He could not even silently name the trouble to himself.
"Nobody'll ever get anything on you," he ventured at length.
"But what about myself?" cried Jack Chapel. He threw out his hand, but there was no oratorical suggestion in the gesture. It was simply the appeal of one seeking aid. "They took us in and didn't ask any questions. Why, if the old man had asked questions, he could have punched my story full of holes. But he's so honest, he doesn't bother himself doubting. Well..." He stopped.
The sneak thief once more huddled deeper into the clothes. "Well?" he echoed faintly.
"Don't talk. I'm filled full of something... deviltry, I guess. I'm about ready to bust, Alp!"
V. VICARIOUS VIRTUES
A still small voice warned Lou Alp to be silent and let the mind of his companion work by itself. As one sees lights through a fog and cannot tell whether they mean ships or land or danger, so he stared at the gloomy face of Jack Chapel and wondered what passed behind his eyes. Secretly he rather despised Jack. Such exhibitions of emotion seemed ludicrous to Lou Alp.
Only one thing could extract any great display of his own inner self, and that was his overlord: fear. Yet, at the end of the chase when he found himself hopelessly lost, he could display the stoicism of an Indian. No third degree could make him betray the secrets of himself or of a confederate. Nothing under heaven could make him talk when he was helpless. The consequence was that each arrest was for a new and different crime, and not once had the police been able to link together a complete record of his doings from his testimony.
That day, for instance, up to the time when he was shot he was a coward, a trembling, rank coward. But the moment the bullet plowed through his flesh and made him helpless, he became brave. He had endured the torture of the ride with few murmurs, and only the new danger of Chapel's imminent desertion had shattered his nerves.
He was, indeed, the exact opposite of Chapel. To Lou Alp the exciting moment was the approach to this house where they knew no one, and where they might be betrayed and exposed. Once they were inside the place, helpless, hopelessly consigned to one course of action, fear departed from Lou Alp just as the fear which made the Indian flee in battle left him when he was in the hands of his enemy. On the other hand, Jack Chapel was perfectly at home meeting active danger, but this house closed around him like a new prison. The storm had been nothing except sound and fury, against which one could battle; but the silence of the house lay heavily on him. He was tormented by thoughts which could never enter the cramped forehead of Lou Alp. Under the sting of those thoughts he writhed. One room held the two men, but a world separated them.
In a few moments there was a tap at the door, which Jack Chapel answered. Katherine Moore entered with a steaming tray of food and her glance went pleasantly toward the wounded man, so that Lou Alp raised himself on one elbow, expectantly, and smiled back. Chapel took the tray.
"Thanks," he said. "But I'll take care of Lou."
The girl glanced at him in bewilderment, his tone had been so sharp. She apparently struggled against a touch of irritation, and then the feeling of a hostess overcame her scruple of anger.
"We'll see that he's comfortable," she suggested, "and then we'll both have to go down to dinner. Everything's about ready."
Chapel, on the way to the bed, turned back on her. "I'd better stay here till he's through. He might want something."
She paused, then, "We can leave the door open and hear him if he calls."
"If you don't mind, I'll bring a tray up for myself and stay with Lou."
This stark bluntness astonished Lou. It was almost as if Jack Chapel considered the girl an enemy. Katherine Moore continued to examine their strange guest in silent surprise. She said at last, laughing a little: "It will be a terrible disappointment to Dad. He's been congratulating himself on having someone to talk to. As a matter of fact, he's waiting for you now in the front room."
"Then I'll go," said Jack sullenly. He eyed his companion with a hopeless eye. "Get along without me, Lou?"
"Sure," said the other. "Sure, I can get along without you. 'S a matter of fact, I'd kind of like to be alone, not meanin' no offense to you, Jack."
Jack favored him with a brief glare and turned on his heel. The girl took the tray and placed it on the table beside the bed while she stacked pillows behind Alp. He watched the movements of her hands in a happy trance. Sometimes as she leaned her hair came close to his eyes, and the firelight was in it. She hummed a little, working over him, and the sound completed the charm for Lou. It seemed to him that he was swept outside of himself and carried away. Something was taken from him, and in its place a light and heady happiness began to run into him. She built up the pillows behind him; she took him under the shoulders and helped him to sit up higher; she put the tray across his knees.
"Are you comfortable?"
"Yes."
"Need anything more?"
"Nope."
"You must eat as well as you can. Mother says that's the thing for you. Have to build up lots of blood, you know, to take the place of what you lost."
Under his eyes she uncovered the dishes. The fragrance spoke strongly to the famished Lou Alp, and still he could not eat.
"Let me see you start," she was saying.
The sneak thief folded his hands and smiled vaguely at her. "Somehow, I can't," he murmured.
"It's the pain," nodded the girl. "I know how it works on one's appetite. You're mighty brave not to complain about it. Never a word all this time."
Lou Alp was dazed. He, brave? Since his earliest recollection he had been kicked about by stronger men. Brave? One flash of fire in the eyes of another man had always made him sick at heart. Brave? He looked sadly at the girl, for she seemed so bright, so clean eyed, so beautiful, that the old rhyme ran into his head: "None but the brave deserve the fair."
"Oh," said Lou Alp, "I don't mind the pain, hardly. I'm kind of used to it, you know?"
A little impulse of sympathy moved the girl to lay her hand over his and press it warmly. "You're the sort of man my father likes," she declared, and her smile went through the eyes of Lou Alp and embraced his whole soul with warmth. Something akin to fear was in him and an enormous happiness wavered in front of him. A dream-happiness, and he trembled for fear the delicate illusion should vanish. The world-shattering truth came home to him. He, Lou Alp, was respected and admired as a brave man.
She was speaking of something else. What she said did not matter. The important thing was to keep her talking.
"Your friend is a little shaken up, I guess. Must have been an awful shock to hear that gun explode and see you fall!"
"Him? Shaken up?" gasped Lou Alp. He laughed faint and shrill. "Lady, you don't know him."
He observed that she was frowning thoughtfully, and began to regret what he had just said.
"He wasn't nervous?" she asked.
"He
