Lost Pueblo (1992) Read online

  "Indeed. I see. You've never been away from this raw crude Arizona," replied Mrs. Durland, apologizing for his ignorance. "Do many tourists come here to this Becky--something or other?"

  "Very few. We don't encourage them."

  "There, Mother. I told you so," broke in Bert, who had been staring hard at Randolph. "Is there any resort for tourists near?" asked Mrs. Durland.

  "Bennet's trading post is the nearest habitation of white folks. But you'd hardly call it a resort."

  "I should say not. We stopped there to get ready for this trip... May I ask your name?"

  "Phillip Randolph, at your service, Madam."

  "Randolph? Surely that's the name we heard. You're an archaeologist, I understand."

  "Yes, Madam," returned Randolph, shortly. "Work for the government, don't you?"

  "Yes."

  "And you're the Mr. Randolph. Well, I'm sorry for you. There's a Mr. Elliot at the post now. He came the day we arrived. He's from Washington, D. C. I heard Mr. Bennet say he was furious that you had gone to this Becky--place before the time scheduled, and it would likely cost you your job."

  "Mr. Elliot at the post! Well, that is a surprise," returned Randolph, quite perturbed.

  "I daresay. It's too bad. I'm sorry for you. But you might find decent work somewhere. You look stronger than those bowlegged cowboys."

  "Thank you. Yes, I think I am rather strong. You spoke of cowboys. Were they--did you see any round the post?"

  "Cowboys! I rather think so. They nearly rode us down. Stopped our car to keep us from being killed by stampeding cattle. One of them was tow-headed, and pretty fresh, to say the least."

  "Cattle stampede! Oh, Lord!" muttered Randolph, in distress.

  "What did you say?" asked Mrs. Durland. "I--I was just talking to myself," replied Randolph, hastily.

  "We are looking for Miss Janey Endicott and her party," interrupted Bert, with importance. "I'll give you ten dollars to guide us to her camp."

  "There you go, Bert Durland, flinging money to the four winds," declared his mother.

  "Miss Janey Endicott and party!" echoed Randolph.

  "That's what I said," returned the young man, testily. "Mr. Endicott informed me. I'm a very dear friend of Janey's--in fact of the family."

  "Did Endicott say how many were in the party?" inquired Randolph.

  "No. I gathered there were several. People from the post. Where are they camped?"

  "Not here. I have not seen any--party. Do you mean you've ridden all the way out here to see Miss Endicott?"

  "Certainly. Do you know her?" replied Bert, suspiciously.

  "I think I've seen the young woman," said Randolph, dryly.

  "You haven't. Any man who ever saw Janey Endicott wouldn't think he'd seen her. He'd never forget her."

  "Oh, excuse me, perhaps I'm wrong. The person I saw was about twenty, and acted fifteen, and dressed as if she were ten. Very coy and vivacious, and wild, I may say. She was not bad looking."

  "Miss Endicott is strikingly beautiful, one of the loveliest girls in New York," returned young Durland, grandly.

  The expression on Phil's face made Janey want to shout with glee.

  Mrs. Durland had been looking at the bits of broken pottery and stone utensils which lay carefully arranged on a flat rock.

  "Is this the kind of bric-a-brac you dig for?" she inquired. "You appear to be careless with it."

  "It's broken when we find it, Madam. I could not be careless with such priceless relics."

  "Priceless? That lot of junk!" interposed Bert, in amazement.

  "We would like to see a little of your--your place here," said Mrs. Durland, graciously. "Then I will engage you to fmd Miss Endicott's camp for us."

  "Beckyshibeta is very dangerous," returned Randolph. "You have to climb over rough rocks."

  "Excuse me from climbing. But we'll take a look. Come, son."

  "I don't care anything about Bechyshib--or Beckysharp," responded Bert. "I want to see Janey Endicott."

  "What! After our long journey out here to see this wonderful place?"

  "You called it beastly before Professor Randolph dropped in," replied Bert, scornfully.

  "Oh, dear, this generation. No appreciation of art or love of the beautiful!"

  "I'll have a look up the canyon to see if Miss Endicott--and party--are camped near," said Randolph, moving away with Mrs. Durland.

