Drew Lane

“ Late that afternoon Drew Lane brought Johnny a fresh suit of clothes. When he had dressed they went together to the shack which you will recall as their home.
187
There they spent an evening in quiet talk. Drew Lane said things were no better at the police court. He and Tom Howe were kept standing around like old men with rheumatism, or racing around on errands like messenger boys.
“Marking time,” he sighed. “Doing nothing of real use. All our knowledge of crime and criminals going to waste. And still the crime wave goes merrily on. Three killings so far this week. ”

“ Dark forebodings took possession of Drew Lane’s mind once more. He knew full well the power of the forces of evil in this great city. There were millions of dollars at stake. A man such as the Chief, sitting in a place of high authority as he was, might be rich if he but turned his back upon the gambling houses and peddlers of poison labeled strong drink. ”

“ And she turned her face toward mine.
"I'm just yours for the asking, Jock."
I drew her to me, and we kissed each other beneath the starlit blue, with the sea wind blowing our hair and the gipsy singing coming, in broken bits of melody, up through the gorse and heather.
I made a song of it after, in my limping verse, which Nancy found one day, and laughed at, I remember:
The gipsies are out, I can see their lights moving,
Race answers to race, 'neath the stars and the blue;
They are living and laughing and mating and loving,
As I stand in the midnight with you, love, with you! ”

“ But he played the game by a masterly method, and drew nearer to Anne, looking into her eyes with the devotion which he knew so well how to assume, despising himself as he did so. But after the last brava had been given and he had put his mother into the brougham, saying, abruptly, that he preferred to walk, his heart and head came to an unexpected encounter. He stood alone, unnoting the passers-by, oblivious of the superfluous praise of Katrine's voice which he heard in the broken talk, looking into the distant sky at the two great towers of Notre Dame. ”

“ What’s the matter, Drew?”
“I was examining these ferns. How curious it is.”
“What, their withering up so?” said Lane. “Yes, I was noticing it. Are they sensitive plants?”
“Oh, no!” cried Drew, “those are the mimosa family. But look here, you can see them fade and droop as you watch them; I suppose it is in some way due to our presence here.”
“Watcher fidgeting about, Billy?” said Smith, just then. “It’s hot enough without you playing the fool. Shuffling about like a cat on hot bricks.”
“That’s just what is the matter with me, matey,” grumbled Wriggs. “Just you put yer hand down here. ”

“ John Drew is an excellent example of a man finding his vocation and filling it. While it is true that he inherited his histrionic talent, his father, John Drew, Sr., having been a noted Irish comedian and his mother, Louise Lane Drew, also having been a great favorite on the stage—yet he has achieved success because of his personal efforts looking to its development. The prime requisite for advancement in any field is, first, find your talent, then bend every energy toward its development. ”

“ He'll steal your shirt, and you'll beg him to take the pants too. Thus inelegantly had old Drew been described to me in China, and there was some truth in it, surely. Where was my hatred of a moment ago? Confound it, there was something likable about him after all.
I stared at him no longer, for now outside the curtains I could see Mary Will coming down the stairs. Many beautiful women had come down those stairs in the days when social history was making in that old house on Nob Hill—women whose loveliness was now but a fast-fading memory on peeling canvas. ”

“ He found himself envying a man who leaned against a neighboring spile. He was a tall, spare fellow, dressed a little better than the common run of sailors, but unmistakably a sea-faring man. What Drew especially noted was that the stranger had only one eye—and that set in a rather forbidding countenance. Ordinarily he might have pitied him, but in his present mood Drew envied him. The stranger's one remaining eye had, after all, seen more of the world than his own two good optics would likely ever see. ”

“ Swinging about as he did so, Drew caught his first full glimpse of Anthony's face, and knew him for the man who had ridden the wild horse at Madison Square Garden those weeks before.
Perhaps it was astonishment that moved the big man—surely it could not have been fear—yet he knelt there behind the sheltering tree grey-faced, wide, and blank of eye, as a man might look who dreamed and awoke to see his vision standing before him in full sunlit life. ”

