Chapter 14

THROUGH THE VALLEY

Sampson looked strangely at the great bloody blot on my breast and his look made me conscious of a dark hurrying of my mind.  Morton came stamping up the steps with blunt queries, with anxious mien.  When he saw the front of me he halted, threw wide his arms.

“There come the girls!” suddenly exclaimed Sampson.  “Morton, help me drag Wright inside.  They mustn’t see him.”

I was facing down the porch toward the court and corrals.  Miss Sampson and Sally had come in sight, were swiftly approaching, evidently alarmed.  Steele, no doubt, had remained out at the camp.  I was watching them, wondering what they would do and say presently, and then Sampson and Johnson came to carry me indoors.  They laid me on the couch in the parlor where the girls used to be so often.

“Russ, you’re pretty hard hit,” said Sampson, bending over me, with his hands at my breast.  The room was bright with sunshine, yet the light seemed to be fading.

“Reckon I am,” I replied.

“I’m sorry.  If only you could have told me sooner!  Wright, damn him!  Always I’ve split over him!”

“But the last time, Sampson.”

“Yes, and I came near driving you to kill me, too.  Russ, you talked me out of it.  For Diane’s sake!  She’ll be in here in a minute.  This’ll be harder than facing a gun.”

“Hard now.  But it’ll—­turn out—­O.K.”

“Russ, will you do me a favor?” he asked, and he seemed shamefaced.

“Sure.”

“Let Diane and Sally think Wright shot you.  He’s dead.  It can’t matter.  And you’re hard hit.  The girls are fond of you.  If—­if you go under—­Russ, the old side of my life is coming back.  It’s been coming.  It’ll be here just about when she enters this room.  And by God, I’d change places with you if I could.”

“Glad you—­said that, Sampson,” I replied.  “And sure—­Wright plugged me.  It’s our secret.  I’ve a reason, too, not—­that—­it—­matters—­much—­now.”

The light was fading.  I could not talk very well.  I felt dumb, strange, locked in ice, with dull little prickings of my flesh, with dim rushing sounds in my ears.  But my mind was clear.  Evidently there was little to be done.  Morton came in, looked at me, and went out.  I heard the quick, light steps of the girls on the porch, and murmuring voices.

“Where’m I hit?” I whispered.

“Three places.  Arm, shoulder, and a bad one in the breast.  It got your lung, I’m afraid.  But if you don’t go quick, you’ve a chance.”

“Sure I’ve a chance.”

“Russ, I’ll tell the girls, do what I can for you, then settle with Morton and clear out.”

Just then Diane and Sally entered the room.  I heard two low cries, so different in tone, and I saw two dim white faces.  Sally flew to my side and dropped to her knees.  Both hands went to my face, then to my breast.  She lifted them, shaking.  They were red.  White and mute she gazed from them to me.  But some woman’s intuition kept her from fainting.