  Bert unsaddled his horse. Janey, convinced that the Durlands would fmd her sooner or later, preferred to surprise Bert. So she took advantage of his occupation with horse and saddle to run back the way she had come. Then she boldly turned round the corner. Durland was sauntering here and there, inspecting the camp, plainly nonplused. Presently he heard Janey's step and wheeled.

  "Oh!" cried Janey, starting back.

  "Janey!" he burst out, rapturously. "What luck! By heaven, I'm glad to see you!"

  "Young man, you frightened me," returned Janey. "What are you doing here?"

  Suddenly his gaze took in her apparel and his eyes popped. Janey had not realized until that moment what a scarecrow she must look like.

  "Janey Endicott! Good Lord! What a getup you've got on! You look like a ballet dancer. Mother will have a fit!... Why, you look..."

  "See here, boy, you're pretty impudent."

  "Why all the bluff, Janey?" he asked with a laugh. "It's great to see you again, even if you are a sight to make Park Avenue weep."

  He approached her with outstretched arms and unmistakable intention.

  "Don't you dare. I'll yell for my husband," cried Janey.

  "Husband? Now look here. This sounds serious."

  "I said my husband."

  "Janey Endicott with a husband! Impossible!"

  "I'm Mrs. Phillip Randolph, wife of the archaeologist in charge of the excavation here!"

  "Wife? Phillip Randolph?... Good God! But you're Janey Endicott. Your father said you were here."

  "You're crazy. Who are you and what are you doing here?"

  "No, I'm not crazy, but you are."

  Janey pointed imperiously down the canyon. "Take your horse and get out of here."

  "Janey Endicott, you can't stall me like that," he replied, hotly. "I've come clear across the country to rescue you from your father. This is how I fmd you! It has a damn queer look!"

  His eyes held a sharp suspecting glint of anger and jealous doubt.

  "Poor boy!" said Janey, solicitously. "You must have gotten away from your keeper. There! There! Run along and fmd him."

  Bert pointed to Janey's left hand. "If you're Mrs. Randolph, where's your wedding ring?"

  "In the years I've lived here with my husband, I never saw the like of you," declared Janey. "Either you're an escaped lunatic or a college freshman--trying to impersonate Hopalong Cassidy. I'm going to call my husband."

  "Go ahead. It'll be great when Mother sees you. Janey, it's your wheels that are twisted, not mine." Then he seemed to become genuinely concerned. "You know, Janey, you do look strained and queer. My God! You might have lost your memory!"

  Janey backed away trying to elude him, but he moved to stand in front of her.

  "No, you won't escape that way. I'm going to make you remember."

  "Let me by!" cried Janey, wildly. She was really possessed with an infernal glee. What would Phil say to this? "Get out, or I'll have my Phil take care of you."

  "Janey, dear, you're strange. Your eyes. Try to concentrate. I'm Bert. Bert Durland. Something terrible has been done to you or you'd remember me and how I love you. Why I couldn't hurt a hair of your lovely head."

  Janey kept maneuvering for a loophole to dodge through.

  "If you touch me I'll scream!"

  Bert made a lunge and captured her, and before Janey could thwart his intention he had grasped her hand and looked at her ring. "There! You are Janey Endicott. I know that diamond as well as if it were my own. It was a present from your father."

  "Stop mauling me," cried Janey, breaking free from him. "
I don't know you. I never saw you in my life!"

  "You do it well, Janey, if you're not truly mad. I'm afraid there's something behind all this, young lady, and I'm going to find out."

  Indeed there was, Janey thought; and never in her wildest flights of imagination could she have planned anything so good. She almost wanted to hug Bert for happening along at this opportune hour. Then voices drew Bert's attention and he hurried to meet Randolph, of whom Janey caught a glimpse among the cedars. She ran up the rock slope to hide in a niche where she could not be easily discovered. When she got herself satisfactorily crouched she peeped out with eyes that fairly danced. This was better than any comedy she had ever seen. Bert and Randolph were approaching. Randolph had a baffled look. His sweeping gaze about camp explained to Janey one of the reasons he was so concerned. She wondered what had become of Mrs. Durland.

  Bert viewed the desert camp in dismay. "I'll be damned!" he ejaculated.

  "Will you please produce the young lady?" demanded Randolph, stiffly.

  "She's gone."

  "My dear young fellow, she was never here."

  "I tell you she was," retorted Durland, angrily. "Janey," he yelled. "You come back here. This has gone far enough."

