“It’s your say-so, Black. But there will be a day when it ain’t. Don’t forget that.”
“And in the meantime you’ll ride the Flattops when I give the word?”
Boone nodded sulkily. “I said you had the call, didn’t I?”
“Then ride ’em now, damn you. And don’t show up in the Cache till to-morrow night.”
MacQueen turned on his heel and strutted away. He was elated at his easy victory. If he had seen the look that followed him he might not have been so quiet in his mind. 268
But on the surface he had cinched his leadership. Boone saddled and rode out of the Cache without another word to anybody. Sullen and vindictive he might be, but cowed he certainly seemed. MacQueen celebrated by frequent trips to his sleeping quarters, where each time he resorted to a bottle and a glass. No man had ever seen him intoxicated, but there were times when he drank a good deal for a few days at a stretch. His dissipation would be followed by months of total abstinence.
All day the man persecuted Melissy with his attentions. His passion was veiled under a manner of mock deference, of insolent assurance, but as the hours passed the fears of the girl grew upon her. There were moments when she turned sick with waves of dread. In the sunshine, under the open sky, she could hold her own, but under cover of the night’s blackness ghastly horrors would creep toward her to destroy.
Nor was there anybody to whom she might turn for help. Lane and Jackson were tools of their leader. The Mexican woman could do nothing even if she would. Boone alone might have helped her, and he had ridden away to save his own skin. So MacQueen told her to emphasize his triumph and her helplessness.
To her fancy dusk fell over the valley like a pall. It brought with it the terrible night, under cover of which unthinkable things might be done. With no appetite, she sat down to supper opposite her 269 captor. To see him gloat over her made her heart sink. Her courage was of no avail against the thing that threatened.
Supper over, he made her sit with him on the porch for an hour to listen to his boasts of former conquests. And when he let her take her way to her room it was not “Good-night” but a mocking “Au revoir” he murmured as he bent to kiss her hand.