The Complete Novels of Ernest Haycox. Ernest Haycox

HUNGERS

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      A familiar horse stood by Durbin's hardware store. Denver, stopping on the instant, ran his glance along the street and discovered Lou Redmain. The outlaw was posted in the mouth of an alley, his attention riveted on the hotel porch. Denver drew aside from the eddy of the crowd and found what held Redmain's interest. Eve Leverage sat in a porch rocker with Debbie Lunt and Steve Steers beside her.

      Even with fifty feet intervening, Denver caught a change in Redmain's dark and pointed face. The formal indifference was gone and in its stead was an utter absorption. Unaccountably it reminded Denver of a time in early boyhood when he had left his father's house, climbed a distant ridge, and saw for the first time the sweeping vastness of the prairie. It came back to him even now, that shock of surprise upon finding a world he had never known about, never dreamed of. All of an afternoon he had lain on his stomach, swelling with vague desires. And it seemed to him that Lou Redmain, staring across the street, might be going through a like turmoil of spirit.

      Denver shook his head and felt a pity for the man. All that Redmain stood for was repulsive and hateful to Eve Leverage. That dusty street might as well be a thousand miles wide, so great was the gulf separating the minds of these two. Redmain could never cross it. And Denver knew that Redmain recognized the fact; he also knew that to Redmain this was bitter knowledge.

      "Poor devil," grunted Denver. "Here he is, built like the rest of us, with the same stuff in him—and still he never will belong. And what makes the hurt still worse is to realize that but for his own folly he might have been the kind of a fellow Eve would like."

      Thinking this, Denver was considerably jarred to see Redmain suddenly square himself in the alley and walk straight for the porch. He got to the steps and whipped off his hat before Eve saw him. Steve Steers rose. Then Eve nodded her head, neither friendly nor unfriendly. Denver caught himself from going forward.

      "Here, here, this is no better than eavesdroppin'. None of my business." Turning, he went to the bank.

      To Eve the meeting came with sharp unexpectedness. It was impossible for her to like Lou Redmain. She abhorred outlawry as only a woman can whose menfolk are exposed to the dangers of outlaw violence. The black hints surrounding Redmain made her shudder. Yet she met the situation with cool detachment, inclining her head at this strange visitor whose eyes seemed to burn into her. The wind ruffled his hair as he stood soldierlike on the steps. Steve Steers cleared his throat impatiently, but Redmain never noticed Steve.

      "A pleasant day," said he, and Eve was surprised at the supple melody of his voice.

      "It has been nice," she replied.

      He seemed to listen to her words rather than to the meaning of them; and she felt the almost hungry impact of his glance. It made her flush a little. Steve was quite still. Debbie held herself scornfully back.

      "I have been looking for your father," went on Lou Redmain. "Will you tell him I have seen some of his strays away up behind Sharon Springs?"

      "I will," said Eve. "And I know he'd want me to thank you for mentioning it."

      "I already have my reward, Miss Eve."

      "How is that?"

      "Talking to you," he answered, inclining his head.

      "It seems a slim reward to me," she reflected.

      He shook his head. "It is not possible for you to know what things a lonely man finds pleasure in."

      She let the silence pile up. Redmain shifted. "Doubtless you will be going to the dance."

      "I think so."

      He appeared to brace himself, to take a deeper breath. "If I came, I wonder if you might find it possible out of the kindness of your heart to give me a dance."

      She met the question squarely, holding his eyes. "I'm sorry, Mr. Redmain, but I wouldn't want to. And I don't mean to hurt your feelings."

      He took the rejection impassively. "A man should never ask too much of a world that gives very little." Then rather gently he added, "You have not hurt my feelings. I quite understand." Raising his hat, he turned quickly and walked away toward the east end of town.

      "Why," exclaimed Debbie, "I should have slapped his face!"

      "Don't say that," rebuked Eve, looking troubled. But the trouble left her the next moment when Denver swung up to the steps and took a chair. She wrinkled her nose at him. "I have been advertising myself on this porch for one hour, David. What's wrong with my charm?"

      He chuckled. "Would have come earlier, but I saw somebody else answerin' the ad, so I waited."

      "Then why didn't you come and break into it?" Debbie asked.

      "Like to give every man a chance," drawled Denver.

      "Do you think he had much chance?" demanded Eve.

      "No-o, but the poor fellow needs a little sunshine now and then."

      "Sometimes," said Debbie, "I think the men of this county are scared to death of Lou Redmain."

      Eve grew impatient. "Debbie, you can say more foolish, unwise things!"

      "Well," retorted Debbie, "everybody knows he's an outlaw, and yet he walks into town like he owned it. Why isn't he arrested?"

      "Lack of proof," murmured Denver. "One of the funny things about justice is you've got to establish guilt before you can punish. On that score, Redmain's as free as the birds of passage."

      "Everybody knows he's guilty," said Debbie. "That's enough."

      "So you've joined the vigilantes," grinned Denver. But he sobered quickly. "I doubt if he is ever arrested. I doubt if Sundown jail ever sees him. He'll go like all outlaws go—rough and sudden, out in the hills."

      "Something ought to be done," insisted Debbie, not to be shaken.

      "Something will be done," Denver reassured her. "And the result may surprise you as well as shock you."

      "A large round fact and no mistake," chimed in Steve.

      Debbie suppressed him with a single glance and rose. "Steve, I'm going shopping. Come help me carry bundles." Denver watched them depart with doubt on his face.

      "She sure treats him rough, Eve."

      "I think it's shameful. He stands everything from her."

      "Yeah," agreed Denver casually. "But there's just one thing she doesn't know about Mister Stephen Burt Steers. When he finally puts his foot down he does it firm enough to make the welkin ring."

      The two of them settled into comfortable silence, side by side, while the sun slid to the west.

      "Sunshine's nice," said he.

      "But soon gone."

      "Not while you're around, Eve."

      "Sounds fishy," said Eve skeptically, "but I like it."

      Lou Redmain went away from the hotel with clouded eyes. He maintained a set face until, beyond the end of the street, he swung to the north and climbed a wooded trail. And at that point, no longer under inspection, he let the accumulated resentment pour out of him.

      "A pariah, an outcast! Not fit to be touched, not good enough to be danced with! That is me—Lou Redmain! I could stand hatred from her better than the pity she showed! Good God, am I not a man like the rest? Haven't I got some decency in me she could see and make allowances for? No, never! I took my trail, and now I've got to travel it alone. I'm branded, and there is no hope of change. Damn them all!"

      Even then, swayed by fury, he looked cautiously about him and ducked into a stand of pines. At the head of the trail stood a small house, and he crept beside it guardedly until he saw Lola Monterey standing in the kitchen. The door was open, and through it came the soft, throaty hum of a song. He emerged from shelter and swiftly crossed over. She heard him