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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/16976-8.txt b/16976-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a20d7ac --- /dev/null +++ b/16976-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9156 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Texan, by James B. Hendryx + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Texan + A Story of the Cattle Country + + +Author: James B. Hendryx + + + +Release Date: October 31, 2005 [eBook #16976] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TEXAN*** + + +E-text prepared by Al Haines + + + +THE TEXAN + +A Story of the Cattle Country + +by + +JAMES B. HENDRYX + +Author of + +"The Gun Brand," "The Promise," etc. + + + + + + + +A. L. Burt Company +Publishers New York +Published by arrangement with G. P. Putnam's Sons +Made in the United States of America + +Copyright, 1918 +By +James B. Hendryx + +Fourth Printing + + + + +This edition is issued under arrangement with the publishers +G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York And London + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +Chapter + + A PROLOGUE + I. THE TRAIN STOPS + II. WOLF RIVER + III. PURDY + IV. CINNABAR JOE + V. ON THE FLAT + VI. THE RIM OF THE BENCH + VII. THE ARREST + VIII. ONE WAY OUT + IX. THE PILGRIM + X. THE FLIGHT + XI. A RESCUE + XII. TEX DOES SOME SCOUTING + XIII. A BOTTLE OF "HOOCH" + XIV. ON ANTELOPE BUTTE + XV. THE TEXAN HEARS SOME NEWS + XVI. BACK IN CAMP + XVII. IN THE BAD LANDS + XVIII. "WIN" + XIX. THE END OF THE TRAIL + + + + +THE TEXAN + + +A PROLOGUE + +Exactly twenty minutes after young Benton dismounted from his big rangy +black before the door of a low adobe saloon that fronted upon one of the +narrow crooked streets of old Las Vegas, he glanced into the eyes of the +thin-lipped croupier and laughed. "You've got 'em. Seventy-four good +old Texas dollars." He held up a coin between his thumb and forefinger. +"I've got another one left, an' your boss is goin' to get that, too--but +he's goin' to get it in legitimate barter an' trade." + +As the cowpuncher stepped to the bar that occupied one side of the room, +a group of Mexicans who had lounged back at his entrance crowded once +more about the wheel and began noisily to place their bets. He watched +them for a moment before turning his attention to the heavy-lidded, +flabby-jowled person who leaned ponderously against the sober side of the +bar. + +"Who owns this joint?" he asked truculently, as he eyed with disfavour +the filthy shirt-sleeves rolled back from thick forearms, the sagging +vest, and the collarless shirt-band that buried itself in a fold of the +fat neck. + +"I do," was the surly rejoinder. "Got any kick comin'?" + +"Nary kick." The cowpuncher tossed his dollar onto the bar. "Give me a +little red licker," he ordered, and grinned at the sullen proprietor as +he filled his glass to the brim. + +"An outfit," he confided, with slow insolence, "that'll run an eagle-bird +wheel ain't got no more conscience than a _hombre's_ got brains that'll +buck one. In Texas we'd shoot a man full of little holes that 'ud try +it." + +"Why'n you stay in Texas, then?" growled the other. + +The cowman drank his liquor and refilled the glass. "Most fat men," he +imparted irrelevantly, "are plumb mindful that they're easy hit, an' +consequent they're cheerful-hearted an' friendly. Likewise, they mind +their own business, which is also why they've be'n let grow to onhuman +proportions. But, not to seem oncivil to a stranger, an' by way of +gettin' acquainted, I'll leak it out that it ain't no fault of Texas that +I come away from there--but owin' only to a honin' of mine to see more of +the world than what Texas affords. + +"The way to see a world," I debates, "is like anythin' else--begin at the +bottom an' work up. So I selects seventy-five dollars an' hits fer Las +Vegas." + +The fat man pocketed the dollar and replaced it with a greasy fifty-cent +piece, an operation which the Texan watched with interest as he swallowed +his liquor. + +"They ain't nothin' like eagle-bird wheels an' snake-liniment at two bits +a throw to help a man start at the bottom," he opined, and reaching for +the half-dollar, tossed it to a forlorn-looking individual who lounged +near the door. "Here, Greaser, lend a hand in helpin' me downward! +Here's four bits. Go lay it on the wheel--an' say: I got a hunch! I +played every number on that wheel except the thirteen--judgin' it to be +onlucky." The forlorn one grinned his understanding, and clutching the +piece of silver, elbowed into the group that crowded the roulette wheel. +The cowpuncher turned once more to the surly proprietor: + +"So now you see me, broke an' among evil companions, in this here +God-forsaken, lizard-ridden, Greaser-loving sheep-herdin' land of sorrow. +But, give me another jolt of that there pizen-fermentus an' I'll raise to +heights unknown. A few more shots of that an' they ain't no tellin' what +form of amusement a man's soul might incline to." + +"Y'got the price?" + +"I ain't got even the makin's--only an ingrowin' cravin' fer spiritual +licker an' a hankerin' to see America first----" + +"That hoss," the proprietor jerked a thumb toward the open door beyond +which the big rangy black pawed fretfully at the street. "Mebbe we might +make a trade. I got one good as him 'er better. It's that sor'l +standin' t'other side of yourn." + +The Texan rested an arm upon the bar and leaned forward confidentially. +"Fatty," he drawled, "you're a liar." The other noted the hand that +rested lightly upon the cowman's hip near the ivory butt of the six-gun +that protruded from its holster, and took no offence. His customer +continued: "They ain't no such horse--an' if they was, _you_ couldn't own +him. They ain't no man ever throw'd a kak on Ace of Spades but me, an' +as fer sellin' him, or tradin' him--I'll shoot him first!" + +A sudden commotion at the back of the room caused both men to turn toward +the wheel where a fierce altercation had arisen between the croupier and +the vagabond to whom the Texan had tossed his last coin. + +"You'll take that er nothin'! It's more money'n y'ever see before +an'----" + +"_Non_! _Non_! De _treize_! De, w'at you call t'irten--she repe't! +A'm git mor' as seex hondre dollaire--" The proprietor lumbered heavily +from behind the bar and Benton noted that the thick fingers closed +tightly about the handle of a bung-starter. The crowd of Mexicans +thinned against the wall as the man with ponderous stealth approached to +a point directly behind the excited vagabond who continued his +protestations with increasing vigour. The next instant the Texan's +six-gun flashed from its holster and as he crossed the room his eye +caught the swift nod of the croupier. + +When the proprietor drew back his arm to strike, the thick wrist was +seized from behind and he was spun violently about to glare into the +smiling eyes of the cowpuncher--eyes in which a steely glint flickered +behind the smile, a glint more ominous even than the feel of the muzzle +of the blue-black six-gun that pressed deeply into his flabby paunch just +above the waistband of his trousers. + +"Drop that mallet!" The words came softly, but with an ungentle softness +that was accompanied by a boring, twisting motion of the gun muzzle as it +pressed deeper into his midriff. The bung-starter thudded upon the floor. + +"Now let's get the straight of this," continued the Texan. "Hey, you +Greaser, if you c'n quit talkin' long enough to say somethin', we'll find +out what's what here. You ort to look both ways when you're in a dump +like this or the coyotes'll find out what you taste like. Come on, +now--give me the facts in the case an' I'll a'joodicate it to suit all +parties that's my way of thinkin'." + +"_Oui_! A'm play de four bit on de _treize_, an' _voila_! She ween! +Da's wan gran' honch! A'm play heem wan tam' mor'. De w'eel she spin +'roun', de leetle ball she sing lak de bee an', _Nom de Dieu_! She +repe't! De t'irten ween ag'in. A'm reech--But _non_!" The man pointed +excitedly to the croupier who sneered across the painted board upon which +a couple of gold pieces lay beside a little pile of silver. "A-ha, +_canaille_! Wat you call--son of a dog! T'ief! She say, 'feefty +dollaire'! Dat more as seex hondre dollaire----" + +"It's a lie!" cried the croupier fiercely, "the thirteen don't repeat. +The sixteen win--you kin see fer yourself. An' what's more, they can't +no damn Injun come in here an' call me no----" + +"Hold on!" The Texan shifted his glance to the croupier without easing +the pressure on the gun. "If the sixteen win, what's the fifty bucks +for? His stake's on the thirteen, ain't it?" + +"What business you got, hornin' in on this? It hain't your funeral. You +Texas tin-horns comes over here an' lose----" + +"That'll be about all out of you. An' if I was in your boots I wouldn't +go speakin' none frivolous about funerals, neither." + +The smile was gone from the steel-grey eyes and the croupier experienced +a sudden chilling in the pit of his stomach. + +"Let's get down to cases," the cowpuncher continued. "I kind of got the +Greaser into this here jack-pot an' it's up to me to get him out. He +lays four bits on the thirteen--she pays thirty-five--that's +seventeen-fifty. Eighteen, as she lays. The blame fool leaves it lay +an' she win again--that's thirty-five times eighteen. Good Lord! An' +without no pencil an' paper! We'll cut her up in chunks an' tackle her: +let's see, ten times eighteen is one-eighty, an' three times that +is--three times the hundred is three hundred, and three times the eighty +is two-forty. That's five-forty, an' a half of one-eighty is ninety, an' +five-forty is six-thirty. We'd ort to double it fer interest an' +goodwill, but we'll leave it go at the reglar price. So, just you skin +off six hundred an' thirty bucks, an' eighteen more, an' pass 'em acrost. +An' do it _pronto_ or somethin' might happen to Fatty right where he's +thickest." The cowpuncher emphasized his remarks by boring the muzzle +even deeper into the unctuous periphery of the proprietor. The croupier +shot a questioning glance toward his employer. + +"Shell it out! You fool!" grunted that worthy. "Fore this gun comes out +my back. An', besides, it's cocked!" Without a word the croupier +counted out the money, arranging it in little piles of gold and silver. + +As the vagabond swept the coins into his battered Stetson the Texan gave +a final twist to the six-gun. "If I was you, Fatty, I'd rub that there +thirteen number off that wheel an' paint me a tripple-ought or mebbe, +another eagle-bird onto it." + +He turned to the man who stood grinning over his hatful of money: + +"Come on, Pedro, me an' you're goin' away from here. The licker this +_hombre_ purveys will shore lead to bloodshed an' riotin', besides which +it's onrespectable to gamble anyhow." + +Pausing to throw the bridle reins over the horn of his saddle, the Texan +linked his arm through that of his companion and proceeded down the +street with the big black horse following like a dog. After several +minutes of silence he stopped and regarded the other thoughtfully. + +"Pedro," he said, "me an' you, fallin' heir to an onexpected legacy this +way, it's fit an' proper we should celebrate accordin' to our lights. +The common an' onchristian way would be to spliflicate around from one +saloon to another 'till we'd took in the whole town an' acquired a couple +of jags an' more or less onfavourable notoriety. Then, in a couple of +days or two, we'd wake up with fur on our tongue an inch long an' our +wealth divided amongst thieves. But, Pedro, such carryin's-on is +ondecent an' improvident. Take them great captains of industry you read +about! D'you reckon every pay-day old Andy Rockyfellow goes a rampin' +down Main Street back there in Noo York, proclaimin' he's a wolf an' it's +his night to howl? Not on your tintype, he don't! If he did he'd never +of rose out of the rank an' file of the labourin' class, an' chances is, +would of got fired out of that fer not showin' up at the corral Monday +mornin'! Y'see I be'n a-readin' up on the lives of these here saints to +kind of get a line on how they done it. Take that whole bunch an' they +wasn't hardly a railroad nor a oil mill nor a steel factory between 'em +when they was born. I got all their numbers. I know jest how they done +it, an' when I get time I'm a-goin' out an' make the Guggenhimers cough +up my share of Mexico an' the Rocky Mountains an' Alaska. + +"But to get down to cases, as the preachers says: Old Andy he don't +cantankerate none noticeable. When he feels needful of a jamboree he +goes down to the bank an' fills his pockets an' a couple of valises with +change, an' gum-shoes down to John D. Swab's, an' they hunt up Charley +Carnage an' a couple of senators an' a rack of chips an' they finds 'em a +back room, pulls off their collars an' coats an' goes to it. They ain't +no kitty only to cover the needful expenses of drinks, eats, an' +smokes--an' everything goes, from cold-decks to second-dealin'. Then +when they've derove recreation enough, on goes their collars an' coats, +an' they eat a handful of cloves an' get to work on the public again. +They's a lot of money changes hands in these here sessions but it never +gets out of the gang, an' after you get their brands you c'n generally +always tell who got gouged by noticin' what goes up. If coal oil hists a +couple of cents on the gallon you know Andy carried his valises home +empty an' if railroad rates jumps--the senators got nicked a little, an' +vicy versy. Now you an' me ain't captains of industry, nor nothin' else +but our own soul, as the piece goes, but 'tain't no harm we should try a +law-abidin' recreation, same as these others, an' mebbe after some +practice we'll get to where the Guggenhimers will be figgerin' how to get +the western hemisphere of North America back from us. + +"It's like this. Me an' you'll stop in an' get us a couple of drinks. +Then we'll hunt us up a hash-house an' put a big bate of ham an' aigs out +of circulation, an' go get us a couple more drinks, an' heel ourselves +with a deck of cards an' a couple bottles of cactus juice, an' hunt us up +a place where we'll be ondisturbed by the riotorious carryin's-on of the +frivolous-minded, an' we'll have us a two-handed poker game which no +matter who wins we can't lose, like I was tellin' you, 'cause they can't +no outside parties horn in on the profits. But first-off we'll hunt up a +feed barn so Ace of Spades can load up on oats an' hay while we're havin' +our party." + +An hour later the Texan deposited a quart bottle, a rack of chips, and a +deck of cards on a little deal table in the dingy back room of a saloon. + +"I tell you, Pedro, they's a whole lot of fancy trimmin's this room ain't +got, but it's quiet an' peaceable an' it'll suit our purpose to a gnat's +hind leg." He dropped into a chair and reached for the rack of chips. + +"It's a habit of mine to set facin' the door," he continued, as he +proceeded to remove the disks and arrange them into stacks. "So if you +got any choist just set down acrost the table there an' we'll start the +festivities. I'll bank the game an' we'll take out a fifty-dollar stack +an' play table stakes." He shoved three stacks of chips across the +table. "Just come acrost with fifty bucks so's we c'n keep the bank +straight an' go ahead an' deal. An' while you're a-doin' it, bein' as +you're a pretty good Greaser, I'll just take a drink to you----" + +"Greasaire, _non_! Me, A'm hate de damn Greasaire!" + +The cowpuncher paused with the bottle half way to his lips and +scrutinized the other: "I thought you was a little off colour an' talked +kind of funny. What be you?" + +"Me, A'm Blood breed. Ma fader she French. Ma moder she Blood Injun. +A'm leeve een Montan' som'tam'--som'tam' een Canada. A'm no lak dees +contrie! Too mooch hot. Too mooch Greasaire! Too mooch sheep. A'm lak +I go back hom'. A'm ride for T. U. las' fall an' A'm talk to round-up +cook, Walt Keeng, hees nam', an' he com' from Areezoon'. She no like +Montan'. She say Areezoon' she bettaire--no fence--beeg range--plent' +cattle. You goin' down dere an' git job you see de good contrie. You no +com' back Nort' no more. So A'm goin' down w'en de col' wedder com' an' +A'm git de job wit' ol' man Fisher on, w'at you call Yuma +bench--_Sacré_!" The half-breed paused and wiped his face. + +"Didn't you like it down Yuma Way?" Benton smiled. + +"Lak it! _Voila_! No wataire! No snow! Too mooch, w'at you call, de +leezard! Een de wintaire, A'm so Godamn hot A'm lak for die. _Non_! +A'm com' way from dere. A'm goin' Nort' an' git me nodder job w'ere A'm +git som' wataire som'tam'. Mebbe so git too mooch col' in wintaire, but, +_voila_! Better A'm lak I freeze l'il bit as burn oop!" + +The Texan laughed. "I don't blame you none. I never be'n down to Yuma +but they tell me it's hell on wheels. Go ahead an' deal, Pedro." + +"Pedro, _non_! Ma moder she nam' Moon Eye, an' ma fader she Cross-Cut +Lajune. Derefor', A'm Batiste Xavier Jean Jacques de Beaumont Lajune." + +The bottle thumped upon the table top. + +"What the hell is that, a name or a song?" + +"Me, das ma nam'--A'm call Batiste Xavier Jean----" + +"Hold on there! If your ma or pa, or whichever one done the namin' +didn't have no expurgated dictionary handy mebbe they ain't to blame--but +from now on, between you an' me, you're Bat. That's name enough, an' the +John Jack Judas Iscariot an' General Jackson part goes in the discards. +An' bein' as this here is only a two-handed game, the discards is +dead---- See?" + +At the end of an hour the half-breed watched with a grin as the Texan +raked in a huge pile of chips. + +"Dat de las'," he said, "Me, A'm broke." + +"Broke!" exclaimed the cowpuncher, "you don't mean you've done lost all +that there six hundred an' forty-eight bucks?" He counted the little +piles of silver and gold, which the half-breed had shoved across the +board in return for stack after stack of chips. + +"Six-forty-two," he totalled. "Let's see, supper was a dollar an' four +bits, drinks two dollars, an' two dollars for this bottle of prune-juice +that's about gone already, an'--Hey, Bat, you're four bits shy! Frisk +yourself an' I'll play you a showdown for them four bits." The other +grinned and held a silver half dollar between his finger and thumb. + +"_Non_! A'm ke'p dat four bit! Dat lucky four bit. A'm ponch hole in +heem an' car' heem roun' ma neck lak' de medicine bag. A'm gon' back +Nort'--me! A'm got no frien's. You de only friend A'm got. You give me +de las' four bit. You, give me de honch to play de t'irteen. A'm git +reech, an' den you mak' de bank, w'at you call, com' 'crost. Now A'm +goin' back to Montan' an' git me de job. Wat de hell!" + +"Where's your outfit?" asked the Texan as he carefully stowed the money +in his pockets. + +"Ha! Ma outfeet--A'm sell dat outfeet to git de money to com' back hom'. +A'm play wan leetle gam' coon can an' _voila_! A'm got no money. De +damn Greasaire she ween dat money an' A'm broke. A'm com' som'tam' on de +freight train--som'tam' walk, an' A'm git dees far. Tomor' A'm git de +freight train goin' Nort' an' som'tam' A'm git to Montan'. Eet ees ver' +far, but mebbe-so A'm git dere for fall round-up. An' Ba Goss, A'm +nevaire com' sout' no mor'. Too mooch hot! Too mooch no wataire! Too +mooch, w'at you call, de pizen boog--mebbe-so in de bed--in de pants--in +de boot--you git bite an' den you got to die! Voila! Wat de hell!" + +The Texan laughed and reaching into his pocket drew out two twenty dollar +gold pieces and a ten which thudded upon the table before the astonished +eyes of the half-breed. + +"Here, Bat, you're a damn good Injun! You're plumb squanderous with your +money, but you're a good sport. Take that an' buy you a ticket to as far +North as it'll get you. Fifty bucks ort to buy a whole lot of car +ridin'. An' don't you stop to do no gamblin', neither---- Ain't I told +you it's onrespectable an' divertin' to morals? If you don't _sabe_ coon +can no better'n what you do poker, you stand about as much show amongst +these here Greasers as a rabbit in a coyote patch. It was a shame to +take your money this way, but bein' as you're half-white it was up to me +to save you the humiliatin' agony of losin' it to Greasers." + +The half-breed pocketed the coins as the other buttoned his shirt and +took another long pull at the bottle. + +"Wer' you goin' now?" he asked as the cowpuncher started for the door. +The man paused and regarded him critically. "First off, I'm goin' to get +my horse. An' then me an' you is goin' down to the depot an' you're +a-goin' to buy that there ticket. I'm a-goin' to see that you get it +ironclad an' onredeemable, I ain't got no confidence in no gambler an' +bein' as I've took a sort of likin' to you, I hate to think of you +a-walkin' clean to Montana in them high-heeled boots. After that I'm +a-goin' to start out an' examine this here town of Las Vegas lengthways, +crossways, down through the middle, an' both sides of the crick. An' +when that's off my mind, I'm a-goin' to begin on the rest of the world." +He moved his arm comprehensively and reached for the bottle. + +"You wait right here till I get old Ace of Spades," he continued solemnly +when he had rasped the raw liquor from his throat. "If you ain't here +when I come back I'll swallow-fork your ears with this here gat just to +see if my shootin' eye is in practice. The last time I done any fancy +shootin' I was kind of wild--kep' a-hittin' a little to one side an' the +other--not much, only about an inch or so--but it wasn't right good +shootin'." + +The half-breed grinned: "A'm stay here till you com' back. A'm fin' dat +you ma frien'. A'm lak' you, _bien_!" + +When the Texan returned, fifteen minutes later, the man of many names was +gone. "It's just like I said, you can't trust no gambler," he muttered, +with a doleful nod of the head. "He's pulled out on me, but he better +not infest the usual marts of midnight. 'Cause I'm a-goin' to start out +an' take in everything that's open in this man's town, an' if I find him +I'll just nachelly show him the onprincipledness of lyin' to a friend." + +Stepping to the bar he bought a drink and a moment later swung onto the +big rangy black and clattered down the street. At the edge of the town +he turned and started slowly back, dismounting wherever the lights of a +saloon illumined the dingy street, but never once catching a glimpse of +the figure that followed in the thick blackness of the shadows. Before +the saloon of the surly proprietor the cowpuncher brought his big black +to a stand and sat contemplating the sorrel that stood dejectedly with +ears adroop and one hind foot resting lightly upon the toe. + +"So that's the cayuse Fatty wanted to trade me for Ace of Spades!" he +snorted. "That dog-legged, pot-gutted, lop-eared patch of red he offers +to trade to _me_ fer _Ace of Spades_! It's a doggone insult! I didn't +know it at the time, havin' only a couple of drinks, an' too sober to +judge a insult when I seen one. But it's different now, I can see it in +the dark. I'm a-goin' in there an'--an' twist his nose off an' feed it +to him. But first I got to find old Bat. He's an Injun, but he's a good +old scout, an' I hate to think of him walkin' all the way to Montana +while some damn Greaser is spendin' my hard earned samolians that I give +him for carfare. It's a long walk to Montana. Plumb through Colorado +an' Wyomin' an'--an' New Jersey, or somewheres. Mebbe he's in there now. +As they say in the Bible, or somewheres, you got to hunt for a thing +where you find it, or something. Hold still, there you black devil you! +What you want to stand there spinnin' 'round like a top for? You be'n +drinkin', you doggone old ringtail! What was I goin' to do, now. Oh, +yes, twist Patty's nose, an' find Bat an' shoot at his ears a while, an' +make him get his ticket to New Jersey an'---- + +"This is a blame slow old town, she needs wakin' up, anyhow. If I ride +in that door I'll get scraped off like mud off a boot." + +He spurred the black and brought him up with a jerk beside the sorrel +which snorted and reared back, snapping the reins with which he had been +tied, and stood with distended nostrils sniffing inquiringly at Ace of +Spades as the cowpuncher swung to the ground. + +"Woke up, didn't you, you old stager? Y'ain't so bad lookin' when you're +alive. Patty'll have to get him a new pair of bridle reins. Mebbe the +whole town'll look better if it's woke up some. + +"Y-e-e-e-e-o-w! Cowboys a-comin'!" + +A citizen or two paused on the street corner, a few Mexicans grinned as +they drew back to allow the Gringo free access to the saloon, and a +swarthy figure slipped unobserved across the street and blended into the +shadow of the adobe wall. + +"O-o-o-o-o-h, the yaller r-o-s-e of Texas!" sang the cowpuncher, with +joyous vehemence. As he stepped into the room, his eyes swept the faces +of the gamblers and again he burst into vociferous song: + +"O-o-o-o-o-h, w-h-e-r-e is my wanderin' b-o-y tonight?" + +"Hey, you! Whad'ye think this is, a camp meetin'?" + +The Texan faced the speaker. "Well, if it ain't my old college chum! +Fatty, I stopped in a purpose to see you. An' besides which, by the +unalien rights of the Constitution an' By-laws of this here United States +of Texas, a man's got a right to sing whatever song suits him +irregardless of sex or opportunity." The other glared malevolently as +the cowpuncher approached the bar with a grin. "Don't bite yourself an' +die of hydrophobia before your eggication is complete, which it ain't +till you've learnt never to insult no Texas man by offerin' to trade no +rat-tailed, ewe-necked old buzzard fodder fer a top Texas horse. + +"Drop that mallet! An' don't go reachin-' around in under that bar, +'cause if you find what you're huntin' fer you're a-goin' to see fer +yourself if every cloud's got a silver linin'. 'Tend to business now, +an' set out a bottle of your famous ol' Las Vegas stummick shellac an' +while I'm imbibin' of its umbilical ambrosier, I'll jest onscrew your +nose an' feed it to the cat." + +Sweat stood out upon the forehead of the heavy-paunched proprietor as +with a flabby-faced grin he set out the bottle. But the Texan caught the +snake-like flash of the eyes with which the man signalled to the croupier +across the room. Gun in hand, he whirled: + +"No, you don't, Toney!" An ugly blue-black automatic dropped to the +floor and the croupier's hands flew ceilingward. + +"I never seen such an outfit to be always a-reachin'," grinned the +cowpuncher. "Well, if there ain't the ol' eagle-bird wheel! Give her a +spin, Toney! They say you can't hit an eagle on the fly with a six-gun, +but I'm willin' to try! Spin her good, 'cause I don't want no onfair +advantage of that there noble bird. Stand back, Greasers, so you don't +get nicked!" + +As the croupier spun the wheel, three shots rang in an almost continuous +explosion and the gamblers fell over each other in an effort to dodge the +flying splinters that filled the powder-fogged air. + + "Little black bull slid down the mountain, + L-o-n-g t-i-m-e ago!" + +roared the Texan as he threw open the cylinder of his gun. + + "H-e-e-e-e scraped his horn on a hickory saplin', + L-o-n-g t-i-m-e ago----" + +There was a sudden commotion behind him, a swift rush of feet, a muffled +thud, and a gasping, agonized grunt. The next instant the huge acetelyne +lamp that lighted the room fell to the floor with a crash and the place +was plunged in darkness. + +"Queek, m's'u, dees way!" a hand grasped his wrist and the cowpuncher +felt himself drawn swiftly toward the door. From all sides sounded the +scuffling of straining men who breathed heavily as they fought in the +blackness. + +A thin red flame cut the air and a shot rang sharp. Someone screamed and +a string of Spanish curses blended into the hubbub of turmoil. + +"De hosses, queek, m's'u!" + +The cool air of the street fanned the Texan's face as he leaped across +the sidewalk, and vaulted into the saddle. The next moment the big black +was pounding the roadway neck and neck with another, smaller horse upon +which the half-breed swayed in the saddle with the ease and grace of the +loose-rein rider born. + +It was broad daylight when the cowpuncher opened his eyes in an arroyo +deep among the hills far, far from Las Vegas. He rubbed his forehead +tenderly, and crawling to a spring a few feet distant, buried his face in +the tiny pool and drank deeply of the refreshing liquid. Very +deliberately he dried his face on a blue handkerchief, and fumbled in his +pockets for papers and tobacco. As he blew the grey smoke from his +nostrils he watched the half-breed who sat nearby industriously splicing +a pair of broken bridle reins. + +"Did you get that ticket, Bat?" he asked, with a hand pressed tightly +against his aching forehead. + +The other grinned. "Me, A'm no wan' no ticket. A'm lak A'm stay wit' +you, an' mebbe-so we git de job togedder." + +The cowpuncher smoked for a time in silence. + +"What was the rookus last night?" he asked, indifferently. Then, +suddenly, his eye fell upon the sorrel that snipped grass at the end of a +lariat rope near the picketed black, and he leaped to his feet. "Where'd +you get that horse?" he exclaimed sharply. "It's Fatty's! There's the +reins he busted when he snorted loose!" + +Again the half-breed grinned. "A'm bor' dat hoss for com' 'long wit' +you. Dat Fatty, she damn bad man. She try for keel you w'en you tak' de +shot at de wheel. A'm com' 'long dat time an' A'm keek heem in de guts +an' he roll 'roun' on de floor, an' A'm t'row de bottle of wheesky an' +smash de beeg lamp an' we com' 'long out of dere." The cowpuncher tossed +his cigarette away and spat upon the ground. + +"How'd you happen to come in there so handy just at the right time?" he +asked with a sidewise glance at the half-breed. + +"Oh, A'm fol' you long tam'. A'm t'ink mebbe-so you git l'il too mooch +hooch an' som'one try for do you oop. A'm p'ek in de door an' seen Fatty +gon' shoot you. Dat mak' me mad lak hell, an' A'm run oop an' keek heem +so hard I kin on hees belly. You ma frien'. A'm no lak I seen you git +keel." + +The Texan nodded. "I see. You're a damn good Injun, Bat, an' I ain't +got no kick comin' onto the way you took charge of proceedin's. But you +sure raised hell when you stole that horse. They's prob'ly about +thirty-seven men an' a sheriff a-combin' these here hills fer us at this +partic'lar minute an' when they catch us----" + +The half-breed laughed. "Dem no ketch. We com' feefty mile. Dat leetle +hoss she damn good hoss. We got de two bes' hoss. We ke'p goin' dey no +ketch. 'Spose dey do ketch. Me, A'm tell 'em A'm steal dat hoss an' you +not know nuthin' 'bout dat." + +There was a twinkle in the Texan's eye as he yawned and stretched +prodigiously. "An' I'll tell 'em you're the damnedest liar in the state +of Texas an' North America throw'd in. Come on, now, you throw the +shells on them horses an' we'll be scratchin' gravel. Fifty miles ain't +no hell of a ways--my throat's beginnin' to feel kind of draw'd already." + +"W'er' we goin'?" asked the half-breed as they swung into the saddles. + +"Bat," said the other, solemnly, "me an' you is goin' fast, an' we're +goin' a long time. You mentioned somethin' about Montana bein' +considerable of a cow country. Well, me an' you is a-goin' North--as far +North as cattle is--an' we're right now on our way!" + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE TRAIN STOPS + +"I don't see why they had to build their old railroad down in the +bottom of this river bed." With deft fingers Alice Marcum caught back +a wind-tossed whisp of hair. "It's like travelling through a trough." + +"Line of the least resistance," answered her companion as he rested an +arm upon the polished brass guard rail of the observation car. "This +river bed, running east and west, saved them millions in bridges." + +The girl's eyes sought the sky-line of the bench that rose on both +sides of the mile-wide valley through which the track of the great +transcontinental railroad wound like a yellow serpent. + +"It's level up there. Why couldn't they have built it along the edge?" + +The man smiled: "And bridged all those ravines!" he pointed to gaps and +notches in the level sky-line where the mouths of creek beds and +coulees flashed glimpses of far mountains. "Each one of those ravines +would have meant a trestle and trestles run into big money." + +"And so they built the railroad down here in this ditch where people +have to sit and swelter and look at their old shiny rails and scraggly +green bushes and dirt walls, while up there only a half a mile away the +great rolling plains stretch away to the mountains that seem so near +you could walk to them in an hour." + +"But, my dear girl, it would not be practical. Railroads are built +primarily with an eye to dividends and--" The girl interrupted him +with a gesture of impatience. + +"I hate things that are practical--hate even the word. There is +nothing in all the world so deadly as practicability. It is ruthless +and ugly. It disregards art and beauty and all the higher things that +make life worth living. It is a monster whose god is dollars--and who +serves that god well. What does any tourist know of the real West--the +West that lies beyond those level rims of dirt? How much do you or I +know of it? The West to us is a thin row of scrub bushes along a +narrow, shallow river, with a few little white-painted towns sprinkled +along, that for all we can see might be in Illinois or Ohio. I've been +away a whole winter and for all the West I've seen I might as well have +stayed in Brooklyn." + +"But certainly you enjoyed California!" + +"California! Yes, as California. But California isn't the _West_! +California is New York with a few orange groves thrown in. It is a +tourist's paradise. A combination of New York and Palm Beach. The +real West lies east of the Rockies, the uncommercialized, +unexploited--I suppose you would add, the unpractical West. A New +Yorker gets as good an idea of the West when he travels by train to +California as a Californian would get of New York were he to arrive by +way of the tube and spend the winter in the Fritz-Waldmore." + +"I rather liked California, what little I saw of it. A business trip +does not afford an ideal opportunity for sight seeing." + +"You like Newport and Palm Beach, too." + +The man ignored the interruption. + +"But, at least, this trip has combined a good bit of business with a +very big bit of pleasure. It is two years since I have seen you +and----" + +"And so you're going to tell me for the twenty-sixth time in three days +that you still love me, and that you want me to marry you, and I'll +have to say 'no' again, and explain that I'm not ready to marry +anybody." She regarded him with an air of mock solemnity. "But really +Mr. Winthrop Adams Endicott I think you _have_ improved since you +struck out for yourself into the wilds of--where was it, Ohio, or some +place." + +"Cincinnati," answered the man a trifle stiffly. The girl shuddered. +"I had to change cars there once." Again she eyed him critically. +"Yes, two years have made a really noticeable improvement. Do the +Cincinnati newspapers always remember to use your whole name or do they +dare to refer to Winthrop A. Endicott. If I were a reporter I really +believe I'd try it once. If you keep on improving, some day somebody +is going to call you Win." + +The man flushed: "Are you never serious?" he asked. + +"Never more so than this minute." + +"You say you are not ready to many. You expect to marry, then, +sometime?" + +"I don't _expect_ to. I'm _going_ to." + +"Will you marry me when you are ready?" + +The girl laughed. "Yes, if I can't find the man I want, I think I +shall. But he must be somewhere," she continued, after a pause during +which her eyes centred upon the point where the two gleaming rails +vanished into the distance. "He must be impractical, and human, +and--and _elemental_. I'd rather be smashed to pieces in the Grand +Canyon, than live for ever on the Erie Canal!" + +"Aren't you rather unconventional in your tastes----?" + +"If I'm not, I'm a total failure! I hate conventionality! And lines +of least resistance! And practical things! It is the _men_ who are +the real sticklers for convention. The same kind of men that follow +the lines of least resistance and build their railroads along +them--because it is practical! + +"I don't see why you want to marry me!" she burst out resentfully. +"I'm not conventional, nor practical. And I'm not a line of least +resistance!" + +"But I love you. I have always loved you, and----" + +The girl interrupted him with a quick little laugh, which held no trace +of resentment. "Yes, yes, I know. I believe you do. And I'm glad +because really, Winthrop, you're a dear. There are lots of things +about you I admire. Your teeth, and eyes, and the way you wear your +clothes. If you weren't so terribly conventional, so cut and dried, +and matter of fact, and _safe_, I might fall really and truly in love +with you. But--Oh, I don't know! Here I am, twenty-three. And I +suppose I'm a little fool and have never grown up. I like to read +stories about knights errant, and burglars, and fair ladies, and +pirates, and mysterious dark oriental-looking men. And I like to go to +places where everybody don't go--only Dad won't let me and---- Why +just think!" she exclaimed in sudden wrath, "I've been in California +for three months and I've ridden over the same trails everybody else +has ridden over, and motored over the same roads and climbed the same +mountains, and bathed at the same beach, and I've met everybody I ever +knew in New York, just as I would have met them in Newport or Palm +Beach or in Paris or Venice or Naples for that matter!" + +"But why go off the beaten track where everything is arranged for your +convenience? These people are experienced travellers. They know that +by keeping to the conventional routes-----" + +"Winthrop Adams Endicott, if you say that word again I'll shriek! Or +I'll go in from this platform and not speak to you again--ever! You +know very well that there isn't a traveller among them. They're just +tourists--professional goers. They do the same things, and say the +same things, and if they could think, they'd think the same things +every place they go. And I don't want things arranged for my +convenience--so there!" + +Winthrop Adams Endicott lighted a cigarette, brushed some white dust +from his sleeve, and smiled. + +"If I were a man and loved a girl so very, very much I wouldn't just +sit around and grin. I'd do something!" + +"But, my dear Alice, what would you have me do? I'm not a knight +errant, nor a burglar, nor a pirate, nor a dark mysterious +oriental--I'm just a plain ordinary business man and----" + +"Well, I'd do something--even if it was something awful like getting +drunk or shooting somebody. Why, if you even had a past you wouldn't +be so hopeless. I could love a man with a past. It would show at +least, that he hadn't followed the line of the least resistance. The +world is full of canals--but there are only a few canyons. Look! I +believe we're stopping! Oh, I hope it's a hold-up! What will you do +if it is?" The train slowed to a standstill and Winthrop Adams +Endicott leaned out and gazed along the line of the coaches. + +"There is a little town here. Seems to be some commotion up +ahead--quite a crowd. If I can get this blamed gate open we can go up +and see what the trouble is." + +"And if you can't get it open you can climb over and lift me down. I'm +just dying to know what's the matter. And if you dare to say it +wouldn't be conventional I'll--I'll jump!