Adam Steele 15 River of Death by George G. Gilman

Author:George G. Gilman [Gilman, George G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

The Virginian shared a four berth portside cabin with Conners, Burton and Sanchez. Only the Mexican was there when Steele entered. He was stretched out on the straw-filled mattress on one of the cots, fully dressed except for his hat. His right hand tightened around the frame of his rifle which lay alongside his leg, and his eyelids snapped up when he heard the door open. Then he relaxed and closed his eyes again, without altering a line of his unruffled expression. The cabin was spartan, with no covering on the deckboard floor and no decorations on the bulkheads. There was just one window. In addition to the four cots - and, like them, bolted to the floor - there was a bureau with the mirror long gone from its frame. A tin basin was screwed to the top of the dresser and water leaked out around the screw. So Steele had to strip to the waist and wash and shave fast to beat the leakage. He used a cake of soap and razor taken from his saddlebags, on the heap of gear he had brought to the cabin before going for hot water. When he had dressed again and dusted off his clothes he still did not feel as clean as he liked to be. But, after an early life when he had been able to have anything he desired, he had learned to make compromises to the dictates of any given situation. And having made the most painful concession of all to his ruling fate, the rest were easy to endure. His home and his very birth right were gone forever. That had been the hardest reality to face and he had been made to suffer badly in learning this lesson. Many times after the death of his father and Deputy Jim Bishop he had sought to re-establish some semblance of what he had lost. Not in Virginia, for he had known at the moment he was strangling Bishop that he could never return there. But America was a big country and there were many corners of it which offered the opportunity for a man to enjoy a rich and peaceful life. Provided he had the money to pay for more than the basic essentials of living. But money in any consequential amount always either eluded Adam Steele or was snatched away from him. Until he was forced to admit to himself that his years of youthful plenty had been a trick of his cruel fate: that he had been allowed to enjoy them so that the present and future were bleaker than ever by contrast. Nowadays, he seldom hankered for what once had been. Not since he had drunk himself free of the need for hard liquor in a tiny Mexican village had he indulged in self-pity for his present lot. Lately, had abandoned all specific plans for the future. But some old habits and firmly established standards could not be shed. Thus he continued to enjoy the luxuries and finer things of life whenever there was the opportunity.

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