to the last man-第8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！
They saw him as if he had been merely thin air。
〃Good evenin'；〃 said Jean。
After what appeared to Jean a lapse of time sufficient to impress him
with a possible deafness of these men； the gaunt…faced one said；
〃Howdy； Isbel！ 〃
The tone was impersonal； dry； easy； cool； laconic； and yet it could
not have been more pregnant with meaning。 Jean's sharp sensibilities
absorbed much。 None of the slouch…sombreroed； long…mustached Texans
for so Jean at once classed themhad ever seen Jean； but they knew
him and knew that he was expected in Grass Valley。 All but the one
who had spoken happened to have their faces in shadow under the
wide…brimmed black hats。 Motley…garbed； gun…belted； dusty…booted；
they gave Jean the same impression of latent force that he had
encountered in Colter。
〃Will somebody please tell me where to find my father； Gaston Isbel？〃
inquired Jean； with as civil a tongue as he could command。
Nobody paid the slightest attention。 It was the same as if Jean had
not spoken。 Waiting； half amused； half irritated； Jean shot a rapid
glance around the store。 The place had felt bare； and Jean； peering
back through gloomy space； saw that it did not contain much。 Dry goods
and sacks littered a long rude counter； long rough shelves divided
their length into stacks of canned foods and empty sections； a low
shelf back of the counter held a generous burden of cartridge boxes；
and next to it stood a rack of rifles。 On the counter lay open cases
of plug tobacco； the odor of which was second in strength only to that
of rum。
Jean's swift…roving eye reverted to the men； three of whom were
absorbed in the greasy checkerboard。 The fourth man was the one
who had spoken and he now deigned to look at Jean。 Not much flesh
was there stretched over his bony； powerful physiognomy。 He stroked
a lean chin with a big mobile hand that suggested more of bridle
holding than familiarity with a bucksaw and plow handle。 It was
a lazy hand。 The man looked lazy。 If he spoke at all it would be
with lazy speech。 yet Jean had not encountered many men to whom he
would have accorded more potency to stir in him the instinct of
self…preservation。
〃Shore；〃 drawled this gaunt…faced Texan； 〃old Gass lives aboot a mile
down heah。 〃With slow sweep of the big hand he indicated a general
direction to the south； then； appearing to forget his questioner；
he turned his attention to the game。
Jean muttered his thanks and； striding out； he mounted again； and
drove the pack mule down the road。 〃Reckon I've ran into the wrong
folds to…day；〃 he said。 〃If I remember dad right he was a man to make
an' keep friends。 Somehow I'll bet there's goin' to be hell。〃 Beyond
the store were some rather pretty and comfortable homes； little ranch
houses back in the coves of the hills。 The road turned west and Jean
saw his first sunset in the Tonto Basin。 It was a pageant of purple
clouds with silver edges； and background of deep rich gold。 Presently
Jean met a lad driving a cow。 〃Hello； Johnny！〃 he said； genially； and
with a double purpose。 〃My name's Jean Isbel。 By Golly！ I'm lost in
Grass Valley。 Will you tell me where my dad lives？〃
〃Yep。 Keep right on； an' y'u cain't miss him；〃 replied the lad； with
a bright smile。 〃He's lookin' fer y'u。〃
〃How do you know； boy？〃 queried Jean； warmed by that smile。
〃Aw； I know。 It's all over the valley thet y'u'd ride in ter…day。
Shore I wus the one thet tole yer dad an' he give me a dollar。〃
〃Was he glad to hear it？〃 asked Jean； with a queer sensation in
his throat。
〃Wal； he plumb was。〃
〃An' who told you I was goin' to ride in to…day？〃
〃I heerd it at the store；〃 replied the lad； with an air of confidence。
〃Some sheepmen was talkin' to Greaves。 He's the storekeeper。 I was
settin' outside； but I heerd。 A Mexican come down off the Rim ter…day
an' he fetched the news。〃 Here the lad looked furtively around； then
whispered。 〃An' thet greaser was sent by somebody。 I never heerd no
more； but them sheepmen looked pretty plumb sour。 An' one of them；
