to the last man-第14章
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
hope aside； and then relapsed to his former state。 He laid a brown
hand on Jean's knee。
〃Two years ago I called the cards；〃 he said； quietly。 〃It means
a Grass Valley war。〃
Not until late that afternoon did Jean's father broach the subject
uppermost in his mind。 Then at an opportune moment he drew Jean away
into the cedars out of sight。
〃Son； I shore hate to make your home…comin' unhappy；〃 he said；
with evidence of agitation； 〃but so help me God I have to do it！〃
〃Dad； you called me Prodigal； an' I reckon you were right。 I've
shirked my duty to you。 I'm ready now to make up for it；〃 replied
Jean； feelingly。
〃Wal； wal； shore thats fine…spoken； my boy。 。 。 。 Let's set down heah
an' have a long talk。 First off； what did Jim Blaisdell tell you？〃
Briefly Jean outlined the neighbor rancher's conversation。 Then Jean
recounted his experience with Colter and concluded with Blaisdell's
reception of the sheepman's threat。 If Jean expected to see his father
rise up like a lion in his wrath he made a huge mistake。 This news of
Colter and his talk never struck even a spark from Gaston Isbel。
〃Wal；〃 he began； thoughtfully； 〃reckon there are only two points in
Jim's talk I need touch on。 There's shore goin' to be a Grass Valley
war。 An' Jim's idea of the cause of it seems to be pretty much the
same as that of all the other cattlemen。 It 'll go down a black blot
on the history page of the Tonto Basin as a war between rival sheepmen
an' cattlemen。 Same old fight over water an' grass！ 。 。 。 Jean； my son；
that is wrong。 It 'll not be a war between sheepmen an' cattlemen。
But a war of honest ranchers against rustlers maskin' as sheep…raisers！
。 。 Mind you； I don't belittle the trouble between sheepmen an'
cattlemen in Arizona。 It's real an' it's vital an' it's serious。
It 'll take law an' order to straighten out the grazin' question。
Some day the government will keep sheep off of cattle ranges。 。 。 。
So get things right in your mind； my son。 You can trust your dad to
tell the absolute truth。 In this fight that 'll wipe out some of the
Isbelsmaybe all of themyou're on the side of justice an' right。
Knowin' that； a man can fight a hundred times harder than he who
knows he is a liar an' a thief。〃
The old rancher wiped his perspiring face and breathed slowly and
deeply。 Jean sensed in him the rise of a tremendous emotional strain。
Wonderingly he watched the keen lined face。 More than material worries
were at the root of brooding； mounting thoughts in his father's eyes。
〃Now next take what Jim said aboot your comin' to chase these
sheep…herders out of the valley。 。 。 。 Jean； I started that talk。
I had my tricky reasons。 I know these greaser sheep…herders an'
I know the respect Texans have for a gunman。 Some say I bragged。
Some say I'm an old fool in his dotage； ravin' aboot a favorite son。
But they are people who hate me an' are afraid。 True； son； I talked
with a purpose； but shore I was mighty cold an' steady when I did it。
My feelin' was that you'd do what I'd do if I were thirty years younger。
No； I reckoned you'd do more。 For I figured on your blood。 Jean；
you're Indian； an' Texas an' French； an' you've trained yourself in
the Oregon woods。 When you were only a boy； few marksmen I ever knew
could beat you； an' I never saw your equal for eye an' ear； for trackin'
a hoss； for all the gifts that make a woodsman。 。 。 。 Wal； rememberin'
this an' seein' the trouble ahaid for the Isbels； I just broke out
whenever I had a chance。 I bragged before men I'd reason to believe
would take my words deep。 For instance； not long ago I missed some
stock； an'； happenin' into Greaves's place one Saturday night； I shore
talked loud。 His barroom was full of men an' some of them were in my
black book。 Greaves took my talk a little testy。 He said。 'Wal； Gass；
mebbe you're right aboot some of these cattle thieves livin' among us；
but ain't they jest as liable to be some of your friends or relatives
as Ted Meeker's or mine or any one around heah？' That was where
