The Branding Iron - Page 87/142

Pierre raised a white, tense face.

"Left?" He turned as if he would run after her.

"Yes, sir. These people I've had here took her away with them. That

is, they've been urging her to go, but she'd refused. Then, suddenly,

this morning, just as they were putting the trunks in, up came Jane,

white as chalk, asking them to take her with them, said she must go.

Well, sir, they rigged her up with some traveling clothes and drove

away with her. That was six hours ago. By now they're in the train,

bound for New York."

Yarnall's guest looked at him without speaking, and Yarnall nervously

went on, "She's been with us about six months, Landis, and I don't

know anything about her. She was tall, gray eyes, black hair, slow

speaking, and with the kind of voice you'd be apt to notice ... yes, I

see she's the girl you've been looking for. I can give you the New

York people's address, but first, for Jane's sake,--I'm a pretty good

friend of hers, I think a lot of Jane,--I'll have to know what you

want with her--what she is to you."

Pierre's pupils widened till they all but swallowed the smoke-colored

iris.

"She is my wife," he said.

Again Yarnall swore. But he lit a cigarette and took his time about

answering. "Well, sir," he said, "you must excuse me, but--it was

because she saw you, I take it, that Jane cut off this morning. That's

clear. Now, I don't know what would make a girl run off from her

husband. She might have any number of reasons, bad and good, but it

seems to me that it would be a pretty strong one that would make a

girl run off, with a look such as she wore, from a man like you. Did

you treat her well, Landis?"

It had the effect of a lash taken by a penitent. The man shrank a

little, whitened, endured. "I can't tell you how I treated her," he

said in a dangerous voice; "it don't bear tellin'. But--I want her

back. I was--I was--that was three years ago; I am more like a man

now. You'll give me the people's name, their address?..."

Pierre laid his hand on the older man's wrist and gave it a queer

urgent and beseeching shake.

After a moment of searching scrutiny, Yarnall bent his head.

"Very well," said he shortly; "come in."