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +WOLF RIVER + +A uniformed flagman, with his flag and a handful of torpedoes swung +from the platform and started up the track. + +"What's the trouble up in front?" asked the girl as Endicott assisted +her to the ground. + +"Cloud busted back in the mountains, an' washed out the trussle, an' +Second Seventy-six piled up in the river." + +"Oh, a wreck?" she exclaimed. "Will we have time to go up and see it?" + +"I'd say it's a wreck," grinned the trainman. "An' you've got all the +time you want. We're a-goin' to pull in on the sidin' an' let the +wrecker an' bridge crew at it. But even with 'em a-workin' from both +ends it'll be tomorrow sometime 'fore they c'n get them box cars drug +out an' a temp'ry trussle throw'd acrost." + +"What town is this?" + +"Town! Call it a town if you want to. It's Wolf River. It's a +shippin' point fer cattle, but it hain't no more a town 'n what the +crick's a river. The trussle that washed out crosses the crick just +above where it empties into Milk River. I've railroaded through here +goin' on three years an' I never seen no water in it to speak of +before, an' mostly it's plumb dry." + +The man sauntered slowly up the track as one who performs a merely +nominal duty, and the girl turned to follow Endicott. "It would have +been easier to walk through the train," he ventured, as he picked his +way over the rough track ballast. + +"Still seeking the line of least resistance," mocked the girl. "We can +walk through a train any time. But we can't breathe air like this, +and, see,--through that gap--the blue of the distant mountains!" + +The man removed his hat and dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief. +"It's awfully hot, and I have managed to secrete a considerable portion +of the railroad company's gravel in my shoes." + +"Don't mind a little thing like that," retorted the girl sweetly. +"I've peeled the toes of both of mine. They look like they had scarlet +fever." + +Passengers were alighting all along the train and hurrying forward to +join those who crowded the scene of the wreck. + +"It was a narrow escape for us," said Endicott as the two looked down +upon the mass of broken cars about which the rapidly falling waters of +the stream gurgled and swirled. "Had we not been running an hour late +this train would in all probability, have plunged through the trestle." + +"Was anybody hurt?" asked the girl. The train conductor nodded toward +the heap of debris. + +"No'm, the crew jumped. The fireman an' head brakeman broke a leg +apiece, an' the rest got bunged up a little; but they wasn't no one +hurt. + +"I was just tellin' these folks," he continued, "that they'll be a +train along on the other side in a couple of hours for to transfer the +passengers an' mail." + +The girl turned to Endicott. "There isn't much to see here," she said. +"Let's look around. It's such a funny little town. I want to buy +something at the store. And, there's a livery stable! Maybe we can +hire horses and ride out where we can get a view of the mountains." + +As the two turned toward the little cluster of frame buildings, a tall, +horse-faced man clambered onto the pilot of the passenger locomotive +and, removing his hat, proceeded to harangue the crowd. As they paused +to listen Alice stared in fascination at the enormous Adam's apple that +worked, piston-like above the neckband of the collarless shirt of vivid +checks. + +"Ladies an' gents," he began, with a comprehensive wave of the +soft-brimmed hat. "Wolf River welcomes you in our town. An' while +you're amongst us we aim to show you one an' all a good time. This +here desastorious wreck may turn out to be a blessin' in disguise. As +the Good Book says, it come at a most provincial time. Wolf River, +ladies an' gents, is celebratin', this afternoon an' evenin', a event +that marks an' epykak in our historious career: The openin' of the Wolf +River Citizen's Bank, a reg'lar bonyfido bank with vaults, cashier, an' +a board of directors consistin' of her leadinist citizens, with the +Honorable Mayor Maloney president, which I introdoose myself as. + +"In concludin' I repeet that this here is ondoubtfully the luckiest +wreck in the lives of any one of you, which it gives you a +unpressagented chanct to see with your own eyes a hustlin' Western town +that hain't ashamed to stand on her own legs an' lead the world along +the trail to prosperity. + +"Wolf River hain't a braggin' town, ladies an' gents, but I defy any +one of you to name another town that's got more adjacent an' contigitus +territory over which to grow onto. We freely admit they's a few +onconsequential improvements which is possessed by some bigger an' more +notorious cities such as sidewalks, sewers, street-gradin', an' lights +that we hain't got yet. But Wolf River is a day an' night town, ladies +an' gents, combinin' business with pleasure in just the right +perportion, which it's plain to anyone that takes the trouble to +investigate our shippin' corrals, four general stores, one _ho_tel, an' +seven saloons, all of which runs wide open twenty-four hours a day an' +is accommodated with faro, roulette, an' poker outfits fer the benefit +of them that's so inclined to back their judgment with a little money. + +"In concloodin' I'll say that owin' to the openin' of the bank about +which I was tellin' you of, Wolf River is holdin' the followin' +programme which it's free to everyone to enter into or to look on at. + +"They'll be a ropin' contest, in which some of our most notorious +ropers will rope, throw, an' hog-tie a steer, in the least shortness of +time. The prizes fer this here contest is: First prize, ten dollars, +doneated by the directors of the bank fer which's openin' this +celebration is held in honour of. Second prize, one pair of pants +doneated by the Montana Mercantile Company. Third prize, one quart of +bottle in bond whiskey doneated by our pop'lar townsman an' leadin' +citizen, Mr. Jake Grimshaw, proprietor of The Long Horn Saloon. + +"The next contest is a buckin' contest, in which some of our most +notorious riders will ride or get bucked offen some of our most fameous +outlaw horses. The prizes fer this here contest is: First, a pair of +angory chaps, doneated by the directors of the bank about which I have +spoke of before. Second prize, a pair of spurs doneated by the Wolf +River Tradin' Company. Third prize, a coffin that was ordered by Sam +Long's wife from the Valley Outfittin' Company, when Sam had the +apendiceetis of the stummick, an' fer which Sam refused to pay fer when +he got well contrary to expectations. + +"Both these here contests is open to ladies an' gents, both of which is +invited to enter. They will also be hoss racin', fancy an' trick +ridin', an' shootin', fer all of which sootable prizes has be'n +pervided, as well as fer the best lookin' man an' the homliest lady an' +vicy versy. Any lady or gent attendin' these here contests will be +gave out a ticket good fer one drink at any saloon in town. These +drinks is on the directors of the bank of which I have before referred +to. + +"An', ladies an' gents, in concloodin' I'll say that that hain't all! +Follerin' these here contests, after each an' every lady an' gent has +had time to git their drink they'll be a supper dished out at the +_ho_otel fer which the directors of the bank of which you have already +heard mention of has put up fifty cents a plate. This here supper is +as free as gratis to all who care to percipitate an' which will +incloode a speech by the Honorable Mayor Maloney, part of which I have +already spoke, but will repeat fer the benefit of them that hain't here. + +"Followin' the supper a dance will be pulled off in Curly Hardee's +dance-hall, the music fer which will be furnished by some of our most +notorious fiddlers incloodin' Mrs. Slim Maloney, wife of the Honorable +Mayor Maloney, who will lead the grand march, an' who I consider one of +the top pyanoists of Choteau County, if not in the hull United States. +It is a personal fact ladies an' gents, that I've heard her set down to +a pyano an' play _Old Black Joe_ so natural you'd swear it was _Home +Sweet Home_. An' when she gits het up to it, I'll promise she'll +loosen up an' tear off some of the liveliest music any one of you's +ever shook a leg to. + +"An' now, ladies an' gents, you can transfer an' go on when the train +pulls in on t'other side, or yon can stay an' enjoy yourselves amongst +us Wolf River folks an' go on tomorrow when the trussle gits fixed----" + +"Ye-e-e-e-o-o-w! W-h-e-e-e-e." + +Bang, bang, bang! Bang, bang, bang! A chorus of wild yells, a +fusillade of shots, and the thud of horses' hoofs close at hand drew +all eyes toward the group of riders that, spreading fan-like over the +flat that lay between the town and the railway, approached at top speed. + +"The cowboys is comin'! Them's the Circle J," cried the Mayor. +"Things'll lively up a bit when the T U an' the I X an' the Bear Paw +Pool boys gits in." The cowboys were close, now, and the laughing, +cheering passengers surged back as the horses swerved at full speed +with the stirrups of their riders almost brushing the outermost rank of +the crowd. A long thin rope shot out, a loop settled gently about the +shoulders of the Mayor of Wolf River, and a cowhorse stopped so +abruptly that a cloud of alkali dust spurted up and settled in a grey +powder over the clothing of the assembled passengers. + +"Come on, Slim, an' give these folks a chance to get their second wind +while you let a little licker into that system of yours." + +The Mayor grinned; "Tex Benton, hain't you had no bringin' up whatever? +That was a pretty throw but it's onrespectable, no mor'n what it's +respectable to call the Mayor of a place by his first name to a public +meetin'." + +"I plumb ferget myself, your Honour," laughed the cowpuncher as he +coiled his rope. "Fact is, I learnt to rope mares back in Texas, an' I +ain't----" + +"Yip-e-i-e!" + +"Ropin' mares!" The cowboys broke into a coyote chorus that drowned +the laughter of the crowd. + +"The drinks is on me!" sputtered the Mayor, when he was able to make +himself heard. "Jest you boys high-tail over to the Long Horn an' I'll +be along d'rectly." He turned once more to the crowd of passengers. + +"Come on, gents, an' have a drink on me. An' the ladies is welcome, +too. Wolf River is broad in her idees. We hain't got no sexual +restrictions, an' a lady's got as good a right to front a bar an' +nominate her licker as what a man has." + +Standing beside Endicott upon the edge of the crowd Alice Marcum had +enjoyed herself hugely. The little wooden town with its high fenced +cattle corrals, and its row of one story buildings that faced the +alkali flat had interested her from the first, and she had joined with +hearty goodwill in the rounds of applause that at frequent intervals +had interrupted the speech of the little town's Mayor. A born +horsewoman, she had watched with breathless admiration the onrush of +the loose-rein riders--the graceful swaying of their bodies, and the +flapping of soft hat brims, as their horses approached with a thunder +of pounding hoofs. Her eyes had sparkled at the reckless swerving of +the horses when it seemed that the next moment the back-surging crowd +would be trampled into the ground. She had wondered at the precision +with which the Texan's loop fell; and had joined heartily in the +laughter that greeted the ludicrous and red-faced indignation with +which a fat woman had crawled from beneath a coach whither she had +sought refuge from the onrush of thundering hoofs. + +In the mind of the girl, cowboys had always been associated with motion +picture theatres, where concourses of circus riders in impossible +regalia performed impossible feats of horsemanship in the unravelling +of impossible plots. She had never thought of them as real--or, if she +had, it was as a vanished race, like the Aztec and the buffalo. + +But here were real cowboys in the flesh: Open-throated, bronzed man, +free and unrestrained as the air they breathed--men whose very +appearance called to mind boundless open spaces, purple sage, blue +mountains, and herds of bellowing cattle. Here were men bound by no +petty and meaningless conventions--men the very sight of whom served to +stimulate and intensify the longing to see for herself the land beyond +the valley rims--to slip into a saddle and ride, and ride, and ride--to +feel the beat of the rain against her face, and the whip of the wind, +and the burning rays of the sun, and at night to lie under the winking +stars and listen to the howl of the coyotes. + +"Disgusting rowdies!" wheezed the fat woman as, dishevelled and +perspiring, she waddled toward the steps of her coach; while the Mayor, +his Adam's apple fairly pumping importance, led a sturdy band of +thirsters recruited from among the train passengers across the flat +toward a building over the door of which was fixed a pair of horns of +prodigious spread. Lest some pilgrim of erring judgment should mistake +the horns for short ones, or misapprehend the nature of the business +conducted within, the white false front of the building proclaimed in +letters of black a foot high: LONG HORN SALOON. While beneath the +legend was depicted a fat, vermilion clad cowboy mounted upon a +tarantula-bodied, ass-eared horse of pink, in the act of hurling a +cable-like rope which by some prodigy of dexterity was made to describe +three double-bows and a latigo knot before its loop managed to poise in +mid-air above the head of a rabbit-sized baby-blue steer whose horns +exceeded in length the pair of Texas monstrosities that graced the +doorway. + +"We're goin' to back onto the sidin' now," announced the conductor, +"where dinner will be served in the dinin' car as ushool." + +The cowboys had moved along to view the wreck and were grouped about +the broken end of the trestle where they lolled in their saddles, some +with a leg thrown carelessly about the horn and others lying back over +the cantle, while the horses which a few moments before had dashed +across the common at top speed now stood with lowered heads and +drooping ears, dreaming cayuse dreams. + +The engine bell was ringing monotonously and the whistle sounded three +short blasts, while the passengers clambered up the steps of the +coaches or backed away from the track. + +"Let's walk to the side track, it's only a little way." + +Alice pointed to where the flagman stood beside the open switch. +Endicott nodded acquiescence and as he turned to follow, the girl's +handkerchief dropped from her hand and, before it touched the ground, +was caught by a gust of wind that swept beneath the coaches and whirled +out onto the flat where it lay, a tiny square of white against the +trampled buffalo grass. + +Endicott started to retrieve it, but before he had taken a half-dozen +steps there was a swift pounding of hoofs and two horses shot out from +the group of cowboys and dashed at full speed, their riders low in the +saddle and each with his gaze fixed on the tiny bit of white fabric. +Nose and nose the horses ran, their hoofs raising a cloud of white +alkali dust in their wake. Suddenly, just as they reached the +handkerchief, the girl who watched with breathless interest gasped. +The saddles were empty! From the madly racing horses her glance flew +to the cloud of dust which concealed the spot where a moment before had +lain that little patch of white. Her fingers clenched as she steeled +herself to the sight of the two limp, twisted forms that the lifting +dust cloud must reveal. Scarcely daring to wink she fixed her eyes +upon the ground--but the dust cloud had drifted away and there were no +limp, twisted forms. Even the little square of white was gone. In +bewilderment she heard cries of approval and loud shouts of applause +from the passengers. Once more her ears caught the sound of pounding +hoofs, and circling toward her in a wide curve were the two riders, +erect and firm in their saddles, as a gauntleted hand held high a +fluttering scrap of white. + +The horses brought up directly before her, a Stetson was swept from a +thick shock of curly black hair, the gauntleted hand extended the +recalcitrant handkerchief, and she found herself blushing furiously for +no reason at all beneath the direct gaze of a pair of very black eyes +that looked out from a face tanned to the colour of old mahogany. + +"Oh, thank you! It was splendid--the horsemanship." She stammered. +"I've seen it in the movies, but I didn't know it was actually done in +real life." + +"Yes, mom, it is. It's owin' to the horse yeh've got, an' yer cinch. +Yeh'll see a heap better'n that this afternoon right on this here flat. +An' would yeh be layin' over fer the dance tonight, mom?" + +The abrupt question was even more disconcerting than the compelling +directness of his gaze. + +For an instant, the girl hesitated as her eyes swept from the +cowpuncher's face to the brilliant scarf loosely knotted about his +throat, the blue flannel shirt, the bright yellow angora chaps against +which the ivory butt of a revolver showed a splotch of white, and the +boots jammed into the broad wooden stirrups, to their high heels from +which protruded a pair of enormously rowelled spurs inlaid with silver. +By her side Endicott moved impatiently and cleared his throat. + +She answered without hesitation. "Yes, I think I shall." + +"I'd admire fer a dance with yeh, then," persisted the cowpuncher. + +"Why--certainly. That is, if I really decide to stay." + +"We'll try fer to show yeh a good time, mom. They'll be some right +lively fiddlin', an' she don't bust up till daylight." + +With a smile the girl glanced toward the other rider who sat with an +air of tolerant amusement. She recognized him as the man called +Tex--the one who had so deftly dropped his loop over the shoulders of +the Mayor, and noted that, in comparison with the other, he presented +rather a sorry appearance. The heels of his boots were slightly run +over. His spurs were of dingy steel and his leather chaps, laced up +the sides with rawhide thongs looked as though they had seen much +service. The scarf at his throat, however, was as vivid as his +companion's and something in the flash of the grey eyes that looked +into hers from beneath the broad brim of the Stetson caused an +inexplicable feeling of discomfort. Their gaze held a suspicion of +veiled mockery, and the clean cut lips twisted at their comers into the +semblance of a cynical, smiling sneer. + +"I want to thank you, too," she smiled, "it wasn't your fault your +friend----" + +"Jack Purdy's my name, mom," interrupted the other, importantly. + +"--that Mr. Purdy beat you, I am sure. And are you always as accurate +as when you lassoed the honourable Mayor of Wolf River?" + +"I always get what I go after--sometimes," answered the man meeting her +gaze with a flash of the baffling grey eyes. A subtle something, in +look or words, seemed a challenge. Instinctively she realized that +despite his rough exterior here was a man infinitely less crude than +the other. An ordinary cowpuncher, to all appearance, and +yet--something in the flash of the eyes, the downward curve of the +corners of the lips aroused the girl's interest. He was speaking again: + +"I'll dance with you, too--if you stay. But I won't mortgage none of +your time in advance." The man's glance shifted deliberately from the +girl to Endicott and back to the girl again. Then, without waiting for +her to reply, he whirled his horse and swung off at top speed to join +the other cowpunchers who were racing in the wake of the Mayor. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +PURDY + +Some moments later, Jack Purdy nosed his horse into the group of +cayuses that stood with reins hanging, "tied to the ground," in front +of the Long Horn Saloon. Beyond the open doors sounded a babel of +voices and he could see the men lined two deep before the bar. + +Swinging from the saddle he threw the stirrup over the seat and became +immediately absorbed in the readjustment of his latigo strap. Close +beside him Tex Benton's horse dozed with drooping head. Swiftly a hand +whose palm concealed an open jack-knife slipped beneath the Texan's +right stirrup-leather and a moment later was withdrawn as the cayuse, +suspicious of the fumbling on the wrong side of the saddle, snorted +nervously and sheered sharply against another horse which with an angry +squeal, a laying back of the ears, and a vicious snap of the teeth, +resented the intrusion. Purdy jerked sharply at the reins of his own +horse which caused that animal to rear back and pull away. + +"Whoa, there! Yeh imp of hell!" he rasped, in tones loud enough to +account for the commotion among the horses, and slipping the knife into +his pocket, entered the saloon from which he emerged unobserved while +the boisterous crowd was refilling its glasses at the solicitation of a +white goods drummer who had been among the first to accept the +invitation of the Mayor. + +Three doors up the street he entered a rival saloon where the bartender +was idly arranging his glasses on the back-bar in anticipation of the +inevitable rush of business which would descend upon him when the +spirit should move the crowd in the Long Horn to start "going the +rounds." + +"Hello, Cinnabar!" The cowpuncher leaned an elbow on the bar, elevated +a foot to the rail, and producing tobacco and a book of brown papers, +proceeded to roll a cigarette. The bartender returned the greeting and +shot the other a keen glance from the corner of his eye as he set out a +bottle and a couple of glasses. + +"Be'n down to the wreck?" he asked, with professional +disinterestedness. The cowpuncher nodded, lighted his cigarette, and +picking the bottle up by the neck, poured a few drops into his glass. +"Pretty bad pile-up," persisted the bartender as he measured out his +own drink. "Two or three of the train crew got busted up pretty bad. +They say---- + +"Aw, choke off! What the hell do I care what they say? Nor how bad +the train crew got busted up, nor how bad they didn't?" Purdy tapped +the bar with his glass as his black eyes fixed the other with a level +stare. "I came over fer a little talk with yeh, private. I'm a-goin' +to win that buckin' contest--an' yer goin' to help me--_sabe_?" + +The bartender shook his head: "I don't know how I c'n help you none." + +"Well yeh will know when I git through--same as Doc Godkins'll know +when I have a little talk with him. Yer both a-goin' to help, you an' +Doc. Yeh see, they was a nester's gal died, a year back, over on +Beaver Crick, an' Doc tended her. 'Tarford fever,' says Doc. But ol' +Lazy Y Freeman paid the freight, an' he thinks about as much of the +nesters as what he does of a rattlesnake. I was ridin' fer the Lazy Y +outfit, an' fer quite a spell 'fore this tarford fever business the ol' +man use to ride the barb wire along Beaver, reg'lar. Yeh know how +loose ol' Lazy Y is with his change? A dollar don't loom no bigger to +him than the side of Sugar Loaf Butte, an' it slips through his fingers +as easy as a porkypine could back out of a gunnysack. Well, that there +dose of tarford fever that the nester gal died of cost ol' Lazy Y jest +a even thousan' bucks. An' Doc Godkins got it." + +The cowpuncher paused and the bartender picked up his glass. "Drink +up," he said, "an' have another. I do'no what yer talkin' about but +it's jest as bad to not have enough red licker in under yer belt when +y' go to make a ride as 'tis to have too much." + +"Never yeh mind about the licker. I c'n reg'late my own drinks to suit +me. Mebbe I got more'n a ride a-comin' to me 'fore tonight's over." + +The bartender eyed him questioningly: "You usta win 'em all--buckin', +an' ropin', an'----" + +"Yes, I usta!" sneered the other. "An' I could now if it wasn't fer +that Texas son of a ----! Fer three years hand runnin' he's drug down +everything he's went into. He c'n out-rope me an' out-ride me, but he +can't out-guess me! An' some day he's goin' to have to out-shoot me. +I'm goin' to win the buckin' contest, an' the ropin', too. See?" The +man's fist pounded the bar. + +The bartender nodded; "Well, here's _to_ you." + +Once more Purdy fixed the man with his black-eyed stare. "Yes. But +they's a heap more a-comin' from you than a 'here's _to_ yeh.'" + +"Meanin'?" asked the other, as he mechanically swabbed the bar. + +"Meanin' that you an' Doc's goin' to help me do it. An' that hain't +all. Tonight 'long 'bout dance time I want that saddle horse o' yourn +an' yer sideways saddle, too. They's a gal o' mine come in on the +train, which she'll be wantin', mebbe, to take a ride, an' hain't +fetched no split-up clothes fer to straddle a real saddle. That +sideways contraption you sent fer 'fore yer gal got to ridin' man-ways +is the only one in Wolf River, an' likewise hern's the only horse +that'll stand fer bein' rigged up in it." + +"Sure. You're welcome to the horse an' saddle, Jack. The outfit's in +the livery barn. Jest tell Ross to have him saddled agin' you want +him. He's gentled down so's a woman c'n handle him all right." + +"Uh, huh. An' how about the other? Y'goin' to do as I say 'bout that, +too?" + +The bartender opened a box behind him and selected a cigar which he +lighted with extreme deliberation. "I told you onct I don't know what +yer talkin' about. Lazy Y Freeman an' Doc Godkins's dirty work ain't +none of my business. If you win, you win, an' that's all there is to +it." + +The cowpuncher laughed shortly, and his black eyes narrowed, as he +leaned closer. "Oh, that's all, is it? Well, Mr. Cinnabar Joe, let me +tell yeh that hain't all--by a damn sight!" He paused, but the other +never took his eyes from his face. "Do yeh know what chloral is?" The +man's voice lowered to a whisper and the words seemed to hiss from +between his lips. The other shook his head. "Well, it's somethin' yeh +slip into a man's licker that puts him to sleep." + +"You mean drug? Dope!" The bartender's eyes narrowed and the corner +of his mouth whitened where it gripped the cigar. + +Purdy nodded: "Yes. It don't hurt no one, only it puts 'em to sleep +fer mebbe it's three er four hours. I'll get some from Doc an' yer +goin' to slip a little into Tex Benton's booze. Then he jest nach'lly +dozes off an' the boys thinks he's spliflicated an' takes him down to +the hotel an' puts him to bed, an' before he wakes up I'll have the +buckin' contest, an' the ropin' contest, an' most of the rest of it in +my war-bag. I hain't afraid of none of the rest of the boys hornin' in +on the money--an' 'tain't the money I want neither; I want to win them +contests particular--an' I'm a-goin' to." + +Without removing his elbows from the bar, Cinnabar Joe nodded toward +the door: "You git to hell out o' here!" he said, quietly. "I don't +set in no game with you, see? I don't want none o' your chips. Of all +the God-damned low-lived----" + +"If I was you," broke in the cowpuncher with a meaning look, "I'd choke +off 'fore I'd got in too fer to back out." Something in the glint of +the black eyes caused the bartender to pause. Purdy laughed, tossed +the butt of his cigarette to the floor, and began irrelevantly: "It's +hell--jest hell with the knots an' bark left on--that Nevada wild horse +range is." The cowpuncher noted that Cinnabar Joe ceased suddenly to +puff his cigar. "It's about seven year, mebbe it's eight," he +continued, "that an outfit got the idee that mebbe Pete Barnum had the +wild horse business to hisself long enough. Four of 'em was pretty +rough hands, an' the Kid was headed that way. + +"Them that was there knows a heap more'n what I do about what they went +through 'fore they got out o' the desert where water-holes was about as +common as good Injuns. Anyways, this outfit didn't git no wild horses. +They was good an' damn glad to git out with what horses they'd took in, +an' a whole hide. They'd blow'd in all they had on their projec' an' +they was broke when they headed fer Idaho." The bartender's cigar had +gone out and the cowpuncher saw that his face was a shade paler. "Then +a train stopped sudden one evenin' where they wasn't no station, an' +after that the outfit busted up. But they wasn't broke no more, all +but the Kid. They left him shift fer hisself. Couple o' years later +two of the outfit drifted together in Cinnabar an' there they found the +Kid drivin' a dude-wagon. Drivin' a dude-wagon through the park is a +damn sight easier than huntin' wild horses, an' a damn sight safer than +railroadin' with a Colt, so when the two hard hands stops the Kid's +dude-wagon in the park, thinkin' they'd have a cinch goin' through the +Kid's passengers, they got fooled good an' proper when the Kid pumps +'em full of .45 pills. After that the Kid come to be know'd as +Cinnabar Joe, an' when the last of the dude-wagons was throw'd out fer +automobiles the Kid drifted up into the cow country. But they's a +certain express company that's still huntin' fer the gang--not knowin' +o' course that the Cinnabar Joe that got notorious fer defendin' his +dudes was one of 'em.'" + +The cowpuncher ceased speaking and produced his "makings" while the +other stood gazing straight before him, the dead cigar still gripped in +the corner of his mouth. The scratch of the match roused him and quick +as a flash he reached beneath the bar and the next instant had Purdy +covered with a six-shooter. With his finger on the trigger Cinnabar +Joe hesitated, and in that instant he learned that the man that faced +him across the bar was as brave as he was unscrupulous. The fingers +that twisted the little cylinder of paper never faltered and the black +eyes looked straight into the muzzle of the gun. + +Now, in the cow country the drawing of a gun is one and the same +movement with the firing of it, and why Cinnabar Joe hesitated he did +not know. + +Purdy laughed: "Put her down, Cinnabar. Yeh won't shoot, now. Yeh +see, I kind of figgered yeh might be sort o' riled up, so I left my gun +in my slicker. Shootin' a unarmed man don't git yeh nothin' but a +chanct to stretch a rope." + +The bartender returned the gun to its place. "Where'd you git that +dope, Jack?" he asked, in a dull voice. + +"Well, seein' as yeh hain't so blood-thirsty no more, I'll tell yeh. I +swung down into the bad lands couple weeks ago huntin' a bunch of mares +that strayed off the south slope. I was follerin' down a mud-crack +that opens into Big Dry when all to onct my horse jumps sideways an' +like to got me. The reason fer which was a feller layin' on the ground +where his horse had busted him agin' a rock. His back was broke an' he +was mumblin'; which he must of laid there a day, mebbe two, cause his +tongue an' lips was dried up till I couldn't hardly make out what he +was sayin'. I catched here an' there a word about holdin' up a train +an' he was mumblin' your name now an' agin so I fetched some water from +a hole a mile away an' camped. He et a little bacon later but he was +half crazy with the pain in his back. He'd yell when I walked near him +on the ground, said it jarred him, an' when I tried to move him a +little he fainted plumb away. But he come to agin an' begged me fer to +hand him his Colt that had lit about ten feet away so he could finish +the job. I seen they wasn't no use tryin' to git him nowheres. He was +all in. But his mutterin' had interested me consid'ble. I figgers if +he's a hold-up, chances is he's got a nice fat _cache_ hid away +somewheres, an' seein' he hain't never goin' to need it I might's well +have the handlin' of it as let it rot where it's at. I tells him so +an' agrees that if he tips off his _cache_ to me I'll retaliate by +givin' him the gun. He swears he ain't got no _cache_. He's blow'd +everything he had, his nerve's gone, an' he's headin' fer Wolf River +fer to gouge yeh out of some _dinero_. He claims yeh collected reward +on them two yeh got in the Yellowstone an' what's more the dudes tuk up +a collection of a thousan' bucks an' give it to yeh besides. _You_ was +his _cache_. So he handed me the dope I just sprung on yeh, an' he +says besides that you an' him's the only ones left. The other one got +his'n down in Mexico where he'd throw'd in with some Greaser bandits." + +"An' what---- Did you give him the gun?" asked the bartender. + +Purdy nodded: "Sure. He' done a good job, too. He was game, all +right, never whimpered nor hung back on the halter. Jest stuck the gun +in his mouth an' pulled the trigger. I was goin' to bury him but I +heard them mares whinner down to the water-hole so I left him fer the +buzzards an' the coyotes. + +"About that there chloral. I'll slip over an' git it from Doc. An' +say, I'm doin' the right thing by yeh. I could horn yeh fer a chunk o' +that reward money, but I won't do a friend that way. An' more'n that," +he paused and leaned closer. "I'll let you in on somethin' worth while +one of these days. That there thousan' that ol' Lazy Y paid Doc hain't +a patchin' to what he's goin' to fork over to me. See?" + +Cinnabar Joe nodded, slowly, as he mouthed his dead cigar, and when he +spoke it was more to himself than to Purdy. "I've played a square game +ever since that time back on the edge of the desert. I don't want to +have to do time fer that. It wouldn't be a square deal nohow, I was +only a Kid then an' never got a cent of the money. Then, there's +Jennie over to the hotel. We'd about decided that bartendin' an' +hash-slingin' wasn't gittin' us nowheres an' we was goin' to hitch up +an' turn nesters on a little yak outfit I've bought over on Eagle." He +stopped abruptly and looked the cowpuncher squarely in the eye. "If it +wasn't fer her, by God! I'd tell you jest as I did before, to git to +hell out of here an' do your damnedest. But it would bust her all up +if I had to do time fer a hold-up. You've got me where you want me, I +guess. But I don't want in on no dirty money from old Lazy Y, nor no +one else. You go it alone--it's your kind of a job. + +"This here chloride, or whatever you call it, you sure it won't kill a +man?" + +Purdy laughed: "Course it won't. It'll only put him to sleep till I've +had a chanct to win out. I'll git the stuff from Doc an' find out how +much is a dost, an' you kin' slip it in his booze." + +As the cowpuncher disappeared through the door, Cinnabar Joe's eyes +narrowed. "You damn skunk!" he muttered, biting viciously upon the +stump of his cigar. "If you was drinkin' anything I'd switch glasses +on _you_, an' then shoot it out with you when you come to. From now on +it's you or me. You've got your hooks into me an' this is only the +beginnin'." The man stopped abruptly and stared for a long time at the +stove-pipe hole in the opposite wall. Then, turning, he studied his +reflection in the mirror behind the bottles and glasses. He tossed +away his cigar, straightened his necktie, and surveyed himself from a +new angle. + +"This here Tex, now," he mused. "He sure is a rantankerous cuss when +he's lickered up. He'd jest as soon ride his horse through that door +as he would to walk through, an' he's always puttin' somethin' over on +someone. But he's a man. He'd go through hell an' high water fer a +friend. He was the only one of the whole outfit had the guts to tend +Jimmy Trimble when he got the spotted fever--nursed him back to good as +ever, too, after the Doc had him billed through fer yonder." Cinnabar +Joe turned and brought his fist down on the bar. "I'll do it!" he +gritted. "Purdy'll think Tex switched the drinks on me. Only I hope +he wasn't lyin' about that there stuff. Anyways, even if he was, it's +one of them things a man's got to do. An' I'll rest a whole lot easier +in my six by two than what I would if I give Tex the long good-bye +first." Unconsciously, the man began to croon the dismal wail of the +plains: + + + "O bury me not on the lone praire-e-e + In a narrow grave six foot by three, + Where the buzzard waits and the wind blows free, + Then bury me not on the lone praire-e-e. + + Yes, we buried him there on the lone praire-e-e + Where the owl all night hoots mournfulle-e-e + And the blizzard beats and the wind blows free + O'er his lonely grave on the lone praire-e-e. + + And the cowboys now as they roam the plain"---- + + +"Hey, choke off on that!" growled Purdy as he advanced with rattling +spurs. "Puts me in mind of _him_--back there in Big Dry. 'Spose I ort +to buried him, but it don't make no difference, now." He passed a +small phial across the bar. "Fifteen or twenty drops," he said +laconically, and laughed. "Nothin' like keepin' yer eyes an' ears +open. Doc kicked like a steer first, but he seen I had his hide hung +on the fence onless he loosened up. But he sure wouldn't weep none at +my demise. If ever I git sick I'll have some other Doc. I'd as soon +send fer a rattlesnake." The man glanced at the clock. "It's workin' +'long to'ards noon, I'll jest slip down to the Long Horn an' stampede +the bunch over here." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +CINNABAR JOE + +In the dining car of the side-tracked train Alice Marcum's glance +strayed from the face of her table companion to the window. Another +cavalcade of riders had swept into town and with a chorus of wild yells +the crowd in the Long Horn surged out to greet them. A moment later +the dismounted ones rushed to their horses, leaped into the saddles +and, joined by the newcomers, dashed at top speed for perhaps thirty +yards and dismounted to crowd into another saloon across whose front +the word HEADQUARTERS was emblazoned in letters of flaming red. + +"They're just like a lot of boys," exclaimed the girl with a smile, +"The idea of anybody mounting a horse to ride _that_ distance!" + +"They're a rough lot, I guess." Winthrop Adams Endicott studied his +menu card. + +"Rough! Of course they're rough! Why shouldn't they be rough? Think +of the work they do--rain or shine, riding out there on the plains. +When they get to town they've earned the right to play as they want to +play! I'd be rough, too, if I lived the life they live. And if I were +a man I'd be right over there with them this minute." + +"Why be a man?" smiled Endicott. "You have the Mayor's own word for +the breadth of Wolf River's ideas. As for myself, I don't drink and +wouldn't enjoy that sort of thing. Besides, if I were over there I +would have to forgo----" + +"No pretty little speeches, _please_. At least you can spare me that." + +"But, Alice, I mean it, really. And----" + +"Save 'em for the Cincinnati girls. They'll believe 'em. Who do you +think will win this afternoon. Let's bet! I'll bet you a--an umbrella +against a pair of gloves, that my cavalier of the yellow fur trousers +will win the bucking contest, and----" + +"Our train may pull out before the thing is over, and we would never +know who won." + +"Oh, yes we will, because we're going to stay for the finish. Why, I +wouldn't miss this afternoon's fun if forty trains pulled out!" + +"I ought to be in Chicago day after tomorrow," objected the man. + +"I ought to be, too. But I'm not going to be. For Heaven's sake, +Winthrop, for once in your life, do something you oughtn't to do!" + +"All right," laughed the man with a gesture of surrender. "And for the +rope throwing contest I'll pick the other." + +"What other?" The girl's eyes strayed past the little wooden buildings +of the town to the clean-cut rim of the bench. + +"Why the other who rode after your handkerchief. The fellow who +lassoed the honourable Mayor and was guilty of springing the pun." + +The girl nodded with her eyes still on the skyline. "Oh, yes. He +seemed--somehow--different. As if people amused him. As if everything +were a joke and he were the only one who knew it was a joke. I could +_hate_ a man like that. The other, Mr. Purdy, hates him." + +The man regarded her with an amused smile: "You keep a sort of mental +card index. I should like to have just a peep at my card." + +"Cards sometimes have to be rewritten--and sometimes it really isn't +worth while to fill them out again. Come on, let's go. People are +beginning to gather for the fun and I want a good seat. There's a +lumber pile over there that'll be just the place, if we hurry." + +In the Headquarters saloon Tex Benton leaned against the end of the bar +and listened to a Bear Paw Pool man relate how they took in a bunch of +pilgrims with a badger game down in Glasgow. Little knots of +cowpunchers stood about drinking at the bar or discussing the coming +celebration. + +"They've got a bunch of bad ones down in the corral," someone said. +"That ol' roman nose, an' the wall-eyed pinto, besides a lot of snorty +lookin' young broncs. I tell yeh if Tex draws either one of them ol' +outlaws it hain't no cinch he'll grab off this ride. The _hombre_ that +throws his kak on one of them is a-goin' to do a little sky-ballin' +'fore he hits the dirt, you bet. But jest the same I'm here to bet ten +to eight on him before the drawin'." + +Purdy who had joined the next group turned at the words. + +"I'll jest take that," he snapped. "Because Tex has drug down the last +two buckin' contests hain't no sign he c'n go south with 'em all." At +the end of the bar Tex grinned as he saw Purdy produce a roll of bills. + +"An', by gosh!" the Bear Paw Pool man was saying, "when they'd all got +their money down an' the bull dog was a-clawin' the floor to git at the +badger, an' the pilgrims was crowded around with their eyes a-bungin' +out of their heads, ol' Two Dot Wilson, he shoves the barrel over an' +they wasn't a doggone thing in under it but a----" + +"What yeh goin' to have, youse?" Purdy had caught sight of Tex who +stood between the Bear Paw Pool man and Bat Lajune. "I'm bettin' agin' +yeh winnin' the buckin' contest, but I'll buy yeh a drink." + +Tex grinned as his eyes travelled with slow insolence over the other's +outfit. + +"You're sure got up some colourful, Jack," he drawled. "If you sh'd +happen to crawl up into the middle of one of them real outlaws they got +down in the corral, an' quit him on the top end of a high one, you're +a-goin' to look like a rainbow before you git back." + +The other scowled: "I guess if I tie onto one of them outlaws yeh'll +see me climb off 'bout the time the money's ready. Yeh Texas fellers +comes up here an' makes yer brag about showin' us Montana boys how to +ride our own horses. But it's real money talks! I don't notice you +backin' up yer brag with no real _dinero_." + +Tex was still smiling. "That's because I ain't found anyone damn fool +enough to bet agin' me." + +"Didn't I jest tell yeh I was bettin' agin' you?" + +"Don't bet enough to hurt you none. How much you got, three dollars? +An' how much odds you got to get before you'll risk 'em?" + +Purdy reached for his hip pocket. "Jest to show yeh what I think of +yer ridin' I'll bet yeh even yeh don't win." + +"Well," drawled the Texan, "seein' as they won't be only about ten +fellows ride, that makes the odds somewhere around ten to one, which is +about right. How much you want to bet?" + +With his fingers clutching his roll of bills, Purdy's eyes sought the +face of Cinnabar Joe. For an instant he hesitated and then slammed the +roll onto the bar. + +"She goes as she lays. Count it!" + +The bartender picked up the money and ran it through. "Eighty-five," +he announced, laconically. + +"That's more'n I got on me," said Tex ruefully, as he smoothed out +three or four crumpled bills and capped the pile with a gold piece. + +Purdy sneered: "It's money talks," he repeated truculently. "'Tain't +hardly worth while foolin' with no piker bets but if that's the best +yeh c'n do I'll drag down to it." He reached for his roll. + +"Hold on!" The Texan was still smiling but there was a hard note in his +voice. "She goes as she lays." He turned to the half-breed who stood +close at his elbow. + +"Bat. D'you recollect one night back in Las Vegas them four bits I +loant you? Well, just you shell out about forty dollars interest on +them four bits an' we'll call it square for a while." The half-breed +smiled broadly and handed over his roll. + +"Forty-five, fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty--" counted Tex, and with a +five-dollar bill between his thumb and forefinger, eyed Purdy +condescendingly: "I'm a-goin' to let you drag down that five if you +want to," he said, "'cause you've sure kissed good-bye to the rest of +it. They ain't any of your doggoned Montana school-ma'm-cayuses but +what I c'n ride slick-heeled, an' with my spurs on--" he paused; +"better drag down the five. You might need a little loose change if +that girl should happen to get thirsty between dances." + +"Jest leave it lay," retorted Purdy; "an' at that, I'll bet I buy her +more drinks than what you do." + +Tex laughed: "Sure. But there ain't nothin' in buyin' 'em drinks. +I've bought 'em drinks all night an' then some other _hombre_'d step in +an'----" + +"I'd bet yeh on _that_, too. I didn't notice her fallin' no hell of a +ways fer you." + +"Mebbe not. I wasn't noticin' her much. I was kind of studyin' the +pilgrim that was along with her." + +"What's he got to do with it?" + +"That's what I was tryin' to figger out. But, hey, Cinnabar, how about +that drink? I'm dry as a post-hole." + +"Fill 'em up, Cinnabar. I'm makin' this noise," seconded Purdy. And +as the Texan turned to greet an acquaintance, he caught out of the tail +of his eye the glance that flashed between Purdy and the bartender. +Noticed, also out of the tail of his eye, that, contrary to custom, +Cinnabar filled the glasses himself and that a few drops of colourless +liquid splashed from the man's palm into the liquor that was shoved +toward him. The Texan knew that Purdy had watched the operation +interestedly and that he straightened with an audible sigh of relief at +its conclusion. "Come on, drink up!" Purdy raised his glass as Tex +faced the bar with narrowed eyes. + +"What's them fellows up to?" cried Cinnabar Joe, and as Purdy turned, +glass in hand, to follow his glance Tex saw the bartender swiftly +substitute his own glass for the one into which he had dropped the +liquid. + +The next instant Purdy was again facing him. "What fellers?" he asked +sharply. + +Cinnabar Joe laughed: "Oh, that Bear Paw Pool bunch. Fellow's got to +keep his eye peeled whenever they git their heads together. Here's +luck." + +For only an instant did Tex hesitate while his brain worked rapidly. +"There's somethin' bein' pulled off here," he reasoned, "that I ain't +next to. If that booze was doped why did Cinnabar drink it? Anyways, +he pulled that stall on Purdy fer some reason an' it's up to me to see +him through with it. But if I do git doped it won't kill me an' when I +come alive they's a couple of fellows goin' to have to ride like hell +to keep ahead of me." + +He drank the liquor and as he returned the glass to the bar he noted +the glance of satisfaction that flashed into Purdy's eyes. + +"Come on, boys, let's git things a-goin'!" Mayor Maloney stood in the +doorway and beamed good humouredly: "'Tain't every cowtown's got a bank +an' us Wolf Riverites has got to do ourself proud. Every rancher an' +nester in forty mile around has drove in. The flat's rimmed with +wagons an' them train folks is cocked up on the lumber piles +a-chickerin' like a prairie-dog town. We'll pull off the racin' an' +trick ridin' an' shootin' first an' save the ropin' an' buckin' +contests to finish off on. Come on, you've all had enough to drink. +Jump on your horses an' ride out on the flat like hell was tore loose +fer recess. Then when I denounce what's a-comin', them that's goin' to +complete goes at it, an' the rest pulls off to one side an' looks on +'til their turn comes." + +A six-shooter roared and a bullet crashed into the ceiling. + +"Git out of the way we're a-goin' by!" howled someone, and instantly +the chorus drowned the rattle of spurs and the clatter of high-heeled +boots as the men crowded to the door. + + "Cowboys out on a yip ti yi! + Coyotes howl and night birds cry + And we'll be cowboys 'til we die!" + +Out in the street horses snorted and whirled against each other, spurs +rattled, and leather creaked as the men leaped into their saddles. +With a thunder of hoofs, a whirl of white dust, the slapping of quirts +and ropes against horses' flanks, the wicked bark of forty-fives, and a +series of Comanche-like yells the cowboys dashed out onto the flat. +Once more Tex Benton found himself drawn up side by side with Jack +Purdy before the girl, for whose handkerchief they had raced. Both +waved their hats, and Alice smiled as she waved her handkerchief in +return. + +"Looks like I was settin' back with an ace in the hole, so far," +muttered Tex, audibly. + +Purdy scowled: "Ace in the hole's all right _sometimes_. But it's the +lad that trails along with a pair of deuces back to back that comes up +with the chips, cashin' in time." + +Slim Maloney announced a quarter-mile dash and when Purdy lined up with +the starters, Tex quietly eased his horse between two wagons, and, +slipping around behind the lumber-piles, rode back to the Headquarters +Saloon. The place was deserted and in a chair beside a card table, +with his head buried in his arms, sat Cinnabar Joe, asleep. The +cowpuncher crossed the room and shook him roughly by the shoulder: + +"Hey, Joe--wake up!" + +The man rolled uneasily and his eyelids drew heavily apart. He mumbled +incoherently. + +"Wake up, Joe!" The Texan redoubled his efforts but the other relapsed +into a stupor from which it was impossible to rouse him. + +A man hurrying past in the direction of the flats paused for a moment +to peer into the open door. Tex glanced up as he hurried on. + +"Doc!" There was no response and the cowpuncher crossed to the door at +a bound. The street was deserted, and without an instant's hesitation +he dashed into the livery and feed barn next door whose wide aperture +yawned deserted save for the switching of tails and the stamping of +horses' feet in the stalls. The door of the harness room stood +slightly ajar and Tex jerked it open and entered. Harness and saddles +littered the floor and depended from long wooden pegs set into the wall +while upon racks hung sweatpads and saddle blankets of every known kind +and description. Between the floor and the lower edge of the blankets +that occupied a rack at the farther side of the room a pair of black +leather shoes showed. + +"Come on, Doc, let's go get a drink." The shoes remained motionless. +"Gosh! There's a rat over in under them blankets!" A forty-five +hammer was drawn back with a sharp click. The shoes left the floor +simultaneously and the head and shoulders of a man appeared above the +rack. + +"Eh! Was someone calling me?" + +"Yeh, I was speakin' of rats----" + +"My hearing's getting bad. I was fishing around for my saddle blanket. +Those barn dogs never put anything where it belongs." + +"That's right. I said let's go get a drink. C'n you hear that?" Tex +noted that the man's face was white and that he was eyeing him +intently, as he approached through the litter. + +"Just had one, thanks. Was on my way down to the flats to see the fun, +and thought I'd see if my blanket had dried out all right." + +"Yes? Didn't you hear me when I hollered at you in the saloon a minute +ago?" + +"No. Didn't know any one was in there." + +"You're in a hell of a fix with your eyesight an' hearin' all shot to +pieces, ain't you? But I reckon they're goin' to be the best part of +you if you don't come along with me. Cinnabar Joe's be'n doped." + +"_Cinnabar Joe_!" The doctor's surprise was genuine. + +"Yes. Cinnabar Joe. An' you better get on the job an' bring him to, +or they'll be tossin' dry ones in on top of you about tomorrow. Sold +any drugs that w'd do a man that way, lately?" + +The doctor knitted his brow. "Why let's see. I don't remember----" + +"Your mem'ry ain't no better'n what your eyesight an' hearin' is, is +it? I reckon mebbe a little jolt might get it to workin'." As Tex +talked even on, his fist shot out and landed squarely upon the other's +nose and the doctor found himself stretched at full length among the +saddles and odds and ends of harness. Blood gushed from his nose and +flowed in a broad wet stream across his cheek. He struggled weakly to +his feet and interposed a shaking arm. + +"I didn't do anything to you," he whimpered. + +"No. I'm the one that's doin'. Is your parts workin' better? 