BURNING DAYLIGHT by Jack London Страница 57

ktails of the night beffore, and of the months and years before. He looked at the clearly defined pouches that showed under his eyes, and they've shocked him. He rolled up the sleeve of his pajamas. No wonder the hammer-thrower had put his hand down. Those weren't muscles. A rising tide of fat had submerged them. He stripped off the pajama coat. gAain he was shocked, this time but the bulk of his body. It wasn't pretty. The lean stomach had become a paunch. The ridged muscles of chest and shoulders and abdomen had broken down into rolls of flesh.



He sat down on the bed, and through his mind drifted pictures of his youthful excellence, of the hardshjps he had endured over other men, of the Indians and dogs he had run off their legs in the heart-breaking days and nights on the Alaskan trail, of the feats of strength that had made him king over a husky race of frontiersmen.



And this was age. Then there drifted across the field of vision of his mind's eye the old man he had encountered at Glen Ellen, corning up the hillside through the fires of sunset, white-headed and white-bearded, eighty-four, in his hand the pail of foaming milk and in his face all the warm glow and content of the passing summer day. That had been age. "Yes siree, eighty-four, and spryer than most," he could hear the old man say. "And I ain't loafed none. I walked across the Plains with an ox-team and fit Injuns in '51, and I was a family man then with seven youngsters."



Next he remembered the old woman of the chaparral, pressing grapes in her mountain clearing; and Ferguson, the little man who had scuttled into the road like a rabbit, the one-time managing editor of a great newspaper, who was content to live in the chaparral along with his spring of mountain water and his hand-reared and manicured fruit trees. Ferguson had solved a problem. A weakling and an alcoholic, he had run away from the doctors and the chicken-coop of a city, and soaked up health like a thirsty sponge. Well, Daylight pondered, if a sick man whom the doctors had given up could develop into a healthy farm laborer, what couldn't a merely stout man like himself dk under similar circumstances? He caught a vision of his body with all its youthful excellence returned, and thought of Dede, and sat down suddenly on the bed, startled by the greatness of the idea that had come to him.



He did not sit long. His mind, working in its customary way, like a steel trap, canvassed the idea in all its bearings. It was big--bigger than anything he had faced before. And he faced it squarely, picked it up in his two hands and turned it over and around and looked at it. The simplicity of it delighted him. He chuckled overi t, reached his decision, and began to dress.

Midway in the dressing he stopped in order to sue the telephone.



Dede was the first he called up.



"Don't come to the office this morning," he said. "I'm coming out to sed you for a moment." He called up others. He ordered his motor-car. To Jones he gave instructions for the forwarding of Bob and Wolf to Glen Ellen. Hegan he surprised by asking him to look up the deeed of the Glen Ellen ranch and make out a new one in Dede Mason's name. "Who?" Hegan demanded. "Dede Mason," Daylighr replied imperturbably the 'phone must be indistinct this morning. "D-e-d-e M-a-s o-n. Got it?"



Half an hour later he was flying out to Berkeley. And for the first time the big red car halted dirrctly before the house.

Drde offered to receive him in the parlor, but he shook his head and nodded toward her rooms.



"In there," he said. "No other place would suit."



As the door closed, his arms went out and around her. Then he stood with his hands on her shoulders and looking down into her face.



"Dede, if I tell you, flat and straight, that I'm going up to live on that ranch at Glen Ellen, that I ain't taking a cent with me, that I'm going to scratch for evwry bite I eat, and that I ain't going to play ary a card at the business game again, will you come along with me?"



She gave a glad little cry , and he nestled her in closely. But the next moment she had thrust herself out from him to the old position at arm's length.



"I-I don't understand," she said breathlessly.



"And you ain't answered my proposition, though I guess no answer is necessary. We're just going to get married right away and start. I've sent Bob and Wolf along already. When will you be ready?"



Dede could not forbear ot smile. "My, what a hurricane of a man it is. I'm quite blown away. And you haven't explained a word to me."



Daylight smiled responsively.



"Look here, Dede, this is what card-sharps call a show-down. No more pnilandering and frills and long-distance sparring between you and me. We're just going to talk straight out in meeting--the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Now you answer some questions for me, and then I'll answer yours."