  "I agree with you," said Randolph.

  "She was here. I talked with her, though she denied she was Janey. She looked awful. Her clothes were soiled and torn--dress up to her neck. Most disgraceful! And either her reason's gone or she's a clever actress."

  At this point Mrs. Durland appeared, red and puffing.

  "Bert--this Mr. Randolph--talks strange," she panted. "He left me a few minutes ago most unceremoniously. There's no other camp. Janey isn't here."

  "Yes she is, Mother. Or she was a moment ago," asserted Bert, positively. "But now she's gone."

  "Gone! Where?"

  "I haven't an idea. She just vanished."

  "Why don't you fmd her? You've chased her long and far--why not a little more? My son, you act queer."

  "There you are," interposed Randolph, with exaggerated conviction. "Why don't you chase this hallucination of yours? I'm sorry indeed to see a fine young fellow like you, laboring under mental aberration."

  "What?" snapped Bert.

  Randolph turned to Mrs. Durland: "Have you ever had your son under observation or--er--examined, you know?"

  "You--you--commoner! How dare you!" burst out Mrs. Durland.

  "Really, I don't mean offense. If he was all right then it's the long ride, the heat, the loneliness of the desert. These things act powerfully upon some persons, especially any who are not strong mentally and physically."

  Bert strode forward to confront Randolph with dark and angry mien.

  "See here, Sir," he said, "cut that stuff. You're trying to string me. But you can't do it. I tell you there was a girl here not ten minutes ago. If she wasn't Janey Endicott then I am out of my head. But it was Janey, and it's she who is crazy. She doesn't know who she is. She forgot she's engaged to marry me."

  "Engaged to you!" ejaculated Randolph, taken aback.

  "Yes, to me. Ask Mother."

  Randolph turned bewildered with a voiceless query.

  "There was an understanding between my son and Miss Endicott," replied Mrs. Durland. "No formal announcement, but all their friends knew."

  Randolph seemed stunned.

  "Look here, Randolph," spoke up Bert, suddenly. "Are you a married man?"

  "Certainly not," replied Randolph, surprised into the truth.

  "So! That's it!" shouted Bert, triumphantly. "I've a hunch you're a damned villain. Wait until I find that girl!" He rushed to and fro, and finally disappeared round the corner.

  "Mrs. Durland, don't you think I had better stop him?" queried Randolph, in real concern. "This canyon is a big place. He could get lost or fall off a cliff. He's so slim he could almost slip down into a gopher hole."

  "I don't care what happens," complained Mrs. Durland. "I'm overcome at this shocking turn of affairs. I'm beginning to think Janey Endicott was here. The fools men make of themselves over that girl!... I wish I'd never come to your miserable old ruin. I'll crumble myself before I get away."

  "Courage, Madam. All is not lost!"

  "Stop calling me Madam," replied the woman, testily. "My name is Mrs. Durland."

  "Pardon... Shall I endeavor to locate your son before he..."

  Bert hove in sight at that moment high up on the shelving rock. Janey had caught sight of him before the others, and she tried to melt into the niche. But she was a little too substantial. Part of her protruded and young Durland saw it.

  "Aha!" he shouted, leaping down the slope. Janey wanted at least to show her face, because she was fighting a wild laugh, but as soon as Bert laid rough hands on her, she blazed with wrath.

  "Here you are. Come out of it," he said, exultantly. "Hey, you down there. I've found her."

  "Let go of me, you--you..." cried Janey.

  "You shameless thing! No wonder you can't face me... Out you come!"

  "Let go!--Philip!" shrieked Janey, as Bert dragged her out. She wrenched free to glare at him.

  "Durland, I'll knock your head off," called Randolph, loudly.

  "So he is your party?" sneered Bert, in jealous contempt. "I'm on to you, Janey Endicott. This beats any stunt you ever pulled back East. Came out West for a real kick, eh? Well! Won't it sound sweet back home?"

  "Yes, and you'll be just about the kind to blab about it," retorted Janey.

  "Come on down here. You've got to face them," he said, snatching at her.

  Durland did not release her even when they reached a level. In fact, he dragged her in a most undignified, if not actually brutal way, toward his mother.

  "Phil!" cried Janey, in pain and mortification.