“ Anse was only a shadow among shadows, a voice out of the dark now. "You made up your mind about what you're goin' to do when this is all over?"
"Pull out—California maybe. I don't know."
"Sure you don't want to stay?"
"No!" Drew put explosive emphasis into his reply.
"A man can be too stubborn an' stiff-necked for his own good—"
"A man has to do what he has to," Drew snapped. "I'm turnin' in. Give me th' nudge when it's time."
He rolled in a blanket, settled himself with his Colt close to hand, and lay gazing up into the cloudy sky. ”

“ Drew fell into the formal speech which seemed natural here. "You see one who has done his own trail cooking too long."
"Ah—el pobrete—poor man! Surely there will be an egg!" She was gone and Drew began covertly to study the other men in the room.
In any western town the cantina, or saloon, was the meeting place for masculine society. Even if Hunt Rennie did not appear bodily in the Four Jacks tonight, Drew could pick up information about his father merely by keeping open ears. ”

“ But Drew's wound demanded attention, and he was too confused just then to solve problems that could wait till later. So he picked his way rather unsteadily to the companionway and went down.
He had to pass the captain's cabin on his way to his own room. As he did so, the light streamed full upon him, and Ruth, who had not yet gone to her own room, looked up from her sewing and saw him. She gave a little scream and rushed toward him.
"Oh, Allen, Allen!" she cried, taking his face in her hands. "What has happened? Your head is bleeding! Are you badly hurt?" ”

“ He never changes none. Time and years don't mean nothin' to Drew. He started bein' a man when most of us is in short pants; he'll keep on bein' a man till he goes out. He ain't got many friends—real ones—but I don't know of any enemies, neither. All the time he's been on the range Drew has never done a crooked piece of work. Every decent man on the range would take his word ag'in'—well, ag'in' the Bible, for that matter."
They reached the barn at the end of this encomium, and Bard unsaddled his horse. The other watched him critically.
"Know somethin' about hosses, eh?" ”

“ An' when Ditty comes back with the loot; he ain't goin' to let you live to peach on 'im. No, siree, he ain't. Dead men tell no tales."
Drew waited no longer. He had no weapon with him, not even a knife. But he counted on the advantage of surprise. He gathered himself together, and, with the agility of a panther, leaped upon the shoulders of the man seated beneath him. They went to the deck with a crash. The fellow was stunned by the shock, and lay motionless; but Drew was on his feet in a second. ”

“ Drew has been amusing the American public for about thirty-five years, playing himself, I will admit. But the man's personality has made him a conspicuous and an agreeable player. He has also been the means of introducing not a few actresses to the world who have become famous.
Drew is a gentleman, on or off the stage, and while many of the play-folk do not consider him a great actor, they must admit that John is clean and that his father and mother were geniuses, which is something of which to be proud. ”

“ He continued: "A man who raised a riot in your own house, almost burned down your place, shot your man, stole a horse—gad, Drew, you are sublime!"
But if he expected an explanatory answer from the rancher he was disappointed. The latter pulled up a chair beside the bed and bent his stern eyes on the patient as if he were concentrating all of a great will on bringing Calamity Ben back to health.
He worked with the doctor. Every half hour a temperature was taken, and it was going up steadily. Drew heard the report each time with a tightening of the muscles about his jaws. ”

“ Once more clothed and feeling refreshed, Drew paced the afterdeck with his cigar, hearing the voices of Captain Hamilton and Tyke in the former's cabin, but having no desire just then to join them.
Although his body was rejuvenated, his mind was far from peaceful. He had not lost hope of their finding what they had come so far to search for; he still believed the pirate hoard to be buried on the side of the whale's hump. "Hope deferred maketh the heart sick;" but hope had not been long enough deferred in this case to sicken any of the party of treasure seekers. ”

“ Drew was all animation in an instant at the new hope that sprang up within him with its offer of possible safety for his companion and himself.
"Why didn't I think of it before?" he repeated, his voice shaken with excitement.
"You didn't think of it before, because you were working like a slave. No man can work like that and think of anything but what he is doing. Oh, Allen, won't it be great if you are right?" ”

