her and beyond.

　　"Don't look--back!" said Lassiter.

　　Thick-driving belts of smoke traveled by on the wind, and with itcame a strong, pungent odor of burning wood.

　　Lassiter had fired Withersteen House! But Jane did not look back.

　　A misty veil obscured the clear, searching gaze she had keptsteadfastly upon the purple slope and the dim lines of canyons.It passed, as passed the rolling clouds of smoke, and she saw thevalley deepening into the shades of twilight. Night came on,swift as the fleet racers, and stars peeped out to brighten andgrow, and the huge, windy, eastern heave of sage-level paledunder a rising moon and turned to silver. Blanched in moonlight,the sage yet seemed to hold its hue of purple and was infinitelymore wild and lonely. So the night hours wore on, and JaneWithersteen never once looked back.