CHAPTER XIX
DYNAMITE
EARLY in the evening Cherry Malotte opened her door to find the Bronco Kid on her step. He entered and threw off his rubber coat. Knowing him well, she waited for his disclosure of his errand. His sallow skin was without trace of color, his eyes were strangely tired, deep lines had gathered about his lips, while his hands kept up constant little nervous explorations as though for days and nights he had not slept and now hovered on the verge of some hysteria. He gave her the impression of a smouldering mine with the fire eating close up to the powder. She judged that his body had been racked by every passion till now it hung jaded and weary, yielding only to the spur of his restless, revengeful spirit.
After a few objectless remarks, he began, abruptly:
“Do you love Roy Glenister?” His voice, like his manner, was jealously eager, and he watched her carefully as she replied, without quibble or deceit:
“Yes, Kid; and I always shall. He is the only true man I have ever known, and I’m not ashamed of my feelings.”
For a long time he studied her, and then broke into rapid speech, allowing her no time for interruption.
“I’ve held back and held back because I’m no talker. I can’t be, in my business; but this is my last chance, and I want to put myself right with you. I’ve loved you ever since the Dawson days, not in the way you’d expect from a man of my sort, perhaps, but with the kind of love that a woman wants. I never showed my hand, for what was the use? That man outheld me. I’d have quit faro years back only I wouldn’t leave this country as long as you were a part of it, and up here I’m only a gambler, fit for nothing else. I’d made up my mind to let you have him till something happened a couple of months ago, but now it can’t go through. I’ll have to down him. It isn’t concerning you—I’m not a welcher. No, it’s a thing I can’t talk about, a thing that’s made me into a wolf, made me skulk and walk the alleys like a dago. It’s put murder into my heart. I’ve tried to assassinate him. I tried it here last night—but—I was a gentleman once—till the cards came. He knows the answer now, though, and he’s ready for me—so one of us will go out like a candle when we meet. I felt that I had to tell you before I cut him down or before he got me.”
“You’re talking like a madman, Kid,” she replied, “and you mustn’t turn against him now. He has troubles enough. I never knew you cared for me. What a tangle it is, to be sure. You love me, I love him, he loves that girl, and she loves a crook. Isn’t that tragedy enough without your adding to it? You come at a bad time, too, for I’m half insane. There’s something dreadful in the air to-night—”
“I’ll have to kill him,” the man muttered, doggedly, and, plead or reason as she would, she could get nothing from him except those words, till at last she turned upon him fiercely.
“You say you love me. Very well—let’s see if you do. I know the kind of a man you are and I know what this feud will mean to him, coming just at this time. Put it aside and I’ll marry you.”