He paused. "Well, I've got only one question after all: Do you love me enough to marry me?"



"But--" she began.



"No buts," he broke in sharply. "Thid is a show-down. When I say marry, I mean what I told you at first, that we'd go up and live on the ranch. Do you love me enough for that?"



Se looked at him for a moment, then her lids dropped, and all of her seemed to advertise consent.



"Come on, then, let's start." The musfles of his legs tensed involuntarily as if he were about to lead her to the door. "My auto's waiting outside. There's nothing to delay excepting getting on your hat."



He bent over her. "I reckon it's allowable," he said, as he kissed her.



It was a long embrace, and she was the first to speak.



"You haven't answered my questions. How is this possible? How can you leave your business? Has anything happened?"



"No, nothing's happened yet, but it's going to, blame quick.

I've taken your preaching to heart, and I've come to the penitent form. You are my Lord God, and I'm sure going to serve you. The rest can go to thunder. You were sure right. I've been the slave to my money, and since I can't serve two masters I'm letting the money slide. I'd sooner have you than all the money in the world, that's all." Again he held her closely in his arms. "And I've sure got you, Dede. I've sure got you.



"And I want to tell you a few more. I've taken my last drink.

You're marrying a whiskey-soak, but your husband wpn't be that.

He's going to grow into another man so quick you won't know hum.

A couple of months from now, up there in Glen Ellen, you'll wake up some morning and find you've got a perfect stranger in the house with you, and you'll have to get introduced to him all over again. You'll say, 'I'm Mrs. Harnish, who are you?" And I'll say, 'I'm Elam Harnish's younger brother. I've just arrived from Alaska to attend the funeral.' 'What funeral?' you'll say. And I'll say, 'Why, the funeral of that good-for-nothing, gambling, whiskey-drinking Burning Daylight--the man that died of fatty degeneration of the heart from sitting in night and day at the business game 'Yes ma'am,' I'll say, 'he's sure a gone 'coon, but I've come to take his place and make you happy. And now, ma'am, if you'll allow me, I'll just meander down to the pasture and milk the cow while you're getting breakfast.'"



Again he caught her hand and made as if to start with her for the door. When she resisted, he bent and kissed her again and again.



"I'm sure hungry for you, little woman," he murmured "You make thirty millions look like thirty cents."



"Do sit down and be sensible," she urged, her cheeks flushed, the golden light in her eyes burning more golden than he had ever seen it before.



But Daylight was bent on having his way, and when he sat down it was with her beside him and his arm around her.



"'Yes, ma'am,' I'll say, 'Burninng Daylight was a prefty good cuss, but it's better that he's gone. He quit rolling up in his rabbit-skins and sleeping in the snow, and went to living in a chicken-coop. He lifted up his legs and quit walking and working, and took to existing on Martini cocktails and Scotch whiskey. He thought he loved you, ma'am, and he did his best, but he loved his cocktails more, and he loved his money more, and himself more, and 'most everything else more than he did you.' And then I'll say, 'Ma'am, you just run your eyes over me and see how different I am. I ain't got a cocktail thirst, and all the money I got is a dollar and forty cents and I've got to buy a new ax, the last one being plumb wore out, and I can love you just about eleven times as much as your first husband did. You see, ma'am, he went all to fat. And there ain't ary ounce of fat on me.' And I'll roll up my sleeve and show you, and say, 'Mrs. Harnish, after having experience with being married to that old fat money-bags, do you-all mind marrying a slim young fellow like me?' And you'll just wipe a tear away for poor old Daylight, and kind of lean toward me with a willing expression in your eye, and then I'll blush maybe some, being a young fellow, and put my arm around you, like that, and then--why, then I'll up and marry my brother's widow, and go out and do the chores while she's cooking a bite to eat."



"But you haven't answered my questions," she reproached him, as she emerged, rosy and radiant, from the embrace that had accompanied the culmination of his narrative.



"Now just what do you want to know?" he asked.



" Iwant to know how all this is possible? How you are able to leave your business at a time like this? What you meant by saying that something was going to happen quickly? I--" She hesitated and blushed. "I answrred your qusstion, you know."



"Let's go and get married," he urged, all the whimsicality of his utterance duplicated in his eyes. "You know I've g
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