James M. Cain
Past All Dishonor
to Aileen
This book deals with the West of the silver boom, and the amateur of that era will find much in it which is familiar to him. The characters, however, are imaginary, as are the specific mines, establishments, and intrigues that engage them. They do not represent, and are not intended to represent, actual persons, places, or events, nor do they spring from local legend, directly or under disguise.
1
I first met her, this girl you’ll find soon enough, when she fished me out of the Sacramento River on an occasion when I was showing more originality than sense. I was taking a day off from my job, which was secesh spy, though I may as well say right away there was no bravery attached to it, or anything like what they put in the novels. Last year, when Lee got kicked out of Maryland, I figured it was time to quit griping at how the feds ruined Annapolis, and do something about it. So I was packed for Port Tobacco, where I was to cross into Virginia and enlist, when a friend of mine heard something that scared him worse than what had happened to Lee. He’s got a big statehouse job, and gets a lot of stuff not everybody gets. And he heard about the Column from California, as they called it, that crossed the Colorado and moved through Arizona and New Mexico into Texas, and when we laid it out on the map it looked like they were going to scoop the Confederacy right into the Gulf of Mexico like a scythe scoops wheat. So he got a bunch together, and they had it all night, and decided there was still a chance for the western republic idea, but that our trouble was we didn’t know anything about California. So I got elected to go out there and send news back. But right away they warned me not to send any military information, unless it was hot and important, in which case I was to wire in a simple code we had that wouldn’t be suspected. Mainly I was to send newspaper clippings, and as Sacramento was a central spot, specially for political stuff, I settled down there, and took a shack by the river, on the Yolo side, so I could use a glass on the boats and anything else I wanted to see without anybody asking why. Couple of days a week I rockered a placer up on the American River, so there couldn’t be any question about what I was doing there. As a matter of fact I got enough color to live on. About once a week I’d take a steamboat trip up one of the rivers, to see what was going on, and there’s been plenty. That independent republic may not be such a dream as you’d think. And every couple of days I’d send on my clippings, covering both sides, like I was just a young fellow keeping his friends back east up to date. On the wire part, there wasn’t much to send. California is not where the war is, and even in San Francisco, outside of training new outfits going east, there’s not much military news.
One day in spring it got hot, and I put on some trunks and went in the river. The Sacramento, it’s not any Severn, but it felt good just the same and I fooled around quite a while. Then a boat came in and I swam over for her wash. Then I decided to board her for a dive. Her bumpers were out, and by pulling up on her wheel I could catch one and go over the rail of the freight deck. But I had forgotten how they do on these river boats. They hit the pier like they hit it, put out a plank to let off passengers, and then later they snug in for the day. So when that wheel began to turn, it was bad news. All hands were wharfside, and nobody was there to hear me holler and maybe tell the engineer. I hung on for a second, but that was taking me right up in the box. I dropped, and that put me at the bottom of the river, with mud swirling all around me, and that wheel overtop of me hooking it up like a thunderstorm.
How long I was down there I don’t know, and if a blade clipped me I couldn’t be sure. Next thing I knew I was coming up, and my head was out, but I couldn’t breathe on account of the foam all around, smothering me. Then something hit me on the head and I grabbed it. It was a fire bucket, the kind that’s made of canvas, with a rope on it, that they heave into the river when they want water quick. I hung on, and got some air, and caught sight of her, but whether she was young or old or pretty or plain I didn’t notice. She tied the bucket to the section of rail that goes over the hatch, and stretched her hand down to me. It didn’t reach. She threw both legs over the rail, turned around with her back to the river, dropped a foot down, and told me to catch hold of it. I did, and then inch by inch I went up. Each time she’d pull, a little noise would come out of her mouth, but it had guts to it and I knew if I could just hold on she’d get me out.
Then I caught the deck, and then we were on the rail. After I got my breath back, I began to notice what she looked like. She was around medium height, but seemed taller because she was so slim. She had on a black silk dress with white dots, but with no hoops in it, and you could see what a soft willowy shape she had. She had a pale skin, black hair, and thick red lips. She was plenty good-looking. “Well say, that was pretty nice of you. Thanks.”
“That all the sense you’ve got? Fooling around a place that any couter would know enough to keep away from?”
“I craved me a dive.”
“You got one all right. You know what’s good for you you’ll go back where you come from and quit getting yourself in a mess somebody else has to pull you out of.”
“I still crave me a dive.”
“Then you still got no sense.”
I went up to the passenger deck, then on up to the texas deck, and straightened up for my dive. But then my head began pounding and that water looked an awful way down. Then I fell against the texas, and then I was down on the passenger deck again, holding on to the rail to keep from falling into the river. On the other side of the boat they were rolling freight, and she was down there on the freight deck, at the foot of the stairs. It crossed my mind, what was she doing there, when all other passengers had gone ashore? Then she happened to look up, and came racing up to where I was. She put her arm around me, took me in the main saloon, and from there into a stateroom, and sat me down. But my teeth started to chatter, and I thought if I didn’t get warm I’d die. She got a towel and rubbed me off dry. Then a blanket was around me and she was helping me to the bed. Then I was under the covers and that was all I knew for a while.
When I woke up it was dark and a lot of talk was going on outside the door. Pretty soon I began to listen, and it seemed to be between the boat captain, a deputy, and some woman that claimed she was robbed. “It was just an ordinary black pocketbook with a strap across the back for my fingers, but it contained all my worldly goods, twenty-six double eagle pieces, four dollars in silver, two cents in copper, my wedding certificate, and a lock of my boy’s hair that went in the army.”
“Where did you miss this here pocketbook?”
“At Rio Vista.”
“Not after they pulled out from Rio Vista?”
“Mr. Deputy, can’t I read? We were tied up at Rio Vista wharf with the sign looking me right in the face. I was watching the people come aboard, and my heart almost stopped when I realized I didn’t have my pocketbook. By the look on this girl’s face I knew she took it, and right away I went to the captain.”
“But it was Rio Vista?”
“How many times have I got to tell you?”
“Then it’s a Solano County case.”
“It’s — what?”
“It has to be handled by Solano County, not Sacramento County. I take her to Rio Vista, you go with me, I turn her over to the Solano County officers, and they hold her for the grand jury. The grand jury hears you, returns an indictment if the evidence warrants it, and the ease is tried.”