comin' out； give me a kick； darn him。 It shore is the luckedest day
fer us cowmen。〃
〃How's that； Johnny？〃
〃Wal； that's shore a big fight comin' to Grass Valley。 My dad says
so an' he rides fer yer dad。 An' if it comes now y'u'll be heah。〃
〃Ahuh！〃 laughed Jean。 〃An' what then； boy？〃
The lad turned bright eyes upward。 〃Aw； now； yu'all cain't come thet
on me。 Ain't y'u an Injun； Jean Isbel？ Ain't y'u a hoss tracker thet
rustlers cain't fool？ Ain't y'u a plumb dead shot？ Ain't y'u wuss'ern
a grizzly bear in a rough…an'…tumble？ 。 。 。 Now ain't y'u； shore？〃
Jean bade the flattering lad a rather sober good day and rode on
his way。 Manifestly a reputation somewhat difficult to live up to
had preceded his entry into Grass Valley。
Jean's first sight of his future home thrilled him through。 It was
a big； low； rambling log structure standing well out from a wooded
knoll at the edge of the valley。 Corrals and barns and sheds lay
off at the back。 To the fore stretched broad pastures where numberless
cattle and horses grazed。 At sunset the scene was one of rich color。
Prosperity and abundance and peace seemed attendant upon that ranch；
lusty voices of burros braying and cows bawling seemed welcoming Jean。
A hound bayed。 The first cool touch of wind fanned Jean's cheek and
brought a fragrance of wood smoke and frying ham。
Horses in the Pasture romped to the fence and whistled at these
newcomers。 Jean espied a white…faced black horse that gladdened
his sight。 〃Hello； Whiteface！ I'll sure straddle you；〃 called Jean。
Then up the gentle slope he saw the tall figure of his fatherthe
same as he had seen him thousands of times； bareheaded； shirt sleeved；
striding with long step。 Jean waved and called to him。
〃Hi； You Prodigal！〃 came the answer。 Yes； the voice of his father
and Jean's boyhood memories flashed。 He hurried his horse those last
few rods。 Nodad was not the same。 His hair shone gray。
〃Here I am； dad；〃 called Jean； and then he was dismounting。 A deep；
quiet emotion settled over him； stilling the hurry； the eagerness；
the pang in his breast。
〃Son； I shore am glad to see you；〃 said his father； and wrung his hand。
〃Wal； wal； the size of you！ Shore you've grown； any how you favor
your mother。〃
Jean felt in the iron clasp of hand； in the uplifting of the handsome
head； in the strong； fine light of piercing eyes that there was no
difference in the spirit of his father。 But the old smile could not
hide lines and shades strange to Jean。
〃Dad； I'm as glad as you；〃 replied Jean； heartily。 〃It seems long
we've been parted； now I see you。 Are You well； dad； an' all right？〃
〃Not complainin'； son。 I can ride all day same as ever；〃 he said。
〃Come。 Never mind your hosses。 They'll be looked after。
Come meet the folks。 。 。 。 Wal； wal； you got heah at last。〃
On the porch of the house a group awaited Jean's coming； rather
silently； he thought。 Wide…eyed children were there； very shy and
watchful。 The dark face of his sister corresponded with the image
of her in his memory。 She appeared taller； more womanly； as she
embraced him。 〃Oh； Jean； Jean； I'm glad you've come！〃 she cried；
and pressed him close。 Jean felt in her a woman's anxiety for the
present as well as affection for the past。 He remembered his aunt
Mary； though he had not seen her for years。 His half brothers；
Bill and Guy； had changed but little except perhaps to grow lean
and rangy。 Bill resembled his father； though his aspect was jocular
rather than serious。 Guy was smaller； wiry； and hard as rock； with
snapping eyes in a brown； still face； and he had the bow…legs of a
cattleman。 Both had married in Arizona。 Bill's wife； Kate； was a
stout； comely little woman； mother of three of the children。 The
other wife was young； a strapping girl； red headed and freckled； with
wonderful lines of pain and strength in her face。 Jean remembered；
as he looked at her； that some one had written him about the tragedy
in her life。 When she was only a child the Apaches had murdered all
her family。 Then next to greet Jean were the little children； all shy；
yet