'Cause +if they ain't----" + +"What do you want to know? I'll tell you!" The man spoke hurriedly as +he cringed from the doubling fist. + +"I know you sold the dope, 'cause when I told you about Cinnabar you +wasn't none surprised at the dope--but at who'd got it. You sold it to +Jack Purdy an' you knew he aimed to give it to me. What's more, your +eyesight an' hearin' is as good as mine. You seen me an' heard me in +the saloon an' you was scairt an' run an' hid in the harness room. +You're a coward, an' a crook, an' a damn liar! Wolf River don't need +you no more. You're a-comin' along with me an' fix Cinnabar up an' +then you're a-goin' to go down to the depot an' pick you out a train +that don't make no local stops an' climb onto it an' ride 'til you get +where the buffalo grass don't grow. That is, onless Cinnabar should +happen to cash in. If he does----" + +"He won't! He won't! It's only chloral. A little strychnine will fix +him up." + +"Better get busy then. 'Cause if he ain't to in an hour or so you're +a-goin' to flutter on the down end of a tight one. These here +cross-arms on the railroad's telegraph poles is good an' stout an' has +the added advantage of affordin' good observation for all, which if you +use a cottonwood there's always some that can't see good on account of +limbs an' branches bein' in the road----" + +"Come over to the office 'til I get what I need and I'll bring him +around all right!" broke in the doctor and hurried away, with the +cowpuncher close at his heels. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +ON THE FLAT + +As Mayor Maloney had said, every rancher and nester within forty miles +of Wolf River had driven into town for the celebration. Farm wagons, +spring wagons, and automobiles were drawn wheel to wheel upon both +sides of the flat. From the vehicles women and children in holiday +attire applauded the feats of the cowboys with cheers and the waving of +handkerchiefs, while the men stood about in groups and watched with +apparent indifference as they talked of fences and flumes. + +From the top of the lumber piles, and the long low roof of the wool +warehouse, the train passengers entered into the spirit of the fun +gasping in horror at some seemingly miraculous escape from death +beneath the pounding hoofs of the cow-horses, only to cheer themselves +hoarse when they saw that the apparent misadventure had been purposely +staged for their benefit. + +Races were won by noses. Hats, handkerchiefs, and even coins were +snatched from the ground by riders who hung head and shoulder below +their horses' bellies. Mounts were exchanged at full gallop. Playing +cards were pierced by the bullets of riders who dashed past them at +full speed. And men emptied their guns in the space of seconds without +missing a shot. + +In each event the gaudily caparisoned Jack Purdy was at the fore, +either winning or crowding the winner to his supremest effort. And it +was Purdy who furnished the real thrill of the shooting tournament +when, with a six-shooter in each hand, he jumped an empty tomato can +into the air at fifteen paces by sending a bullet into the ground +beneath its base and pierced it with a bullet from each gun before it +returned to earth. + +A half-dozen times he managed to slip over for a few words with Alice +Marcum--a bit of explanation of a coming event, or a comment upon the +fine points of a completed one, until unconsciously the girl's interest +centred upon the dashing figure to an extent that she found herself +following his every movement, straining forward when his supremacy hung +in the balance, keenly disappointed when another wrested the honours +from him, and jubilantly exultant at his victories. So engrossed was +she in fallowing the fortunes of her knight that she failed to notice +the growing disapproval of Endicott, who sat frowning and silent by her +side. Failed, also, to notice that as Purdy's attentions waxed more +obvious she herself became the object of many a glance, and lip to ear +observation from the occupants of the close-drawn vehicles. + +It was while Mayor Maloney was announcing the roping contest and +explaining that the man who "roped, throw'd, an' hog-tied" his steer in +the least number of seconds, would be the winner, that the girl's +thoughts turned to the cowpuncher who earlier in the day had so +skilfully demonstrated his ability with the lariat. + +In vain her eyes sought the faces of the cowboys. She turned to Purdy +who had edged his horse close beside the lumber pile. + +"Where is your friend--the one who raced with you for my handkerchief?" +she asked. "I haven't seen him since you both rode up in that first +wild rush. He hasn't been in any of the contests." + +"No, mom," answered the cowpuncher, in tones of well-simulated regret; +"he's--he's prob'ly over to some saloon. He's a good man some ways, +Tex is. But he can't keep off the booze." + +Kicking his feet from the stirrups the man stood upright in his saddle +and peered over the top of an intervening pile of lumber. "Yes, I +thought so. His horse is over in front of the Headquarters. Him an' +Cinnabar Joe's prob'ly holdin' a booze histin' contest of their own." +Slipping easily into his seat, he unfastened the rope from his saddle, +and began slowly to uncoil it. + +"All ready!" called the Mayor. "_Go git him_!" + +A huge black steer dashed out into the open with a cowboy in full +pursuit, his loop swinging slowly above his head. Down the middle of +the flat they tore, the loop whirling faster as the horseman gained on +his quarry. Suddenly the rope shot out, a cloud of white dust rose +into the air as the cow-horse stopped in his tracks, a moment of +suspense, and the black steer dashed frantically about seeking an +avenue of escape while in his wake trailed the rope like a long thin +snake with its fangs fastened upon the frantic brute's neck. A roar of +laughter went up from the crowd and Purdy turned to the girl. "Made a +bad throw an' got him around the neck," he explained. "When you git +'em that way you got to turn 'em loose or they'll drag you all over the +flat. A nine-hundred-pound horse hain't got no show ag'in a +fifteen-hundred-pound steer with the rope on his neck. An' even if the +horse would hold, the cinch wouldn't, so _he's_ out of it." + +The black steer was rounded up and chased from the arena, and once more +Mayor Maloney, watch in hand, cried "_Go git him_!" + +Another steer dashed out and another cowboy with whirling loop +thundered after him. The rope fell across the animal's shoulders and +the loop swung under. The horse stopped, and the steer, his fore legs +jerked from under him, fell heavily. To make his rope fast to the +saddle-horn and slip to the ground leaving the horse to fight it out +with the captive, was the work of a moment for the cowboy who +approached the struggling animal, short rope in hand. Purdy who was +leaning over his saddle-horn, watching the man's every move, gave a cry +of relief. + +"He's up behind! That'll fix your clock!" Sure enough, the struggling +animal had succeeded in regaining his hind legs and while the horse, +with the cunning of long practice, kept his rope taut, the steer +plunged about to such good purpose that precious seconds passed before +the cowboy succeeded in making his tie-rope fast to a hind foot, +jerking it from under the struggling animal, and securing it to the +opposite fore foot. + +"Three minutes an' forty-three seconds!" announced the Mayor. "Git +ready for the next one. . . . _Go git him_!" + +This time the feat was accomplished in a little over two minutes and +the successful cowboy was greeted with a round of applause. Several +others missed their throws or got into difficulty, and Purdy turned to +the girl: + +"If I got any luck at all I'd ort to grab off this here contest. They +hain't be'n no fancy ropin' done yet. If I c'n hind-leg mine they +won't be nothin' to it." He rode swiftly away and a moment later, to +the Mayor's "_Go git him_!" dashed out after a red and white steer that +plunged down the field with head down and tail lashing the air. Purdy +crowded his quarry closer than had any of the others and with a swift +sweep of his loop enmeshed the two hind legs of the steer. The next +moment the animal was down and the cowpuncher had a hind foot fast in +the tie rope, Several seconds passed as the man fought for a fore +foot--seconds which to the breathlessly watching girl seemed hours. +Suddenly he sprang erect. "One minute an' forty-nine seconds!" +announced the Mayor and the crowd cheered wildly. + +Upon the lumber pile Alice Marcum ceased her handclapping as her eyes +met those of a cowboy who had ridden up unobserved and sat his horse at +almost the exact spot that had, a few moments before, been occupied by +Purdy. She was conscious of a start of surprise. The man sat easily +in his saddle, and his eyes held an amused smile. Once more the girl +found herself resenting the smile that drew down the corner of the thin +lips and managed to convey an amused tolerance or contempt on the part +of its owner toward everything and everyone that came within its radius. + +"If they hain't no one else wants to try their hand," began the Mayor, +when the Texan interrupted him: + +"Reckon I'll take a shot at it if you've got a steer handy." + +"Well, dog my cats! If I hadn't forgot you! Where you be'n at? If +you'd of got here on time you'd of stood a show gittin' one of them +steers that's be'n draw'd. You hain't got no show now 'cause the +onliest one left is a old long-geared roan renegade that's on the +prod----" + +Tex yawned: "Jest you tell 'em to run him in, Slim, an' I'll show you +how we-all bust 'em wide open down in Texas." + +Three or four cowpunchers started for the corral with a whoop and a few +minutes later the men who had been standing about in groups began to +clamber into wagons or seek refuge behind the wheels as the lean roan +steer shot out onto the flat bounding this way and that, the very +embodiment of wild-eyed fury. But before he had gone twenty yards +there was a thunder of hoofs in his wake and a cow-horse, his rider +motionless as a stone image in his saddle, closed up the distance until +he was running almost against the flank of the frenzied renegade. +There was no preliminary whirling of rope. The man rode with his eyes +fixed on the flying hind hoofs while a thin loop swung from his right +hand, extended low and a little back. + +Suddenly--so suddenly that the crowd was still wondering why the man +didn't swing his rope, there was a blur of white dust, a brown streak +as the cow-horse shot across the forefront of the big steer, the thud +of a heavy body on the ground, the glimpse of a man-among the thrashing +hoofs, and then a mighty heaving as the huge steer strained against the +rope that bound his feet, while the cowboy shoved the Stetson to the +back of his head and felt for his tobacco and papers. + +"Gosh sakes!" yelled Mayor Maloney excitedly as he stared at the watch +in his hand. "Fifty-seven seconds! They can't beat that down to +Cheyenne!" + +At the words, a mighty cheer went up from the crowd and everybody was +talking at once. While over beside the big steer the cowboy mounted +his pony and coiling his rope as he rode, joined the group of riders +who lounged in their saddles and grinned their appreciation. + +"Ladies an' gents," began the Mayor, "you have jest witnessed a ropin' +contest the winner of which is Tex Benton to beat who McLaughlin +himself would have to do his da--doggondest! We will now conclood the +afternoon's galaxity of spurious stars, as the circus bills says, with +a buckin' contest which unneedless to say will conclood the afternoon's +celebration of the openin' of a institoot that it's a credit to any +town in reference to which I mean the Wolf River Citizen's Bank in +which we invite to whose vaults a fair share of your patrimony. While +the boys is gittin' ready an' drawin' their horses a couple of gents +will pass amongst you an' give out to one an' all, ladies an' gents +alike, an' no favorytes played, a ticket good fer a free drink in any +saloon in Wolf River on the directors of the bank I have endeavoured to +explain about which. After which they'll be a free feed at the _ho_tel +also on the directors. Owin' to the amount of folks on hand this here +will be pulled off in relays, ladies furst, as they hain't room fer all +to onct, but Hank, here, claims he's got grub enough on hand so all +will git a chanct to shove right out ag'in their belt. An' I might say +right here in doo elegy of our feller townsman that Hank c'n set out as +fillin' an' tasty a meal of vittles as anyone ever cocked a lip over, +barrin', of course, every married man's wife. + +"Draw your horses, boys, an' git a-goin'!" + +Alice Marcum's surprise at Tex Benton's remarkable feat, after what +Purdy had told her, was nothing to the surprise and rage of Purdy +himself who had sat like an image throughout the performance. When the +Mayor began his oration Purdy's eyes flashed rapidly over the crowd and +seeing that neither Cinnabar Joe nor the doctor were present, slipped +his horse around the end of the lumber pile and dashed for the doctor's +office. "That damn Doc'll wisht he hadn't never double-crossed me!" he +growled, as he swung from the saddle before the horse had come to a +stop. The office was empty and the man turned to the Headquarters +saloon. Inside were the two men he sought, and he approached them with +a snarl. + +"What the hell did yeh double-cross me for?" he shouted in a fury. + +The doctor pointed to Cinnabar Joe who, still dazed from the effect of +the drug, leaned upon the table. "I didn't double-cross you. The +wrong man got the dope, that's all." + +Cinnabar Joe regarded Purdy dully. "He switched glasses," he muttered +thickly. + +A swift look of fear flashed into Purdy's eyes. "How'n hell did he +know we fixed his licker?" he cried, for well he realized that if the +Texan had switched glasses he was cognizant of the attempt to dope him. +Moistening his lips with his tongue, the cowpuncher turned abruptly on +his heel. "Guess I'll be gittin' back where they's a lot of folks +around," he muttered as he mounted his horse. "I got to try an' figger +out if he knows it was me got Cinnabar to dope his booze. An' if he +does--" The man's face turned just a shade paler beneath the tan---- +"I got to lay off this here buckin' contest. I hain't got the guts to +tackle it." + +"Have you drawn your horse?" he had reached the lumber pile and the +girl was smiling down at him. He shook his head dolefully. + +"No, mom, I hain't a-goin' to ride. I spraint my shoulder ropin' that +steer an' I just be'n over to see doc an' he says I should keep offen +bad horses fer a spell. It's sure tough luck, too, 'cause I c'd of won +if I c'd of rode. But I s'pose I'd ort to be satisfied, I drug down +most of the other money--all but the ropin', an' I'd of had that if it +hadn't of be'n fer Tex Benton's luck. An' he'll win ag'in, chances +is--if his cinch holds. Here he comes now; him an' that breed. They +hain't never no more'n a rope's len'th apart. Tex must have somethin' +on him the way he dogs him around." + +The girl followed his glance to the Texan who approached accompanied by +Bat Lajune and a cowboy who led from the horn of his saddle a +blaze-faced bay with a roman nose. As the three drew nearer the girl +could see the mocking smile upon his lips as his eyes rested for a +moment on Purdy. "I don't like that man," she said, as though speaking +to herself, "and yet----" + +"Plenty others don't like him, too," growled Purdy. "I'm glad he's +draw'd that roman nose, 'cause he's the out-buckin'est outlaw that ever +grow'd hair--him an' that pinto, yonder, that's hangin' back on the +rope." + +The Texan drew up directly in front of the lumber pile and ignoring +Purdy entirely, raised his Stetson to the girl. The direct cutting of +Purdy had been obviously rude and Alice Marcum felt an increasing +dislike for the man. She returned his greeting with a perfunctory nod +and instantly felt her face grow hot with anger. The Texan was +laughing at her--was regarding her with an amused smile. + +A yell went up from the crowd and out on the flat beyond the Texan, a +horse, head down and back humped like an angry cat, was leaping into +the air and striking the ground stiff-legged in a vain effort to shake +the rider from his back. + +"'Bout as lively as a mud turtle. He'll sulk in a minute," laughed the +Texan, and true to the prophecy, the horse ceased his efforts and stood +with legs wide apart and nose to the ground. + +"Whoopee!" + +"He's a ringtailed woozoo!" + +"Thumb him!" + +"Scratch him!" + +The crowd laughed and advised, and the cowboy thumbed and scratched, +but the broncho's only sign of animation was a vicious switching of the +tail. + +"Next horse!" cried the Mayor, and a horse shot out, leaving the ground +before the rider was in the saddle. Straight across the flat he bucked +with the cowboy whipping higher and higher in the saddle as he tried in +vain to catch his right stirrup. + +"He's a goner!" + +"He's clawin' leather!" + +To save himself a fall the rider had grabbed the horn of the saddle, +and for him the contest was over. + +"Come on, Bat, we'll throw the shell on this old buzzard-head. I'm +number seven an' there's three down!" called the Texan. + +The two swung from the saddles and the roman-nosed outlaw pricked his +ears and set against the rope with fore legs braced. The cowboy who +had him in tow took an extra dally around the saddle horn as the Texan, +hackamore in hand, felt his way inch by inch along the taut lead-rope. +As the man's hand touched his nose the outlaw shuddered and braced back +until only the whites of his eyes showed. Up came the hand and the +rawhide hackamore slipped slowly into place. + +"He's a-goin' to ride with a hackamore!" cried someone as the Texan +busied himself with the knots. Suddenly the lead-rope slackened and +with a snort of fury the outlaw reared and lashed out with both +forefeet. The Texan stepped swiftly aside and as the horse's feet +struck the ground the loaded end of a rawhide quirt smashed against his +jaw. + +Bat Lajune removed the saddle from the Texan's horse and stepped +forward with the thick felt pad which Tex, with a hand in the +cheek-strap of the hackamore, brushed along the outlaw's sides a few +times and then deftly threw over the animal's back. The horse, braced +against the rope, stood trembling in every muscle while Bat brought +forward the saddle with the right stirrup-leather and cinch thrown back +over the seat. As he was about to hand it to the Texan he stopped +suddenly and examined the cinch. Then without a word carried it back, +unsaddled his own horse, and taking the cinch from his saddle exchanged +it for the other. + +"Just as easy to switch cinches as it is drinks, ain't it, Bat?" +grinned Tex. + +"Ba Goss! Heem look lak' Circle J boun' for be wan man short," replied +the half-breed, and the girl, upon whom not a word nor a move had been +lost, noticed that Purdy's jaw tightened as the Texan laughed at the +apparently irrelevant remark. + +The outlaw shuddered as the heavy saddle was thrown upon his back and +the cinch ring deftly caught with a loop of rope and made fast. + +Out on the flat number four, on the pinto outlaw, had hit the dirt, +number five had ridden through on a dead one, and number six had quit +his in mid-air. + +"Next horse--number seven!" called the Mayor. The cowboy who had the +broncho in tow headed out on the flat prepared to throw off his dallies +and two others, including Purdy, rode forward quirt in hand, to haze +the hate-blinded outlaw from crashing into the wagons. With his hand +gripping the cheek-strap, Tex turned and looked straight into Purdy's +eyes. + +"Go crawl under a wagon an' chaw a bone," he said in a low even voice, +"I'll whistle when I want _you_." For an instant the men's glances +locked, while the onlookers held their breath. Purdy was not a +physical coward. The insult was direct, uttered distinctly, and in the +hearing of a crowd. At his hip was the six-gun with which he had just +won a shooting contest--yet he did not draw. The silence was becoming +painful when the man shrugged, and without a word, turned his horse +away. Someone laughed, and the tension broke with a hum of low-voiced +conversation. + +"Next horse, ready!" + +As the crowd drew back Alice Marcum leaned close to Purdy's ear. + +"I think it was splendid!" she whispered; "it was the bravest thing I +ever saw." The man could scarcely believe his ears. + +"Is she kiddin' me?" he wondered, as he forced his glance to the girl's +face. But no, she was in earnest, and in her eyes the man read +undisguised admiration. She was speaking again. + +"Any one of these," she indicated the crowd with a sweep of her gloved +hand, "would have shot him, but it takes a real man to preserve perfect +self-control under insult." + +The cowpuncher drew a long breath. "Yes; mom," he answered; "it was +pretty tough to swaller that. But somehow I kind of--of hated to shoot +him." Inwardly he was puzzled. What did the girl mean? He realized +that she was in earnest and that he had suddenly become a hero in her +eyes. Fate was playing strangely into his hands. A glitter of triumph +flashed into his eyes, a glitter that faded into a look of wistfulness +as they raised once more to hers. + +"Would you go to the dance with me tonight, mom? These others--they +don't git me right. They'll think I didn't dast to shoot it out with +him." + +The girl hesitated, and the cowpuncher continued. "The transfer +train's pulled out an' the trussle won't be fixed 'til mornin', you +might's well take in the dance." + +Beside her Endicott moved uneasily. "Certainly not!" he exclaimed +curtly as his eyes met Purdy's. And then, to the girl, "If you are +bound to attend that performance you can go with me." + +"Oh, I can go with you, can I?" asked the girl sweetly. "Well thank +you so much, Winthrop, but really you will have to excuse me. Mr. +Purdy asked me first." There was a sudden flash of daring in her eyes +as she turned to the cowpuncher. "I shall be very glad to go," she +said; "will you call for me at the car?" + +"I sure will," he answered, and turned his eyes toward the flats. This +was to be _his_ night, his last on the Wolf River range, he realized +savagely. In the morning he must ride very far away. For before the +eyes of all Wolf River he had swallowed an insult. And the man knew +that Wolf River knew why he did not shoot. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE RIM OF THE BENCH + +Out on the flat the Texan was riding "straight up" amid a whirl of +white dust. + +"Fan him, Tex!" + +"Stay with him!" + +The cries of the cowboys cut high above the chorus of yelling applause +as the furious outlaw tried every known trick to unseat the rider. +High in the air he bucked, swapping ends like a flash, and landing with +all four feet "on a dollar," his legs stiff as jack-pine posts. The +Texan rode with one hand gripping the hackamore rope and the other his +quirt which stung and bit into the frenzied animal's shoulders each +time he hit the ground. In a perfect storm of fury the horse plunged, +twisted, sunfished, and bucked to free himself of the rider who swayed +easily in the saddle and raked him flank and sides with his huge +rowelled spurs. + +"Stay a long time!" + +"Scratch him, Tex!" yelled the delighted cowpunchers. + +Suddenly the yells of appreciation gave place to gasps even from the +initiated, as the rage-crazed animal leaped high into the air and +throwing himself backward, crashed to the ground squarely upon his +back. As the dust cloud lifted the Texan stood beside him, one foot +still in the stirrup, slashing right and left across the struggling +brute's ears with his braided quirt. The outlaw leaped to his feet +with the cowboy in the saddle and the crowd went wild. Then with the +enthusiasm at its height, the man jerked at his hackamore knot, and the +next moment the horse's head was free and the rider rode "on his +balance" without the sustaining grip on the hackamore rope to hold him +firm in his saddle. The sudden loosening of the rawhide thongs gave +the outlaw new life. He sunk his head and redoubled his efforts, as +with quirt in one hand and hackamore in the other the cowboy lashed his +shoulders while his spurs raked the animal to a bloody foam. Slower +and slower the outlaw fought, pausing now and then to scream shrilly as +with bared teeth and blazing eyes he turned this way and that, sucking +the air in great blasts through his blood-dripping nostrils. + +At last he was done. Conquered. For a moment he stood trembling in +every muscle, and as he sank slowly to his knees, the Texan stepped +smiling from the saddle. + +"Sometime, Slim," he grinned as he reached for his tobacco and papers, +"if you-all can get holt of a horse that ain't plumb gentle, I'll show +you a real ride." + +All about was the confusion attendant to the breaking-up of the crowd. +Men yelled at horses as they hitched them to the wagons. Pedestrians, +hurrying with their tickets toward the saloons, dodged from under the +feet of cowboys' horses, and the flat became a tangle of wagons with +shouting drivers. + +Alice Marcum stood upon the edge of the lumber-pile with the wind +whipping her skirts about her silk stockings as the Texan, saddle over +his arm, glanced up and waved, a gauntleted hand. The girl returned +the greeting with a cold-eyed stare and once more found herself growing +furiously angry. For the man's lips twisted into their cynical smile +as his eyes rested for a moment upon her own, shifted, lingered with +undisguised approval upon her silk stockings, and with devilish +boldness, returned to her own again. Suddenly his words flashed +through her brain. "I always get what I go after--sometimes." She +recalled the consummate skill with which he had conquered the renegade +steer and the outlaw broncho--mastered them completely, and yet always +in an off-hand manner as though the thing amused him. Never for a +moment had he seemed to exert himself--never to be conscious of effort. +Despite herself the girl shuddered nervously, and ignoring Endicott's +proffer of assistance, scrambled to the ground and hastened toward her +coach. + +A young lady who possessed in a high degree a very wholesome love of +adventure, Alice Marcum coupled with it a very unwholesome habit of +acting on impulse. As unamenable to reason as she was impervious to +argument, those who would remonstrate with her invariably found +themselves worsted by the simple and easy process of turning their +weapons of attack into barriers of defence. Thus when, an hour later, +Winthrop Adams Endicott found her seated alone at a little table in the +dining-car he was agreeably surprised when she greeted him with a smile +and motioned him into the chair opposite. + +"For goodness' sake, Winthrop, sit down and talk to me. There's +nothing so stupid as dining alone--and especially when you want to talk +to somebody." As Endicott seated himself, she rattled on: "I wanted to +go to that preposterous supper they are going to 'dish up' at the +hotel, but when I found they were going to separate the 'ladies and +gents' and feed them in relays, I somehow lost the urge. The men, most +of them, are interesting--but the women are deadly. I know just what +it would be--caught snatches of it from the wagons during the +lulls--preserves, and babies, and what Harry's ma died of. The men +carry an atmosphere of unrestraint--of freshness----" + +Endicott interrupted her with a nod: "Yes," he observed, dryly, "I +believe that is the term----" + +"Don't be guilty of a pun, Winthrop. At least, not a slangy one. It's +quite unsuited to your style of beauty. But, really, wasn't it all +delightful? Did you ever see such riding, and shooting, and lassoing?" + +"No. But I have never lived in a country where it is done. I have +always understood that cowboys were proficient along those lines, but +why shouldn't they be? It's their business----" + +"There you go--reducing everything to terms of business! Can't you see +the romance of it--what it stands for? The wild free life of the +plains, the daily battling with the elements, and the mastery of nerve +and skill over blind brute force and fury! I love it! And tonight I'm +going to a real cowboy dance." + +"Alice!" The word carried a note of grave disapproval. "Surely you +were not serious about attending that orgy!" + +The girl stared at him in surprise. "Serious! Of course I'm serious! +When will I ever get another chance to attend a cowboy dance--and with +a real cowboy, too?" + +"The whole thing is preposterous! Perfectly absurd! If you are bound +to attend that affair I will take you there, and we can look on and----" + +"I don't want to look on. I want to dance--to be in it all. It will +be an experience I'll never forget." + +The man nodded: "And one you may never cease to regret. What do you +know of that man? Of his character; of his antecedents? He may be the +veriest desperado for all you know." + +The girl clapped her hands in mock delight: "Oh, wouldn't that be +grand! I hadn't thought of that. To attend a dance with just a plain +cowboy doesn't fall to every girl's lot, but one who is a cowboy and a +desperado, too!" She rolled her eyes to express the seventh heavendom +of delight. + +Endicott ignored the mockery. "I am sure neither your mother nor your +father----" + +"No, neither of them would approve, of course. But really, Winthrop, +I'm way past the short petticoat stage--though the way they're making +them now nobody would guess it. I know it's improper and +unconventional and that it isn't done east of the Mississippi nor west +of the Rocky Mountains. But when in Rome do as the roamers do, as +someone has said. And as for Mr. Purdy," she paused and looked +Endicott squarely in the eyes. "Do you know why he didn't shoot that +disgusting Tex when he insulted him?" + +Endicott nodded. "Yes," he answered. "Because he was afraid to." + +Colour suffused the girl's face and she arose abruptly from the table. +"At least," she said haughtily, "you and Wolf River are thoroughly in +accord on _that_ point." + +As the man watched her disappear through the doorway he became aware +that the fat woman who had sought refuge under the coach was staring at +him through her lorgnette from her seat across the aisle. + +"Young man, I believe you insulted that girl!" she wheezed indignantly. + +"You should be a detective, madam. Not even a great one could be +farther from the truth," he replied dryly, and rising, passed into the +smoking compartment of his Pullman where he consumed innumerable +cigarettes as he stared out into the gathering night. + +Seated in her own section of the same Pullman, Alice Marcum sat and +watched the twilight deepen and the lights of the little town twinkle +one by one from the windows. Alone in the darkening coach the girl was +not nearly so sure she was going to enjoy her forthcoming adventure. +Loud shouts, accompanied by hilarious laughter and an occasional pistol +shot, floated across the flat. She pressed her lips tighter and +heartily wished that she had declined Purdy's invitation. It was not +too late, yet. She could plead a headache, or a slight indisposition. +She knew perfectly well that Endicott had been right and she wrong but, +with the thought, the very feminine perversity of her strengthened her +determination to see the adventure through. + +"Men are such fools!" she muttered angrily. "I'll only stay a little +while, of course, but I'm going to that dance if it is the last thing I +ever do--just to show him that--that--" her words trailed into silence +without expressing just what it was she intended to show him. + +As the minutes passed the girl's eyes glowed with a spark of hope. +"Maybe," she muttered, "maybe Mr. Purdy has forgotten, or--" the +sentence broke off shortly. Across the flat a rider was approaching +and beside him trotted a lead-horse upon whose back was an empty +saddle. For just an instant she hesitated, then rose from her seat and +walked boldly to the door of the coach. + +"Good evenin', mom," the cowboy smiled as he dismounted to assist her +from the steps of the coach. + +"Good evening," returned the girl. "But, you needn't to have gone to +the trouble of bringing a horse just to ride that little way." + +"'Twasn't no trouble, mom, an' he's woman broke. I figured yeh +wouldn't have no ridin' outfit along so I loant a sideways saddle offen +a friend of mine which his gal usta use before she learnt to ride +straddle. The horse is hern, too, an' gentle as a dog. Here I'll give +yeh a h'ist." The lead-horse nickered softly, and reaching up, the +girl stroked his velvet nose. + +"He's woman broke," repeated the cowboy, and as Alice looked up her +eyes strayed past him to the window of the coach where they met +Endicott's steady gaze. + +The next moment Purdy was lifting her into the saddle, and without a +backward glance the two rode out across the flat. + +The girl was a devoted horsewoman and with the feel of the horse under +her, her spirits revived and she drew in a long breath of the fragrant +night. There was a living tang to the air, soft with the balm of June, +and as they rode side by side the cowboy pointed toward the east where +the sharp edge of the bench cut the rim of the rising moon. Alice +gasped at the beauty of it. The horses stopped and the two watched in +silence until the great red disc rose clear of the clean-cut sky-line. + +About the wreck torches flared and the night was torn by the clang and +rattle of gears as the great crane swung a boxcar to the side. The +single street was filled with people--women and men from the wagons, +and cowboys who dashed past on their horses or clumped along the wooden +sidewalk with a musical jangle of spurs. + +The dance-hall was a blaze of light toward which the people flocked +like moths to a candle flame. As they pushed the horses past, the girl +glanced in. Framed in the doorway stood a man whose eyes met hers +squarely--eyes that, in the lamplight seemed to smile cynically as they +strayed past her and rested for a moment upon her companion, even as +the thin lips were drawn downward at their corners in a sardonic grin. + +Unconsciously she brought her quirt down sharply, and her horse, glad +of the chance to stretch his legs after several days in the stall, +bounded forward and taking the bit in his teeth shot past the little +cluster of stores and saloons, past the straggling row of houses and +headed out on the trail that wound in and out among the cottonwood +clumps of the valley. At first, the girl tried vainly to check the +pace, but as the animal settled to a steady run a spirit of wild +exhilaration took possession of her--the feel of the horse bounding +beneath her, the muffled thud of his hoofs in the soft sand of the +trail, the alternating patches of moonlight and shadow, and the keen +tang of the night air--all seemed calling her, urging her on. + +At the point where the trail rose abruptly in its ascent to the bench, +the horse slackened his pace and she brought him to a stand, and for +the first time since she left the town, realized she was not alone. +The realization gave her a momentary start, as Purdy reined in close +beside her; but a glance into the man's face reassured her. + +"Oh, isn't it just grand! I feel as if I could ride on, and on, and +on." + +The man nodded and pointed upward where the surface of the bench cut +the sky-line sharply. + +"Yes, mom," he answered respectfully. "If yeh'd admire to, we c'n +foller the trail to the top an' ride a ways along the rim of the bench. +If you like scenes, that ort to be worth while lookin' at. The dance +won't git a-goin' good fer an hour yet 'til the folks gits het up to +it." + +For a moment Alice hesitated. The romance of the night was upon her. +Every nerve tingled, with the feel of the wild. Her glance wandered +from the rim of the bench to the cowboy, a picturesque figure as he sat +easily in his saddle, a figure toned by the soft touch of the moonlight +to an intrinsic symbolism of vast open spaces. + +Something warned her to go back, but--what harm could there be in just +riding to the top? Only for a moment--a moment in which she could +feast her eyes upon the widespread panorama of moonlit wonder--and +then, they would be in the little town again before the dance was in +full swing. In her mind's eye she saw Endicott's disapproving frown, +and with a tightening of the lips she started her horse up the hill and +the cowboy drew in beside her, the soft brim of his Stetson concealing +the glance of triumph that flashed from his eyes. + +The trail slanted upward through a narrow coulee that reached the bench +level a half-mile back from the valley. As the two came out into the +open the girl once more reined her horse to a standstill. Before her, +far away across the moonlit plain the Bear Paws loomed in mysterious +grandeur. The clean-cut outline of Miles Butte, standing apart from +the main range, might have been an Egyptian pyramid rising abruptly +from the desert. From the very centre of the sea of peaks the +snow-capped summit of Big Baldy towered high above Tiger Ridge, and Saw +Tooth projected its serried crown until it seemed to merge into the +Little Rockies which rose indistinct out of the dim beyond. + +The cowboy turned abruptly from the trail and the two headed their +horses for the valley rim, the animals picking their way through the +patches of prickly pears and clumps of low sage whose fragrant aroma +rose as a delicate incense to the nostrils of the girl. + +Upon the very brink of the valley they halted, and in awed silence +Alice sat drinking in the exquisite beauty of the scene. + +Before her as far as the eye could see spread the broad reach of the +Milk River Valley, its obfusk depths relieved here and there by bright +patches of moonlight, while down the centre, twisting in and out among +the dark clumps of cottonwoods, the river wound like a ribbon of +gleaming silver. At widely scattered intervals the tiny lights of +ranch houses glowed dull yellow in the distance, and almost at her feet +the clustering lights of the town shone from the open windows and doors +of buildings which stood out distinctly in the moonlight, like a +village in miniature. Faint sounds, scarcely audible in the stillness +of the night floated upward--the thin whine of fiddles, a shot now and +then from the pistol of an exuberant cowboy sounding tiny and far away +like the report of a boy's pop-gun. + +The torches of the wrecking crew flickered feebly and the drone of +their hoisting gears scarce broke the spell of the silence. + +Minutes passed as the girl's eyes feasted upon the details of the scene. + +"Oh, isn't it wonderful!" she breathed, and then in swift alarm, +glanced suddenly into the man's face. Unnoticed he had edged his horse +close so that his leg brushed hers in the saddle. The hat brim did not +conceal the eyes now, that stared boldly into her face and in sudden +terror the girl attempted to whirl her horse toward the trail. But the +man's arm shot out and encircled her waist and his hot breath was upon +her cheek. With all the strength of her arm she swung her quirt, but +Purdy held her close; the blow served only to frighten the horses which +leaped apart, and the girl felt herself dragged from the saddle. + + +In the smoking compartment of the Pullman, Endicott finished a +cigarette as he watched the girl ride toward the town in company with +Purdy. + +"She's a--a headstrong _little fool_!" he growled under his breath. He +straightened out his legs and stared gloomily at the brass cuspidor. +"Well, I'm through. I vowed once before I'd never have anything more +to do with her--and yet--" He hurled the cigarette at the cuspidor and +took a turn up and down the cramped quarters of the little room. Then +he stalked to his seat, met the fat lady's outraged stare with an +ungentlemanly scowl, procured his hat, and stamped off across the flat +in the direction of the dance-hall. As he entered the room a feeling +of repugnance came over him. The floor was filled with noisy dancers, +and upon a low platform at the opposite end of the room three +shirt-sleeved, collarless fiddlers sawed away at their instruments, as +they marked time with boots and bodies, pausing at intervals to mop +their sweat-glistening faces, or to swig from a bottle proffered by a +passing dancer. Rows of onlookers of both sexes crowded the walls and +Endicott's glance travelled from face to face in a vain search for the +girl. + +A little apart from the others the Texan leaned against the wall. The +smoke from a limp cigarette which dangled from the corner of his lips +curled upward, and through the haze of it Endicott saw that the man was +smiling unpleasantly. Their eyes met and Endicott turned toward the +door in hope of finding the girl among the crowd that thronged the +street. + +Hardly had he reached the sidewalk when he felt a hand upon his arm, +and turned to stare in surprise into the dark features of a +half-breed,--the same, he remembered, who had helped the Texan to +saddle the outlaw. With a swift motion of the head the man signalled +him to follow, and turned abruptly into the deep shadow of an alley +that led along the side of the livery bam. Something in the +half-breed's manner caused Endicott to obey without hesitation and a +moment later the man turned and faced him. + +"You hont you 'oman?" Endicott nodded impatiently and the half-breed +continued: "She gon' ridin' wit Purdy." He pointed toward the winding +trail. "Mebbe-so you hur' oop, you ketch." Without waiting for a +reply the man slipped the revolver from his holster and pressed it into +the astonished Endicott's hand, and catching him by the sleeve, hurried +him to the rear of the stable where, tied to the fence of the corral, +two horses stood saddled. Loosing one, the man passed him the bridle +reins. "Dat hoss, she damn good hoss. Mebbe-so you ride lak' hell you +com' long in tam'. Dat Purdy, she not t'ink you got de gun, mebbe-so +you git chance to kill um good." As the full significance of the man's +words dawned upon him Endicott leaped into the saddle and, dashing from +the alley, headed at full speed out upon the winding, sandy trail. On +and on he sped, flashing in and out among the clumps of cottonwood. At +the rise of the trail he halted suddenly to peer ahead and listen. A +full minute he stood while in his ears sounded only the low hum of +mosquitoes and the far-off grind of derrick wheels. + +He glanced upward and for a moment his heart stood still. Far above, +on the rim of the bench, silhouetted clearly against the moonlight sky +were two figures on horseback. Even as he looked the figures blended +together--there was a swift commotion, a riderless horse dashed from +view, and the next moment the sky-line showed only the rim of the bench. + +The moon turned blood-red. And with a curse that sounded in his ears +like the snarl of a beast, Winthrop Adams Endicott tightened his grip +upon the revolver and headed the horse up the steep ascent. + +The feel of his horse labouring up the trail held nothing of +exhilaration for Endicott. He had galloped out of Wolf River with the +words of the half-breed ringing in his ears: "Mebbe-so you ride lak' +hell you com' long in tam'!" But, would he "com' long in tam'"? There +had been something of sinister portent in that swift merging together +of the two figures upon the sky-line, and in the flash-like glimpse of +the riderless horse. Frantically he dug his spurless heels into the +labouring sides of his mount. + +"Mebbe-so you kill um good," the man had said at parting, and as +Endicott rode he knew that he would kill, and for him the knowledge +held nothing of repugnance--only a wild fierce joy. He looked at the +revolver in his hand. Never before had the hand held a lethal weapon, +yet no slightest doubt as to his ability to use it entered his brain. +Above him, somewhere upon the plain beyond the bench rim, the woman he +loved was at the mercy of a man whom Endicott instinctively knew would +stop at nothing to gain an end. The thought that the man he intended +to kill was armed and that he was a dead shot never entered his head, +nor did he remember that the woman had mocked and ignored him, and +against his advice had wilfully placed herself in the man's power. She +had harried and exasperated him beyond measure--and yet he loved her. + +The trail grew suddenly lighter. The walls of the coulee flattened +into a wide expanse of open. Mountains loomed in the distance and in +the white moonlight a riderless horse ceased snipping grass, raised his +head, and with ears cocked forward, stared at him. In a fever of +suspense Endicott gazed about him, straining his eyes to penetrate the +half-light, but the plain stretched endlessly away, and upon its +surface was no living, moving thing. + +Suddenly his horse pricked his ears and sniffed. Out of a near-by +depression that did not show in the moonlight another horse appeared. +It, too, was riderless, and the next instant, from the same direction +sounded a low, muffled cry and, leaping from his saddle, he dashed +toward the spot. The sage grew higher in the depression which was the +head of a branch of the coulee by means of which the trail gained the +bench, and as he plunged in, the head and shoulders of a man appeared +above a bush. Endicott was very close when the man pushed something +fiercely from him, and the body of a woman crashed heavily into the +sage. Levelling the gun, he fired. The shot rang loud, and upon the +edge of the depression a horse snorted nervously. The man pitched +forward and lay sprawled grotesquely upon the ground and Endicott saw +that his extended hand grasped a revolver. + +Dully he stared at the thing on the ground at his feet. There was a +movement in the scrub and Alice Marcum stood beside him. He glanced +into her face. And as her eyes strayed from the sprawling figure to +meet his, Endicott read in their depths that which caused his heart to +race madly. She stepped toward him and suddenly both paused to listen. +The girl's face turned chalk-white in the moonlight. From the +direction of the coulee came the sound of horses' hoofs pounding the +trail! + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE ARREST + +Bat Lajune grinned into the dark as the galloping cow-horse carried +Endicott out upon the trail of Purdy and the girl. "A'm t'ink dat wan +good job. Mebbe-so de pilgrim keel Purdy, _bien_! Mebbe-so Purdy keel +de pilgrim, den de sheriff ketch Purdy an' she got for git hang--dat +pret' good, too. Anyhow, Tex, she don' got for bodder 'bout keel Purdy +no mor'. Tex kin keel him all right, but dat Purdy she damn good shot, +too. Mebbe-so she git de drop on Tex. Den afterwards, me--A'm got to +fool 'roun' an' keel Purdy, an' mebbe-so A'm hang for dat, too. Wat de +hell!" + +A man rode up to the corral and tied his horse to the fence. The +half-breed drew into the shadow. "Dat Sam Moore," he muttered. "She +dipity sher'ff, an' she goin' try for git 'lect for de beeg sher'ff dis +fall. Mebbe-so she lak' for git chanct for 'rest som'one. A'm goin' +see 'bout dat." He stepped to the side of the man, who started +nervously and peered into his face. + +"Hello, Bat, what the devil you doin' prowlin' around here? Why hain't +you in dancin'?" + +The half-breed shrugged: "Me, A'm no lak' for dance mooch. She don' do +no good. Anyhow, A'm hont 'roun' for fin' you. A'm t'ink mebbe-so you +better com' 'long wit' me." + +"Come along with you! What's on yer mind?" Suddenly the man +straightened: "Say, look a here, if you're up to helpin' Tex Benton +pull off any gag on me, you've picked the wrong hand, see!" + +The other shook his head vigorously: "_Non_! Tex, she goin' in de +dance-hall. She don' know nuthin' 'bout w'at A'm know." + +"What you drivin' at? Come on, spit 'er out! I hain't a-goin' to fool +'round here all night an' miss the dancin'." + +Bat stepped closer: "Two mans an' wan 'oman gon' up de trail. A'm +t'ink som'one goin' for git keel. Mebbe-so we better gon' up an' see +'bout dat." + +"You're crazy as hell! The trail's free, hain't it? What business I +got hornin' in on 'em? I come to town for to take in the dance, an' +I'm a-goin' to. Besides it's a good chanct to do a little +'lectioneerin'." Once more Bat shrugged, and turning away, began to +untie his horse. + +"Four Ace Johnson, over 'crost de riv', she dipity sher'ff, too. A'm +hear she goin' run for de beeg sher'ff, nex' fall. A'm gon' over an' +see if she no lak' to go 'long an' mak' de arres' if som'ting happen. +Mebbe-so w'en de votin' tam' com' 'long de men lak' for hav' Choteau +County sher'ff w'at kin mak' de arres' better as de sher'ff w'at kin +dance good. _Voila_!" Without so much as a glance toward the other, +he slipped into his saddle and started slowly down the alley. Before +he reached the street Moore's horse pushed up beside him. + +"Where's this here outfit?" he growled, with a glance toward the +dance-hall lights, "an' what makes you think they's a-goin' to be +gun-fightin'?" + +"A'm t'ink dey ain' so far," replied the half-breed as he swung into +the trail at a trot. And although the impatient deputy plied him with +a volley of questions the other vouchsafed no further information. +Midway of the ascent to the bench the two drew rein abruptly. From +above, and at no great distance, rang the sound of a shot--then +silence. The deputy glanced at the half-breed: "Hey, Bat," he +whispered, "this here's a dangerous business!" + +"Mebbe-so Choteau County lak' to git de sher'ff w'at ain' so mooch +scairt." + +"Scairt! Who's scairt? It hain't that. But I got a wife an' nine +kids back there in the mountains, an' I'm a-goin' to deputize you." + +The half-breed shot him a look of sudden alarm: "_Non_! _Non_! Better +I lak' I ponch de cattle. You ke'p de nine wife an' de kid!" + +"You hain't got no more sense than a reservation Injun!" growled the +deputy. "What I mean is, you got to help me make this here arrest!" + +The half-breed grinned broadly: "Me,--A'm de, w'at you call, de posse, +eh? _Bien_! Com' on 'long den. Mebbe-so we no ketch, you no git +'lect for sher'ff." + +At the head of the trail the deputy checked his galloping mount with a +jerk and scrutinized the three riderless horses that stood huddled +together. His face paled perceptibly. "Oh, Lord!" he gasped between +stiffening lips: "It's Tex, an' Jack Purdy, an' they've fit over +Cinnabar Joe's gal!" + +He turned wrathfully toward Bat. "Why'n you tell me who it was up +here, so's I could a gathered a man's-size posse?" he demanded. +"Whichever one of them two has shot up the other, they hain't goin' to +be took in none peaceable. An' if they've killed one of each other +a'ready, he ain't goin' to be none scrupulous about pottin' you an' me. +Chances is, they've got us covered right now. 