The Short Cut | Page 8

spring up and run
out of the house to some hiding place in the old orchard and be alone.
But she answered, her eyes clear and truthful.
"I'm sorry. Oh, so sorry! Poor Wayne. That will make it so much harder
for him."
"Yes. It is going to make it hard for him, Wanda. Harder than you have
imagined." She paused as if considering the advisability of what she
had started to say, and then ended simply, hopelessly, "They are going
to think that Wayne shot him!"
"They mustn't!" cried Wanda hotly. "They haven't the right. It would be
thinking a lie, a wicked, hideous lie!"
Mrs. Leland shook her head sadly.
"Wanda," she went on quietly, "the first thing Garth said when I told
him was that Wayne had quarrelled with Arthur last night. I don't mind
so much what Garth says and does, but . . . I think that Martin is going
to suspect Wayne of this, if he doesn't already suspect him."
"But, surely father isn't so unjust, just because he doesn't like
Wayne . . ."
"If it were nothing more than just not liking him! Your father isn't
capable of a feeling that is merely negative about people, child. He

hated the boys' father; Wayne I think he hates as bitterly."
"But why, mamma? Surely there is no reason . . ."
"Men, strong men like your father, don't always wait for reasons,
Wanda," said Mrs. Leland gently. "He has never forgotten that had
circumstances been a very, very little different I might have married the
other Wayne Shandon. When we were married and the other Wayne
Shandon bought land so close to us your father was the angriest man I
ever saw. That was before your time, dear. He rode across the valley
the next day; he has never told me what happened but his face was still
white when he came home. There are only a few things which can stir
Martin into a passion like that."
"But, surely, mamma . . ."
"When the other Wayne Shandon married and the boys were born it
made no difference with Martin. When the other Wayne Shandon died
and his wife died and the boys were left the hatred in your father's
breast did not die with them. He transferred it to Arthur and the Wayne
you know. Toward Wayne especially it has grown strong and bitter."
"But why to him more than to Arthur?"
"Because, my dear, Wayne is his father over and over again! Because
he has the same red hair and the same eyes with the same way of
laughing. Because his voice is the same, his carriage is the same, his
mad, reckless heart the same. Because everytime that Martin sees the
Wayne Shandon that you know he sees the old Wayne Shandon I
knew . . . and he hated."
"But it can't be that if a man hates another, and he dies, the man will go
on hating his son just for being his son! Father is not so unjust as that,
mamma! He will not suspect Wayne of murder, of murdering his own
brother, just because of his father!"
Mrs. Leland's hands were interlocked tensely. "There are other reasons,
there will be other things remembered about the boy which will make

suspicion so easy."
"I know what you mean," the girl cried, breathing deeply. "He is
reckless, he is wild, I know. He gambles, he has quarrels with many
men. He does things that we would not do, but then we are women! He
does things that father would not do, but then father is not young any
longer! He is wild because his nature is inherited from his father; it's in
his blood, he's young and he has grown up with the far out places. But
he is not bad! He is not the kind of man to do a thing like this. What do
men call him, men who know him and what he is? They don't call him
Coward, they don't call him Cheat, they don't call him mean or
dishonest or ungenerous! They call him Reckless, Red Reckless, and
they love him! Oh, mamma, can't you see that it is impossible . . ."
Mrs. Leland rose to her feet, her face grown suddenly pinched and
white.
"I don't know," she said with a sigh.
"You believe it too!" cried the girl. "You think that Wayne Shandon
killed his own brother!"
A delicate flush stained her mother's cheeks.
"Wanda, child, you mustn't say that," she almost whispered. "I don't
believe it. I won't believe it. And if I did . . . Wanda, I'd remember the
man his father was, the gentleman, the true-hearted gentleman, and I
should say that I did not believe."
Then,