  Randolph intercepted Durland and gave him a resounding slap that was certainly equivalent to a blow. Durland went down in a heap. His grand sombrero rolled in the dust.

  "You blackguard!" screamed Mrs. Durland. "To strike my son! You'll suffer for this."

  Bert got tangled up in his long spurs and with difficulty restored his equilibrium.

  "Say, you young jackass," declared Randolph, coolly. "If you touch this young lady again, I'll take a real poke at you."

  "Don't hit him, Phil," interposed Janey, trying to recover her humor. "I don't want his death on our hands."

  Then ensued an awkward silence. Bert went from white to red. He brushed the dust from his immaculate riding breeches, and picked up the huge velvet sombrero. Meanwhile Mrs. Durland was staring in wide-eyed recognition at Janey.

  "Well, Mother, do you know the young lady? Was I right or wrong?"

  "Right, Bertrand," snapped Mrs. Durland. Whereupon Bert turned to the others. "Janey, I've got the goods on you," he said. "You needn't take the trouble to keep up the farce any longer. What I can't understand is that your father should tell us you were here."

  "I can't understand that, either," replied Janey, soberly.

  "He must have guessed it and hoped I'd rescue you," went on Bert. "Or else he saw you gone beyond redemption."

  "That probably is it, Bert," said Janey, with sweet meekness.

  Randolph appeared the most uncomfortable of the four, although Mrs. Durland was getting ready to explode.

  "Anyway, it's too late," concluded Durland, with bitterness.

  "Randolph, you told me you were not married. 'Certainly not,' you said."

  "Yes, I--did," returned Randolph, haltingly, as if his mind was not working.

  "There! Janey, you swore you were Mrs. Phillip Randolph, didn't you?" went on the accuser, bolder as he recognized he had the whip hand.

  "Yes, I--did," returned Janey, bending terrible eyes upon Phillip.

  "Miss Endicott!" burst out Mrs. Durland, in accents of horror. "You're here with this man alone?"

  "Yes, but not willingly, Mrs. Durland," answered Janey, with profound sorrow. "He kidnaped me."

  "Kidnaped you? Good heavens! Then he isn't what he pretends to be?"
<
br />   "Indeed he isn't."

  "Desperado--Wild West villain sort of man?" she whispered, huskily.

  "Worse than that."

  Durland had turned pale at this revelation. His distended eyes, fast upon Randolph, denoted both fear and anger.

  "Your name isn't Randolph?" he queried, apprehensively.

  "Looks as if my name is mud," returned Randolph, coming out of his stupefaction.

  "Bert, the truth is he is Black Dick, a notorious character hereabouts," explained Janey.

  "Black Dick! I--heard about him from the driver," rejoined Durland, apprehensively. "But, Janey, why did you try to deceive me about yourself? Why didn't you tell me in the first place who this man was?"

  "It was the shame--the ignominy of it all, Bert," she said, enjoying Randolph's discomfort. "I knew he'd drive you off and I thought I could get away with that story. I'd rather have died out here than have--anyone know."

  "And he actually kidnaped you?"

  "Well, I just guess he did. Ambushed me when I was in camp with friends on the way here. He caught me alone. Seems he followed all the way from the post where he'd been watching me for days. He grabbed me. I fought with all my might. But he was too much for me. Tied me on a horse. Oh, it was awful! Look at these black-and-blue marks. These are nothing to others I have that I--I can't very well show you. I had to ride a whole day and night in the most terrible storm. When we got here I was more dead than alive."

  "By heaven, it's like a book!" ejaculated Durland. "Kidnaped you for ransom? Heard about your dad's wealth, of course?"

  "No, Bert, it isn't money he's after," declared Janey. "I imagined that at first. And I offered to give him everything from ten to a hundred thousand dollars. But the brute would only laugh and kiss me again. Swears the minute he saw me at the post he went mad over me."

  Bert's consternation and fright were strong, but he laughed--hysterically--nonetheless. He rocked to and fro.

  "Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! It was coming to you--Janey Endicott! Drove him mad? Ha! Ha! He's only one of many. Prefers making love to you to a hundred thousand bucks!... By golly, you've finally got the kick you were always longing for!"

  "Bert, I deserve all I'm getting," rejoined Janey, sadly resigned.

  "Why didn't your father get word of this? What is the matter with your friends?"