'Tain't noways +percautious to go ahead--an' we don't dast to go back! Bat, this is a +hell of a place to be--an' it's your fault. Mebbe they won't shoot a +unarmed man--here Bat, you take my gun an' go ahead. I'll tell 'em +back there how you was game to the last. O-O-o-o-o! I got a turrible +cramp in my stummick! I got to lay down. Do your duty, Bat, an' if I +surmise this here attact, which I think it's the appendeetus, I'll tell +'em how you died with yer boots on in the service of yer country." The +man forced his six-shooter into the half-breed's hand and, slipping +limply from his saddle to the ground, wriggled swiftly into the shadow +of a sage bush. + +Bat moved his horse slowly forward as he peered about him. "If Purdy +keel de pilgrim, den A'm better look out. He don' lak' me nohow, +'cause A'm fin' out 'bout dat cinch. Better A'm lak' Sam Moore, A'm +git de 'pendeceet in my belly for li'l w'ile." He swung off his horse +and flattening himself against the ground, advanced cautiously from +bush to bush. At the edge of the depression he paused and stared at +the two figures that huddled close together a few feet ahead. Both +were gazing toward the trail and in the moonlight he recognized the +face of the pilgrim. With a smile of satisfaction the half-breed stood +erect and advanced boldly. + +"You com' in tam', eh?" he asked, as with a nod Endicott stepped toward +him and handed him the revolver. + +"Yes, just in time. I am deeply grateful to you." + +"Eh?" The other's brows drew together. + +"I say, I thank you--for the gun, and for telling me----" + +"Ha, dat's a'right. W'er' Purdy?" The girl shuddered, as Endicott +pointed to the ground at some little distance away. The man advanced +and bent over the prostrate form. + +"Ba goss!" he exclaimed with a glance of admiration. "You shoot heem +after de draw! _Nom de Dieu_! You good man wit' de gun! Wer' you hit +heem?" + +Endicott shook his head. "I don't know. I saw him, and shot, and he +fell." The half-breed was bending over the man on the ground. + +"You shoot heem on he's head," he approved, "dat pret' good place." He +bent lower and a sibilant sound reached the ears of Endicott and the +girl. After a moment the man stood up and came toward them smiling. +"A'm fin' out if she dead," he explained, casually. "A'm speet de +tobac' juice in he's eye. If she wink she ain' dead. Purdy, she don' +wink no mor'. Dat damn good t'ing." + +Again Alice Marcum shuddered as Endicott spoke: "Can you find our +horses?" he asked. "I must go to town and give myself up." + +"_Oui_, A'm git de hoss' a'right. Better you tak' 'em an' skeep off. +A'm git on dat posse an' you bet we no ketch. A'm lak' you fine." + +"No! No!" Endicott exclaimed. "If I have killed a man I shall stand +trial for it. I won't sneak away like a common murderer. I know my +act was no crime, let the decision of the jury be what it may." + +The half-breed regarded him with a puzzled frown. "You mean you lak' +fer git arres'?" he asked in surprise. + +"Why, of course! I--" the other interrupted with a laugh. + +"A'right. Dat de kin' Sam Moore she lak' fer arres'. Sam, she layin' +back here a ways. She dipity sher'ff, an' we'n we com' on dem hoss', +Sam she git to fink 'bout he's wife an' kids. He don' fink 'bout dem +mooch only w'en he git dronk, or git scairt. Den he lov' 'em lak' +hell, an' he grab de beeg belly-ache, so dey don' got for feel sorry +'bout heem gittin' keel." + +Slipping his own gun into its holster, the half-breed turned and walked +toward the spot where he had left the deputy, and as he walked he threw +open the cylinder of the officer's gun and removed the cartridges. + +"Sam!" he called sharply. Cautiously a head raised from behind a sage +bush. "How long you t'ink dat tak' you git well? Wan man he lak' for +git arres' w'en you git time." + +"Shut up! Don't talk so loud! D'you want to git us killed? Which one +got it?" + +"Purdy. De pilgrim shoot heem 'cause he run off wit' he's girl." + +"Pilgrim! What pilgrim! An' what girl? Ain't that Tex Benton's +horse, an' Cinnabar Joe's----?" + +"Uh-huh, A'm bor' heem Tex boss for ketch Purdy. An', Ba goss, he +shoot heem on he's head after Purdy draw'd!" + +Moore stared aghast. "What? A pilgrim done that? Not on yer life! +He may look an' act like a pilgrim but, take it from me, he's a +desperate character if he got Purdy after he draw'd. It's worser than +if it was Tex. _He_ might of took pity on us, knowin' about the +fambly. But a stranger, an' one that kin git a man like Jack Purdy! +O-o-o-o, my stummick! Bat, I'm 'fraid I'm a-passin' away! These +spells is a-killin' me--an' what'll become of the woman an' the kids?" + +The half-breed grinned: "Mebbe-so you kin' pass back agin, Sam. He +ain' got no gun." + +Sam Moore ceased to writhe, and sat abruptly erect. "Ain't got no +gun!" he exclaimed. "What did he shoot Purdy with?" + +"My gun. He giv' it back to me. A'm bor' heem dat gun li'l while ago." + +The deputy sprang to his feet. "Quick, now, Bat!" he roared loudly. +"You slip these irons on him, an' I'll catch up the horses. Don't take +no chances!" He tossed the half-breed a pair of hand-cuffs, and +started after his own horse. "Kill him if he makes a crooked move. +Tell him you're actin' under my authority an' let him understand we're +hard men to tamper with--us sheriffs. We don't stand fer no foolin'." + + +In Curly Hardee's dance-hall Tex Benton leaned against the wall and +idly watched the couples weave in and out upon the floor to the whining +accompaniment of the fiddles and the clanging piano. + +Apparently the cowboy's interest centred solely upon the dancers, but a +close observer would have noticed the keen glance with which he scanned +each new arrival--noticed too, that after a few short puffs on a +cigarette the man tossed it to the floor and immediately rolled +another, which is not in the manner of a man with a mind at ease. + +The Texan saw Endicott enter the room, watched as the man's eyes swept +the faces of dancers and spectators, and smiled as he turned toward the +door. + +"Three of us," mused the cowboy, with the peculiar smile still twisting +the corners of his lips, "Purdy, an' me, an' the pilgrim. Purdy's +work's so coarse he'll gum his own game, an' that's where I come in. +An' the pilgrim--I ain't quite figgered how he stacks up." The +cowpuncher glanced at his watch. "It's time they showed up long ago. +I wonder what's keepin' em." Suddenly he straightened himself with a +jerk: "Good Lord! I wonder if---- But no, not even Purdy would try +_that_. Still, if he knows I know he tried to dope me he'll be +figgerin' on pullin' his freight anyhow, an'--" The man's lips +tightened and, elbowing his way to the door he stepped onto the street +and hurried to the Headquarters saloon. Cinnabar Joe was behind the +bar, apparently none the worse for his dose of chloral, and in answer +to a swift signal, followed the Texan to the rear of the room. + +"Does Purdy know I'm wise to his dope game?" + +The bartender nodded: "Yes, I told him you must of switched the +glasses." + +"I saw him leadin' your horse rigged up with your side-saddle acrost +the flats awhile back." + +Again the bartender nodded: "He borrowed the outfit fer a gal of his'n +he said come in on the train. Wanted to take her fer a ride." + +"Where'd they go?" The words whipped viciously. + +"Search me! I've had my hands full to keep track of what's goin' on in +here, let alone outside." + +Without a word the Texan stepped out the back door and hastened toward +the horse corral behind the livery stable. Circling its fence to the +head of the alley, he stared in surprise at the spot where he and Bat +Lajune had tied their horses. The animals were gone, and cursing the +half-breed at every step, he rushed to the street, and catching up the +reins of a big roan that stood in a group of horses, swung into the +saddle and headed out onto the trail. + +"Women are fools," he muttered savagely. "It beats hell what even the +sensible ones will fall for!" + +At the up-bend of the trail he halted abruptly and listened. From the +shadows of the coulee ahead came the sound of voices and the soft +scraping of horses' feet. He drew the roan into a cottonwood thicket +and waited. + +"Somethin' funny here. Nobody ever come to a dance ridin' at a walk," +he muttered, and then as the little cavalcade broke into the bright +moonlight at a bend of the trail, his eyes widened with surprise. In +front rode Bat Lajune with Purdy's horse snubbed to his saddle-horn, +and immediately following him were the girl and Endicott riding side by +side. Tex saw that the girl was crying, and that Endicott's hands were +manacled, and that he rode the missing horse. Behind them rode Sam +Moore, pompously erect, a six-shooter laid across the horn of his +saddle, and a scowl of conceited importance upon his face that would +have evoked the envy of the Kaiser of Krautland. The figure appealed +to the Texan's sense of humour and waiting until the deputy was exactly +opposite his place of concealment, he filled his lungs and leaned +forward in his saddle. + +"Y-e-e-e-o-w!" The sound blared out like the shrill of doom. The +officer's six-shooter thudded upon the ground, his hands grasped the +horn of the saddle, his spurs dug into his horse's flanks and sent the +animal crashing between the girl and Endicott and caused Purdy's horse +to tear loose from the half-breed's saddle-horn. + +"Stand 'em off, Bat!" shrieked the deputy as he shot past, "I'm a-goin' +fer help!" and away he tore, leaning far over his horse's neck, with +Purdy's horse, the stirrups lashing his sides, dashing madly in his +wake. + +A moment later Tex pushed his mount into the trail where the girl, +drawn close to Endicott, waited in fearful expectation. The half-breed +met him with a grin. + +Rapidly, with many ejaculations interspersing explosive volleys of +half-intelligible words, Bat acquainted the Texan with the progress of +events. The cowpuncher listened without comment until the other had +finished. Then he turned to Endicott. + +"Where'd you learn to shoot?" he asked abruptly. + +"I never learned. Until tonight I never had a pistol in my hand." + +"You done damned well--to start out with," commented the Texan dryly. + +"But, oh, it's horrible!" sobbed the girl, "and it's all my fault!" + +"I reckon that's right. It looks like a bad mix-up all around." + +"Oh, why didn't you tell me what a _beast_ he was? You knew all the +time. And when you insulted him I thought you were _horrid_! And I +thought he was so noble when he refrained from shooting you." + +"No. He wasn't noble, none noticeable--Purdy wasn't. An' as for me +tellin' you about him--answer me square: Would you have believed me?" + +The girl's eyes fell before his steady gaze. + +"No," she faltered, "I wouldn't. But isn't there something we can do? +Some way out of this awful mess?" + +The Texan's eyes flashed a glint of daring. He was thinking rapidly. +Endicott moved his horse closer to the cowboy. "Can't you manage to +get _her_ away--onto a train some place so she can avoid the annoyance +of having to testify at the trial, and submit to the insulting remarks +of your sheriff?" + +The girl interrupted him: "Winthrop Adams Endicott, if you dare to even +think _such_ a thing--I'll never speak to you again! Indeed he _won't_ +take me away or put me on any train! I got you into this, and I won't +budge one inch until you get out of it. What do I care for a little +annoyance--and as for the sheriff, I'll say 'boo' at him in the dark +and he'll die." + +There was a gleam of approval in the eyes of the Texan as his lips +twisted into their peculiar cynical smile. "Spunky little devil," he +thought to himself. "There's a chance to pull a play here somewhere +that'll make me solid with her all right. I got to have time to +think." Aloud he said: "Just you leave things to me. I'll get a line +on what's what. But you both got to do as I say, an' no augerin' about +it neither. It looks from here as if things could be straightened out +if someone don't go to work an' ball the jack. An' as for Sam passin' +insultin' remarks no more--he won't. Here he comes now with about half +Wolf River for a posse." The cowboy turned to Endicott: "You go 'long +with 'em an' lay low 'til you hear from Bat, there, or me. Then you do +as we say, an' don't ask no questions." + +The rumble of horses' feet sounded from the direction of the little +town and the Texan whispered to Bat: "Find out where they lock him up. +An' when the excitement dies down you find me. I ain't a-goin' to lose +sight of _her_--see." The half-breed grinned his understanding and Tex +swung his horse in close beside the girl and awaited the coming of the +posse. + +With a yell the onrushing cowboys whom the deputy had recruited from +the dance-hall spied the little group and, thundering up at full +gallop, formed a closely packed circle about them. Recognizing the +deputy who was vociferously urging his horse from the rear, Tex forced +his way through the circle and called him aside. + +"Say, Sam," he drawled, in a tone that caused the deputy's hair to +prickle at its roots; "about some an' sundry insultin' remarks you +passed agin' the lady, yonder----" + +"No, I never----" + +"That'll be about all the lyin' you need to do now. An' just let this +sink in. You can lock up the pilgrim where you damn please. But the +lady goes to the hotel. If you aim to hold her as a witness you can +appoint a guard--an' I'm the guard. D'you get me? 'Cause if there's +any misunderstandin' lingerin' in them scrambled aigs you use fer +brains, I'll just start out by tellin' the boys what a hell of a brave +arrest you pulled off, an' about the nervy stand you made agin' odds to +guard your prisoners when I yipped at you from the brush. Then, after +they get through havin' their fun out of you, I'll just waste a shell +on you for luck--see?" + +"Sure, Tex, that sounds reasonable," the other rattled on in evident +relief. "Fact is, I be'n huntin' fer you ever sense I suspicioned +they'd be'n a murder. 'If I c'd only find Tex,' I says to myself, I +says, 'he'd be worth a hull posse hisself.' Jest you go ahead an' +night-herd the lady. I'll tell her myself so's it'll be official. An' +me an' the rest of the boys here, we'll take care of the pilgrim, which +he ain't no pilgrim at all, but a desperate desperado, or he couldn't +never have got Jack Purdy the way he done." + +The Texan grinned and, forcing his horse through the crowd, reached the +girl's side where he was joined a few moments later by the deputy. +Despite her embarrassing situation Alice Marcum could scarce restrain a +smile at the officer's sudden obsequious deference. Stetson in hand, +he bowed awkwardly. "Excuse me, mom, but, as I was goin' on to say in +reference of any remarks I might of passed previous, I found out +subsequent I didn't mean what I was sayin', which I misunderstood +myself complete. But as I was goin' on to say, mom, the State of +Montany might need you fer a witness in this here felonious trial, so +if you'll be so kind an' go to the _ho_tel along of Tex here whom he's +the party I've tolled off fer to guard you, an' don't stand no monkey +business neither. What I mean is," he hastened to add, catching a +glance from the Texan's eye, "don't be afraid to ask fer soap or towels +if there hain't none in yer room, an' if yer cold holler fer an extry +blanket er two. The State's a-payin' fer it, an' yer board, too, an' +if they don't fill you up every meal you set up a yell an' I'll see 't +they do." The deputy turned abruptly away and addressed the cowboys: +"Come on, boys, let's git this character under lock an' key so I kin +breathe easier." + +Even Endicott joined in the laugh that greeted the man's words and, +detaining a cowpuncher to ride on either side of the prisoner, the +officer solemnly led the way toward town. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +ONE WAY OUT + +As the horses traversed the two miles of winding trail, Alice Marcum +glanced from time to time at the Texan who rode silently at her side. +The man's face was grave and he seemed entirely oblivious to her +presence. Only once did she venture to speak to him. + +"I suppose I ought to thank you, Mr.----" + +"Tex'll do," supplied the man, without even the courtesy of a glance. + +"--for the very changed attitude of the sheriff, and for the fact that +I am to be lodged in the hotel instead of the jail." + +The girl thought the Texan's lips drew into their peculiar smile, but +he gave no further evidence of having heard and rode on in silence, +with his attention apparently fixed upon the tips of his horse's ears. +At the edge of town the crowd, with Endicott in its midst, swerved +toward the railroad and the girl found herself alone with her jailer. +She drew up her horse sharply and glanced back toward the prisoner. + +"This way," said a voice close beside her; "we'll go to the hotel, I +guess there's enough of 'em to see that the pilgrim gets locked up +safe." + +"But I--I want to speak to him. To tell him----" + +"Never mind what you want to tell him. It'll keep, I reckon." + +At the door of the wooden hotel the cowpuncher swung from his horse. +"You wait here a minute; I'll go fetch Jennie. She's prob'ly over to +the dance. She'll fix you up with a room an' see that you get what you +want." + +"But my bag?" + +"Yer what?" + +"My bag--with all my things in it. I left it in the car." + +"Oh, yer war-bag! All right, I'll get that after I've got Jennie cut +out an' headed this way." + +He stepped into the dance-hall next door and motioned to a plump, +round-faced girl who was dancing with a young cowboy. At the +conclusion of the dance the girl laughingly refused to accompany her +partner to the bar, and made her way toward the Texan. + +"Say, Jennie," the man said, after drawing her aside; "there's a girl +over to the hotel and I want you to go over an' fix her up with a room. +Give her Number 11. It's handy to the side door." + +The girl's nose went up and the laughing eyes flashed scornfully. "No, +you don't, Tex Benton! What do you think I am? An' what's more, you +don't pull nothin' like that around there. That hotel's run decent, +an' it's goin' to stay decent or Hank can get someone else fer help. +They's some several of the boys has tried it sence I be'n there but +they never tried it but onct. _An' that goes_!" The girl turned away +with a contemptuous sniff. + +"Jennie!" The Texan was smiling. "This is a little different case, I +reckon." + +"They're all different cases," she retorted. "But everything's be'n +tried from a sister come on a unexpected visit, to slippin' me +five--Cinnabar Joe tended to that one's case hisself, an' he done a +good job, too. So you might's well save yer wind 'cause there ain't +nothin' you can think up to say that'll fool me a little bit. I ain't +worked around hotels fer it's goin' on six years fer nothin', an' I +wouldn't trust no man--cowboys an' drummers least of all." + +"Listen, Jennie, I ain't tryin' to tell you I wouldn't. Only this +time, I ain't. If I was, don't you suppose I've got sense enough not +to go to you to help me with it?" The girl waited with all outward +appearance of skepticism for him to proceed. "This girl went ridin' +with Jack Purdy--he borrowed the side-saddle from Cinnabar----" + +"Did Cinnabar loan him that saddle fer any such----?" + +"Hold on, now, Cinnabar don't know nothin' about it. Purdy wants to +borrow his side-saddle an' Joe says sure." + +"He might of know'd if Purdy wanted it, it wasn't fer no good. You're +all bad enough, goodness knows, but he was the worst of the lot. I +hate Purdy an' you bet he cuts a big circle when he sees me comin'." + +"Well, he won't no more," answered the Texan dryly. "Purdy's dead." + +"Dead!" + +"Yes. He took a pilgrim's girl out on the bench an' the pilgrim got +wise to it an' dug out after 'em. Got there just in time an' took a +shot at Purdy an' got him." + +"Land sakes! I'm glad he did! If they was a few more pilgrims like +him that would get about half the rest of you, maybe the others would +turn decent, or take to the brush." + +The Texan laughed. "Anyway Purdy's dead, an' they've got the pilgrim +locked up, an' the girl's held fer a witness, an' I told Sam Moore I'd +take a shot at him if he locked her up wherever he's goin' to lock up +the pilgrim--in the wool-warehouse I reckon. Anyhow, he told her to go +to the hotel an' specified me fer a guard." + +"Oh, he did, did he? Well jest you wait 'til I get my hat. I guess +maybe she'll be safer with _two_ guards." With a meaning look the girl +hurried away and a moment later returned and followed the Texan from +the room. + +"Why was you so anxious she was to have Number 11, if what you've told +me is on the level?" she asked, as they approached the hotel. + +"I don't know, yet, exactly. But I've got a hunch they'll be somethin' +doin' a little later." + +"Uh-huh, an' I'll be right there when it's doin', too. An' you can bet +your last blue one on that!" + +Alice Marcum swung unassisted to the ground as the two approached. And +as she glanced into the wide, friendly eyes of the girl she felt deeply +grateful to the Texan for bringing a woman. Then the woman was +speaking: "Come right along in the house. I'm Jennie Dodds, an' I'll +see't you get settled comfortable. Tex, he told me all about it. Land +sakes! I bet you feel proud! Who'd a thought any pilgrim could a got +Jack Purdy! Where's your grip?" + +"Gosh! I plumb forgot!" exclaimed the cowboy, and started for his +horse. "I'll be back with yer war-bag in a minute." A few moments +later, he returned to the hotel carrying a leather bag. + +"I'm goin' to kind of slip around among the boys a bit. I've be'n +doin' some thinkin' an maybe we can figger a way out. I don't quite +like the way things is shapin' up. I'll be wantin' most likely to see +you in a while----" + +"We'll both be here," interrupted Jennie. "_Both_ of us. We'll be in +Number 11." + +Outside the hotel the Texan paused to roll and light a cigarette, and +as he blew the smoke from his lungs, he smiled cynically. + +"Purdy's work was so damn coarse he got just what was comin' to him. +There's only me an' the pilgrim, now--an' it's me an' him for it. I +ain't plumb got the girl sized up yet. If she's straight--all right. +She'll stay straight. If she ain't---- They say everything's fair in +love an' war, an' bein' as it's my deal the pilgrim's got to go up +against a stacked deck. An' if things works out right, believe me, +he's a-goin' to know he's be'n somewhere by the time he gets back--if +he ever does get back." + +For the third time that evening he entered the dance-hall and avoiding +the dancers made his way leisurely toward the bar that ran along one +side of the room. + +"Hello, Tex, ain't dancin'? Say, they're tellin' how a pilgrim killed +Jack Purdy. Yes, an' they got him locked up down in the +wool-warehouse. What's yourn?" The cowboy ranged himself beside the +Texan. + +"A little red liquor, I reckon." The men poured their drinks and the +Texan glanced toward the other: "You ain't mournin' none over Purdy, +Curly?" + +"Who, me?" the man laughed. "Not what you c'd notice, I ain't. An' +they's plenty others ain't, too. I don't hear no lamentations wailin' +a-bustin' in on the festchivities. It was over the pilgrim's girl. +They say how Purdy tried to----" + +"Yes, he did. But the pilgrim got there first. I been thinkin', +Curly. It's plumb shameful for to hold the pilgrim for doin' what one +of us would of had to do sooner or later. Choteau County has stood for +him about as long as it could, an' a damn sight longer than it ought +to. His work was gettin' so rotten it stunk, I could tell you about a +sage-brush corral an' some runnin'-iron work over on the south +slope----" + +"Yes," broke in the other, "an' there's a hell of a lot of I X an' Bear +Paw Pool cows that show'd up, brandin' time, 'thout no calves." + +The Texan nodded: "Exactly. Now, what I was goin' on to say: The grand +jury don't set for a couple or three months yet. An' when they do, +they'll turn the pilgrim loose so quick it'll make yer head swim. +Then, there's the girl. They'll hold her for a witness--not that +they'd have to, 'cause she'll stay on her own hook. Now what's the use +of them bein' took down to Benton an' stuck in jail? Drink up, an' +have another." + +"Not none," agreed Curly, as he measured out his liquor to an imaginary +line half-way up the glass. "But how'd you figger to fix it?" + +"Well," answered the Texan, as his lips twisted into their peculiar +smile; "we might get the right bunch together an' go down to the +wool-warehouse an' save the grand jury the trouble." + +The other stared at him in amazement: "You mean bust him out?" + +Tex laughed: "Sure. Lord! Won't it be fun seein' Sam Moore puttin' up +a scrap to save his prisoner?" + +"But, how'd we git away with him? All Sam w'd do is git a posse an' +take out after him an' they'd round him up 'fore he got to Three-mile. +Or if we went along we'd git further but they'd git us in the end an' +then we'd be in a hell of a fix!" + +"Your head don't hurt you none, workin' it that way, does it?" grinned +Tex. "I done thought it all out. We'll get the boys an' slip down to +the warehouse an' take the pilgrim out an' slip a noose around his neck +an' set him on a horse an' ride out of town a-cussin' him an' +a-swearin' to lynch him. He won't know but what we aim to hang him to +the first likely cottonwood, an' we'll have a lot of fun with him. An' +no one else won't know it, neither. Then you-all ride back an' pertend +to keep mum, but leak it out that we done hung him. They won't be no +posse hunt for him then an' I'll take him an' slip him acrost to the N. +P. or the C. P. R. an' let him go. It's too good a chanct to miss. +Lordy! Won't the pilgrim beg! An' Sam Moore--he'll be scairt out of a +year's growth!" + +"But, the girl," objected Curly. + +"Oh, the girl--well, they'll turn her loose, of course. They ain't +nothin' on her except for a witness. An' if they ain't no prisoner +they won't need no witness, will they?" + +"That's right," assented the other. "By gosh, Tex, what you can't +think up, the devil wouldn't bother with. That's sure some stunt. +Let's get the boys an' go to it!" + +"You get the boys together. Get about twenty of the live ones an' head +'em over to the Headquarters. I'll go hunt up a horse for the pilgrim +an' be over there in half an hour." + +Curly passed from man to man, whom he singled out from among the +dancers and onlookers, and the Texan slipped unobserved through the +door and proceeded directly to the hotel. On the street he met Bat. + +"De pilgrim, she lock up in de woolhouse an' Sam Moore she stan' 'long +de door wit two revolver an' wan big rifle." + +"All right, Bat. You look alive now, an' catch up Purdy's horse an' +see that you get a good set of bridle reins on him, an' find the girl's +horse an' get holt of a pack-horse somewheres an' get your war-bag an' +mine an' our blankets onto him, an' go down to the store an' get a +couple more pairs of blankets, an' grub enough fer a week for four, an' +get that onto him, an' have all them horses around to the side door of +the hotel in twenty minutes, or I'll bust you wide open an' fill your +hide with prickly pears." + +The half-breed nodded his understanding and slipped onto his horse as +the Texan entered the hotel. Passing through the office where a +coal-oil lamp burned dimly in a wall-bracket, he stepped into the +narrow hallway and paused with his eyes on the bar of yellow light that +showed at the bottom of the door of Number 11. + +"Most any fool thing would do to tell the girl. But I've got to make +it some plausible to put it acrost on Jennie. I'm afraid I kind of +over-played my hand a little when I let her in on this, but--damn it! +I felt kind of sorry for the girl even if it was her own fool fault +gettin' into this jack-pot. I thought maybe a woman could kind of +knock off the rough edges a little. Well, here goes!" He knocked +sharply, and it was a very grave-faced cowboy who stepped into the room +and closed the door behind him. "I've be'n doin' quite some feelin' +out of the public pulse, as the feller says, an' the way things looks +from here, the pilgrim is sure in bad. You see, the jury is bound to +be made up of cow-men an' ranchers with a sheep-man or two mixed in. +An' they're all denizens that Choteau County is infested with. Now a +stranger comin' in that way an' kind of pickin' one of us off, casual, +like a tick off'n a dog's ear, it won't be looked on with favour----" + +Jennie interrupted, with a belligerent forefinger wagging almost +against the Texan's nose: "But that Jack Purdy needed killin' if ever +any one did. He was loose an'----" + +"Yes," broke in Tex, "he was. I ain't here to pronounce no benediction +of blessedness on Purdy's remains. But, you got to recollect that most +of the jury, picked out at random, is in the same boat--loose, an' +needin' killin', which they know as well as you an' me do, an' +consequent ain't a-goin' to establish no oncomfortable precedent. +Suppose any pilgrim was allowed to step off'n a train any time he +happened to be comin' through, an' pick off a loose one? What would +Choteau County's or any other county's he-population look like in a +year's time, eh? It would look like the hair-brush out here in the +wash-room, an' you could send in the votin' list on a cigarette paper. +No, sir, the pilgrim ain't got a show if he's got to face a jury. +There's only one way out, an' there's about fifteen or twenty of the +boys that's willin' to give him a chance. We're a-goin' to bust him +out of jail an' put him on a horse an' run him up some cottonwood +coulee with a rope around his neck." + +Alice Marcum, who had followed every word, turned chalk-white in the +lamplight as she stared wide-eyed at the Texan, with fingers pressed +tight against her lips, while Jennie placed herself protectingly +between them and launched into a perfect tirade. + +"Hold on, now." Both girls saw that the man was smiling and Jennie +relapsed into a warlike silence. "A rope necktie ain't a-goin' to hurt +no one as long as he keeps his heft off'n it. As I was goin' on to +say, we'll run him up this coulee an' a while later the boys'll ride +back to town in the same semmey-serious mood that accompanies such +similar enterprises. They won't do no talkin' an' they won't need to. +Folks will naturally know that justice has be'n properly dispensed +with, an' that their taxes won't raise none owin' to county funds bein' +misdirected in prosecutin' a public benefactor--an' they'll be +satisfied. The preacher'll preach a long sermon condemnin' the takin' +of human life without due process of law, an' the next Sunday he'll +preach another one about the onchristian shootin' of folks without +givin' 'em a chanct to repent--after they'd drawed--an' he'll use the +lynchin' as a specimen of the workin's of the hand of the Lord in +bringin' speedy justice onto the murderer. + +"But they ain't be'n no lynchin' done. 'Cause the boys will turn the +prisoner over to me an' I'll hustle him acrost to the N. P. an' let him +get out of the country." + +Alice Marcum leaped to her feet: "Oh, are you telling me the truth? +How do I know you're not going to lynch him? I told him I'd stay with +him and see him through!" + +The Texan regarded her gravely: "You can," he said after a moment of +silence. "I'll have Bat take you to Snake Creek crossing an' you can +wait there 'til I come along with the pilgrim. Then we'll cut through +the mountains an' hit down through the bad lands an'----" + +"No you don't, Tex Benton!" Jennie was facing him again. "You're a +smooth one all right. How long would it take you to lose the pilgrim +there in the bad lands, even if you don't lynch him, which it ain't no +cinch you ain't a-goin' to--then where would _she_ be? No, sir, you +don't pull nothin' like that off on me!" + +"But I want to go!" cried Alice. "I want to be near him, and I'm not +afraid." + +The girl regarded her for a moment in silence. "I should think you'd +had enough of cowpunchers for one night. But if you're bound to go I +ain't got no right to hold you. I'd go along with you if I could, but +I can't." + +"I'm not afraid," she answered as her eyes sought the Texan's. "I've +learned a lot in the past few hours." + +"I guess you ain't learnt enough to hurt you none," retorted Jennie, +with a trace of acid in her tone. "An' you'll learn a lot more 'fore +you hit the N. P., or my name ain't Jennie Dodds. If you're bound to +go you can take my outfit. I guess Tex'll see that my horse comes +back, anyhow." + +The cowpuncher grinned: "Thanks, Jennie, I'm right proud to know you +think I wouldn't steal your horse." Once more he turned to the girl. +"When the half-breed comes for you, you go with him. I've got to go on +with the boys, now." Abruptly he left the room, and once more paused +in the hall before passing through the office. "She's game, all right. +An' the way she can look at a fellow out of those eyes of hers---- By +God! Purdy _ought_ to be'n killed!" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE PILGRIM + +A group of saddle-horses stood before the Headquarters saloon, and as +the Texan entered he was vociferously greeted by the twenty cowboys who +crowded the bar. + +"Come on, Tex, drink up!" + +"Hell'll be a-poppin' down to the wool-warehouse." + +"An', time we get there we won't be able to see Sam Moore fer dust." +Curly raised his glass and the cowpunchers joined in uproarious song: + + "We'll string him up to a cottonwood limb + An' dig his grave in under him, + We'll tromp down the clods, an' we won't give a damn + 'Cause he'll never kill another cow-man, + Ah wi yi yippie i oo-o-!" + +Without a break the Texan picked up the refrain, improvising words to +fit the occasion: + + "The sheriff's name, it's old Sam Moore, + He's standin' down by the jail-house door + With seventeen knives an' a gatlin' gun, + But you bet your boots we'll make him run + Ah wi yi yippie i o-o-o-!" + +With whoops of approbation and a deafening chorus of yowls and +catcalls, the cowpunchers crowded through the door. A moment later the +bar-room was deserted and out in the street the night air resounded +with the sound of snorting, trampling horses, the metallic jangle of +spurs and bit chains, the creak of saddle-leather, and the terse, +quick-worded observations of men mounting in the midst of the confusion +of refractory horses. + +"The sheriff's name, it's old Sam Moore!" roared a cowboy as he slammed +into the saddle of a skew-ball black. + +"Go git him!" howled another in exact imitation of Slim Maloney. + +There was a thunder of hoofs as the whole crowd, headed by Tex and +Curly swept down the street and across the flat toward the impromptu +jail. + +With a lighted lantern beside him, Sam Moore sat upon the strongly +built unloading platform before the warehouse door, access to which was +gained by means of a flight of six or eight plank steps at either end. +Up these steps rode a couple of cowpunchers while the rest drew up +sharply at the very edge of the platform. Hemmed in upon all sides the +valiant deputy glanced fearfully into the faces of the horsemen. +"Wha--What's up, boys? What's ailin' ye?" he managed to blurt out. + +"Drop them guns an' give over the key!" commanded someone. + +"Sure--sure, boys! I hain't aimin' to hurt no one. Yer all friends of +mine an' what you say goes with me." + +"Friends of yourn!" roared someone menacingly; "you're a liar, Sam! +You ain't never seen nary one of us before! Git that!" + +"Sure, sure thing, boys, I don't know who ye be. 