The Little Lady of the Big House

Receiver to ear, he turned to look at Paula. Graham, bending over her but not touching her, met his eyes.

“Forrest,” he began, “if you have done – ”

But Dick hushed him with a warning glance directed toward Oh Dear who still held the bronze spurs in speechless helplessness.

“It can be discussed later,” Dick said shortly, as he turned his mouth to the transmitter.

“Doctor Robinson?.. Good. Mrs. Forrest has a rifle-shot through lungs or heart or maybe both. Callahan is on his way to meet you in the racing car. Keep coming as fast as God’ll let you till you meet Callahan. Good-by.”

Back to Paula, Graham stepped aside as Dick, on his knees, bent over her. His examination was brief. He looked up at Graham with a shake of the head and said:

“It’s too ticklish to fool with.”

He turned to Oh Dear.

“Put down those spurs and bring pillows. – Evan, lend a hand on the other side, and lift gently and steadily. – Oh Dear, shove that pillow under – easy, easy.”

He looked up and saw Oh My standing silently, awaiting orders.

“Get Mr. Bonbright to relieve Oh Joy at the switches,” Dick commanded. “Tell Oh Joy to stand near to Mr. Bonbright to rush orders. Tell Oh Joy to have all the house boys around him to rush the orders. As soon as Saunders comes back with Mr. Bishop’s crowd, tell Oh Joy to start him out on the jump to Eldorado to look for Callahan in case Callahan has a smash up. Tell Oh Joy to get hold of Mr. Manson, and Mr. Pitts or any two of the managers who have machines and have them, with their machines, waiting here at the house. Tell Oh Joy to take care of Mr. Bishop’s crowd as usual. And you come back here where I can call you.”

Dick turned to Oh Dear.

“Now tell me how it happened.”

Oh Dear shook her head and wrung her hands.

“Where were you when the rifle went off?”

The Chinese girl swallowed and pointed toward the wardrobe room.

“Go on, talk,” Dick commanded harshly.

“Mrs. Forrest tell me to get spurs. I forget before. I go quick. I hear gun. I come back quick. I run.”

She pointed to Paula to show what she had found.

“But the gun?” Dick asked.

“Some trouble. Maybe gun no work. Maybe four minutes, maybe five minutes, Mrs. Forrest try make gun work.”

“Was she trying to make the gun work when you went for the spurs?”

Oh Dear nodded.

“Before that I say maybe Oh Joy can fix gun. Mrs. Forrest say never mind. She say you can fix. She put gun down. Then she try once more fix gun. Then she tell me get spurs. Then… gun go off.”

Hennessy’s arrival shut off further interrogation. His examination was scarcely less brief than Dick’s. He looked up with a shake of the head.

“Nothing I can dare tackle, Mr. Forrest. The hemorrhage has eased of itself, though it must be gathering inside. You’ve sent for a doctor?”

“Robinson. I caught him in his office. – He’s young, a good surgeon,” Dick explained to Graham. “He’s nervy and daring, and I’d trust him in this farther than some of the old ones with reputations. – What do you think, Mr. Hennessy? What chance has she?”

“Looks pretty bad, though I’m no judge, being only a horse doctor. Robinson’ll know. Nothing to do but wait.”

Dick nodded and walked out on Paula’s sleeping porch to listen for the exhaust of the racing machine Callahan drove. He heard the ranch limousine arrive leisurely and swiftly depart. Graham came out on the porch to him.

“I want to apologize, Forrest,” he said. “I was rather off for the moment. I found you here, and I thought you were here when it happened. It must have been an accident.’”

“Poor little kid,” Dick agreed. “And she so prided herself on never being careless with guns.”

“I’ve looked at the rifle,” Graham said, “but I couldn’t find anything wrong with it.”

“And that’s how it happened. Whatever was wrong got right. That’s how it went off.”

And while Dick talked, building the fabric of the lie so that even Graham should be fooled, to himself he was understanding how well Paula had played the trick. That last singing of the “Gypsy Trail” had been her farewell to Graham and at the same time had provided against any suspicion on his part of what she had intended directly to do. It had been the same with him. She had had her farewell with him, and, the last thing, over the telephone, had assured him that she would never have any man but him in all the world.

He walked away from Graham to the far end of the porch.

“She had the grit, she had the grit,” he muttered to himself with quivering lips. “Poor kid. She couldn’t decide between the two, and so she solved it this way.”

The noise of the racing machine drew him and Graham together, and together they entered the room to wait for the doctor. Graham betrayed unrest, reluctant to go, yet feeling that he must.

“Please stay on, Evan,” Dick told him. “She liked you much, and if she does open her eyes she’ll be glad to see you.”

Dick and Graham stood apart from Paula while Doctor Robinson made his examination. When he arose with an air of finality, Dick looked his question. Robinson shook his head.

“Nothing to be done,” he said. “It is a matter of hours, maybe of minutes.” He hesitated, studying Dick’s face for a moment. “I can ease her off if you say the word. She might possibly recover consciousness and suffer for a space.”

Dick took a turn down the room and back, and when he spoke it was to Graham.

“Why not let her live again, brief as the time may be? The pain is immaterial. It will have its inevitable quick anodyne. It is what I would wish, what you would wish. She loved life, every moment of it. Why should we deny her any of the little left her?”

Graham bent his head in agreement, and Dick turned to the doctor.

“Perhaps you can stir her, stimulate her, to a return of consciousness. If you can, do so. And if the pain proves too severe, then you can ease her.”

When her eyes fluttered open, Dick nodded Graham up beside him. At first bewilderment was all she betrayed, then her eyes focused first on Dick’s face, then on Graham’s, and, with recognition, her lips parted in a pitiful smile.

“I… I thought at first that I was dead,” she said.

But quickly another thought was in her mind, and Dick divined it in her eyes as they searched him. The question was if he knew it was no accident. He gave no sign. She had planned it so, and she must pass believing it so.

“I… was… wrong,” she said. She spoke slowly, faintly, in evident pain, with a pause for strength of utterance between each word. “I was always so cocksure I’d never have an accident, and look what I’ve gone and done.”

“It’s a darn shame,” Dick said, sympathetically. “What was it? A jam?”

She nodded, and again her lips parted in the pitiful brave smile as she said whimsically: “Oh, Dick, go call the neighbors in and show them what little Paula’s din.