"You are to ride with me this afternoon, Nell," she said. "Don't ask any questions now. I'll tell you all about it by-and-by. It's a surprise." She shivered over the words. A surprise—yes, a surprise that meant the end of all things. So, presently, the three went forth from the living-room, and across the porch, and down the steps, and got into the saddles of the waiting horses. Without any exchange of words among them, they rode away. None of the three looked back—Nell, because she had no guess as to the sinister meaning of this parting; Dan, because even his calloused soul felt a twinge of shame over the ruins that he left behind; Lou, because she could not.
CHAPTER VIII
It was not until late afternoon that Jim slowly struggled back to consciousness. He was first aware of a deadly nausea, which seemed billowing through every atom of his being. Then he felt the torture that stabbed through his brain. In an effort of revolt, he raised his head, though the movement tried his strength to the utmost. His eyes swept dimly over the scene, and a dull wonder filled him. Just at first, he did not recognize the place. Very quickly, however, the acrid odors of spilled liquors and the reek of cheap perfumes from the women quickened memory. Suddenly his eyes opened wide, and he saw clearly, with new consciousness of his surroundings—and of himself. He realized that in some mysterious fashion, altogether inexplicable to him, he had been overcome in the back room of Murphy's saloon. His mind went to the period immediately preceding the blank in memory. He remembered his presence there along with the woman, Jess, and the gambler, and his taking a drink with them. Of whatever had followed, he had no knowledge. Evidently, he had suffered a seizure of some sort. As his faculties were restored, it occurred to him that he might have been drugged by the gambler or the woman, for the purpose of robbery. But a hasty examination showed that his watch and money were untouched. Besides, it seemed to him, on second thought, preposterous that either of the two should have dared anything of the kind against him. No, it was certain that he had been attacked thus without warning by some unexpected physical ailment. He was rather alarmed by the experience, as strong men usually are when unaccustomed weakness assails them. He determined to submit himself to a careful examination at the hands of a competent physician, on his first visit to the county-seat.
The nausea had subsided in some measure, and the pain in his head, too, had lessened. But he felt mouth and throat parched. He got up, moving with difficulty, and, after a few moments of unsteadiness while he held to the back of a chair for support, he was able to stand firmly enough and to walk forward to the bar.
"Give me a glass of water," he said to the bar-keeper.
The fellow obeyed with alacrity, for he knew Jim Maxwell to be a man of importance in the community, and he had been puzzled by the events of the day—even a little frightened lest trouble come of them. Jim gulped the water and demanded more. He drank a number of glasses before his thirst was even partially quenched. The effect was speedy. He felt strength returning to him. His brain was quite clear again.
The bar-tender, watching narrowly, saw that the ranch-owner was himself once more. He ventured to speak ingratiatingly, in the hope of satisfying his curiosity.
"That was quite some snoozle, Mister," he remarked, with a smirk.
"It was nothing of the sort," Jim snapped. "I don't know what it was. But it was bad enough."