'Tain't none of my +business. I couldn't name none of you. You don't need to be scairt of +me." + +"You beat it, then, an' lose yerself an' don't yer go stirrin' up no +rookus over to the dance, er we'll dangle you a little, too." + +"Sure. I'm a-goin' now. I----" + +"Fork over that key first!" + +"Sure, Tex! Here it is----" + +"Sure _who_!" rasped a voice close to the sheriff's ear. + +"I mean--I said---- Here's the doggone key! I was thinkin' of a +feller I know'd down to Wyomin'. Tex--Tex--Smith, er some such of a +name it was. I mistrusted you was him, an' mebbe you be fer all I +know. I don't savvy none of you whatever." + +"Get a move on, Sam!" + +"Me! I'm gone! An' you boys remember when 'lection time comes, to +vote fer a sheriff that's got disgression an' common sense." And with +ludicrous alacrity, the deputy scrambled from the platform and +disappeared into the deep blackness of the lumber-yard. + +The Texan fitted the key into the huge padlock and a moment later the +door swung open and a dozen cowpunchers swarmed in. + +"Come on, pilgrim, an' try on yer necktie!" + +"We'll prob'ly have to haul down all them wool-sacks an' drag him out +from behind 'em." + +"I think not. If I am the man you want I think you will find me +perfectly able to walk." The pilgrim stood leaning against one of the +wooden supporting posts, and as a cowboy thrust the lantern into his +face he noted the eyes never faltered. + +"Come along with us!" commanded the puncher, gruffly, as another +stepped up and slipped the noose of a lariat-rope over his head. + +"So I am to be lynched, am I?" asked the pilgrim in a matter-of-fact +tone, as with a cowboy on either side he was hurried across the +platform and onto a horse. + +"This ain't no time to talk," growled another. "We'll give you a +chanct to empty yer chest 'fore we string you up." + +In the moonlight the prisoner's face showed very pale, but the cow-men +saw that his lips were firmly set, and the hands that caught up the +bridle reins did not falter. As the cavalcade started out upon the +trail the Texan turned back, and riding swiftly to the hotel, found Bat +waiting. + +"You go in to Number 11 and tell the girl you're ready to start." + +"You'm mean de pilgrim's girl?" + +The Texan frowned and swore under his breath: "She ain't the pilgrim's +girl, yet--by a damn sight! You take her an' the pack horse an' hit +down the river an' cut up through old man Lee's horse ranch onto the +bench. Then hit for Snake Creek crossin' an' wait for me." + +The half-breed nodded, and the Texan's frown deepened as he leaned +closer. "An' you see that you get her through safe an' sound or I'll +cut off them ears of yours an' stake you out in a rattlesnake den to +think it over." The man grinned and the frown faded from the Texan's +face. "You got to do me a good turn, Bat. Remember them four bits in +Las Vegas!" + +"A'm tak' de girl to Snake Creek crossin' a'right; you'm don' need for +be 'fraid for dat." + +The cowpuncher whirled and spurred his horse to overtake the cowboys +who, with the prisoner in charge, were already well out upon the trail. + +In front of the hotel the half-breed watched the flying horseman until +he disappeared from sight. + +"A'm wonder if dat girl be safe wit' him, lak' she is wit' me--_bien_. +A'm t'ink mebbe-so dat damn good t'ing ol' Bat goin' long. If she damn +fine girl mebbe-so Tex, he goin' mar' her. Dat be good t'ing. But, by +Gar! if he don' mar' her, he gon' leave her 'lone. Me--A'm lak' dat +Tex fine, lak' me own brudder. He got de good heart. But w'en he +drink de hooch, den A'm got for look after him. He don' care wan damn +'bout nuttin'. Dat four bit in Las Vegas, dats a'right. A'm fink +'bout dat, too. But, by Gar, it tak' more'n four bit in Las Vegas for +mak' of Bat let dat girl git harm." + + +An atmosphere of depression pervaded the group of riders as they wound +in and out of the cottonwood clumps and threaded the deep coulee that +led to the bench. For the most part they preserved an owlish silence, +but now and then someone would break into a low, weird refrain and the +others would join in with the mournful strain of "The Dying Cowboy." + + "Oh, bury me not on the lone prairie-e-e, + Where the coyote howls and the wind blows free." + +Or the dirge-like wail of the "Cowboy's Lament": + + "Then swing your rope slowly and rattle your spurs lowly, + And give a wild whoop as you carry me along: + And in the grave throw me and roll the sod o'er me, + For I'm only a cowboy that knows he's done wrong." + +"Shall we take him to Lone Tree Coulee?" asked one. Another answered +disdainfully. + +"Don't you know the lone tree's dead? Jest shrivelled up an' died +after Bill Atwood was hung onto it. Some augers he worn't guilty. But +it's better to play safe, an' string up all the doubtful ones, then yer +bound to git the right one onct in a while." + +"Swing over into Buffalo Coulee," commanded Tex. "There's a bunch of +cottonwoods just above Hansen's old sheep ranch." + + "We'll string him up to a cottonwood limb + An' dig his grave in under him----" + +"Shut up!" ordered Curly, favouring the singer with a scowl. "Any one +would think you was joyous-minded, which this here hangin' a man is +plumb serious business, even if it hain't only a pilgrim!" + +He edged his horse in beside the Texan's. "He don't seem tore up with +terror, none. D'you think he's onto the racket?" + +Tex shook his head, and with his eyes on the face of the prisoner which +showed very white in the moonlight, rode on in silence. + +"You mean you think he's jest nach'ly got guts--an' him a pilgrim?" + +"How the hell do I know what he's got?" snapped the other. "Can't you +wait till we get to Buffalo?" + +Curly allowed his horse to fall back a few paces. "First time I ever +know'd Tex to pack a grouch," he mused, as his lips drew into a grin. +"He's sore 'cause the pilgrim hain't a-snifflin' an' a-carryin'-on an' +tryin' to beg off. Gosh! If he turns out to be a reg'lar hand, an' +steps up an' takes his medicine like a man, the joke'll be on Tex. The +boys never will quit joshin' him--an' he knows it. No wonder he's +sore." + +The cowboys rode straight across the bench. Song and conversation had +ceased and the only sounds were the low clink of bit chains and the +soft rustle of horses' feet in the buffalo grass. At the end of an +hour the leaders swung into an old grass-grown trail that led by +devious windings into a deep, steep-sided coulee along the bottom of +which ran the bed of a dried-up creek. Water from recent rains stood +in brackish pools. Remnants of fence with rotted posts sagging from +rusty wire paralleled their course. A dilapidated cross-fence barred +their way, and without dismounting, a cowboy loosened the wire gate and +threw it aside. + +A deserted log-house, windowless, with one corner rotted away, and the +sod roof long since tumbled in, stood upon a treeless bend of the dry +creek. Abandoned implements littered the dooryard; a rusted hay rake +with one wheel gone, a broken mower with cutter-bar drunkenly erect, +and the front trucks of a dilapidated wagon. + +The Texan's eyes rested sombrely upon the remnant of a rocking-horse, +still hitched by bits of weather-hardened leather to a child's +wheelbarrow whose broken wheel had once been the bottom of a wooden +pail--and he swore, softly. + +Up the creek he could see the cottonwood grove just bursting into leaf +and as they rounded the corner of a long sheep-shed, whose soggy straw +roof sagged to the ground, a coyote, disturbed in his prowling among +the whitening bones of dead sheep, slunk out of sight in a weed-patch. + +Entering the grove, the men halted at a point where the branches of +three large trees interlaced. It was darker, here. The moonlight +filtered through in tiny patches which brought out the faces of the men +with grotesque distinctness and plunged them again into blackness. + +Gravely the Texan edged his horse to the side of the pilgrim. + +"Get off!" he ordered tersely, and Endicott dismounted. + +"Tie his hands!" A cowboy caught the man's hands behind him and +secured them with a lariat-rope. + +The Texan unknotted the silk muffler from about his neck and folded it. + +"If it is just the same to you," the pilgrim asked, in a voice that +held firm, "will you leave that off?" + +Without a word the muffler was returned to its place. + +"Throw the rope over that limb--the big one that sticks out this way," +ordered the Texan, and a cowpuncher complied. + +"The knot had ort to come in under his left ear," suggested one, and +proceeded to twist the noose into place. + +"All ready!" + +A dozen hands grasped the end of the rope. + +The Texan surveyed the details critically: + +"This here is a disagreeable job," he said. "Have you got anything to +say?" + +Endicott took a step forward, and as he faced the Texan, his eyes +flashed. "Have I got anything to say!" he sneered. "Would you have +anything to say if a bunch of half-drunken fools decided to take the +law into their own hands and hang you for defending a woman against the +brutal attack of a fiend?" He paused and wrenched to free his hands +but the rope held firm. "It was a wise precaution you took when you +ordered my hands tied--a precaution that fits in well with this whole +damned cowardly proceeding. And now you ask me if I have anything to +say!" He glanced into the faces of the cowboys who seemed to be +enjoying the situation hugely. + +"I've got this to say--to you, and to your whole bunch of grinning +hyenas: If you expect me to do any begging or whimpering, you are in +for a big disappointment. There is one request I am going to make--and +that you won't grant. Just untie my hands for ten minutes and stand up +to me bare-fisted. I want one chance before I go, to fight you, or any +of you, or all of you! Or, if you are afraid to fight that way, give +me a pistol--I never fired one until tonight--and let me shoot it out +with you. Surely men who swagger around with pistols in their belts, +and pride themselves on the use of them, ought not to be afraid to take +a chance against a man who has never but once fired one!" There was an +awkward pause and the pilgrim laughed harshly: "There isn't an ounce of +sporting blood among you! You hunt in packs like the wolves you +are--twenty to one--and that one with a rope around his neck and his +hands tied!" + +"The odds is a little against you," drawled the Texan. "Where might +you hail from?" + +"From a place where they breed men--not curs." + +"Ain't you afraid to die?" + +"Just order your hounds to jerk on that rope and I'll show you whether +or not I am afraid to die. But let me tell you this, you damned +murderer! If any harm comes to that girl--to Miss Marcum--may the +curse of God follow every last one of you till you are damned in a +fiery hell! You will kill me now, but you won't be rid of me. I'll +haunt you every one to your graves. I will follow you night and day +till your brains snap and you go howling to hell like maniacs." + +Several of the cowboys shuddered and turned away. Very deliberately +the Texan rolled a cigarette. + +"There is a box in my coat pocket, will you hand me one? Or is it +against the rules to smoke?" Without a word the Texan complied, and as +he held a match to the cigarette he stared straight into the man's +eyes: "You've started out good," he remarked gravely. "I'm just +wonderin' if you can play your string out." With which enigmatical +remark he turned to the cowboys: "The drinks are on me, boys. Jerk off +that rope, an' go back to town! An' remember, this lynchin' come off +as per schedule." + +Alone in the cottonwood grove, with little patches of moonlight +filtering through onto the new-sprung grass, the two men faced each +other. Without a word the cowboy freed the prisoner's hands. + +"Viewin' it through a lariat-loop, that way, the country looks better +to a man than what it really is," he observed, as the other stretched +his arms above his head. + +"What is the meaning of all this? The lynching would have been an +atrocious injustice, but if you did not intend to hang me why should +you have taken the trouble to bring me out here?" + +"'Twasn't no trouble at all. The main thing was to get you out of Wolf +River. The lynchin' part was only a joke, an' that's on us. You bein' +a pilgrim, that way, we kind of thought----" + +"A what?" + +"A pilgrim, or tenderfoot, or greener or chechako, or counter-jumper, +owin' to what part of the country you misfit into. We thought you +wouldn't have no guts, an' we'd----" + +"Any what?" + +The Texan regarded the other hopelessly. "Oh hell!" he muttered +disgustedly. "Can't you talk no English? Where was you raised?" + +The other laughed. "Go on, I will try to follow you." + +"I can't chop 'em up no finer than one syllable. But I'll shorten up +the dose sufficient for your understandin' to grasp. It's this way: +D'you know what a frame-up is?" + +Endicott nodded. + +"Well, Choteau County politics is in such a condition of onwee that a +hangin' would be a reg'lar tonic for the party that's in; which it's +kind of bogged down into an old maid's tea party. Felonious +takin's-off has be'n common enough, but there hasn't no hangin's +resulted, for the reason that in every case the hangee has got friends +or relations of votin' influence. Now, along comes you without no +votin' connections an' picks off Purdy, which he's classed amongst +human bein's, an' is therefore felonious to kill. There ain't nothin' +to it. They'd be poundin' away on the scaffold an' testin' the rope +while the trial was goin' on. Besides which you'd have to linger in a +crummy jail for a couple of months waitin' for the grand jury to set on +you. A few of us boys seen how things was framed an' we took the +liberty to turn you loose, not because we cared a damn about you, but +we'd hate to see even a snake hung fer killin' Purdy which his folks +done a wrong to humanity by raisin' him. + +"The way the thing is now, if the boys plays the game accordin' to +Hoyle, there won't be no posses out huntin' you 'cause folks will all +think you was lynched. But even if they is a posse or two, which the +chances is there will be, owin' to the loosenin' effect of spiritorious +licker on the tongue, which it will be indulged in liberal when that +bunch hits town, we can slip down into the bad lands an' lay low for a +while, an' then on to the N. P. an' you can get out of the country." + +Endicott extended his hand: "I thank you," he said. "It is certainly +white of you boys to go out of your way to help a perfect stranger. I +have no desire to thrust my neck into a noose to further the ends of +politics. One experience of the kind is quite sufficient." + +"Never mind oratin' no card of thanks. Just you climb up into the +middle of that bronc an' we'll be hittin' the trail. We got quite some +ridin' to do before we get to the bad lands--an' quite some after." + +Endicott reached for the bridle reins of his horse which was cropping +grass a few feet distant. + +"But Alice--Miss Marcum!" With the reins in his hand he faced the +Texan. "I must let her know I am safe. She will think I have been +lynched and----" + +"She's goin' along," interrupted the Texan, gruffly. + +"Going along!" + +"Yes, she was bound to see you through because what you done was on her +account. Bat an' her'll be waitin' for us at Snake Creek crossin'." + +"Who is Bat?" + +"He's a breed." + +"A what?" + +"Wait an' see!" growled Tex. "Come on; we can't set here 'til you get +educated. You'd ought to went to school when you was young." + +Endicott reached for a stirrup and the horse leaped sidewise with a +snort of fear. Again and again the man tried to insert a foot into the +broad wooden stirrup, but always the horse jerked away. Round and +round in a circle they went, while the Texan sat in his saddle and +rolled a cigarette. + +"Might try the other one," he drawled, as he struck a match. "Don't +you know no better than to try to climb onto a horse on the right-hand +side? You must of be'n brought up on G-Dots." + +"What's a G-Dot?" + +"There you go again. Do I look like a school-marm? A G-Dot is an +Injun horse an' you can get on 'em from both sides or endways. Come +on; Snake Creek crossin' is a good fifteen miles from here, an' we +better pull out of this coulee while the moon holds." + +Endicott managed to mount, and gathering up the reins urged his horse +forward. But the animal refused to go and despite the man's utmost +efforts, backed farther and farther into the brush. + +"Just shove on them bridle reins a little," observed the Texan dryly. +"I think he's swallerin' the bit. What you got him all yanked in for? +D'you think the head-stall won't hold the bit in? Or ain't his mouth +cut back far enough to suit you? These horses is broke to be rode with +a loose rein. Give him his head an' he'll foller along." + +A half-mile farther up the coulee, the Texan headed up a ravine that +led to the level of the bench, and urging his horse into a long +swinging trot, started for the mountains. Mile after mile they rode, +the cowboy's lips now and then drawing into their peculiar smile as, +out of the corner of his eye he watched the vain efforts of his +companion to maintain a firm seat in the saddle. "He's game, though," +he muttered, grudgingly. "He rides like a busted wind-mill an' it must +be just tearin' hell out of him but he never squawks. An' the way he +took that hangin'---- If he'd be'n raised right he'd sure made some +tough hand. An' pilgrim or no pilgrim, the guts is there." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE FLIGHT + +When the Texan had departed Bat Lajune eyed the side-saddle with +disgust. "Dat damn t'ing, she ain' no good. A'm git de reg'lar +saddle." + +Slowly he pushed open the side door of the hotel and paused in the +darkened hallway to stare at the crack of yellow light that showed +beneath the door of Number 11. + +"A'm no lak' dis fool 'roun' wit' 'omen." He made a wry face and +knocked gingerly. + +Jennie Dodds opened the door, and for a moment eyed the half-breed with +frowning disfavour. + +"Look a here, Bat Lajune, is this on the level? They say you're the +squarest Injun that ever swung a rope. But Injun or white, you're a +man, an' I wouldn't trust one as far as I could throw a mule by the +tail." + +"Mebbe-so you lak' you com' 'long an' see, eh?" + +"I got somethin' else to do besides galavantin' 'round the country +nights with cowboys an' Injuns." + +The half-breed laughed and turned to Alice. "Better you bor' some +pants for ride de horse. Me, A'm gon' git nudder saddle. 'Fore you +ride little ways you bre'k you back." + +"Go over to the livery barn an' tell Ross to put my reg'lar saddle on +in place of the side-saddle, an' when you come back she'll be ready." +Jennie Dodds slipped from the room as the outer door closed upon the +half-breed's departure, and returned a few minutes later with her own +riding outfit, which she tossed onto the bed. + +"Jest you climb into them, dearie," she said. "Bat's right. Them +side-saddles is sure the dickens an' all, if you got any ways to go." + +"But," objected Alice, "I can't run off with all your things this way!" +She reached for her purse. "I'll tell you, I'll buy them from you, +horse and all!" + +"No you won't, no such thing!" Jennie Dodds assumed an injured tone. +"Pity a body can't loan a friend nuthin' without they're offered to git +payed for it. You can send the clothes back when you're through with +'em. An' here's a sack. Jest stick what you need in that. It'll tie +on behind your saddle, an' you can leave the rest of your stuff here in +your grip an I'll ship it on when you're ready for it. Better leave +them night-gowns an' corsets an' such like here. You ain't goin' to +find no use for 'em out there amongst the prickly pears an' sage brush. +Law me! I don't envy you your trip none! I'd jest like to know what +for devilment that Tex Benton's up to. Anyways, you don't need to be +afraid of him--like Purdy. But men is men, an' you got to watch 'em." + +As the girl chattered on she helped Alice to dress for the trail and +when the "war-bag" was packed and tied with a stout cord, the girl +crossed to the window and drew back the shade. + +"The Injun's back. You better be goin'." The girl slipped a small +revolver from her pocket and pressed it into Alice's hand. "There's a +pocket for it in the bloomers. Cinnabar Joe give it to me a long time +ago. Take care of yourself an' don't be afraid to use it if you have +to. An' mind you let me hear jest the minute you git anywheres. I'll +be a-dyin' to know what become of you." + +Alice promised and as she passed through the door, leaned swiftly and +kissed the girl squarely upon the lips. + +"Good-bye," she whispered. "I won't forget you," and the next moment +she stepped out to join the waiting half-breed, who with a glance of +approval at her costume, took the bag from her hand and proceeded to +secure it behind the cantle. The girl mounted without assistance, and +snubbing the lead-rope of the pack-horse about the horn of his saddle, +the half-breed led off into the night. + +Hour after hour they rode in silence, following a trail that wound in +easy curves about the bases of hillocks and small buttes, and dipped +and slanted down the precipitous sides of deep coulees where the +horses' feet splashed loudly in the shallow waters of fords. As the +moon dipped lower and lower, they rode past the darkened buildings of +ranches nestled beside the creeks, and once they passed a band of sheep +camped near the trail. The moonlight showed a sea of grey, woolly +backs, and on a near-by knoll stood a white-covered camp-wagon, with a +tiny lantern burning at the end of the tongue. A pair of hobbled +horses left off snipping grass beside the trail and gazed with mild +interest as the two passed, and beneath the wagon a dog barked. At +length, just as the moon sank from sight behind the long spur of Tiger +Butte, the trail slanted into a wide coulee from the bottom of which +sounded the tinkle of running water. + +"Dis Snake Creek," remarked the Indian; "better you git off now an' +stretch you leg. Me, A'm mak' de blanket on de groun' an' you ketch-um +little sleep. Mebbe-so dem com' queek--mebbe-so long tam'." + +Even as he talked the man spread a pair of new blankets beside the +trail and walking a short distance away seated himself upon a rock and +lighted a cigarette. + +With muscles aching from the unaccustomed strain of hours in the +saddle, Alice threw herself upon the blankets and pillowed her head on +the slicker that the half-breed had folded for the purpose. Almost +immediately she fell asleep only to awake a few moments later with +every bone in her body registering an aching protest at the unbearable +hardness of her bed. In vain she turned from one side to the other, in +an effort to attain a comfortable position. With nerves shrieking at +each new attitude, all thought of sleep vanished and the girl's brain +raced madly over the events of the past few hours. Yesterday she had +sat upon the observation platform of the overland train and complained +to Endicott of the humdrum conventionality of her existence! Only +yesterday--and it seemed weeks ago. The dizzy whirl of events that had +snatched her from the beaten path and deposited her somewhere out upon +the rim of the world had come upon her so suddenly and with such +stupendous import that it beggared any attempt to forecast its outcome. +With a shudder she recalled the moment upon the verge of the bench when +in a flash she had realized the true character of Purdy and her own +utter helplessness. With a great surge of gratitude--and--was it only +gratitude--this admiration and pride in the achievement of the man who +had rushed to her rescue? Alone there in the darkness the girl flushed +to the roots of her hair as she realized that it was for this man she +had unhesitatingly and unquestioningly ridden far into the night in +company with an unknown Indian. Realized, also, that above the pain of +her tortured muscles, above the uncertainty of her own position, was +the anxiety and worry as to the fate of Endicott. Where was he? Had +Tex lied when he told her there would be no lynching? Even if he +desired could he prevent the cowboys from wreaking their vengeance upon +the man who had killed one of their number? She recalled with a +shudder the cold cynicism of the smile that habitually curled the lips +of the Texan. A man who could smile like that could lie--could do +anything to gain an end. And yet--she realized with a puzzled frown +that in her heart was no fear of him--no terror such as struck into her +very soul at the sudden unmasking of Purdy. "It's his eyes," she +murmured; "beneath his cynical exterior lies a man of finer fibre." + +Some distance away a match flared in the darkness and went out, and +dimly by the little light of the stars Alice made out the form of the +half-breed seated upon his rock beside the trail. Motionless as the +rock itself the man sat humped over with his arms entwining his knees. +A sombre figure, and one that fitted intrinsically into the scene--the +dark shapes of the three horses that snipped grass beside the trail, +the soft murmur of the waters of the creek as they purled over the +stones, the black wall of the coulee, with the mountains rising +beyond--all bespoke the wild that since childhood she had pictured, but +never before had seen. Under any other circumstances the setting would +have appealed, would have thrilled her to the soul. But now--over and +over through her brain repeated the question: Where is he? + +A horse nickered softly and raising his head, sniffed the night air. +The Indian stepped from his rock and stood alert with his eyes on the +reach of the back-trail. And then softly, almost inaudibly to the ears +of the girl came the sound of horses' hoofs pounding the trail in +monotonous rhythm. + +Leaping to her feet she rushed forward in time to see Bat catch up the +reins of the three horses and slip noiselessly into the shelter of a +bunch of scrub willows. In a moment she was at his side and the Indian +thrust the reins into her hand. + +"Better you wait here," he whispered hurriedly. "Mebbe-so, som'wan +else com' 'long. Me, A'm gon' for look." With the words the man +blended into the shadows and, clutching the reins, the girl waited with +every nerve drawn tense. + +Nearer and nearer came the sound of the thudding hoofs. The riders had +reached the dip of the trail now and the rhythmic pound of the horses' +feet changed to a syncopated shuffle as the animals made the steep +descent. At the edge of the creek they paused for a moment and then +Alice, could hear the splash of their feet in the water and the deep +sucking sound of horses drinking. + +A low peculiar whistle cut the air and the next moment a voice which +the girl recognized as the Texan's sounded plainly through the dark. + +"You got here, did you? Where's the girl?" Alice could not catch the +answer but at the next words of the Texan she started forward tugging +at the reins of the refractory cayuses. + +"Come alive, now, an' get your outfit together. There's prob'ly a big +posse out an' we got to scratch gravel some lively to keep ahead of +'em, which little item the future prosperity of all concerned, as the +fellow says, depends on--not only the hangee here, but us accessories, +the law bein' some specific in outlinin' the disposal of aiders an' +abettors of felonious transmigrations." + +The half-breed relieved her of the horses and Alice rushed to the side +of Endicott who had reined his horse out of the water and dismounted +stiffly. + +"Oh, Winthrop!" she cried joyfully. "Then they didn't hang you, +and----" + +Endicott laughed: "No, they didn't hang me but they put a lot of local +colour into the preliminaries. I certainly thought my time had come, +when friend Tex here gave the word to throw off the rope." The girl +flashed a grateful glance into the face of the Texan who sat his horse +with the peculiar smile curling his lips. + +"Oh, how can I ever thank you?" she cried impulsively. "I think you +are just _splendid_! And I'll never, _never_ distrust you again. I've +been a perfect fool and----" + +"Yes," answered the man gruffly, and Alice noticed that the smile was +gone from his lips. "But you ain't out of the woods yet. Bat's got +that horse packed an' as soon as Winthrup, there, can crawl up the side +of that bronc we better be hittin' the trail. If we can make the +timber at the head of Cow Creek divide by daylight, we can slip down +into the bad lands tomorrow night." + +Endicott painfully raised a foot to the stirrup, and the Texan turned +abruptly to the girl. + +"Can you make it?" he asked. She replied with an eager affirmative and +the Texan shot her a glance of approval as he watched her mount, for +well he knew that she must have fared very little better than Endicott +in the matter of aching muscles. + +Mile after mile the four rode in silence, Tex in the lead with Bat +Lajune close by his side. An occasional backward glance revealed the +clumsy efforts of the pilgrim to ease himself in the saddle, and the +set look of determination upon the tired face of the girl. + +"Winthrup ain't wearin' well," thought the cowboy as his lips twisted +into a smile, "but what could you expect with a name like that? I'm +afraid Winthrup is goin' to wish I hadn't interfered none with his +demise, but he won't squawk, an' neither will she. There's the makin's +of a couple of good folks wasted in them two pilgrims," and he frowned +darkly at the recollection of the note of genuine relief and gladness +with which the girl had greeted Endicott; a frown that deepened at the +girl's impulsive words to himself, "I think you are just splendid. +I'll never distrust you again." "She's a fool!" he muttered under his +breath. At his side the half-breed regarded him shrewdly from under +the broad brim of his hat. + +"Dat girl she dam' fine 'oman. She got, w'at you call, de nerve." + +"It's a good thing it ain't daytime," growled the Texan surlily, "or +that there tongue of yourn would get sun-burnt the way you keep it +a-goin'." + +Upon the crest of a high foothill that is a spur of Tiger Ridge, Tex +swerved abruptly from the trail and headed straight for the mountains +that loomed out of the darkness. On and on he rode, keeping wherever +possible to the higher levels to avoid the fences of the nesters whose +fields and pastures followed the windings of the creek bottoms. + +Higher and higher they climbed and rougher grew the way. The scrub +willows gave place to patches of bull pine and the long stretches of +buffalo grass to ugly bare patches of black rock. In and out of the +scrub timber they wended, following deep coulees to their sources and +crossing steep-pitched divides into other coulees. The fences of the +nesters were left far behind and following old game trails, or no +trails at all, the Texan pushed unhesitatingly forward. At last, just +as the dim outlines of the mountains were beginning to assume definite +shape in the first faint hint of the morning grey, he pulled into a +more extensive patch of timber than any they had passed and dismounting +motioned the others to the ground. + +While the Texan prepared breakfast, Bat busied himself with the +blankets and when the meal was finished Alice found a tent awaiting +her, which the half-breed had constructed by throwing the pack-tarp +over a number of light poles whose ends rested upon a fallen +tree-trunk. Never in her life, thought the girl, as she sank into the +foot-thick mattress of pine boughs that underlay the blankets, had a +bed felt so comfortable, so absolutely satisfying. But her conscious +enjoyment of its comfort was short-lived for the sounds of men and +horses, and the low soughing of the wind in the pine-tops blended into +one, and she slept. Endicott, too, fell asleep almost as soon as he +touched the blankets which the half-breed had spread for him a short +distance back from the fire, notwithstanding the scant padding of pine +needles that interposed between him and mother earth. + +Beside the fire the half-breed helped Tex wash the dishes, the while he +regarded the cowpuncher shrewdly as if to fathom what was passing in +his mind. + +"Back in Wolf Rivaire, dey t'ink de pilgrim git hang. W'at for dey +mak' de posse?" he asked at length. The Texan finished washing the tin +plates, dried his hands, and rolled a cigarette, which he lighted +deliberately with a brand from the fire. + +"Bat," he said with a glance toward the sleeping Endicott, "me an' you +has be'n right good friends for quite a spell. You recollect them four +bits, back in Las Vegas--" The half-breed interrupted him with a grin +and reaching into his shirt front withdrew a silver half-dollar which +depended from his neck by a rawhide thong. + +"_Oui_, A'm don' git mooch chance to ferget dat four bit." + +"Well, then, you got to help me through with this here, like I helped +you through when you stole Fatty's horse." The half-breed nodded and +Tex continued: "When that outfit goes up against the Wolf River hooch +you can bet someone's going to leak it out that there wasn't no reg'lar +bony-fido hangin' bee. That'll start a posse, an' that's why we got to +stay _cached_ good an' tight till this kind of blows over an' gives us +a chance to slip acrost the Misszoo. Even if it don't leak out, an' +any one should happen to spot the pilgrim, that would start a posse, +_pronto_, an' we'd get ours for helpin' him to elope." + +"'Spose dey git de pilgrim," persisted the half-breed, "de, w'at you +call, de jury, dey say 'turn 'um loose' 'cause he keel dat Purdy for +try to----" + +Tex hurled his cigarette into the blaze. "You're a damn smart Injun, +ain't you? Well, you just listen to me. I'm runnin' this here little +outfit, an' there's reasons over an' above what I've orated, why the +pilgrim is goin' to be treated to a good lib'ral dose of the rough +stuff. If he comes through, he'll stack up pretty close to a top hand, +an' if he don't--" The Texan paused and scowled into the fire. "An' +if he don't it's his own damn fault, anyhow--an' there you are." + +The half-breed nodded, and in the dark eyes the Texan noted a +half-humorous, half-ominous gleam; "Dat, w'at you call, '_reason over +an' 'bove_', she damn fine 'oman. A'm t'ink she lak' de pilgrim more'n +you. But mebbe-so you show heem up for w'at you call, de yellow, you +git her 'way, but--me, A'm no lak' I see her git harm." With which +declaration the half-breed rose abruptly and busied himself with the +horses, while the Texan, without bothering to spread his blankets, +pulled his hat over his face and stretched out beside the fire. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A RESCUE + +When Alice Marcum opened her eyes the timber was in darkness. The moon +had not yet topped the divide and through an opening in the trees the +girl could see the dim outlines of an endless sea of peaks and ridges +that stretched away to the eastward. The voice of the Texan sounded in +her ears: "Come alive, now! We got to eat an' pull out of here in an +hour's time if we're goin' to fetch the bad lands by daylight." + +Peering around the edge of her shelter tent she could see him, +coffee-pot in hand, standing beside the tiny flame that licked at the +dry pine shavings of a newly kindled fire. + +He turned and made his way to the creek that burbled over the rocks a +short way down the ravine and Alice drew on her riding-boots and joined +Endicott who had made his way painfully toward the fire where he stood +gazing ruefully at the begrimed wreck of a white collar which he held +in his hand. The Texan returned and placed the coffee-pot close +against the tiny blaze. + +"When you get through invoicin' yer trooso, Winthrup, it wouldn't delay +us none if you'd grasp that there hand-ax an' carve out a little +fire-fodder." He glanced up at Alice. "An' if cookin' of any kind has +be'n inclooded in your repretwa of accomplishments, you might sizzle up +a hunk of that sow-belly, an' keep yer eye on this here pot. An' if +Winthrup should happen to recover from his locomotive attacksyou an' +hack off a limb or two, you can get a little bigger blaze a-goin' an', +just before that water starts to burn, slop in a fistful of java. +You'll find some dough-gods an' salve in one of them canvas bags, an' +when you're all set, holler. I'll throw the kaks on these cayuses, an' +Bat, he can wrastle with the pack." + +Alice looked into the Texan's face with a peculiar little puckering of +the brows, and laughed: "See here, Mr. Tex," she said, "of course, I +know that java must be coffee, but if you will kindly render the rest +of your remarks a little less caliginous by calling the grub by its +Christian name, maybe I'll get along better with the breakfast." + +The Texan was laughing now, a wholesome, hearty laugh in which was no +trace of cynicism, and the girl felt that for the first time she had +caught a glimpse of the real man, the boyish, whole-hearted man that +once or twice before she had suspected existed behind the mask of the +sardonic smile. From that moment she liked him and at the breezy +whimsicality of his next words she decided that it would be well worth +the effort to penetrate the mask. + +"The dude, or dictionary, names for the above specified commodities is +bacon, biscuits, an' butter. An' referrin' back to your own +etymological spasm, the word 'grub' shows a decided improvement over +anything you have uttered previous. I had expected 'food' an' wouldn't +have hardly batted an' eye at 'viands,' an' the caliginous part of it +is good, only, if you aim to obfuscate my convolutions you'll have to +dig a little deeper. Entirely irrelevant to syntax an' the allied +trades, as the feller says, I'll add that them leggin's of yourn is on +the wrong legs, an' here comes Winthrup with a chip." + +Turning abruptly, the man made his way toward the horses, and as +Endicott approached with an armful of firewood, the contrast between +the men was brought sharply to the girl's notice. The Texan, easy and +lithe of movement as an animal born to the wild, the very tilt of his +soft-brimmed hat and the set of his clothing bespeaking conscious +mastery of his environment--a mastery that the girl knew was not +confined to the subduing of wild cattle and horses and the following of +obscure trails in the nighttime. Never for a moment had the air of +self-confidence deserted him. With the same easy assurance that he had +flung his loop about the shoulders of the Mayor of Wolf River he had +carried off the honours of the tournament, insulted Purdy to his face, +dictated to the deputy sheriff, and planned and carried out the release +of Endicott from the grip of the law. And what was most surprising of +all, never had he shown a trace of the boorish embarrassment or +self-consciousness which, up to the moment of his brutal attack upon +her, had characterized the attitude of Purdy. And the girl realized +that beneath his picturesque slurring and slashing of English, was a +familiarity with words that had never been picked up in the cow-country. + +Endicott tossed down his wood, and Alice could not help but notice the +sorry appearance of the erstwhile faultlessly dressed gentleman who +stood collarless and unshaven, the once delicately lined silk shirt +filthy with trail dust, and the tailored suit wrinkled and misshapen as +the clothing of a tramp. She noted, too, that his movements were +awkward and slow with the pain of overtaxed muscles, and that the stiff +derby hat he had been forced to jam down almost to the tops of his ears +had left a grimy red band across his forehead. She smiled as her eyes +swept the dishevelled and uncouth figure. + +"I am glad," said Endicott with asperity, as he brushed the dirt and +bits of bark from his coat, "that you find the situation so humorous. +It must be highly gratifying to know that it is of your own making." + +The tone roused the girl's anger and she glanced up as she finished +lacing her leggings. + +"Yes," she answered, sweetly, "it is--very. And one of the most +amusing features is to watch how a man's disposition crabs with the +mussing of his clothing. No wonder the men who live out here wear +things that won't muss, or there wouldn't be but one left and he'd be +just a concentrated chunk of unadulterated venom. Really, Winthrop, +you do look horrid, and your disposition is perfectly nasty. But, +cheer up, the worst is yet to come, and if you will go down to the +creek and wash your hands, you can come back and help me with the grub. +You can get busy and dig the dough-gods and salve out of that sack +while I sizzle up the sow-belly." + +Endicott regarded her with a frown of disapproval: "Why this +preposterous and vulgar talk?" + +"Adaptability to environment," piped the girl, glibly. "You can't get +along by speaking New York in Montana, any easier than you can with +English in Cincinnati." + +Endicott turned away with a sniff of disgust, and the girl's lips drew +into a smile which she meant to be an exact replica of the Texan's as +she proceeded to slice strips of bacon into the frying-pan. + +The meal was a silent affair, and during its progress the moon rose +clear of the divide and hung, a great orange ball, above the high-flung +peaks. Almost simultaneously with the rising of the moon, the wind +rose, and scuds of cloud-vapour passed, low down, blurring the higher +peaks. + +"We got to get a move on," opined the Texan, with an eye on the clouds. +"Throw them dishes into the pack the way they are, an' we'll clean 'em +when we've got more time. There's a storm brewin' west of here an' we +want to get as far as we can before she hits." + +By the time the others were in the saddle, Bat was throwing the final +hitch on his pack outfit, and with the Texan in the lead, the little +cavalcade headed southward. + +An hour's climb, during which they skirted patches of scrub pine, +clattered over the loose rocks of ridges, and followed narrow, +brush-choked coulees to their sources, found them on the crest of the +Cow Creek divide. + +The wind, blowing half a gale from the south-east, whipped about their +faces and roared and whistled among the rocks and scrub timber. +Alice's eyes followed the Texan's glance toward the west and there, low +down on the serried horizon she could see the black mass of a cloud +bank. + +"You can't tell nothin' about those thunderheads. They might hold off +'til along towards mornin', they might pile up on us in an hour, and +they might not break at all," vouchsafed the man, as Alice reined in +her horse close beside his. + +"But the wind is from the other direction!" + +"Yes, it generally is when the thunder-storms get in their work. If we +can get past the Johnson fences we can take it easy an' camp most +anywhere when the storm hits, but if we get caught on this side without +no moonlight to travel by an' have to camp over tomorrow in some +coulee, there's no tellin' who'll run onto us. This south slope's +infested some plentiful by the riders of three or four outfits." He +headed his horse down the steep descent, the others following in single +file. + +As the coulee widened Alice found herself riding by the Texan's side. +"Oh, don't you just love the wild country!" she exclaimed, breaking a +long interval of silence. "The plains and the mountains, the woods and +the creeks, and the wonderful air----" + +"An' the rattlesnakes, an' the alkali, an' the soap-holes, an' the +quicksand, an' the cactus, an' the blisterin' sun, an' the lightnin', +an' the rain, an' the snow, an' the ice, an' the sleet----" + +The girl interrupted him with a laugh: "Were you born a pessimist, or +has your pessimism been acquired?" + +The Texan did not lift his eyes from the trail: "Earnt, I reckon, would +be a better word. An' I don't know as it's pessimism, at that, to look +in under the crust of your pie before you bite it. If you'd et flies +for blueberries as long as I have, you'd----" + +"I'd ask for flies, and then if there were any blueberries the surprise +would be a pleasant one." + +"Chances are, there wouldn't be enough berries to surprise you none +pleasant. Anyhow, that would be kind of forcin' your luck. Follerin' +the same line of reasoning a man ort to hunt out a cactus to set on +so's he could be surprised pleasant if it turned out to be a Burbank +one." + +"You're hopeless," laughed the girl. "But look--the moonlight on the +peaks! Isn't it wonderful! See how it distorts outlines, and throws a +mysterious glamour over the dark patches of timber. Corot would have +loved it." + +The Texan shook his head: "No. It wouldn't have got _to him_. He +couldn't never have got into the feel of stuff like that. Meakin did, +and Remington, but it takes old Charlie Russell to pick it right out of +the air an' slop it onto canvas." + +Alice regarded the man in wonder. "You do love it!" she said. "Why +should you be here if you didn't love it?" + +"Bein' a cow-hand, it's easier to make a livin' here than in New York +or Boston. I've never be'n there, but I judge that's the case." + +"But you are a cow-hand from choice. You have an education and you +could----" + +"No. All the education I've got you could pile onto a dime, an' it +wouldn't kill more'n a dozen men. Me an' the higher education flirted +for a couple of years or so, way back yonder in Austin, but owin' to +certain an' sundry eccentricities of mine that was frowned on by +civilization, I took to the brush an' learnt the cow business. Then +after a short but onmonotonous sojourn in Las Vegas, me an' Bat came +north for our health. . . . Here's Johnson's horse pasture. We've got +to slip through here an' past the home ranch in a quiet an' +onobstrusive manner if we aim to preserve the continuity of Winthrup's +spinal column." + +"Can't we go around?" queried the girl. + +"No. The coulee is fenced clean acrost an' way up to where even a goat +couldn't edge past. We've got to slip through. Once we get past the +big reservoir we're all right. I'll scout on ahead." + +The cowboy swung to the ground and threw open the barbed-wire gate. +"Keep straight on through, Bat, unless you hear from me. I'll be +waitin' by the bunk-house. Chances are, them salamanders will all be +poundin' their ear pretty heavy, bein' up all last night to the dance." +He galloped away and the others followed at a walk. For an hour no one +spoke. + +"I thought that fence enclosed a pasture, not a county," growled +Endicott, as he clumsily shifted his weight to bear on a spot less sore. + +"_Oui_, dat hoss pasture she 'bout seven mile long. Den we com' by de +ranch, an' den de reservoir, an' de hay fences." The half-breed opened +a gate and a short distance down the creek Alice made out the dark +buildings of the ranch. As they drew nearer the girl felt her heart +race madly, and the soft thud of the horse's feet on the sod sounded +like the thunder of a cavalry charge. Grim and forbidding loomed the +buildings. Not a light showed, and she pictured them peopled with +lurking forms that waited to leap out as they passed and throttle the +man who had rescued her from the brutish Purdy. She was sorry she had +been nasty to Endicott. She wanted to tell him so, but it was too +late. She thought of the revolver that Jennie had given her, and +slipping her hand into her pocket she grasped it by the butt. At +least, she could do for him what he had done for her. She could shoot +the first man to lay hands on him. + +Suddenly her heart stood still and her lips pressed tight. A rider +emerged from the black shadow of the bunk-house. + +"Hands up!" The girl's revolver was levelled at the man's head, and +the next instant she heard the Texan laugh softly. + +"Just point it the other way, please, if it's loaded. A fellow shot me +with one of those once an' I had a headache all the rest of the +evenin'." His horse nosed in beside hers. "It's just as I thought," +he explained. "Everyone around the outfit's dead to the world. Bein' +up all night dancin', an' most of the next day trailin' home, you +couldn't get 'em up for a poker game--let alone hangin' a pilgrim." + +Alice's fear vanished the moment the Texan appeared. His air of +absolute self-confidence in his ability to handle a situation compelled +the confidence of others. + +"Aren't your nerves ever shaken? Aren't you ever afraid?" she asked. + +Tex smiled: "Nerve ain't in not bein' afraid," he answered evasively, +"but in not lettin' folks know when you're afraid." + +Another gate was opened, and as they passed around the scrub-capped +spur of a ridge that projected into the widening valley, the girl drew +her horse up sharply and pointed ahead. + +"Oh! A little lake!" she cried enthusiastically. "See how the +moonlight shimmers on the tiny waves." + +Heavy and low from the westward came an ominous growl of thunder. + +"Yes. An' there'll be somethin' besides moonlight a-shimmerin' around +here directly. That ain't exactly a lake. It's Johnson's irrigation +reservoir. If we could get about ten miles below here before the storm +hits, we can hole up in a rock cave 'til she blows over. The creek +valley narrows down to a canyon where it cuts through the last ridge of +mountains. + +"Hit 'er up a little, Bat. We'll try an' make the canyon!" + +A flash of lightning illumined the valley, and glancing upward, Alice +saw that the mass of black clouds was almost overhead. The horses were +forced into a run as the hills reverberated to the mighty roll of the +thunder. They were following a well-defined bridle trail and scarcely +slackened their pace as they splashed in and out of the water where the +trail crossed and recrossed the creek. One lightning flash succeeded +another with such rapidity that the little valley was illuminated +almost to the brightness of day, and the thunder reverberated in one +continuous roar. + +With the buildings of Johnson's ranch left safely behind, Alice's +concern for Endicott's well-being cooled perceptibly. + +"He needn't to have been so hateful, just because I laughed at him," +she thought, and winced at a lightning flash. Her lips pressed +tighter. "I hate thunder-storms--to be out in them. I bet we'll all +be soaked and--" There was a blinding flash of light, the whole valley +seemed filled with a writhing, twisting rope of white fire, and the +deafening roar of thunder that came simultaneously with the flash made +the ground tremble. It was as though the