“ There was something under the playfulness that touched Drew. "I told Connie that I wanted to talk to you about a plan of mine; well, so it is, but I want you to put the stamp of your sage approval upon it."
Drew shook his head.
"Hardly that," he said with a laugh, "but I'm willing to plot with you."
"I always think of you now," Ruth Dale continued, leaning toward the crackling logs, and holding her little benumbed hands open to the heat, "as 'the man who lives in his house by the side of the road, and is a friend to man'. Ralph, I need a friend! ”

“ Well, I knew nobody could ever stand up to Drew.
"The chief is talkin' fast and hard. The young feller shakes his head. Drew begins talkin' again. You'd think he was pleadin' for his life in front of a jury that meant him wrong. His hands go out like he was makin' an election speech. He holds one hand down like he was measurin' the height of a kid. He throws up his arms again like he'd lost everything in the world.
"And now Bard has dropped the hand from his face. He looks sort of interested. He steps closer to the grave again. Drew holds out both his arms. ”

“ Soon as Hunt set up here he sent for the boy and tried to give him a father."
"It is a great pity he has no child of his own blood. I have seen him stand here in Tubacca giving toys and candy to the little ones. Yet he has only this wild one under his roof, and perhaps that Juanito will break his heart in the end...."
Drew put down his cup. It was very hard not to turn and ask questions. Dropping some coins on the table, he rose and started back to the stable, to the world of Shiloh and Shadow where he was unable to betray Drew Rennie. But there was so much Drew Kirby must learn—and soon! ”

“ Drew continued, conscious that he was proving nothing, but clutching eagerly at every straw.
"You're no more a murderer than I am!" almost shouted Tyke, moved to the depth by Drew's distress.
"You're going to have the benefit of every doubt, my boy," the captain assured him soothingly. "But now you'd better go to your room and try to pull yourself together. We're all upset, and talking won't do us any good until we've got something else to go on. But you have got to promise me that you'll leave Ditty alone." ”

“ Drew tried to lift his head, tried to summon words to answer that demand. A sullen kind of pride made him release his hold and stand away from the bay, only to reel back and bring up hard against a rock, grating his arm painfully. He clung there for a moment and got out:
"Nothing a little sleep won't cure." He spoke into the dark outline of Hunt Rennie. "I'm all right."
Drew made a painful effort, pulled himself away from the rock to fumble at the cinches of the bay's saddle, only to be pushed aside. ”

“ The fellow crashed to the deck—down and out without a murmur. Drew, panting and limping, leaving a trail of blood wherever he stepped, secured some lengths of spun yarn and tied both mutineers hand and foot before he gave any attention to the murmuring prisoners.
"Now, men," he said, turning to the five, "you know me. I'm Mr. Drew and I'm no ghost."
"You don't hit like no ghost," grinned Trent. "I'm mighty glad you come, Mr. Drew. It would have been all up with us when old Bug-eye come back if you hadn't."
"You're fine fellows and all right to stand up for your captain," replied Drew ”

“ He found the imperturbable Drew deep in a book in his office. While he was drawing breath, the rancher examined him with a faint smile.
"I thought this would be the end of it," he announced.
"The devil and all hell plays on the side of Bard," answered the foreman. "I had him safe—almost tied hand and foot. He got away."
"Got away?"
"Shot the rope in two."
The other placed a book-mark, closed the volume, and looked up with the utmost serenity.
"Try again," he said quietly. "Take half a dozen men with you, surprise him in the night——"
"Surprise a wolf," growled Nash. "It's just the same." ”

“ Drew stood as though he were turned to stone. His tongue was paralyzed. He saw consternation in the faces of Tyke and the captain. He glimpsed the horror in the eyes of Ruth. Then, with a roar of rage, he hurled himself at the one-eyed mate.
"You lying hound!" he shouted. "If crime's been done, you've committed it."
Ditty slid back a step and met the younger man's charge with a coolness that showed his taunt had been premeditated and that this result was expected. As the enraged Drew closed in, the mate met him with a frightful swing to the side of his bandaged head. ”