Greaves an' me fell out。 I yelled at him： 'No； by God； they're not！
My record heah an' that of my people is open。 The least I can say
for you； Greaves； an' your crowd； is that your records fade away on
dim trails。' Then he said； nasty…like； 'Wal； if you could work out
all the dim trails in the Tonto you'd shore be surprised。' An' then
I roared。 Shore that was the chance I was lookin' for。 I swore the
trails he hinted of would be tracked to the holes of the rustlers who
made them。 I told him I had sent for you an' when you got heah these
slippery； mysterious thieves； whoever they were； would shore have hell
to pay。 Greaves said he hoped so； but he was afraid I was partial to
my Indian son。 Then we had hot words。 Blaisdell got between us。
When I was leavin' I took a partin' fling at him。 'Greaves； you
ought to know the Isbels； considerin' you're from Texas。 Maybe you've
got reasons for throwin' taunts at my claims for my son Jean。 Yes；
he's got Indian in him an' that 'll be the worse for the men who will
have to meet him。 I'm tellin' you； Greaves； Jean Isbel is the black
sheep of the family。 If you ride down his record you'll find he's
shore in line to be another Poggin； or Reddy Kingfisher； or Hardin'；
or any of the Texas gunmen you ought to remember。 。 。 。 Greaves；
there are men rubbin' elbows with you right heah that my Indian
son is goin' to track down！' 〃
Jean bent his head in stunned cognizance of the notoriety with which
his father had chosen to affront any and all Tonto Basin men who were
under the ban of his suspicion。 What a terrible reputation and trust
to have saddled upon him！ Thrills and strange； heated sensations
seemed to rush together inside Jean； forming a hot ball of fire that
threatened to explode。 A retreating self made feeble protests。
He saw his own pale face going away from this older； grimmer man。
〃Son； if I could have looked forward to anythin' but blood spillin'
I'd never have given you such a name to uphold；〃 continued the rancher。
〃What I'm goin' to tell you now is my secret。 My other sons an' Ann
have never heard it。 Jim Blaisdell suspects there's somethin' strange；
but he doesn't know。 I'll shore never tell anyone else but you。
An' you must promise to keep my secret now an' after I am gone。〃
〃I promise；〃 said Jean。
〃Wal； an' now to get it out；〃 began his father； breathing hard。
His face twitched and his hands clenched。 〃The sheepman heah I
have to reckon with is Lee Jorth； a lifelong enemy of mine。 We
were born in the same town； played together as children； an' fought
with each other as boys。 We never got along together。 An' we both
fell in love with the same girl。 It was nip an' tuck for a while。
Ellen Sutton belonged to one of the old families of the South。
She was a beauty； an' much courted； an' I reckon it was hard for
her to choose。 But I won her an' we became engaged。 Then the war
broke out。 I enlisted with my brother Jean。 He advised me to marry
Ellen before I left。 But I would not。 That was the blunder of my life。
Soon after our partin' her letters ceased to come。 But I didn't
distrust her。 That was a terrible time an' all was confusion。
Then I got crippled an' put in a hospital。 An' in aboot a year
I was sent back home。〃
At this juncture Jean refrained from further gaze at his father's face。
Lee Jorth had gotten out of goin' to war；〃 went on the rancher；
in lower； thicker voice。 〃He'd married my sweetheart； Ellen。 。 。 。
I knew the story long before I got well。 He had run after her like
a hound after a hare。 。 。 。 An' Ellen married him。 Wal； when I was
able to get aboot I went to see Jorth an' Ellen。 I confronted them。
I had to know why she had gone back on me。 Lee Jorth hadn't changed
any with all his good fortune。 He'd made Ellen believe in my dishonor。
But； I reckon； lies or no lies； Ellen Sutton was faithless。 In my
absence he had won her away from me。 An' I saw that she loved him
as she never had me。 I reckon that killed all my generosity。 If she'd
been imposed upon an' weaned away by his lies an' had regretted me a
little I'd have forgiven； perhaps。 But