world had exploded beneath +their feet, and directly in the forefront the girl saw a tall dead +cottonwood split in half and topple sidewise. And in the same instant +she caught a glimpse of Endicott's face. It was very white. "He's +afraid," she gritted, and at the thought her own fear vanished, and in +its place came a wild spirit of exhilaration. This was life. Life in +the raw of which she had read and dreamed but never before experienced. +Her horse stopped abruptly. The Texan had dismounted and was pulling +at the huge fragment of riven trunk that barred the trail. + +"We'll have to lead 'em around through the brush, there. We can't +budge this boy." + +Scattering rain-drops fell--huge drops that landed with a thud and +splashed broadly. + +"Get out the slickers, Bat. Quick now, or we're in for a wettin'." As +he spoke the man stepped to Alice's side, helped her to the ground, and +loosened the pack-strings of her saddle. A moment later he held a huge +oilskin of brilliant yellow, into the sleeves of which the girl thrust +her arms. There was an odour as of burning sulphur and she sniffed the +air as she buttoned the garment about her throat. + +The Texan grinned: "Plenty close enough I'll say, when you get a whiff +of the hell-fire. Better wait here 'til I find a way through the +brush. An' keep out of reach of the horse's heels with that slicker +on. You can't never trust a cayuse, 'specially when they can't more'n +half see. They're liable to take a crack at you for luck." + +Grasping his bridle reins the Texan disappeared and by the lightning +flashes she could see him forcing his way through the thicket of +willows. The scattering drops changed to a heavy downpour. The +moonlight had long since been obliterated and the short intervals +between the lightning flashes were spaces of intense blackness. A +yellow-clad figure scrambled over the tree trunk and the cowboy took +the bridle reins from her hand. + +"You slip through here. I'll take your horse around." + +On the other side, the cowboy assisted her to mount, and pulling his +horse in beside hers, led off down the trail. The rain steadily +increased in volume until the flashes of lightning showed only a grey +wall of water, and the roar of it blended into the incessant roar of +the thunder. The horses splashed into the creek and wallowed to their +bellies in the swirling water. + +The Texan leaned close and shouted to make himself heard. + +"They don't make 'em any worse than this. I've be'n out in some +considerable rainstorms, take it first an' last, but I never seen it +come down solid before. A fish could swim anywheres through this." + +"The creek is rising," answered the girl. + +"Yes, an' we ain't goin' to cross it many more times. In the canyon +she'll be belly-deep to a giraffe, an' we got to figure a way out of +the coulee 'fore we get to it." + +Alice was straining her ears to catch his words, when suddenly, above +the sound of his voice, above the roar of the rain and the crash and +roll of thunder, came another sound--a low, sullen growl--indefinable, +ominous, terrible. The Texan, too, heard the sound and, jerking his +horse to a standstill, sat listening. The sullen growl deepened into a +loud rumble, indescribably horrible. Alice saw that the Texan's face +was drawn into a tense, puzzled frown. A sudden fear gripped her +heart. She leaned forward and the words fairly shrieked from her lips. + +"It's the reservoir!" + +The Texan whirled to face the others whose horses had crowded close and +stood with drooping heads. + +"The reservoir's let go!" he shouted, and pointed into the grey wall of +water at right angles to their course. "Ride! Ride like hell an' save +yourselves! I'll look after her!" The next instant he whirled his +horse against the girl's. + +"Ride straight ahead!" he roared. "Give him his head an' hang on! +I'll stay at his flank, an' if you go down we'll take a chance +together!" + +Slipping the quirt from the horn of his saddle the cowboy brought it +down across her horse's flank and the animal shot away straight into +the opaque grey wall. Alice gave the horse a loose rein, set her lips, +and gripped the horn of her saddle as the brute plunged on. + +The valley was not wide. They had reached a point where its sides +narrowed to form the mouth of the canyon. The pound of the horse's +feet was lost in the titanic bombilation of the elements--the incessant +crash and rumble of thunder and the ever increasing roar of rushing +waters. At every jump the girl expected her frantic horse to go down, +yet she was conscious of no feeling of fear. She glanced over her +shoulder, but the terrific downpour acted as a curtain through which +her eyes could not penetrate with the aid even of the most vivid +flashes of lightning. Yet she knew that the Texan rode at her flank +and that the others followed--Endicott and Bat, with his pack-horse +close-snubbed to his saddle-horn. Suddenly the girl felt her horse +labouring. His speed slackened perceptibly. As abruptly as it started +the rain stopped; and she saw that water was swirling about his knees. +Saw also by the aid of a lightning flash that throughout its width the +valley was a black sea of tossing water. Before her the bank was very +close and she jerked her horse toward a point where the perpendicular +sides of a cutbank gave place to a narrow plane that slanted steeply +upward. It seemed to the girl that the steep ascent would be +impossible for the horses but it was the only chance. She glanced +backward. The Texan was close behind, and following him were the +others, their horses wallowing to their bellies. She had reached the +hill and so steep was its pitch that her horse seemed perpendicular to +the earth's surface. She leaned over the horn and twisted her fingers +into his mane as the animal, his feet clear of the water, clawed and +scrambled like a cat to gain the top. Another moment and he had pulled +himself over the edge and the girl leaped to the ground. The Texan had +not followed to the top but had halted his horse at the edge of the +water that was mounting steadily higher. Bat swung in with his pack +horse and with his quirt Tex forced them up the embankment. Endicott's +horse was all but swimming. The water came above the man's knees as +the animal fought for footing. The Texan leaned far out and, grasping +the bridle, drew him in to the bank and quirted him to the top. Then, +as the three watched, he headed his own horse upward. Scarcely had the +animal come clear of the water when the eager watchers saw that +something was wrong. + +"De cinch--she bus'!" cried the half-breed excitedly. "Dat dam' Purdy +cut de cinch an' A'm trade Tex mine for ride de outlaw, an' we trade +back. _Voila_!" As the man talked, he jerked the coiled rope from his +saddle and rushed to the edge. Alice, too, crowded to the bank, her +hands tight clenched as she saw the man, the saddle gone from under +him, clinging desperately to the bridle reins, his body awash in the +black waters. Saw also that his weight on the horse's head was causing +the animal to quit the straight climb and to plunge and turn +erratically. It was evident that both horse and rider must be hurled +into the flood. The fury of the storm had passed. The rumble of +thunder was distant now. The flashes of lightning came at greater +intervals, and with a pale glow instead of the dazzling brilliance of +the nearer flashes. Through a great rift in the cloud-bank the moon +showed, calm and serene above the mad rush of black waters. + +For a single instant Alice gazed into the up-turned face of the Texan, +and in that instant she saw his lips curve into the familiar cynical +smile. Then he calmly let go the reins and slipped silently beneath +the black water, as the released horse scrambled to the top. Beside +her, Endicott uttered an oath and, tearing at the buttons of his +slicker, dashed the garment to the ground. His coat followed, and +stooping he tore the shoes from his feet and poised on the very edge of +the flood. With a cry she sprang to his side and gripped his arm, but +without a word he shook her roughly away, and as a dark form appeared +momentarily upon the surface of the flood he plunged in. + +Alice and Bat watched as the moonlight showed the man swimming with +strong, sure strokes toward the spot where a moment before the dark +form had appeared upon the surface. Then he dived, and the +swift-rushing water purled and gurgled as it closed over the spot where +he had been. Rope in hand, Bat, closely followed by the girl, ran +along the edge of the bank, both straining their eyes for the first +sign of movement upon the surface of the flood. Would he never come +up? The slope up which the horses had scrambled steepened into a +perpendicular cut-bank at no great distance below, and if the current +bore the two men past that point the girl knew instinctively that +rescue would be impossible and they would be swept into the vortex of +the canyon. + +There was a cry from Bat, and Alice, struggling to keep up, caught a +blur of motion upon the surface some distance below. A few steps +brought them opposite to the point, where, scarcely thirty feet from +the bank, two forms were struggling violently. Suddenly an arm raised +high, and a doubled fist crashed squarely against the jaw of a white, +upturned face. The half-breed poised an instant and threw his rope. +The wide loop fell true and a moment later Endicott succeeded in +passing it under the arms of the unconscious Texan. Then the rope drew +taut and the halfbreed braced to the pull as the men were forced +shoreward by the current. + +With a cry of relief, Alice rushed to the aid of the half-breed, and +grasping the rope, threw her weight into the pull. But her relief was +short-lived, for when the forms in the water touched shore it was to +brush against the side of the cut-bank with tea feet of perpendicular +wall above them. And worse than, that, unhardened to the wear of +water, the bank was caving off in great chunks as the current gnawed at +its base. A section weighing tons let go with a roar only a few yards +below, and Bat and the girl worked as neither had ever worked before to +tow their burden upstream to the sloping bank. But the force of the +current and the conformation of the bank, which slanted outward at an +angle that diminished the force of the pull by half, rendered their +efforts in vain. + +"You stan' back!" ordered Bat sharply, as a section of earth gave way +almost beneath their feet, but the girl paid no attention, and the two +redoubled their efforts. + +In the water, Endicott took in the situation at a glance. He realized +that the strain of the pull was more than the two could overcome. +Realized also that each moment added to the Jeopardy of the half-breed +and the girl. There was one chance--and only one. Relieved of his +weight, the unresisting form of the Texan could be dragged to +safety--and he would take that chance. + +"_Non_! _Non_!" The words were fairly hurled from the half-breed's +lips, as he seemed to divine what was passing in Endicott's mind. But +Endicott gave no heed. Deliberately he let go the rope and the next +moment was whirled from sight, straight toward the seething vortex of +the canyon, where the moonlight revealed dimly in the distance only a +wild rush of lashing waters and the thrashing limbs of uprooted trees. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +TEX DOES SOME SCOUTING + +The moon hung low over the peaks to the westward when the Texan opened +his eyes. For some moments he stared about him in bewilderment, his +gaze travelling slowly from the slicker-clad form of the girl, who sat +close beside him with her face buried in her arms, to the little group +of horses that stood huddled dejectedly together. With an effort he +struggled to his elbow, and at the movement, the girl raised her head +and turned a very white face toward him. + +Shivering with cold, the Texan raised himself to a sitting posture. +"Where's Bat?" he asked. "An' why ain't he onsaddled those horses, an' +built a fire? I'm froze stiff." + +"Bat has gone to--to find Winthrop," answered the girl, with a painful +catch in her voice. "He wouldn't wait, and I had no matches, and yours +were all wet, and I couldn't loosen the cinches." + +Tex passed his hand over his forehead, as if trying to remember, and +his fingers prodded tenderly at his jaw. "I recollect bein' in the +water, an' the pilgrim was there, an' we were scrappin' an' he punched +me in the jaw. He carries a whallop up his sleeve like the kick of a +mule. But what we was scrappin' about, an' where he is now, an' how I +come here, is somethin' I don't savvy." + +Step by step the girl detailed what had happened while the Texan +listened in silence. "And now," she concluded, "he's gone. Just +when--" her voice broke and once more she buried her face in her arms. +Tex saw that she was sobbing silently. He felt for his "makings" and +drew from his pocket a little sack of soggy tobacco and some wet +papers. He returned them to his pocket and rose to his feet. + +"You're cold," he said softly. "There's dry matches in the pack. I'll +make a fire an' get those wet saddles off the horses." + +Alice did not look up and the man busied himself with the pack. A few +minutes later she felt his fingers upon her shoulder. He pointed +toward a fire that crackled cheerfully from the depths of a bull pine +thicket. "I fixed you up a shelter tent and spread your blankets. The +tarp kep' 'em tolerable dry. Go over there an' get off those clothes. +You must be wet through--nothin' short of a divin' suit would have kep' +that rain out!" + +"But----" + +He forestalled the objection. "There won't be any one to bother you. +I'm goin' down the creek." + +The girl noticed that his horse, saddled with Endicott's saddle stood +close behind her. + +"I didn't mean that!" she exclaimed. "But you are cold--chilled to the +bone. You need the fire more than I do." + +The man shook his head: "I'll be goin' now," he said. "You'd better +make you some coffee." + +"You're going to--to----" + +Tex nodded: "Yes. To find the pilgrim. If he's alive I'll find him. +An' if he ain't I'll find him. An' when I do, I'll bring him back to +you." He turned abruptly, swung onto his horse, and Alice watched him +as he disappeared down the valley, keeping to the higher ground. Not +until she was alone did the girl realize how miserably cold and +uncomfortable she was. She rose stiffly, and walking slowly to the +edge of the bank, looked out over the little valley. The great +reservoir had run out in that first wild rush of water and now the last +rays of moonlight showed only wide, glistening pools, and the creek +subsided to nearly its normal proportions. With a shudder she turned +toward the fire. Its warmth felt grateful. She removed the slicker +and riding costume and, wrapping herself, squaw-like, in a blanket, sat +down in the little shelter tent. She found that the Texan had filled +the coffee pot and, throwing in some coffee, she set it to boil. + +"He's so thoughtful, and self-reliant, and--and competent," she +murmured. "And he's brave, and--and picturesque. Winthrop is brave, +too--just as brave as he is, but--he isn't a bit picturesque." She +relapsed into silence as she rummaged in the bag for a cup, and the +sugar, and a can of milk. The moon sank behind the ridge and the girl +replenished her fire from the pile of wood the Texan had left within +reach of her hand. She drank her coffee and her eyes sought to +penetrate the blackness beyond the firelight. Somewhere out there in +the dark--she shuddered as she attempted to visualize _what_ was +somewhere out there in the dark. And then a flash of memory brought +with it a ray of hope that cheered her immeasurably. "Why, he was a +champion swimmer in college," she said aloud. "He was always winning +cups and things. And he's strong, and brave--and yet----" Vividly to +her mind came the picture of the wildly rushing flood with its burden +of tossing trees, and the man being swept straight into the gurge of +it. "I'll tell him he's brave--and he'll spoil it all by saying that +it was the only _practical_ thing to do." "Oh," she cried aloud, "I +could love him if it were not for his deadly practicability--even if I +should have to live in Cincinnati." And straightway fell to comparing +the two men. "Tex is absurdly unconventional in speech and actions, +and he has an adorable disregard for laws and things. He's just a big, +irresponsible boy--and yet, he makes you feel as if he always knew +exactly what to do and how to do it. And he is brave, too, with a +reckless, devil-may-care sort of bravery that takes no thought of cost +or consequences. He knew, when he let go his bridle reins, that he +couldn't swim a stroke--and he smiled and didn't care. And he's gentle +and considerate, too." She remembered the look in his eyes when he +said: "You are cold," and blushed furiously. + +It seemed hours she sat there staring into the little fire and +listening for sounds from the dark. But the only sounds that came to +her were the sounds of the feeding horses, and in utter weariness she +lay back with her head upon a folded blanket, and slept. + +When the Texan swung onto his horse after having made the girl +comfortable for her long vigil, a scant half-hour of moonlight was left +to him. He gave the horse his head and the animal picked his way among +the loose rocks and scrub timber that capped the ridge. When darkness +overtook him he dismounted, unsaddled, and groped about for firewood. +Despite its recent soaking the resinous bull pine flared up at the +touch of a match, and with his back to a rock-wall, the cowboy sat and +watched the little flames shoot upward. Once more he felt for his +"makings" and with infinite pains dried out his papers and tobacco. + +"It's the chance I be'n aimin' to make for myself," he mused, as he +drew the grey smoke of a cigarette deep into his lungs, "to get Bat an' +the pilgrim away--an' I ride off and leave it." The cigarette was +consumed and he rolled another. "Takin' a slant at himself from the +inside, a man kind of gets a line on how damned ornery folks can get. +Purdy got shot, an' everyone said he got just what was comin' to +him---- Me, an' everyone else--an' he did. But when you get down to +cases, he wasn't no hell of a lot worse'n me, at that. We was both +after the same thing--only his work was coarser." For hours the man +sat staring into his fire, the while he rolled and smoked many +cigarettes. + +"Oh, hell!" he exclaimed, aloud. "I can't turn nester, an' even if I +did, she couldn't live out in no mud-roof shack in the bottom of some +coulee! Still, she---- There I go again, over the same old trail. +This here little girl has sure gone to my head--like a couple of jolts +of hundred-proof on an empty stummick. Anyhow, she's a damn sight +safer'n ever she was before, an'--I'll bet the old man _would_ let me +take that Eagle Creek ranch off his hands, an' stake me to a little +bunch of stock besides, if I went at him right. If it wasn't for that +damn pilgrim! Bat was right. He holds the edge on me--but he's a +man." The cowboy glanced anxiously toward the east where the sky was +beginning to lighten with the first hint of dawn. He rose, trampled +out his fire, and threw the saddle onto his horse. "I've got to find +him," he muttered, "if Bat ain't found him already. I don't know much +about this swimmin' business but if he could have got holt of a tree or +somethin' he might have made her through." + +Now riding, now dismounting to lead his horse over some particularly +rough outcropping of rocks, or through an almost impenetrable tangle of +scrub, the man made his way over the divide and came down into the +valley amid a shower of loose rock and gravel, at a point some distance +below the lower end of the canyon. + +The mountains were behind him. Only an occasional butte reared its +head above the sea of low foothills that stretched away into the bad +lands to the southward. The sides of the valley flattened and became +ill-defined. Low ridges and sage-topped foothills broke up its +continuity, so that the little creek that started so bravely from the +mountains ended nowhere, its waters being sucked in by the parched and +thirsting alkali soil long before it reached the bad lands. + +As his horse toiled ankle-deep in the soft whitish mud, Tex's eyes +roved over the broadened expanse of the valley. Everywhere were +evidences of the destructive force of the flood. Uprooted trees +scattered singly and in groups, high-flung masses of brush, hay, and +inextricably tangled barbed-wire from which dangled fence-posts marked +every bend of the creek bed. And on every hand the bodies of drowned +cattle dotted the valley. + +"If I was Johnson," he mused, as his eyes swept the valley, "I'd head a +right smart of ranch hands down here heeled with a spade an' a sexton's +commission. These here late lamented dogies'll cost him somethin' in +damages." From force of habit the man read the brands of the dead +cattle as he rode slowly down the valley. "D bar C, that's old Dave +Cromley's steer. An' there's a T U, an' an I X cow, an' there's one of +Charlie Green's, an' a yearlin' of Jerry Keerful's, an' a +quarter-circle M,--that belongs over the other side, they don't need to +bother with that one, an' there's a----" + +Suddenly he drew himself erect, and rising to stand in the stirrups, +gazed long and intently toward a spot a quarter of a mile below, where +a thin column of smoke curled over the crest of a low ridge. Abruptly +he lost interest in the brands of dead cattle and headed his horse at a +run toward a coulee, that gave between two sage covered foothills only +a short distance from the faint column of smoke. "That might be Bat, +an' then again it mightn't," he muttered. "It can't be the pilgrim +without Bat's along, 'cause he wouldn't have no dry matches. An' if +it's any one else--" he drew up sharply in the shelter of a thicket, +dismounted, and made his way on foot to the summit of the ridge. +Removing his hat, he thrust his head through a narrow opening between +two sage bushes, and peered into the hollow beyond. Beside a little +fire sat Bat and the pilgrim, the latter arrayed in a suit of underwear +much abbreviated as to arms and legs, while from the branches of a +broken tree-top drawn close beside the blaze depended a pair of +mud-caked trousers and a disreputably dirty silk shirt. The Texan +picked his way down the hill, slipping and sliding in the soft mud. + +"Breakfast about ready?" he asked, with a grin. + +"Breakfas'! _Voila_! A'm lak' A'm got som' breakfas', you bet! +Me--A'm gon' for cut de chonk of meat out de dead steer but de pilgrim +say: '_Non_, dat bes' we don' eat de damn drownded cattle--dat better +we sta've firs'!" + +Tex laughed: "Can't stand for the drownded ones, eh? Well I don't know +as I blame you none, they might be some soggy." Reaching into his +shirt-front he produced a salt bag which he tossed to Endicott. +"Here's some sinkers I fetched along. Divide 'em up. I've et. It +ain't no great ways back to camp----" + +"How is she--Miss Marcum? Did she suffer from the shock?" + +"Nary suffer. I fixed her up a camp last night back in the timber +where we all landed, an' then came away." + +"She spent the night alone in the timber!" cried Endicott. + +The Texan nodded. "Yes. There ain't nothin' will bother her. I +judged it to be the best way." Endicott's hand shot out and the +cowboy's met it in a firm grip. "I reckon we're fifty-fifty on that," +he said gravely. "How's the swimmin'?" + +Endicott laughed: "Fine--only I didn't have to do a great deal of it. +I staged a little riding contest all my own, part of the way on a dead +cow, and the rest of it on this tree-trunk. I didn't mind that part of +it--that was fun, but it didn't last over twenty minutes. After the +tree grounded, I had to tramp up and down through this ankle-deep mud +to keep from freezing. I didn't dare to go any place for fear of +getting lost. I thought at first, when the water went down I would +follow back up the valley, but I couldn't find the sides and after one +or two false starts I gave it up. Then Bat showed up at daylight and +we managed to build a fire." Endicott divided the biscuits and +proceeded to devour his share. + +Tex rolled a cigarette. "Say," he drawled, when he had lighted it with +a twig from the fire, "what the hell did you whallop me in the jaw for? +I seen it comin' but I couldn't dodge, an' when she hit--it seemed like +I was all tucked away in my little crib, an' somewhere, sweet voices +was singin'." + +"I had to do it," laughed Endicott. "It was that, or both of us going +to the bottom. You were grabbing for my arms and legs." + +"I ain't holdin' it against you," grinned Tex. "The arms an' legs is +yours, an' you're welcome to 'em. Also I'm obliged to you for +permittin' me to tarry a spell longer on this mundane spear, as the +fellow says, even if I can't chew nothin' harder'n soup." + +"Would you mind rolling me a cigarette," grinned Endicott, as he +finished the last of the biscuits. "I never tried it, and I am afraid +I would bungle the job." Without hesitation the Texan complied, deftly +interposing his body so that the pilgrim could not see that the tobacco +he poured into the paper was the last in his sack. He extended the +little cylinder. "When you get that lit, you better crawl into them +clothes of yours an' we'll be hittin' the back-trail. Out here in the +open ain't no place for us to be." + +Endicott surveyed his sorry outfit with disfavour. "I would rather +stick to the B.V.D.'s, if it were practical." + +"B.V.D., B.V.D.," repeated the Texan. "There ain't no such brand on +this range. Must be some outfit south of here--what did you say about +it?" + +"I said my B.V.D.'s," he indicated his under-garments; "these would be +preferable to those muddy trousers and that shirt." + +"Oh, that's the brand of your longerie. Don't wear none myself, except +in winter, an' then thick ones. I've scrutinized them kind, though, +more or less thorough--hangin' on lines around nesters' places an' home +ranches, when I'd be ridin' through. Never noticed none with B.V.D. on +'em, though. The brand most favoured around here has got XXXX FLOUR +printed acrost the broad of 'em, an' I've always judged 'em as +belongin' to the opposin' sect." + +Endicott chuckled as he gingerly arrayed himself in the damp garments +and when he was dressed, Tex regarded him quizzically: "Them belongin's +of yourn sure do show neglect, Win." Endicott started at the word. It +was the first time any one had abbreviated his name, and instantly he +remembered the words of Alice Marcum: "If you keep on improving some +day somebody is going to call you Win." He smiled grimly. "I must be +improving," he muttered, under his breath, "I would pass anywhere for a +tramp." From beyond the fire Tex continued his scrutiny, the while he +communed with himself: "Everything's fair, et cetry, as the fellow +says, an' it's a cinch there ain't no girl goin' to fall no hell of a +ways for any one rigged out like a last year's sheepherder. But, damn +it! he done me a good turn--an' one that took guts to do. 'Tain't no +use in chasin' the devil around the stump---- If I can get that girl +I'm a-goin' to get her! If I do I'll wire in some creek an' turn +nester or do any other damned thing that's likewise mean an' debasin' +that she wants me to--except run sheep. But if the pilgrim's got the +edge, accordin' to Bat's surmise, he's got it fair an' square. The +cards is on the table. It's him or me for it--but from now on the +game's on the level." + +Aloud he said: "Hope you don't mind havin' your name took in vain like +I done, but it's a habit of mine to get names down to a workin' basis +when I've got to use 'em frequent. Bat, there, his folks started him +off with a name that sounded like the Nicene Creed, but we bobbed her +down for handy reference, an' likewise I ain't be'n called Horatio +since the paternal roof-tree quit sproutin' the punitive switch. But, +to get down to cases, you fellows have got to hike back to the camp an' +hole up 'til dark. There's bound to be someone ridin' this here coulee +an' you got to keep out of sight. I'm goin' to do a little scoutin', +an' I'll join you later. It ain't only a couple of miles or so an' you +better hit for the high ground an' cross the divide. Don't risk goin' +through the canyon." + +Endicott glanced apprehensively at his mud encased silk socks, the feet +of which were already worn through in a dozen places. + +"Where's your slippers!" asked Tex, catching the glance. + +"My shoes? I threw them away last night before I took to the water." + +"It's just as well. They wasn't any good anyhow. The ground's soft +with the rain, all you got to watch out for is prickly pears an' +rattlesnakes. You'll be close to camp before the rocks get bad an' +then Bat can go hunt up your slippers an' fetch 'em out to you." The +Texan started for his horse. At the top of the ridge he turned: "I'll +stop an' tell her that you'll be along in a little bit," he called, and +swinging into the saddle, struck off up the creek. + +The habitual cynical smile that curled his lips broadened as he rode. +"This here Johnson, now, he likes me like he likes a saddle-galded +boil, ever since I maintained that a rider was hired to ride, an' not +to moil, an' quit his post-hole-diggin', hay-pitchin', tea-drinkin' +outfit, short-handed. I ain't had no chance to aggravate him real +good, outside of askin' him how his post-holes was winterin' through, +when I'd meet up with him on the trail, an' invitin' him to go over to +the Long Horn to have a snort of tea, a time or two, down to Wolf +River." + +At the up-slanting bank where they had sought refuge from the valley he +dismounted, wrenched his own saddle out of the mud, and examined the +broken cinch. "If the pilgrim hadn't saved me the trouble, I'd of sure +had to get Purdy for that," he muttered, and looked up to encounter the +eyes of the girl, who was watching him from the top of the bank. Her +face was very white, and the sight stirred a strange discomfort within +him. "I bet she wouldn't turn no such colour for me, if I'd be'n +drowned for a week," he thought, bitterly. + +"You--didn't find him?" The words came with an effort. + +The Texan forced a smile: "I wouldn't have be'n here if I hadn't. Or +rather Bat did, an' I found the two of 'em. He's all to the mustard +an' none the worse for wear, except his clothes--they won't never look +quite the same, an' his socks need mendin' in sixty or seventy spots. +They'll be along directly. You run along and fix 'em up some breakfast +an' keep out of sight. I'm goin' to do a little scoutin' an', maybe, +won't be back 'til pretty near dark." + +"But you! Surely, you must be nearly starved!" The relief that +flashed into her face at the news of Endicott's safety changed to +sincere concern. + +"I ain't got time, now." + +"Please come. The coffee is all ready and it won't take but a minute +to fry some bacon." + +The Texan smiled up at her. "If you insist," he said. The girl +started in surprise at the words, and the man plunged immediately into +the vernacular of the cow-country as he followed her into the timber. +"Yes. A cup of Java wouldn't go bad, but I won't stop long. I want to +kind of circulate along the back-trail a ways to see if we're bein' +followed." He took the cup of coffee from her hand and watched as she +sliced the bacon and threw it into the frying pan. "Did you ever +figure on turnin' nester?" he asked abruptly. + +The girl looked at him inquiringly: "Nester?" she asked. "What's a +nester?" + +Tex smiled: "Nesters is folks that takes up a claim an' fences off a +creek somewheres, an' then stays with it 'til, by the grace of God, +they either starve to death, or get rich." + +Alice laughed: "No, I never thought of being a nester. But it would be +loads of fun. That is, if----" + +The Texan interrupted her almost rudely: "Yes, an' if they didn't, it +would just naturally be hell, wouldn't it?" He gulped down the last of +his coffee, and, without waiting for the bacon, strode out of the +timber, mounted his horse, and rode away. + +At the reservoir site he drew rein and inspected the ruined +dirt-and-rock dam. Fresh dirt, brush, and rock had already been dumped +into the aperture, and over on the hillside a group of men was busy +loading wagons. He let himself into the ranch enclosure, rode past the +bunk-house and on toward the big house that sat well back from the +other buildings in the centre of a grove of trees. A horse stood +saddled beside the porch, and through the open door Tex could hear a +man's voice raised in anger: "Why in hell ain't it ready? You might of +knowed I'd want it early today, havin' to git out at daylight! You +wouldn't give a damn if I never got nothin' to eat!" The door banged +viciously cutting off a reply in a woman's voice, and a man strode +across the porch, and snatched up the reins of the waiting horse. + +"What's the matter, Johnson, your suspenders galdin' you this mornin'?" + +The man scowled into the face of the cow-puncher who sat regarding him +with an irritating grin. + +"What do you want around here? If you want a job go turn your horse +into the corral an' git out there an' git to work on that resevoy." + +"No, Johnson, I don't want a job. I done had one experience with this +outfit, an' I fired you for a boss for keeps." + +"Get offen this ranch!" roared the man, shaking a fist, and advancing +one threatening step, "or I'll have you throw'd off!" + +Tex laughed: "I don't aim to stick around no great while. Fact is, I'm +in somethin' of a hurry myself. I just stopped in to give you a chanct +to do me a good turn. I happened to be down this way an': 'there's +Johnson,' I says to myself, 'he's so free an' open-handed, a man's +welcome to anything he's got,' so I stopped in." + +The ranchman regarded him with an intent scowl: "'Sth' matter with you, +you drunk?" + +"Not yet. But I got a friend out here in the hills which he's lost his +slippers, an' tore his pants, an' got his shirt all dirty, an' mislaid +his hat; an' knowin' you'd be glad to stake him to an outfit I come +over, him bein' about your size an' build." + +The ranchman's face flushed with anger: "What the hell do I care about +you an' your friends. Git offen this ranch, I tell you!" + +"Oh, yes, an' while you're gettin' the outfit together just you slip in +a cinch, an' a quart or two of _hooch_, case we might get snake-bit." + +Beside himself with rage, the man raised his foot to the stirrup. As +if suddenly remembering something he paused, lowered his foot, and +regarded the cowboy with an evil leer: "Ah-ha, I've got it now!" he +moved a step nearer. "I was at the dance night before last to Wolf +River." He waited to note the effect of the words on his hearer. + +"Did you have a good time? Or did the dollar you had to shell out for +the ticket spoil all the fun?" + +"Never mind what kind of a _time_ I had. But they's plenty of us knows +you was the head leader of the gang that took an' lynched that pilgrim." + +"That's right," smiled the man coolly. "Beats the devil, how things +gets spread around, don't it? An' speakin' of news spreading that +way--I just came up the creek from down below the canyon. You must +have had quite a bit of water in your reservoir when she let go, +Johnson, judgin' by results." + +"What do you mean?" + +"You ain't be'n down the creek, then?" + +"No, I ain't. I'm goin' now. I had to git the men to work fixin' the +dam." + +"What I mean is this! There's about fifty head of cattle, more or +less, that's layin' sprinkled around on top of the mud. Amongst which +I seen T U brands, and I X, an' D bar C, an' quite a few nester brands. +When your reservoir let go she sure raised hell with other folks' +property. Of course, bein' away down there where there ain't any +folks, if I hadn't happened along it might have been two or three weeks +before any one would have rode through, an' you could have run a bunch +of ranch hands down an' buried 'em an' no one would have be'n any +wiser----" + +"You're lyin'!" There was a look of fear in the man's eyes, + +Tex shrugged: "You'll only waste a half a day ridin' down to see for +yourself," he replied indifferently. + +Johnson appeared to consider, then stepped close to the Texan's side: +"They say one good turn deserves another. Meanin' that you shet up +about them cattle an' I'll shet up about seein' you." + +"That way, it wouldn't cost you nothin' would it, Johnson? Well, it's +a trade, if you throw in the aforementioned articles of outfit I +specified, to boot." + +"Not by a damn sight! You got the best end of it the way it is. +Lynchin' is murder!" + +"So it is," agreed the Texan. "An' likewise, maintainin' weak +reservoirs that lets go an' drowns other folks' cattle is a public +nuisance, an' a jury's liable to figger up them damages kind of +high--'specially again' you, Johnson, bein' ornery an' rotten-hearted, +an' tight-fisted, that way, folks don't like you." + +"It means hangin' fer you!" + +"Yes. But it means catchin' first. I can be a thousan' miles away +from here, in a week, but you're different. All they got to do is grab +the ranch, it's good for five or six thousan' in damages, all right. +Still if you don't want to trade, I'll be goin'." He gathered up his +reins. + +"Hold on! It's a damned hold-up, but what was it you wanted?" + +The Texan checked off the items on his gloved fingers: "One pair of +pants, one shirt, one hat, one pair of boots, same size as yourn, one +pair of spurs, one silk muffler, that one you've got on'll do, one +cinch, half a dozen packages of tobacco, an' one bottle of whiskey. +All to be in good order an' delivered right here within ten minutes. +An' you might fetch a war-bag to pack 'em in. Hurry up now! 'Cause if +you ain't back in ten minutes, I'll be movin' along, an' when I pass +the word to the owners of them cattle it's goin' to raise their +asperity some obnoxious." + +With a growl the man disappeared into the house to return a few minutes +later with a sack whose sides bulged. + +"Dump 'em out an' we'll look 'em over!" ordered the Texan and the man +complied. + +"All right. Throw 'em in again an' hand 'em up." + +When he had secured the load by means of his pack strings he turned to +the rancher. + +"So long, Johnson, an' if I was you I wouldn't lose no time in +attendin' to the last solemn obsequies of them defunk dogies. I'll +never squeal, but you can't tell how soon someone else might come +a-ridin' along through the foot-hills." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +A BOTTLE OF "HOOCH" + +It was well past the middle of the afternoon when the Texan rode up the +steep incline and unsaddled his horse. The occupants of the camp were +all asleep, the girl in her little shelter tent, and Bat and Endicott +with their blankets spread at some little distance away. Tex carried +the outfit he had procured from Johnson into the timber, then crawled +cautiously to the pilgrim's side, and awoke him without arousing the +others. + +"Hey, Win, wake up," he whispered as the man regarded him through a +pair of sleepy eyes. "Come on with me. I got somethin' to show you." +Tex led the way to the war-bag. "Them clothes of yourn is plum +despisable to look at," he imparted, "so I borrowed an outfit offen a +friend of mine that's about your size. Just crawl into 'em an' see how +they fit." + +Five minutes later the cowboy viewed with approval the figure that +stood before him, booted and spurred, with his mud-caked garments +replaced by corduroy trousers and a shirt of blue flannel against which +the red silk muffler made a splotch of vivid colouring. + +"You look like a sure enough top hand, now," grinned the Texan. "We'll +just take a drink on that." He drew the cork from the bottle and +tendered it to Endicott, who shook his head. + +"No, thanks. I never use it." + +The Texan stared at him in surprise. "Do you mean you've got the +regular habit of not drinkin', or is it only a temporary lapse of duty?" + +Endicott laughed: "Regular habit," he answered. + +The other drank deeply of the liquor and returned the cork. "You ought +to break yourself of that habit, Win, there's no tellin' where it'll +lead to. A fellow insulted me once when I was sober an' I never +noticed it. But laying aside your moral defects, them whiskers of +yourn is sure onornamental to a scandalous degree. Wait, I'll fetch my +razor, an' you can mow 'em." He disappeared, to return a few moments +later with a razor, a cake of hand-soap, and a shaving brush. + +"I never have shaved my self," admitted Endicott, eyeing the articles +dubiously. + +"Who have you shaved?" + +"I mean, I have always been shaved by a barber." + +"Oh!" The cowboy took another long pull at the bottle. "Well, Win, +the fact is them whiskers looks like hell an' has got to come off." He +rolled up his sleeves. "I ain't no barber, an' never shaved a man in +my life, except myself, but I'm willin' to take a chance. After what +you've done for me I'd be a damn coward not to risk it. Wait now 'til +I get another drink an' I'll tackle the job an' get it over with. A +man can't never tell what he can do 'til he tries." + +Endicott viewed the cowboy's enthusiasm with alarm. "That's just what +I was thinking, Tex," he hastened to say, as the other drew the cork +from the bottle. "And it is high time I learned to shave myself, +anyway. I have never been where it was necessary before. If you will +just sit there and tell me how, I will begin right now." + +"Alright, Win, you can't never learn any younger. First off, you wet +your face in the creek an' then soap it good. That soap ain't regular +shavin' soap, but it'll do. Then you take the brush an' work it into a +lather, an' then you shave." + +"But," inquired the man dubiously, "don't you have towels soaked in hot +water, and----" + +"Towels an' hot water, hell! This ain't no barber shop, an' there +ain't no gin, or whatever they rub on your face after you get through, +either. You just shave an' knock the soap off your ears an' that's all +there is to it." + +After much effort Endicott succeeded in smearing his face with a thin, +stringy lather, and gingerly picked up the razor. The Texan looked on +in owlish solemnity as the man sat holding the blade helplessly. + +"What you doin', Win, sayin' the blessin'? Just whet her on your boot +an' sail in." + +"But where do I begin?" + +The Texan snorted disgustedly. "Your face ain't so damn big but what +an hour or two reminiscence ought to take you back to where it starts. +Begin at your hat an' work down over your jaw 'til you come to your +shirt, an' the same on the other side, takin' in your lip an' chin in +transit, as the feller says. An' hold it like a razor, an' not like a +pitchfork. Now you got to lather all over again, 'cause it's dry." + +Once more Endicott laboriously coaxed a thin lather out of the brown +hand-soap, and again he grasped the razor, this time with a do-or-die +determination. + +"Oughtn't I have a mirror?" he asked doubtfully. + +"A mirror! Don't you know where your own face is at? You don't need +no mirror to eat with, do you? Well, it's the same way with shavin'. +But if you got to have ocular evidence, just hang out over the creek +there where it's still." + +The operation was slow and painful. It seemed to Endicott as though +each separate hair were being dragged out by its roots, and more than +once the razor edge drew blood. At last the job was finished, he +bathed his smarting face in the cold water, and turned to the Texan for +approval. + +"You look like the second best bet in a two-handed cat fight," he +opined, and producing his book of cigarette papers, proceeded to stick +patches of tissue over various cuts and gashes. "Takin' it by an' +large, though, it ain't so bad. There's about as many places where you +didn't go close enough as there is where you went too close, so's it'll +average somewhere around the skin level. Anyway it shows you tried to +look respectable--an' you do, from your neck down--an' your hat, too." + +"I am certainly obliged to you," laughed Endicott, "for going to all +that trouble to provide me with clothing. And by the way, did you +learn anything--in regard to posses, I mean?" + +The Texan nodded sombrely: "Yep. I did. This here friend of mine was +on his way back from Wolf River when I met up with him. 'Tex,' he +says, 'where's the pilgrim?' I remains noncommital, an' he continues, +'I layed over yesterday to enjoy Purdy's funeral, which it was the +biggest one ever pulled off in Wolf River--not that any one give a damn +about Purdy, but they've drug politics into it, an' furthermore, his'n +was the only corpse to show for the whole celebration, it bein' plumb +devoid of further casualties.'" The cowpuncher paused, referred to his +bottle, and continued: "It's just like I told you before. There can't +no one's election get predjudiced by hangin' you, an' they've made a +kind of issue out of it. There's four candidates for sheriff this fall +an' folks has kind of let it be known, sub rosy, that the one that +brings you in, gathers the votes. In the absence of any corpse +delecti, which in this case means yourn, folks refuses to assume you +was hung, so each one of them four candidates is right now scouring the +country with a posse. All this he imparts to me while he was throwin' +that outfit of clothes together an' further he adds that I'm under +suspicion for aidin' an' abettin', an' that means life with hard labour +if I'm caught with the goods--an', Win, you're the goods. Therefore, +you'll confer a favour on me by not getting caught, an' incidentally +save yourself a hangin'. Once we get into the bad lands we're all to +the good, but even then you've got to keep shy of folks. Duck out of +sight when you first see any one. Don't have nothin' to say to no one +under no circumstances. If you do chance onto someone where you can't +do nothin' else you'll have to lie to 'em. Personal, I don't favour +lyin' only as a last resort, an' then in moderation. Of course, down +in the bad lands, most of the folks will be on the run like we are, an' +not no more anxious for to hold a caucus than us. You don't have to be +so particular there, 'cause likely all they'll do when they run onto +you will be to take a shot at you, an' beat it. We've got to lay low +in the bad lands about a week or so, an' after that folks will have +somethin' else on their mind an' we can slip acrost to the N. P." + +"See here, Tex, this thing has gone far enough." There was a note of +determination in Endicott's voice as he continued: "I cannot permit you +to further jeopardize yourself on my account. You have already +neglected your business, incurred no end of hard work, and risked life, +limb, and freedom to get me out of a scrape. I fully appreciate that I +am already under heavier obligation to you than I can ever repay. But +from here on, I am going it alone. Just indicate the general direction +of the N. P. and I will find it. I know that you and Bat will see that +Miss Marcum reaches the railway in safety, and----" + +"Hold on, Win! That oration of yourn ain't got us no hell of a ways, +an' already it's wandered about four school-sections off the trail. In +the first place, it's me an' not you that does the permittin' for this +outfit. I've undertook to get you acrost to the N. P. I never started +anythin' yet that I ain't finished. Take this bottle of _hooch_ +here--I've started her, an' I'll finish her. There's just as much +chance I won't take you acrost to the N. P., as that I won't finish +that bottle--an' that's damn little. + +"About neglectin' my business, as you mentioned, that ain't worryin' me +none, because the wagon boss specified particular an' onmistakeable +that if any of us misguided sons of guns didn't show up on the job the +mornin' followin' the dance, we might's well keep on ridin' as far as +that outfit was concerned, so it's undoubtable that the cow business is +bein' carried on satisfactory durin' my temporary absence. + +"Concernin' the general direction of the N. P., I'll enlighten you that +if you was to line out straight for Texas, it would be the first +railroad you'd cross. But you wouldn't never cross it because +interposed between it an' here is a right smart stretch of country +which for want of a worse name is called the bad lands. They's some +several thousan' square miles in which there's only seven water-holes +that a man can drink out of, an' generally speakin' about five of them +is dry. There's plenty of water-holes but they're poison. Some is gyp +an' some is arsnic. Also these here bad lands ain't laid out on no +general plan. The coulees run hell-west an' crossways at their +littlest end an' wind up in a mud crack. There ain't no trails, an' +the inhabitants is renegades an' horse-thieves which loves their +solitude to a murderous extent. If a man ain't acquainted with the +country an' the horse-thieves, an' the water-holes, his sojourn would +be discouragin' an' short. + +"All of which circumlocutin' brings us to the main point which is that +_she_ wouldn't stand for no such proceedin'. As far as I can see that +settles the case. The pros an' cons that you an' me could set here an' +chew about, bein' merely incidental, irreverent, an' by way of passin' +the time." + +Endicott laughed: "You are a philosopher, Tex." + +"A cow-hand has got to be." + +"But seriously, I could slip away without her knowing it, then the only +thing you could do would be to take her to the railway." + +"Yes. Well, you try that an' you'll find out who's runnin' this +outfit. I'll trail out after you an' when I catch you, I'll just +naturally knock hell out of you, an' that's all there'll be to it. You +had the edge on me in the water but you ain't on land. An' now that's +settled to the satisfaction of all parties concerned, suppose me an' +you slip over to camp an' cook supper so we can pull out right after +sundown." + +The two made their way through the timber to find Alice blowing herself +red in the face in a vain effort to coax a blaze out of a few +smouldering coals she had scraped from beneath the ashes of the fire. + +"Hold on!" cried the Texan, striding toward her, "I've always +maintained that buildin' fires is a he-chore, like swearin', an' +puttin' the baby to sleep. So, if you'll just set to one side a minute +while I get this fire a-goin' an' Win fetches some water, you can take +holt an' do the cookin' while we-all get the outfit ready for the +trail." + +Something in the man's voice caused the girl to regard him sharply, and +her eyes shifted for a moment to his companion who stood in the +background. There was no flash of recognition in the glance, and +Endicott, suppressing a laugh, turned his face away, picked up the +water pail, and started toward the creek. + +"Who is that man?" asked the girl, a trifle nervously, as he +disappeared from view. + +"Who, him?" The Texan was shaving slivers from a bull pine stick. +"He's a friend of mine. Win's his name, an' barrin' a few little +irregularities of habit, he ain't so bad." The cowboy burst into +mournful song as he collected his shavings and laid them upon the coals: + + "It's little Joe, the wrangler, he'll wrangle never more, + His days with the _remuda_ they are o'er; + 'Twas a year ago last April when he rode into our camp, + Just a little Texas stray, and all alo-o-o-n-e." + +Alice leaned toward the man in sudden anger: + +"You've been drinking!" she whispered. + +Tex glanced at her in surprise: "That's so," he said, gravely. "It's +the only way I can get it down." + +She was about to retort when Endicott returned from the creek and +placed the water pail beside her. + +"Winthrop!" she cried, for the first time recognizing him. "Where in +the world did you get those clothes, and what is the matter with your +face?" + +Endicott grinned: "I shaved myself for the first time." + +"What did you do it with, some barbed wire?" + +"Looks like somethin' that was left out in the rain an' had started to +peel," ventured the irrepressible Tex. + +Alice ignored him completely. "But the clothes? Where did you get +them?" + +Endicott nodded toward the Texan. "He loaned them to me!" + +"But--surely they would never fit him." + +"Didn't know it was necessary they should," drawled Tex, and having +succeeded in building the fire, moved off to help Bat who was busying +himself with the horses. + +"Where has he been?" asked the girl as the voice of the Texan came from +beyond the trees: + + "It happened in Jacksboro in the spring of seventy-three, + A man by the name of Crego come steppin' up to me, + Sayin', 'How do you do, young fellow, an' how would you like to go + An' spend one summer pleasantly, on the range of the buffalo-o-o?'" + +"I'm sure I don't know. He came back an hour or so ago and woke me up +and gave me this outfit and told me my whiskers looked like the +infernal regions and that I had better shave--even offered to shave me, +himself." + +"But he has been drinking. Where did he get the liquor?" + +"The same place he got the clothes, I guess. He said he met a friend +and borrowed them," smiled Endicott. + +"Well, it's nothing to laugh at. I should think you'd be ashamed to +stand there and laugh about it." + +The man stared at her in surprise. "I guess he won't drink enough to +hurt him any. And--why, it was only a day or two ago that you sat in +the dining car and defended their drinking. You even said, I believe, +that had you been a man you would have been over in the saloon with +them." + +"Yes, I did say that! But that was different. Oh, I think men are +_disgusting_! They're either _bad_, or just plain _dumb_!" + + "We left old Crego's bones to bleach on the range of the buffalo-- + Went home to our wives an' sweethearts, told others not to go, + For God's forsaken the buffalo range, and the damned old buffalo-o-o!" + +"At least our friend Tex does not seem to be stricken with dumbness," +Endicott smiled as the words of the buffalo skinner's song broke forth +anew. "Do you know I have taken a decided fancy to him. He's----" + +"I'd run along and play with him then if I were you," was the girl's +sarcastic comment. "Maybe if you learn how to swear and sing some of +his beautiful songs he'll give you part of his whiskey." She turned +away abruptly and became absorbed in the preparation of supper, and +Endicott, puzzled as he was piqued, at the girl's attitude, joined the +two who were busy with the pack. "He's just perfectly stunning in that +outfit," thought Alice as she watched him disappear in the timbers. +"Oh, I don't know--sometimes I wish--" but the wish became confused +somehow with the sizzling of bacon. And with tight-pressed lips, she +got out the tin dishes. + +"What's the matter, Win--steal a sheep?" asked the Texan as he paused, +blanket in hand, to regard Endicott. + +"What?" + +"What did _you_ catch hell for? You didn't imbibe no embalmin' fluid." +Endicott grinned and the cowboy finished rolling his blanket. + +"Seems like we're in bad, some way. She didn't say nothin' much, but I +managed to gather from the way she looked right through the place where +I was standin' that I could be got along without for a spell. Her +interruptin' me right in the middle of a song to impart that I'd be'n +drinkin' kind of throw'd me under the impression that the pastime was +frowned on, but the minute I seen you comin' through the brush like you +was sneaking off at recess, I know'd you was included in the boycott +an' that lets the booze out. Seein's our conscience is clear, it must +be somethin' _she_ done that she's took umbrage at, as the feller says, +an' the best thing we can do is to overlook it. I don't know as I'd +advise tellin' her so, but we might just kind of blend into the scenery +onobtrusive 'til the thaw comes. In view of which I'll just take a +little drink an' sing you a song I heard down on the Rio Grande." +Thrusting his arm into the end of his blanket roll, the Texan drew +forth his bottle and, taking a drink, carefully replaced it. "This +here song is _The Old Chisholm Trail_, an' it goes like this: + + "Come along; boys, and listen to my tale, + I'll tell you of my troubles on the old Chisholm trail. + + Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya, youpy ya, + Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya. + + I started up the trail October twenty-third, + I started up the trail with the 2-U herd. + + Oh, a ten dollar hoss and a forty dollar saddle-- + And I'm goin' to punchin' Texas cattle. + + I woke up one morning on the old Chisholm trail, + Rope in my hand and a cow by the tail. + + I'm up in the mornin' afore daylight + And afore I sleep the moon shines bright. + + Old Ben Bolt was a blamed good boss, + But he'd go to see the girls on a sore-backed hoss. + + Old Ben Bolt was a fine old man + And you'd know there was whiskey wherever he'd land. + + My hoss throwed me off at the creek called Mud, + My hoss throwed me off round the 2-U herd. + + Last time I saw him he was going cross the level + A-kicking up his heels and a-runnin' like the devil. + + It's cloudy in the west, a-lookin' like rain, + An' my damned old slicker's in the wagon again. + + Crippled my hoss, I don't know how, + Ropin' at the horns of a 2-U cow. + + We hit Caldwell and we hit her on the fly, + We bedded down the cattle on the hill close by. + + No chaps, no slicker, and it's pourin' down rain, + An' I swear, by God, I'll never night-herd again. + + Feet in the stirrups and seat in the saddle, + I hung and rattled with them long-horn cattle. + + Last night I was on guard and the leader broke the ranks, + I hit my horse down the shoulders and I spurred him in the flanks. + + The wind commenced to blow, and the rain began to fall. + Hit looked, by grab, like we was goin' to lose 'em all. + + I jumped in the saddle and grabbed holt the horn, + Best blamed cow-puncher ever was born. + + I popped my foot in the stirrup and gave a little yell, + The tail cattle broke and the leaders went to hell. + + I don't give a damn if they never do stop; + I'll ride as long as an eight-day clock. + + Foot in the stirrup and hand on the horn, + Best damned cowboy ever was born. + + I herded and I hollered and I done very well + Till the boss said, 'Boys, just let 'em go to hell.' + + Stray in the herd and the boss said kill it, + So I shot him in the rump with the handle of the skillet. + + We rounded 'em up and put 'em on the cars, + And that was the last of the old Two Bars. + + Oh, it's bacon and beans most every day,-- + I'd as soon be a-eatin' prairie hay. + + I'm on my best horse and I'm goin' at a run, + I'm the quickest shootin' cowboy that ever pulled a gun. + + I went to the wagon to get my roll, + To come back to Texas, dad-burn my soul. + + I went to the boss to draw my roll, + He had it figgered out I was nine dollars in the hole. + + I'll sell my outfit just as soon as I can, + I won't punch cattle for no damned man. + + Goin' back to town to draw my money, + Goin' back home to see my honey. + + With my knees in the saddle and my seat in the sky, + I'll quit punchin' cows in the sweet by and by. + + Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya, youpy ya, + Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya." + +As the last words of the chorus died away both men started at the sound +of the girl's voice. + +"Whenever you can spare the time you will find your supper ready," she +announced, coldly, and without waiting for a reply, turned toward the +camp. Endicott looked at Tex, and Tex looked at Endicott. + +"Seems like you done raised hell again, Win. Standin' around listenin' +to ribald songs, like you done, ain't helped our case none. Well, we +better go eat it before she throws it away. Come on, Bat, you're +included in the general gloom. Your face looks like a last year's +circus bill, Win, with them patches of paper hangin' to it. Maybe +that's what riled her. If I thought it was I'd yank 'em off an' let +them cuts bleed no matter how bad they stung, just to show her my +heart's in the right place. But that might not suit, neither, so there +you are." + +Alice sat well back from the fire as the three men poured their coffee +and helped themselves to the food. + +"Ain't you goin' to join us in this here repast?" asked Tex, with a +smile. + +"I have eaten, thank you." + +"You're welcome--like eight dollars change for a five-spot." + +In vain Endicott signalled the cowboy to keep silent. "Shove over, +Win, you're proddin' me in the ribs with your elbow! Ain't Choteau +County big enough to eat in without crowdin'? 'Tain't as big as Tom +Green County, at that, no more'n Montana is as big as Texas--nor as +good, either; not but what the rest of the United States has got +somethin' to be said in its favour, though. But comparisons are +ordorous, as the Dutchman said about the cheese. Come on, Win, me an' +you'll just wash up these dishes so Bat can pack 'em while we saddle +up." + +A half-hour later, just as the moon topped the crest of a high ridge, +the four mounted and made their way down into the valley. + +"We got to go kind of easy for a few miles 'cause I shouldn't wonder if +old man Johnson had got a gang out interrin' defunck bovines. I'll +just scout out ahead an' see if I can locate their camp so we can slip +past without incurrin' notoriety." + +"I should think," said Alice, with more than a trace of acid in her +tone, "that you had done quite enough scouting for one day." + +"In which case," smiled the unabashed Texan, "I'll delegate the duty to +my trustworthy retainer an' side-kicker, the ubiquitous an' iniquitous +Baterino St. Cecelia Julius Caesar Napoleon Lajune. Here, Bat, fork +over that pack-horse an' take a siyou out ahead, keepin' a lookout for +posses, post holes, and grave-diggers. It's up to you to see that we +pass down this vale of tears, unsight an' unsung, as the poet says, or +off comes your hind legs. Amen." + +The half-breed grinned his understanding and handed over the lead-rope +with a bit of homely advice. "You no lak' you git find, dat better you +don' talk mooch. You ain' got to sing no mor', neider, or ba Goss! +A'm tak' you down an' stick you mout' full of rags, lak' I done down to +Chinook dat tam'. Dat _hooch_ she mak' noise 'nough for wan night, +_sabe_?" + +"That's right, Bat. Tombstones and oysters is plumb raucous +institutions to what I'll be from now on." He turned to the others +with the utmost gravity. "You folks will pardon any seemin' reticence +on my part, I hope. But there's times when Bat takes holt an' runs the +outfit--an' this is one of 'em." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +ON ANTELOPE BUTTE + +After the departure of Bat it was a very silent little cavalcade that +made its way down the valley. Tex, with the lead-horse in tow, rode +ahead, his attention fixed on the trail, and the others followed, +single file. + +Alice's eyes strayed from the backs of her two companions to the +mountains that rolled upward from the little valley, their massive +peaks and buttresses converted by the wizardry of moonlight into a +fairyland of wondrous grandeur. The cool night air was fragrant with +the breath of growing things, and the feel of her horse beneath her +caused the red blood to surge through her veins. + +"Oh, it's grand!" she whispered, "the mountains, and the moonlight, and +the spring. I love it all--and yet--" She frowned at the jarring note +that crept in, to mar the fulness of her joy. "It's the most wonderful +adventure I ever had--and romantic. And it's _real_, and I ought to be +enjoying it more than I ever enjoyed anything in all my life. But, I'm +not, and it's all because--I don't see why he had to go and drink!" +The soft sound of the horses' feet in the mud changed to a series of +sharp clicks as their iron shoes encountered the bare rocks of the +floor of the canyon whose precipitous rock walls towered far above, +shutting off the flood of moonlight and plunging the trail into +darkness. The figures of the two men were hardly discernible, and the +girl started nervously as her horse splashed into the water of the +creek that foamed noisily over the canyon floor. She shivered slightly +in the wind that sucked chill through the winding passage, although +back there in the moonlight the night had been still. Gradually the +canyon widened. Its walls grew lower and slanted from the +perpendicular. Moonlight illumined the wider bends and flashed in +silver scintillations from the broken waters of the creek. The click +of the horses' feet again gave place to the softer trampling of mud, +and the valley once more spread before them, broader now, and flanked +by an endless succession of foothills. + +Bat appeared mysteriously from nowhere, and after a whispered colloquy +with Tex, led off toward the west, leaving the valley behind and +winding into the maze of foothills. A few miles farther on they came +again into the valley and Alice saw that the creek had dwindled into a +succession of shallow pools between which flowed a tiny trickle of the +water. On and on they rode, following the shallow valley. Lush grass +overran the pools and clogged the feeble trickle of the creek. Farther +on, even the green patches disappeared and white alkali soil showed +between the gnarled sage bushes. Gradually the aspect of the country +changed. High, grass-covered foothills gave place to sharp pinnacles +of black lava rock, the sides of the valley once more drew together, +low, and broken into ugly cutbanks of dirty grey. Sagebrush and +prickly pears furnished the only vegetation, and the rough, broken +surface of the country took on a starved, gaunt appearance. + +Alice knew instinctively that they were at the gateway of the bad +lands, and the forbidding aspect that greeted her on every side as her +eyes swept the restricted horizon caused a feeling of depression. Even +the name "bad lands" seemed to hold a foreboding of evil. She had not +noticed this when the Texan had spoken it. If she had thought of it at +all, it was impersonally--an undesirable strip of country, as one +mentions the Sahara Desert. But, now, when she herself was entering +it--was seeing with her own eyes the grey mud walls, the bare black +rocks, and the stunted sage and cactus--the name held much of sinister +portent. + +From a nearby hillock came a thin weird scream--long-drawn and broken +into a series of horrible cackles. Instantly, as though it were the +signal that loosed the discordant chorus of hell, the sound was caught +up, intensified and prolonged until the demonical screams seemed to +belch from every hill and from the depths of the coulees between. + +Unconsciously, the girl spurred her horse which leaped past Endicott +and Bat and drew up beside the Texan, who was riding alone in the +forefront. + +The man glanced into the white frightened face: "Coyotes," he said, +gravely. "They won't bother any one." + +The girl shuddered. "There must be a million of them. What makes them +howl that way?" + +"Most any other way would be better, wouldn't it. But I reckon that's +the way they've learnt to, so they just keep on that way." + +Alice glanced at him sharply, but in the moonlight his clean-cut +profile gave no hint of levity. + +"You are making fun of me!" + +He turned his head and regarded her thoughtfully. "No. I wouldn't do +that, really. I was thinkin' of somethin' else." + +"You are a very disconcerting young man. You are unspeakably rude, and +I ought to be furiously angry." + +The Texan appeared to consider. "No. You oughtn't to do that because +when something important comes up you ain't got anything back, an' +folks won't regard you serious. But you wouldn't have been even peeved +if you knew what I was thinkin' about." + +"What was it?" The instant the question left her lips the girl wished +she could have recalled it. + +There was a long pause and Alice began to hope that the man had not +heard her question. Then he turned a very grave face toward her and +his eyes met hers squarely. "I was thinkin' that maybe, sometime, +you'd get to care enough about me to marry me. Sounds kind of abrupt +an' off-hand, don't it? But it ain't. I've been thinkin' about it a +lot. You're the first woman I've seen since--well, since way back +yonder, that I'd ever marry. The only one that stacks up to the kind +of people mine are, an' that I was back there. Of course, there'd be a +lot of readjustin' but that would work out--it always does when the +right kind of folks takes holt to put anything through. I've got some +recreations an' pastimes that ain't condoned by the pious. I gamble, +an' swear, an' smoke, an' lie, an' drink. But I gamble square, swear +decent an' hearty, lie for fun, but never in earnest, an' drink to a +reasonable degree of hilarity. My word is good with every man, woman, +an' child in the cow country. I never yet went back on a friend, nor +let up on an enemy. I never took underhand advantage of man or woman, +an' I know the cow business. For the rest of it, I'll go to the old +man an' offer to take the Eagle Creek ranch off his hands an' turn +nester. It's a good ranch, an' one that rightly handled would make a +man rich--provided he was a married man an' had somethin' to get rich +for. I don't want you to tell me now, you won't, or you will. We've +got a week or so yet to get acquainted in. An', here's another thing. +I know, an' you know, down deep in your heart, that you're goin' to +marry either Win, or me. Maybe you know which. I don't. But if it is +him, you'll get a damned good man. He's square an' clean. He's got +nerve--an' there ain't no bluff about it, neither. Wise men don't fool +with a man with an eye like his. An' he wants you as bad as I do. As +I said, we've got a week or more to get acquainted. It will be a week +that may take us through some mighty tough sleddin', but that ain't +goin' to help you none in choosin', because neither one of us will +break--an' you can bet your last stack of blue ones on that." + +The girl's lips were pressed very tight, and for some moments she rode +in silence. + +"Do you suppose I would ever marry a man who deliberately gets so drunk +he sings and talks incessantly----" + +"You'd be safer marryin' one that got drunk deliberately, than one who +done it inadvertent when he aimed to stay sober. Besides, there's +various degrees of drunkenness, the term bein' relative. But for the +sake of argument admittin' I was drunk, if you object to the singin' +and talkin', what do you recommend a man to do when he's drunk?" + +"I utterly despise a man that gets drunk!" The words came with an +angry vehemence, and for many minutes the Texan rode in silence while +the bit chains clinked and the horses' hoofs thudded the ground dully. +He leaned forward and his gloved hand gently smoothed his horse's mane. +"You don't mean just exactly that," he said, with his eyes on the dim +outline of a butte that rose high in the distance. Alice noticed that +the bantering tone was gone from his voice, and that his words fell +with a peculiar softness. "I reckon, though, I know what you do mean. +An' I reckon that barrin' some little difference in viewpoint, we think +about alike. . . . Yonder's Antelope Butte. We'll be safe to camp +there till we find out which way the wind blows before we strike +across." + +Deeper and deeper they pushed into the bad lands, the huge bulk of +Antelope Butte looming always before them, its outline showing +distinctly in the light of the sinking moon. As far as the eye could +see on every side the moonlight revealed only black lava-rock, deep +black shadows that marked the courses of dry coulees, and enormous +mud-cracks--and Antelope Butte. + +As the girl rode beside the cowboy she noticed that the cynical smile +was gone from the clean-cut profile. For miles he did not speak. +Antelope Butte was near, now. + +"I am thirsty," she said. A gauntleted hand fumbled for a moment with +the slicker behind the cantle, and extended a flask. + +"It's water. I figured someone would get thirsty." + +The girl drank from the flask and returned it: "If there are posses out +won't they watch the water-holes? You said there are only a few in the +bad lands." + +"Yes, they'll watch the water-holes. That's why we're goin' to camp on +Antelope Butte--right up on top of it." + +"But, how will we get water?" + +"It's there." + +"Have you been up there?" The girl glanced upward. They were already +ascending the first slope, and the huge mass of the detached mountain +towered above them in a series of unscaleable precipices. + +"No. But the water's there. The top of the Butte hollows out like a +saucer, an' in the bowl there's a little sunk spring. No one much ever +goes up there. There's a little scragglin' timber, an' the trail--it's +an old game trail--is hard to find if you don't know where to look for +it. A horse-thief told me about it." + +"A horse-thief! Surely, you are not risking all our lives on the word +of a horse-thief!" + +"Yes. He was a pretty good fellow. They killed him, afterwards, over +near the Mission. He was runnin' off a bunch of Flourey horses." + +"But a man who would steal would lie!" + +"He didn't lie to me. He judged I done him a good turn once. Over on +the Marias, it was--an' he said: 'If you're ever on the run, hit for +Antelope Butte.' Then he told me about the trail, an' the spring that +you've got to dig for among the rocks. He's got a grub _cache_ there, +too. He won't be needin' it, now." The cowboy glanced toward the +west. "The moon ought to just about hold 'til we get to the top. He +said you could ride all the way up." Without an instant's hesitation +he headed his horse for a huge mass of rock fragments that lay at the +base of an almost perpendicular wall. The others followed in single +file. Bat bringing up the rear driving the pack-horse before him. +Alice kept her horse close behind the Texan's which wormed and twisted +in and out among the rock fragments that skirted the wall. For a +quarter of a mile they proceeded with scarcely a perceptible rise and +then the cowboy turned his horse into a deep fissure that slanted +upward at a most precarious angle seemingly straight into the heart of +the mountain. Just when it seemed that the trail must end in a blind +pocket, the Texan swung into a cross fissure so narrow that the +stirrups brushed either side. So dark was it between the towering rock +walls that Alice could scarcely make out the cowboy's horse, although +at no time was he more than ten or fifteen feet in advance. After +innumerable windings the fissure led once more to the face of the +mountain and Tex headed his horse out upon a ledge that had not been +discernible from below. Alice gasped, and for a moment it seemed as +though she could not go on. Spread out before her like a huge relief +map were the ridges and black coulees of the bad lands, and directly +below--hundreds of feet below--the gigantic rock fragments lay strewn +along the base of the cliff like the abandoned blocks of a child. She +closed her eyes and shuddered. A loose piece of rock on the narrow +trail, a stumble, and--she could feel herself whirling down, down, +down. It was the voice of the Texan--confident, firm, reassuring--that +brought her once more to her senses. + +"It's all right. Just follow right along. Shut your eyes, or keep 'em +to the wall. We're half-way up. It ain't so steep from here on, an' +she widens toward the top. I'm dizzy-headed, too, in high places an' I +shut mine. Just give the horse a loose rein an' he'll keep the trail. +There ain't nowhere else for him to go." + +With a deadly fear in her heart, the girl fastened her eyes upon the +cowboy's back and gave her horse his head. And as she rode she +wondered at this man who unhesitatingly risked his life upon the word +of a horse-thief. + +Almost before she realized it the ordeal was over and her horse was +following its leader through a sparse grove of bull pine. The ascent +was still rather sharp, and the way strewn with boulders, and fallen +trees, but the awful precipice, with its sheer drop of many hundreds of +feet to the black rocks below, no longer yawned at her stirrup's edge, +and it was with a deep-drawn breath of relief that she allowed her eyes +once again to travel out over the vast sweep of waste toward the west +where the moon hung low and red above the distant rim of the bad lands. + +The summit of Antelope Butte was, as the horse-thief had said, an ideal +camping place for any one who was "on the run." The edges of the +little plateau, which was roughly circular in form, rose on every side +to a height of thirty or forty feet, at some points in an easy slope, +and at others in a sheer rise of rock wall. The surface of the little +plane showed no trace of the black of the lava rock of the lower levels +but was of the character of the open bench and covered with buffalo +grass and bunch grass with here and there a sprinkling of prickly +pears. The four dismounted and, in the last light of the moon, +surveyed their surroundings. + +"You make camp, Bat," ordered the Texan, "while me an' Win hunt up the +spring. He said it was on the east side where there was a lot of loose +rock along the edge of the bull pine. We'll make the camp there, too, +where the wood an' water will be handy." + +Skirting the plateau, Tex led the way toward a point where a few +straggling pines showed gaunt and lean in the rapidly waning moonlight. + +"It ought to be somewheres around here," he said, as he stopped to +examine the ground more closely. "He said you had to pile off the +rocks 'til you come to the water an' then mud up a catch-basin." As he +talked, the cowboy groped among the loose rocks on his hands and knees, +pausing frequently to lay his ear to the ground. "Here she is!" he +exclaimed at length. "I can hear her drip! Come on, Win, we'll build +our well." + +Alice stood close beside her horse watching every move with intense +interest. + +"Who would have thought to look for water there?" she exclaimed. + +"I knew we'd find it just as he said," answered the Texan gravely. "He +was a good man, in his way--never run off no horses except from outfits +that could afford to lose 'em. Why, they say, he could have got plumb +away if he'd shot the posse man that run onto him over by the Mission. +But he knew the man was a nester with a wife an' two kids, so he took a +chance--an' the nester got him." + +"How could he?" cried the girl, "after----" + +The Texan regarded her gravely. "It was tough. An' he probably hated +to do it. But he was a sworn-in posse man, an' the other was a +horse-thief. It was just one of those things a man's got to do. Like +Jim Larkin, when he was sheriff, havin' to shoot his own brother, an' +him hardly more'n a kid that Jim had raised. But he'd gone plumb bad +an' swore never to be taken alive, so Jim killed him--an' then he +resigned. There ain't a man that knows Jim, that don't know he'd +rather a thousan' times over had the killin' happen the other way +'round. But he was a man. He had it to do--an' he done it." + +Alice shuddered: "And then--what became of him, then?" + +"Why, then, he went back to ranchin'. He owns the Bar X horse outfit +over on the White Mud. This here, Owen--that was his brother's +name--was just like a son to him. Jim tried to steer him straight, but +the kid was just naturally a bad egg. Feelin' it the way he does, a +lesser man might of squinted down the muzzle of his own gun, or gone +the whiskey route. But not him. To all appearances he's the same as +he always was. But some of us that know him best--we can see that he +ain't _quite_ the same as before--an' he never will be." + +There were tears in the girl's eyes as the man finished. + +"Oh, it's all wrong! It's cruel, and hard, and brutal, and wrong!" + +"No. It ain't wrong. It's hard, an' it's cruel, maybe, an' brutal. +But it's right. It ain't a country for weaklings--the cow country +ain't. It's a country where, every now an' then, a man comes square up +against something that he's got to do. An' that something is apt as +not to be just what he don't want to do. If he does it, he's a man, +an' the cow country needs him. If he don't do it, he passes on to +where there's room for his kind--an' the cow country don't miss him. A +man earns his place here, it ain't made for him--often he earns the +name by which he's called. I reckon it's the same all over--only this +is rawer." + +"Here's the water! And it is cold and sweet," called Endicott who had +been busily removing the loose rock fragments beneath which the spring +lay concealed. + +The Texan's interest centred on matters at hand: "You Bat, you make a +fire when you've finished with the horses." He turned again to the +girl: "If you'll be the cook, Win an' I'll mud up a catch-basin an' +rustle some firewood while Bat makes camp. We got to do all our +cookin' at night up here. A fire won't show above the rim yonder, but +in the daytime someone might see the smoke from ten mile off." + +"Of course, I'll do the cooking!" assented the girl, and began to carry +the camp utensils from the pack that the half-breed had thrown upon the +ground. "The dough-gods are all gone!" she exclaimed in dismay, +peering into a canvas bag. + +"Mix up some bakin'-powder ones. There's flour an' stuff in that brown +sack." + +"But--I don't know how!" + +"All right. Wait 'til I get Win strung out on this job, an' I'll make +up a batch." + +He watched Endicott arrange some stones: "Hey, you got to fit those +rocks in better'n that. Mud ain't goin' to hold without a good +backin'." + +The cowboy washed his hands in the overflow trickle and wiped them upon +his handkerchief. "I don't know what folks does all their lives back +East," he grinned; "Win, there, ain't barbered none to speak of, an' +the Lord knows he ain't no stone-mason." + +Alice did not return the smile, and the Texan noticed that her face was +grave in the pale starlight. For the first time in her life the girl +felt ashamed of her own incompetence. + +"And I can't cook, and----" + +"Well, that's so," drawled Tex, "but it won't be so tomorrow. No one +but a fool would blame any one for not doin' a thing they've never +learnt to do. They might wonder a little how-come they never learnt, +but they wouldn't hold it against 'em--not 'til they've had the +chance." Bat was still busy with the horses and the cowboy collected +sticks and lighted a small fire, talking, as he worked with swift +movements that accomplished much without the least show of haste. "It +generally don't take long in the cow country for folks to get their +chance. Take Win, there. Day before yesterday he was about the +greenest pilgrim that ever straddled a horse. Not only he didn't know +anything worth while knowin', but he was prejudiced. The first time I +looked at him I sized him up--almost. 'There's a specimen,' I says to +myself--while you an' Purdy was gossipin' about the handkerchief, an' +the dance, an' what a beautiful rider he was--'that's gone on gatherin' +refinement 'til it's crusted onto him so thick it's probably struck +through.' But just as I was losin' interest in him, he slanted a +glance at Purdy that made me look him over again. There he stood, just +the same as before--only different." The Texan poured some flour into +a pan and threw in a couple of liberal pinches of baking-powder. + +Alice's eyes followed his every movement, and she glanced toward the +spring that Endicott had churned into a mud hole. The cowboy noted her +glance. "It would be riled too much even if we strained it," he +smiled, "so we'll just use what's left in that flask. It don't take +much water an' the spring will clear in time for the coffee." + +"And some people never do learn?" Alice wanted to hear more from this +man's lips concerning the pilgrim. But the Texan mustn't know that she +wanted to hear. + +"Yes, some don't learn, some only half learn, an' some learn in a way +that carries 'em along 'til it comes to a pinch--they're the worst. +But, speakin' of Win, after I caught that look, the only surprise I got +when I heard he'd killed Purdy was that he _could_ do it--not that he +_would_. Then later, under certain circumstances that come to pass in +a coulee where there was cottonwoods, him an' I got better acquainted +yet. An' then in the matter of the reservoir--but you know more about +that than I do. You see what I'm gettin' at is this: Win can saddle +his own horse, now, an' he climbs onto him from the left side. The +next time he tackles it he'll shave, an' the next time he muds up a +catch-basin he'll mud it right. Day before yesterday he was about as +useless a lookin' piece of bric-a-brac as ever draw'd breath--an' look +at him now! There ain't been any real change. The man was there all +the time, only he was so well disguised that no one ever know'd +it--himself least of all. Yesterday I saw him take a chew off Bat's +plug--an' Bat don't offer his plug promiscuous. He'll go back East, +an' the refinement will cover him up again--an' that's a damned shame. +But he won't be just the same. It won't crust over no more, because +the prejudice is gone. He's chewed the meat of the cow country--an' +he's found it good." + +Later, long after the others had gone to sleep, Alice lay between her +blankets in the little shelter tent, thinking. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE TEXAN HEARS SOME NEWS + +Bat had pitched the tent upon a little knoll, screened by a jutting +shoulder of rock from the sleeping place of the others. When Alice +awoke it was broad daylight. She lay for a few moments enjoying the +delicious luxury of her blankets which the half-breed had spread upon a +foot-thick layer of boughs. The sun beat down upon the white canvas +and she realized that it was hot in the tent. The others must have +been up for hours and she resented their not having awakened her. She +listened for sounds, but outside all was silence and she dressed +hurriedly. Stepping from the tent, she saw the dead ashes of the +little fire and the contents of the packs apparently undisturbed, +covered with the tarp. She glanced at her watch. It was half past +nine. Suddenly she remembered that dawn had already began to grey the +east when they retired. She was the first one up! She would let the +others sleep. They needed it. She remembered the Texan had not slept +the day before, but had ridden away to return later with the clothing +for Endicott--and the whiskey. + +"I don't see why he has to drink!" she muttered, and making her way to +the spring, dipped some water from the catch-basin and splashed it over +her face and arms. The cold water dispelled the last vestige of +sleepiness and she stood erect and breathed deeply of the crystal air. +At the farther side of the bowl-like plateau the horses grazed +contentedly, and a tiny black and white woodpecker flew from tree to +tree pecking busily at the bark. Above the edge of the rim-rocks the +high-flung peaks of the Bear Paws belied the half-night's ride that +separated them from the isolated Antelope Butte. + +"What a view one should get from the edge!" she exclaimed, and turning +from the spring, made her way through the scraggly timber to the rock +wall beyond. It was not a long climb and five minutes later she stood +panting with exertion and leaned against an upstanding pinnacle of +jagged rock. For a long time she stood wonder-bound by the mighty +grandeur of the panorama that swept before her to lose itself somewhere +upon the dim horizon. Her brain grasped for details. It was all too +big--too unreal--too unlike the world she had known. In sheer +desperation, for sight of some familiar thing, her eyes turned toward +the camp. There was the little white tent, and the horses grazing +beyond. Her elevation carried her range of vision over the jutting +shoulder of rock, and she saw the Texan sitting beside his blankets +drawing on his boots. The blankets were mounded over the forms of the +others, and without disturbing them, the cowboy put on his hat and +started toward the spring. At the sight of the little tent he paused +and Alice saw him stand staring at the little patch of white canvas. +For a long time he stood unmoving, and then, impulsively, his two arms +stretched toward it. The arms were as quickly withdrawn. The Stetson +was lifted from his head and once more it seemed a long time that he +stood looking at the little tent with the soft brim of his Stetson +crushed tightly in his hand. + +Evidently, for fear of waking her, the man did not go to the spring, +but retraced his steps and Alice saw him stoop and withdraw something +from his war-bag. Thrusting the object beneath his shirt, he rose +slowly and made his way toward the rim-rock, choosing for his ascent a +steep incline which, with the aid of some rock ledges, would bring him +to the top at a point not ten yards from where she stood. + +It was with a sense of guilt that she realized she had spied upon this +man, and her cheeks flushed as she cast about desperately for a means +to escape unseen. But no such avenue presented itself, and she drew +back into a deep crevice of her rock pinnacle lest he see her. + +A grubby, stunted pine somehow managed to gain sustenance from the +stray earth among the rock cracks and screened her hiding-place. The +man was very close, now. She could hear his heavy breathing and the +click of his boot heels upon the bare rocks. Then he crossed to the +very verge of the precipice and seated himself with his feet hanging +over the edge. For some moments he sat gazing out over the bad lands, +and then his hand slipped into the front of his shirt and withdrew a +bottle of whiskey. + +The girl's lips tightened as she watched him from behind her screen of +naked roots and branches. He looked a long time at the bottle, shook +it, and held it to the sun as he contemplated the little beads that +sparkled at the edge of the liquor line. He read its label, and seemed +deeply interested in the lines of fine print contained upon an oval +sticker that adorned its back. Still holding the bottle, he once more +stared out over the bad lands. Then he drew the cork and smelled of +the liquor, breathing deeply of its fragrance, and turning, gazed +intently toward the little white tent beside the stunted pines. + +Alice saw that his eyes were serious as he set the bottle upon the rock +beside him. And then, hardly discernible at first, but gradually +assuming distinct form, a whimsical smile curved his lips as he looked +at the bottle. + +"Gosh!" he breathed, softly, "ain't you an' I had some nonsensical +times? I ain't a damned bit sorry, neither. But our trails fork here. +Maybe for a while--maybe for ever. But if it is for ever, my average +will be right honourable if I live to be a hundred." Alice noticed how +boyish the clean-cut features looked when he smiled that way. The +other smile--the masking, cynical smile--made him ten years older. The +face was once more grave, and he raised the bottle from the rock. "So +long," he said, and there was just that touch of honest regret in his +voice with which he would have parted from a friend. "So long. I've +got a choice to make--an' I don't choose you." + +The hand that held the bottle was empty. There was a moment of silence +and then from far below came the tinkle of smashing glass. The Texan +got up, adjusted the silk scarf at his neck, rolled a cigarette, and +clambering down the sharp descent, made his way toward the grazing +horses. Alice watched for a moment as he walked up to his own horse, +stroked his neck, and lightly cuffed at the ears which the horse laid +back as he playfully snapped at his master's hand. Then she scrambled +from her hiding-place and hurried unobserved to her tent, where she +threw herself upon the blankets with a sound that was somehow very like +a sob. + +When the breakfast of cold coffee and biscuits was finished the Texan +watched Endicott's clumsy efforts to roll a cigarette. + +"Better get you a piece of twine to do it with, Win," he grinned; "you +sure are a long ways from home when it comes to braidin' a smoke. Saw +a cow-hand do it once with one hand. In a show, it was in Cheyenne, +an' he sure was some cowboy--in the show. Come out onto the flats one +day where the boys was breakin' a bunch of Big O Little O +horses--'after local colour,' he said." The Texan paused and grinned +broadly. "Got it too. He clum up into the middle of a wall-eyed +buckskin an' the doc picked local colour out of his face for two hours +where he'd slid along on it--but he could roll a cigarette with one +hand. There, you got one at last, didn't you? Kind of humped up in +the middle like a snake that's swallowed a frog, but she draws all +right, an' maybe it'll last longer than a regular one." He turned to +Alice who had watched the operation with interest. + +"If you-all don't mind a little rough climbin', I reckon, you'd count +the view from the rim-rocks yonder worth seein'." + +"Oh, I'd love it!" cried the girl, as she scrambled to her feet. + +"Come on, Win," called the Texan, "I'll show you where God dumped the +tailin's when He finished buildin' the world." + +Together the three scaled the steep rock-wall. Alice, scorning +assistance, was the first to reach the top, and once more the splendour +of the magnificent waste held her speechless. + +For some moments they gazed in silence. Before them, bathed in a pale +amethyst haze that thickened to purple at the far-off edge of the +world, lay the bad lands resplendent under the hot glare of the sun in +vivid red and black and pink colouring of the lava rock. Everywhere +the eye met the flash and shimmer of mica fragments that sparkled like +the facets of a million diamonds, while to the northward the Bear Paws +reared cool and green, with the grass of the higher levels reaching +almost to the timber line. + +"Isn't it wonderful?" breathed the girl. "Why do people stay cooped up +in the cities, when out here there is--this?" Endicott's eyes met +hers, and in their depths she perceived a newly awakened fire. She was +conscious of a strange glow at her heart--a mighty gladness welled up +within her, permeating her whole being. "He has awakened," her brain +repeated over and over again, "he has----" + +The voice of the Texan fell upon her ears softly as from a distance, +and she turned her eyes to the boyish faced cow-puncher who viewed life +lightly and who, she had learned, was the thorough master of his +wilderness, and very much a man. + +"I love it too," he was saying. "This bad land best of all. What with +the sheep, an' the nesters, the range country must go. But barbed-wire +can never change this," his arm swept the vast plain before him. "I +suppose God foreseen what the country was comin' to," he speculated, +"an' just naturally stuck up His 'keep off' sign on places here an' +there--the Sahara Desert, an' Death Valley, an' the bad lands. He +wanted somethin' left like He made it. Yonder's the Little Rockies, +an' them big black buttes to the south are the Judith, an' you can +see--way beyond the Judith--if you look close--the Big Snowy Mountains. +They're more than a hundred miles away." + +The cowboy ceased speaking suddenly. And Alice, following his gaze, +made out far to the north-eastward a moving speck. The Texan crouched +and motioned the others into the shelter of a rock. "Wish I had a pair +of glasses," he muttered, with his eyes on the moving dot. + +"What is it?" asked the girl. + +"Rider of some kind. Maybe the I X round-up is workin' the south +slope. An' maybe it's just a horse-thief. But it mightn't be either. +Guess I'll just throw the hull on that cayuse of mine an' siyou down +and see. He's five or six miles off yet, an' I've got plenty of time +to slip down there. Glad the trail's on the west side. You two stay +up here, but you got to be awful careful not to show yourselves. Folks +down below look awful little from here, but if they've got glasses +you'd loom up plenty big, an' posse men's apt to pack glasses." The +two followed him to camp and a few moments later watched him ride off +at a gallop and disappear in the scrub that concealed the mouth of the +precipitous trail. + +Hardly had he passed from sight than Bat rose and, walking to his +saddle, uncoiled his rope. + +"Where are you going?" asked Endicott as the half-breed started toward +the horses. + +"Me, oh, A'm trail long behine. Mebbe-so two kin see better'n wan." + +A few minutes later he too was swallowed up in the timber at the head +of the trail, and Alice and Endicott returned to the rim-rocks and from +a place of concealment watched with breathless interest the course of +the lone horseman. + +After satisfying himself he was unobserved, the Texan pushed from the +shelter of the rocks at the foot of the trail and, circling the butte, +struck into a coulee that led south-eastward into the bad lands. A +mile away he crossed a ridge and gained another coulee which he +followed northward. + +"If he's headin' into the bad lands I'll meet up with him, an' if he's +just skirtin' 'em, our trails'll cross up here a piece," he reasoned as +his horse carried him up the dry ravine at a steady walk. Presently he +slanted into a steep side coulee that led upward to the crest of a long +flat ridge. For a moment he paused as his eyes swept the landscape and +then suddenly a quarter of a mile away a horseman appeared out of +another coulee. He, too, paused and, catching sight of the Texan, dug +in his spurs and came toward him at a run. + +The cowboy's brows drew into a puzzled frown as he studied the rapidly +approaching horseman. "Well, I'll be damned!" he grinned, "ain't he +the friendly young spirit! His ma had ought to look after him better'n +that an' teach him some manners. The idea of any one chargin' up to a +stranger that way in the bad lands! One of these days he's a-goin' to +run up again' an abrupt foreshortin' of his reckless young career." +The rider was close now and the Texan recognized a self-important young +jackass who had found work with one of the smaller outfits. + +"It's that mouthy young short-horn from the K 2," he muttered, +disgustedly. "Well, he'll sure cut loose an' earful of small talk. He +hates himself, like a peacock." The cowboy pulled up his horse with a +vicious jerk that pinked the foam at the animal's mouth and caused a +little cloud of dust to rise into the air. Then, for a moment, he sat +and stared. + +"If you was in such a hell of a hurry," drawled the Texan, "you could +of rode around me. There's room on either side." + +The cowboy found his voice. "Well, by gosh, if it ain't Tex! How they +stackin', old hand?" + +"Howdy," replied the Texan, dryly. + +"You take my advice an' lay low here in the bad lands an' they won't +ketch you. I said it right in the Long Horn yeste'day mornin'--they +was a bunch of us lappin' 'em up. Old Pete was there--an' I says to +Pete, I says, 'Take it from me they might ketch all the rest of 'em but +they won't never ketch Tex!' An' Pete, he says, 'You're just right +there, Joe,' an' then he takes me off to one side, old Pete does, an' +he says, 'Joe,' he says, 'I've got a ticklish job to be done, an' I +ain't got another man I kin bank on puttin' it through.'" + +The Texan happened to know that Mr. Peter G. Kester, owner of the K 2, +was a very dignified old gentleman who left the details of his ranch +entirely in the hands of his foreman, and the idea of his drinking in +the Long Horn with his cowboys was as unique as was hearing him +referred to as "Old Pete." + +"What's ailin' him?" asked the Texan. "Did he lose a hen, or is he +fixin' to steal someone's mewl?" + +"It's them Bar A saddle horses," continued the cowboy, without noticing +the interruption. "He buys a string of twenty three-year-olds offen +the Bar A an' they broke out of the pasture. They range over here on +the south slope, an' if them horse-thieves down in the bad lands has +got 'em they're a-goin' to think twict before they run off any more K 2 +horses, as long as I'm workin' fer the outfit." + +"Are you aimin' to drive twenty head of horses off their own range +single handed?" + +"Sure. You can do it easy if you savvy horses." + +The Texan refrained from comment. He wanted to know who was supposed +to be interested in catching him, and why. Had someone told the truth +about the lynching, and was he really wanted for aiding and abetting +the pilgrim's escape? + +"I reckon that's true," he opined. "They can't get me here in the bad +lands." + +The other laughed: "You bet they can't! Say, that was some ride you +put up down to Wolf River. None of us could have done better." + +"Did you say they was headin' this way?" + +"Who?" + +"Who would I be thinkin' about now, I wonder?" + +"Oh! Naw! They ain't ready to make any arrests yet. The grand jury +set special an' returned a lot of indictments an' you're one of 'em, +but the districk attorney, he claims he can't go ahead until he digs up +the cripus delinkty----" + +"The what?" + +"Oh, that's a nickname the lawyers has got fer a pilgrim." + +"Wasn't one stranglin' enough for spreadin' out Purdy? What do they +want of the pilgrim?" + +"Spreadin' out Purdy!" exclaimed the other, "don't you know that Purdy +didn't stay spread? Wasn't hardly hurt even. The pilgrim's bullet +just barely creased him, an' when Sam Moore went back with a spring +wagon to fetch his remains, Purdy riz up an' started cussin' him out +an' scairt Sam so his team run away an' he lost his voice an' ain't +spoke out loud since--an' them's only one of the things he done. So, +you see, you done your lynching too previous, an' folks is all stirred +up about it, holdin' that lawless acts has got to be put a stop to in +Choteau County, an' a pilgrim has got as good a right to live as the +next one. They're holdin' that even if he had got Purdy it would of +be'n a damn good thing, an' they wasn't no call to stretch a man for +that. So the grand jury set, an' the districk attorney has got a gang +of men diggin' up all the coulees for miles around, a-huntin' for the +pilgrim's cripus delinkty so he kin go ahead with his arrests." + +The eyes of the Texan were fixed on the mountains. He appeared not +interested. Twenty feet away in a deep crevice at the edge of the +coulee, Bat Lajune, who had overheard every word, was convulsed with +silent mirth. + +"You say they've dug up all the coulees? Red Rock an'--an' all, +Buffalo, Six-mile, Woodpile, Miller's?" The Texan shot out the names +with all appearance of nervous haste, but his eye was sombre as before +as he noted the gleam of quick intelligence that flashed into the +cowboy's eyes. "You're sure they dug up Buffalo?" he pressed shrewdly. + +"Yes, I think they finished there." + +The Texan gave a visible sigh of relief. "Say," he asked, presently, +"do you know if they're fordin' at Cow Island this year?" + +"Yes, the Two Bar reps come by that way." + +"I'm right obliged to you. I reckon I'll head north, though. Canada +looks good to me 'til this here wave of virtue blows over. So long." + +"So long, Tex. An', say, there's some of us friends of yourn that's +goin' to see what we kin do about gettin' them indictments squashed. +We don't want to see you boys doin' time fer stretchin' no pilgrim." + +"You won't," answered the Texan. "Toddle along now an' hunt up Mr. +Kester's horses. I want room to think." He permitted himself a broad +smile as the other rode at a gallop toward the mountains, then turned +his horse into the coulee he had just left and allowed him his own pace. + +"So Purdy ain't dead," he muttered, "or was that damned fool lyin'? I +reckon he wasn't lyin' about that, an' the grand jury, an' the district +attorney." Again he smiled. "Let's see how I stack up, now: In the +first place, Win ain't on the run, an' I am--or I'm supposed to be. +But, as long as they don't dig Win up out of the bottom of some coulee, +I'm at large for want of a party of the first part to the alleged +felonious snuffin'-out. Gosh, I bet the boys are havin' fun watchin' +that diggin'. If I was there I'd put in my nights makin' fresh-dug +spots, an' my days watchin' 'em prospect 'em." Then his thoughts +turned to the girl, and for miles he rode unheeding. The sun had swung +well to the westward before the cowboy took notice of his surroundings. +Antelope Butte lay ten or twelve miles away and he headed for it with a +laugh. "You must have thought I sure enough was headin' for Cow Island +Crossing didn't you, you old dogie chaser?" He touched his horse +lightly with his spurs and the animal struck into a long swinging trot. + +"This here's a mixed-up play all around," he muttered. "Win's worryin' +about killin' Purdy--says it's got under his hide 'til he thinks about +it nights. It ain't so much bein' on the run that bothers him as it is +the fact that he's killed a man." He smiled to himself: "A little +worryin' won't hurt him none. Any one that would worry over shootin' a +pup like Purdy ought to worry--whether he done it or not. Then, +there's me. I start out with designs as evil an' triflin' as +Purdy's--only I ain't a brute--an' I winds up by lovin' her. +Yes--that's the word. There ain't no mortal use beatin' around the +bush to fool myself. Spite of silk stockin's she's good clean through. +I reckon, maybe, they're wore more promiscuous in the East. That Eagle +Creek Ranch, if them corrals was fixed up a little an' them old cattle +sheds tore down, an' the ditches gone over, it would be a good outfit. +If it was taken hold of right, there wouldn't be a better proposition +on the South Slope." Gloom settled upon the cowboy's face: "But +there's Win. I started out to show him up." He smiled grimly. "Well, +I did. Only not just exactly as I allowed to. Lookin' over the +back-trail, I reckon, when us four took to the brush there wasn't only +one damned skunk in the crowd--an' that was me. It's funny a man can +be that ornery an' never notice it. But, I bet Bat knew. He's pure +gold, Bat is. He's about as prepossessin' to look at as an old gum +boot, but his heart's all there--an' you bet, Bat, he knows." + +It was within a quarter of a mile of Antelope Butte that the Texan, +riding along the bottom of a wide coulee met another horseman. This +time there was no spurring toward him, and he noticed that the man's +hand rested near his right hip. He shifted his own gun arm and +continued on his course without apparently noticing the other who +approached in the same manner. + +Suddenly he laughed: "Hello, Curt!" + +"Well, I'm damned if it ain't Tex! Thought maybe I was going to get +the high-sign." + +"Same here." Both men relaxed from their attitude of alertness, and +Curt leaned closer. + +"They ain't dug him up yet," he said, "but they sure are slingin' +gravel. I hope to God they don't." + +"They won't." + +"Anything I can do?" + +The Texan shook his head: "Nothin', thanks." + +"Hot as hell fer June, ain't it." + +"Yes; who you ridin' for?" + +"K 2." + +"K 2! Mister Kester moved his outfit over to the south slope?" + +"Naw. I'm huntin' a couple of old brood mares Mister Kester bought +offen the Bar A. They strayed away about a week ago." + +"Alone?" + +"Might better be," replied the cowboy in tones of disgust. "I've got +that damned fool, Joe Ainslee, along--or ruther I had him. Bob +Brumley's foreman of the K 2, now, an' he hired the Wind Bag in a +moment of mental abortion, as the fellow says, an' he don't dast fire +him for fear he'll starve to death. They wouldn't no other outfit have +him around. An' I'm thinkin' he'll be damn lucky if he lives long +enough to starve to death. Bob sent him along with me--said he'd do +less harm than with the round-up, an' would be safer--me bein' amiable +enough not to kill him offhand." + +"Ain't you found your mares?" + +Curt snorted: "Yes. Found 'em couple hours ago. An' now I've lost the +Wind Bag. Them mares was grazin' right plumb in plain sight of where +I'd sent him circlin', an' doggone if he not only couldn't find 'em, +but he's lost hisself. An' if he don't show up pretty damn _pronto_ he +kin stay lost--an' the K 2 will win, at that." + +The Texan grinned: "Go get your mares, Curt. The short-horn has +stampeded. I shouldn't wonder if he's a-foggin' it through the +mountains right now to get himself plumb famous for tippin' off the +district attorney where to do his minin'." + +"You seen him!" + +"Yes, we had quite a little pow-wow." + +"You sure didn't let him git holt of nothin'!" + +"Yes. He's about to bust with the information he gathered. An' say, +he might of seen them mares an' passed 'em up. He ain't huntin' no +brood mares, he's after twenty head of young saddle stock--forgot to +mention there was any one with him. Said it was easy to run +three-year-olds off their own range single handed if you savvied +horses. Called Mister Kester 'Old Pete' an' told of an orgy they had +mutual in the Long Horn." + +Curt burst out laughing: "Can you beat it?" + +"I suppose they'll have Red Rock Coulee all mussed up," reflected the +Texan, with a grin. + +"You wait 'til I tell the boys." + +"Don't you. They'd hurt him. He's a-whirlin' a bigger loop than he +can throw, the way it is." + +Curt fumbled in his slicker and produced a flask which he tendered. + +Tex shook his head: "No thanks, I ain't drinkin'." + +"You ain't _what_?" + +"No, I'm off of it"; he dismounted and tightened his cinch, and the +other followed his example. + +"Off of it! You ain't sick, or nothin'?" + +"No. Can't a man----?" + +"Oh, sure, he could, but he wouldn't, onless--you got your camp near +here?" + +Tex was aware the other was eyeing him closely. + +"Tolerable." + +"Let's go camp then. I left my pack horse hobbled way up on Last +Water." + +The Texan was thinking rapidly. Curt was a friend of long standing and +desired to share his camp, which is the way of the cow country. Yet, +manifestly this was impossible. There was only one way out and that +was to give offence. + +"No. I'm campin' alone these days." + +A slow red mounted to the other's face and his voice sounded a trifle +hard: "Come on up to mine, then. It ain't so far." + +"I said I was campin' alone." + +The red was very apparent now, and the other took a step forward, and +his words came slowly: + +"Peck Maguire told me, an' I shut his dirty mouth for him. But now I +know it's true. You're ridin' with the pilgrim's girl." + +At the inference the Texan whitened to the eyes. "_You're a damned +liar_!" The words came evenly but with a peculiar venom. + +Curt half drew his gun. Then jammed it back in the holster. "Not +between friends," he said shortly, "but jest the same you're goin' to +eat them words. It ain't a trick I'd think of you--to run off with a +man's woman after killin' him. If he was alive it would be different. +I'd ort to shoot it out with you, I suppose, but I can't quite forget +that time in Zortman when you----" + +"Don't let that bother you," broke in the Texan with the same evenness +of tone. "_You're a damned liar_!" + +With a bound the man was upon him and Tex saw a blinding flash of +light, and the next moment he was scrambling from the ground. After +that the fight waxed fast and furious, each man giving and receiving +blows that landed with a force that jarred and rocked. Then, the Texan +landed heavily upon the point of his opponent's chin and the latter +sank limp to the floor of the coulee. For a full minute Tex stood +looking down at his victim. + +"Curt can scrap like the devil. I'm sure glad he didn't force no gun +play, I'd have hated to hurt him." He recovered the flask from the +ground where the other had dropped it, and forced some whiskey between +his lips. Presently the man opened his eyes. + +"Feelin' better?" asked the Texan as Curt blinked up at him. + +"Um-hum. My head aches some." + +"Mine, too." + +"You got a couple of black eyes, an' your lip is swol up." + +"One of yours is turnin' black." + +Curt regained his feet and walked slowly toward his horse. "Well, I'll +be goin'. So long." + +"So long," answered the Texan. He, too, swung into the saddle and each +rode upon his way. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +BACK IN CAMP + +From their place of concealment high upon the edge of Antelope Butte, +Alice Marcum and Endicott watched the movements of the three horsemen +with absorbing interest. They saw the Texan circle to the +south-eastward and swing north to intercept the trail of the unknown +rider. They watched Bat, with Indian cunning, creep to his place of +concealment at the edge of the coulee. They saw the riders disperse, +the unknown to head toward the mountains at a gallop, and the Texan to +turn his horse southward and ride slowly into the bad lands. And they +watched Bat recover his own horse from behind a rock pinnacle and +follow the Texan, always keeping out of sight in parallel coulees until +both were swallowed up in the amethyst haze of the bad lands. + +For an hour they remained in their lookout, pointing out to each other +some new wonder of the landscape--a wind-carved pinnacle, the +heliographic flashing of the mica, or some new combination in the +ever-changing splendour of colours. + +"Whew! But it's hot, and I'm thirsty. And besides it's lunch time." +Alice rose, and with Endicott following, made her way to the camp. + +"Isn't it wonderful?" she breathed, as they ate their luncheon. "This +life in the open--the pure clean air--the magnificent world all spread +out before you, beckoning you on, and on, and on. It makes a person +strong with just the feel of living--the joy of it. Just think, +Winthrop, of being able to eat left-over biscuits and cold bacon and +enjoy it!" + +Endicott smiled: "Haven't I improved enough, yet, for 'Win'?--Tex +thinks so." + +The girl regarded him critically. "I have a great deal of respect for +Tex's judgment," she smiled. + +"Then, dear, I am going to ask you again, the question I have asked you +times out of number: Will you marry me?" + +"Don't spoil it all, now, please. I am enjoying it so. Enjoying being +here with just you and the big West. Oh, this is the real West--the +West of which I've dreamed!" + +Endicott nodded: "Yes, this is the West. You were right, Alice. +California is no more the West than New York is." + +"Don't you love it?" The girl's eyes were shining with enthusiasm. + +"Yes. I love it," he answered, and she noticed that his face was very +grave. "There must be something--some slumbering ego in every man that +awakens at the voice of the wild places. Our complex system of +civilization seems to me, as I sit here now, a little thing--a thing, +somehow, remote--unnecessary, and very undesirable." + +"Brooklyn seems very far away," murmured the girl. + +"And Cincinnati--but not far enough away. We know they are real--that +they actually exist." Endicott rose and paced back and forth. +Suddenly he stopped before the girl. "Marry me, Alice, and I'll buy a +ranch and we will live out here, and for us Brooklyn and Cincinnati +need never exist. I do love it all, but I love you a thousand times +more." + +To Endicott's surprise the girl's eyes dropped before his gaze and +rested for a long time upon the grazing horses--then abruptly she +buried her face in her arms. The man had half expected a return to the +light half-mocking raillery that had been her staunchest weapon, but +there was nothing even remotely suggestive of raillery in the figure +that huddled at his feet. Suddenly, his face became very grave: +"Alice," he cried, bending over her, "is it because my hands are red? +Because I have taken a human life, and am flying from the hand of the +law like a common murderer?" + +"No, no, no! Not that? I----" + +Swiftly he gathered her into his arms, but she freed herself and shook +her head in protest. "Don't please," she pleaded softly. "Oh, I--I +can't choose." + +"Choose!" cried Endicott. "Then there is--someone else? You have +found--" he stopped abruptly and drew a long breath. "I see," he said, +gently, "I think I understand." + +The unexpected gentleness of the voice caused the girl to raise her +head. Endicott stood as he had stood a moment before, but his gaze was +upon the far mountains. The girl's eyes were wet with tears: "Yes, +I--he loves me--and he asked me to marry him. He said I would marry +either you or him, and he would wait for me to decide--until I was +sure." Her voice steadied, and Endicott noticed that it held a trace +of defensive. "He's a dear, and--I know--way down in his heart he's +good--he's----" + +Endicott smiled: "Yes, little girl, he is good. He's a man--every inch +of him. And he's a man among men. He's honest and open hearted and +human. There is not a mean hair in his head. And he stands a great +deal nearer the top of his profession than I do to the top of mine. I +have been a fool, Alice. I can see now what a complacent fool and a +cad I must have been--when I could look at these men and see nothing +but uncouthness. But, thank God, men can change----" + +Impulsively the girl reached for his hand: "No," she murmured, +remembering the words of the Texan, "no, the man was there all the +time. The real man that is _you_ was concealed by the unreal man that +is superficiality." + +"Thank you, Alice," he said gravely. "And for your sake--and I say it +an all sincerity--let the best man win!" + +The girl smiled up into his face: "And in all sincerity I will say that +in all your life you have never seemed so--so marryable as you do right +now." + +While Endicott cut a supply of fire-wood and tinkered about the spring, +the girl made a complete circuit of the little plateau, and as the +shadows began to lengthen they once more climbed to their lookout +station. For an hour the vast corrugated plane before them showed no +sign of life. Suddenly the girl's fingers clutched Endicott's arm and +she pointed to a lone horseman who rode from the north. + +"I wonder if he's the same one we saw before--the one who rode away so +fast?" + +"Not unless he has changed horses," answered Endicott. "The other rode +a grey." + +The man swung from his horse and seemed to be minutely studying the +ground. Then he mounted and headed down the coulee at a trot. + +"Look! There is Tex!" cried Endicott, and he pointed farther down the +same coulee. A sharp bend prevented either rider from noticing the +approach of the other. + +"Oh, I wonder who it is, and what will happen when they see each +other?" cried the girl. "Look! There is Bat. Near the top of that +ridge. He's cutting across so he'll be right above them when they +meet." She was leaning forward watching: breathlessly the movements of +the three horsemen. "It is unreal. Just like some great spectacular +play. You see the actors moving through their parts and you wonder +what is going to happen next and how it is all going to work out." + +"There! They see each other!" Endicott exclaimed. Each horseman +pulled up, hesitated a moment, and rode on. Distance veiled from the +eager onlookers the significant detail of the shifted gun arms. But no +such preclusion obstructed Bat's vision as he lay flattened upon the +rim of the coulee with the barrel of his six-gun resting upon the edge +of a rock, and its sights lined low upon the stranger's armpit. + +"They've dismounted," observed Alice, "I believe Tex is going to +unsaddle." + +"Tightening his cinch," ventured Endicott, and was interrupted by a cry +from the lips of the girl. + +"Look! The other! He's going to shoot---- Why, they're fighting!" +Fighting they certainly were, and Endicott stared in surprise as he saw +the Texan knocked down and then spring to his feet and attack his +assailant with a vigour that rendered impossible any further attempt to +follow the progress of the combat. + +"Why doesn't Bat shoot, or go down there and help him?" cried the girl, +as with clenched fists she strained her eyes in a vain effort to see +who was proving the victor. + +"This does not seem to be a shooting affair," Endicott answered, "and +it is my own private opinion that Tex is abundantly able to take care +of himself. Ah--he got him that time! He's down for the count! Good +work, Tex, old man! A good clean knockout!" + +The two watched as the men mounted and rode their several ways--the +stranger swinging northward toward the mountains, and the Texan +following along the south face of the butte. + +"Some nice little meetings they have out here," grinned Endicott. "I +wonder if the vanquished one was a horse-thief or just an ordinary +friend." + +Alice returned the smile: "You used to rather go in for boxing in +college, didn't you?" + +"Oh, yes. I can hold my own when it comes to fists---- + +"And--you can shoot." + +The man shook his head: "Do you know that was the first time I ever +fired a pistol in my life. I don't like to think about it. And yet--I +am always thinking about it! I have killed a man--have taken a human +life. I did it without malice--without forethought. All I knew was +that you were in danger, then I saw him fling you from him--the pistol +was in my hand, and I fired." + +"You need have no regrets," answered the girl, quickly. "It was his +life or both of ours--worse than that--a thousand times worse." + +Endicott was silent as the two turned toward the plateau. "Why, +there's Bat's horse, trotting over to join the others, and unsaddled, +too," cried Alice. "He has beaten Tex to camp. Bat is a dear, and he +just adores the ground Tex walks on, or 'rides on' would be more +appropriate, for I don't think he ever walked more than a hundred feet +in his life." + +Sure enough, when they reached camp there sat the half-breed placidly +mending a blanket, with the bored air of one upon whom time hangs +heavily. He looked up as Endicott greeted him. + +"Mebbe-so dat better you don' say nuttin' 'bout A'm gon' 'way from +here," he grinned. "Tex she com' 'long pret' queek, now. Mebbe-so he +t'ink dat better A'm stay roun' de camp. But _Voila_! How A'm know he +ain' gon for git hurt?" + +"But he did--" Alice paused abruptly with the sentences unfinished, +for the sound of galloping hoofs reached her ears and she looked up to +see the Texan swing from his horse, strip off the saddle and bridle and +turn the animal loose. + +"Oh," she cried, as the man joined them after spreading his saddle +blanket to dry. "Your eyes are swollen almost shut and your lip is +bleeding!" + +"Yes," answered the cowboy with a contortion of the stiff, swollen lip +that passed for a smile. "I rounded the bend in a coulee down yonder +an' run plumb against a hard projection." + +"They certainly are hard--I have run against those projections myself," +grinned Endicott. "You see, we had what you might call ringside seats, +and I noticed that it didn't take you very long to come back with some +mighty stiff projecting yourself." + +"Yes. Him pastin' me between the eyes that way, I took as an +onfriendly act, an' one I resented." + +"That wallop you landed on his chin was a beautiful piece of work." + +"Yes, quite comely." The cowboy wriggled his fingers painfully. "But +these long-horns that's raised on salt-horse an' rawhide, maintains a +jaw on 'em that makes iron an' granite seem right mushy. I didn't +figure I'd recount the disturbance, aimin' to pass it off casual +regardin' the disfigurin' of my profile. But if you-all witnessed the +debate, I might as well go ahead an' oncork the details. In the first +place, this warrior is a deputy that's out after Win." + +The Texan glanced sharply at Bat who became suddenly seized with a fit +of coughing, but the face of the half-breed was impassive--even sombre +as he worked at the blanket. "It's all owin' to politics," continued +the cowpuncher, rolling and lighting a cigarette. "Politics, an' the +fact that the cow country is in its dotage. Choteau County is growin' +effeminate, not to say right down effete when a lynchin', that by +rights it would be stretching its importance even to refer to it in +conversation, is raised to the dignity of a political issue. As +everyone knows, a hangin' is always a popular play, riddin' the +community of an ondesirable, an' at the same time bein' a warnin' to +others to polish up their rectitude. But it seems, from what I was +able to glean, that this particular hangin' didn't win universal +acclaim, owin' to the massacre of Purdy not bein' deplored none." + +Once more the half-breed emitted a strangling cough, and Tex eyed him +narrowly. "Somethin' seems to ail your throat." + +"_Oui_, A'm swal' de piece tabac'." + +"Well just hang onto it 'til it gets a little darker an' we'll have +supper," said the Texan, dryly, and resumed. + +"So there was some talk disparagin' to the lynchin', an' the party +that's in, holdin' its tenure by the skin of its teeth, an' election +comin' on, sided in with public opinion an' frowned on the lynchin', +not as a hangin', you onderstand, but because the hangin' didn't +redound none to their particular credit--it not being legal an' +regular. All this is brewed while the dance is goin' on, an' by +breakfast time next mornin', there bein' a full quorum of Republican +war chiefs on hand, they pulls a pow-wow an' instructs their deputies +to round up the lynchers. This is done, barrin' a few that's flitted, +the boys bein' caught unawares. Well, things begun lookin' serious to +'em, an' as a last resort they decided to fall back on the truth. So +they admits that there ain't no lynchin'. They tells how, after they'd +got out on the bench a piece they got to thinkin' that the demise of +Purdy ain't a serious matter, nohow, so they turned him loose. 'Where +is he, then?' says a county commissioner. 'Search us,' replies the +culprits. 'We just turned him loose an' told him to _vamoose_. We +didn't stick around an' herd him!'" Again Bat coughed, and the Texan +glared at him. + +"Maybe a drink of water would help them lacerated pipes of yourn," he +suggested, "an' besides it's dark enough so you can start supper +a-goin'." + +"But," said Endicott, "won't that get the boys all into serious trouble +for aiding and abetting a prisoner to escape? Accessories after the +fact, is what the law calls them." + +"Oh Lord," groaned the Texan inwardly. "If I can steer through all +this without ridin' into my own loop, I'll be some liar. This on top +of what I told 'em in Wolf River, an' since, an' about Purdy's +funeral--I dastn't bog down, now!" + +"No," he answered, as he lighted another cigarette. "There comes in +your politics again. You see, there was twenty-some-odd of us--an' +none friendless. Take twenty-odd votes an' multiply 'em by the number +of friends each has got--an' I reckon ten head of friends apiece +wouldn't overshoot the figure--an' you've got between two hundred an' +three hundred votes--which is a winnin' majority for any candidate +among 'em. Knowin' this, they wink at the jail delivery an' cinch +those votes. But, as I said before, hangin' is always a popular +measure, an' as they want credit for yourn, they start all the deputies +they got out on a still-hunt for you, judgin' it not to be hard to find +a pilgrim wanderin' about at large. An' this party I met up with was +one of 'em." + +"Did he suspect that we were with you?" asked Alice, her voice +trembling with anxiety. + +"Such was the case--his intimation bein' audible, and venomous. I +denied it in kind, an' one word leadin' to another, he called me a +liar. To which statement, although to a certain extent veracious, I +took exception, an' in the airy persiflage that ensued, he took umbrage +to an extent that it made him hostile. Previous to this little +altercation, he an' I had been good friends, and deemin', rightly, that +it wasn't a shootin' matter, he ondertook to back up his play with his +fists, and he hauled off an' smote me between the eyes before I'd +devined his intentions. Judgin' the move unfriendly, not to say right +downright aggressive, I come back at him with results you-all noted. +An' that's all there was to the incident of me showin' up with black +eyes, an' a lip that would do for a pin cushion." + +All during supper and afterward while the half-breed was washing the +dishes, the Texan eyed him sharply, and several times caught the flash +of a furtive smile upon the habitually sombre face. + +"He knows somethin' mirthful," thought the cowboy, "I noticed it +particular, when I was flounderin' up to my neck in the mire of +deception. The old reprobate ain't easy amused, either." + +Alice retired early, and before long Endicott, too, sought his +blankets. The moon rose, and the Texan strolled over to the grazing +horses. Returning, he encountered Bat seated upon a rock at some +distance from camp, watching him. The half-breed was grinning openly +now, broadly, and with evident enjoyment. Tex regarded him with a +frown: "For a Siwash you're plumb mirthful an' joyous minded. In fact +I ain't noticed any one so wrapped up in glee for quite a spell. +Suppose you just loosen up an' let me in on the frivolity, an' at the +same time kind of let it appear where you put in the day. I mistrusted +my packin' a pair of purple ones wouldn't give you the whoopin' cough, +so I just sauntered over an' took a look at the cayuses. Yourn's be'n +rode 'til he's sweat under the blanket--an' he ain't soft neither." + +"_Oui_, A'm fol' 'long we'n you make de ride. A'm t'ink mebbe-so two +better'n wan." + +"Well, I was weaned right young, an' I don't need no governess. After +this you----" + +The half-breed shrugged: "A'm tink dat tam way back in Las Vegas dat +dam' good t'ing ol' Bat fol' 'long, or else, ba Goss, you gon' to hell +for sure." + +"But that's no sign I've always got to be close-herded. Did you sneak +up near enough to hear what the short-horn said?" + +"_Oui_, A'm hear dat. She mak' me laugh lak' hell." + +"Laugh! I didn't see nothin' so damn hilarious in it. What do you +think about Purdy?" + +"A'm tink dat dam' bad luck she no git keel." The half-breed paused +and grinned: "De pilgrim she mak' de run for nuttin', an' you got to +ke'p on lyin' an' lyin', an bye-m-bye you got so dam' mooch lies you +git los'. So far, dat work out pret' good. De pilgrim gon' ke'p on de +run, 'cause he no lak' for git stretch for politick, an' you git mor' +chance for make de play for de girl." + +"What do you mean?" The Texan's eyes flashed. "I just knocked the +livin' hell out of one fellow for makin' a crack about that girl." + +"_Oui_, A'm know 'bout dat, too. Dat was pret' good, but nex' tam dat +better you start in fightin' fore you git knock clean across de coulee +firs'. A'm lak dat girl. She dam' fine 'oman, you bet. A'm no lak' +she git harm." + +"See here, Bat," interrupted the Texan, "no matter what my intentions +were when I started out, they're all right now." + +"_Oui_, A'm know dat, 'bout two day." + +"It's this way, I be'n thinkin' quite a bit the last couple of days +there ain't a thing in hellin' around the country punchin' other folks' +cattle for wages. It's time I was settlin' down. If that girl will +take a long shot an' marry me, I'm goin' to rustle around an' start an +outfit of my own. I'll be needin' a man about your heft an' complexion +to help me run it, too--savvy?" + +The half-breed nodded slowly. "_Oui_, all de tam A'm say: 'Some tam +Tex she queet de dam' foolin', an' den she git to be de beeg man.' I +ain' tink you git dis 'oman, but dat don' mak' no differ', som' tam you +be de beeg man yet. Som' nodder 'oman com' 'long----" + +"To hell with some other woman!" flared the Texan. "I tell you I'll +have that girl or I'll never look at another woman. There ain't +another woman in the world can touch her. You think you're wise as +hell, but I'll show you!" + +The half-breed regarded him gloomily: "A'm tink dat 'oman de pilgrim +'oman." + +"Oh, you do, do you? Well, just you listen to me. She ain't--not yet. +It's me an' the pilgrim for her. If she ties to him instead of me, +it's all right. She'll get a damn good man. Take me, an' all of a +sudden throw me into the middle of _his_ country, an' I doubt like hell +if I'd show up as good as he did in mine. Whatever play goes on +between me an' the pilgrim, will be on the square--with one deck, an' +the cards on the table. There's only one thing I'm holdin' out on him, +an' that is about Purdy. An' that ain't an onfair advantage, because +it's his own fault he's worryin' about it. An' if it gives me a better +chance with her, I'm goin' to grab it. An' I'll win, too. But, if I +don't win, I don't reckon it'll kill me. Sometimes when I get to +thinkin' about it I almost wish it would--I'm that damned close to +bein' yellow." + +Bat laughed. The idea of the Texan being yellow struck him as +humorous. "I'm wonder how mooch more beeg lie you got for tell, eh?" + +Tex was grinning now, "Search me. I had to concoct some excuse for +getting 'em started--two or three excuses. An' it looks like I got to +keep on concoctin' 'em to keep 'em goin'. But it don't hurt no +one--lyin' like that, don't. It don't hurt the girl, because she's +bound to get one of us. It don't hurt the pilgrim, because we'll see +him through to the railroad. It don't hurt you, because you don't +believe none of it. An' it don't hurt me, because I'm used to it--an' +there you are. But that don't give you no license to set around an' +snort an' gargle while I'm tellin' 'em. I got trouble enough keepin' +'em plausible an' entangled, without you keepin' me settin' on a cactus +for fear you'll give it away. What you got to do is to back up my +play--remember them four bits I give you way back in Los Vegas? Well, +here's where I'm givin' you a chance to pay dividends on them four +bits." + +Bat grinned: "You go 'head an' mak' you play. You fin' out I ain't +forgit dat four bit. She ain' mooch money--four bit ain'. But w'en +she all you got, she wan hell of a lot . . . _bien_!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +IN THE BAD LANDS + +It was well toward noon on the following day when the four finally +succeeded in locating the grub cache of the departed horse-thief. Nearly +two years had passed since the man had described the place to Tex and a +two-year-old description of a certain small, carefully concealed cavern +in a rock-wall pitted with innumerable similar caverns is a mighty +slender peg to hang hopes upon. + +"It's like searching for buried treasure!" exclaimed Alice as she pried +and prodded among the rocks with a stout stick. + +"There won't be much treasure, even if we find the _cache_," smiled Tex. +"Horse thievin' had got onpopular to the extent there wasn't hardly a +livin' in it long before this specimen took it up as a profession. We'll +be lucky if we find any grub in it." + +A few moments later Bat unearthed the _cache_ and, as the others crowded +about, began to draw out its contents. + +"Field mice," growled Tex, as the half-breed held up an empty canvas bag +with its corner gnawed to shreds. Another gnawed bag followed, and +another. + +"We don't draw no flour, nor rice, not jerky, anyhow," said the puncher, +examining the bags. "Nor bacon, either. The only chance we stand to +make a haul is on the air-tights." + +"What are air-tights?" asked the girl. + +"Canned stuff--tomatoes are the best for this kind of weather--keep you +from gettin' thirsty. I've be'n in this country long enough to pretty +much know its habits, but I never saw it this hot in June." + +"She feel lak' dat dam' Yuma bench, but here is only de rattlesnake. We +don' got to all de tam hont de pizen boog. Dat ain' no good for git so +dam' hot--she burn' oop de range. If it ain' so mooch danger for Win to +git hang--" He paused and looked at Tex with owlish solemnity. "A'm no +lak we cross dem bad lands. Better A'm lak we gon' back t'rough de +mountaine." + +"You dig out them air-tights, if there's any in there, an' quit your +croakin'!" ordered the cowboy. + +And with a grin Bat thrust in his arm to the shoulder. One by one he +drew out the tins--eight in all, and laid them in a row. The labels had +disappeared and the Texan stood looking down at them. + +"Anyway we have these," smiled the girl, but the cowboy shook his head. + +"Those big ones are tomatoes, an' the others are corn, an' peas--but, it +don't make any difference." He pointed to the cans in disgust: "See +those ends bulged out that way? If we'd eat any of the stuff in those +cans we'd curl up an' die, _pronto_. Roll 'em back, Bat, we got grub +enough without 'em. Two days will put us through the bad lands an' we've +got plenty. We'll start when the moon comes up." + +All four spent the afternoon in the meagre shade of the bull pine, +seeking some amelioration from the awful scorching heat. But it was +scant protection they got, and no comfort. The merciless rays of the sun +beat down upon the little plateau, heating the rocks to a degree that +rendered them intolerable to the touch. No breath of air stirred. The +horses ceased to graze and stood in the scrub with lowered heads and +wide-spread legs, sweating. + +Towards evening a breeze sprang up from the southeast, but it was a +breeze that brought with it no atom of comfort. It blew hot and stifling +like the scorching blast of some mighty furnace. For an hour after the +sun went down in a glow of red the super-heated rocks continued to give +off their heat and the wind swept, sirocco-like, over the little camp. +Before the after-glow had faded from the sky the wind died and a +delicious coolness pervaded the plateau. + +"It hardly seems possible," said Alice, as she breathed deeply of the +vivifying air, "that in this very spot only a few hours ago we were +gasping for breath. + +"You can always bank on the nights bein' cold," answered Tex, as he +proceeded to build the fire. "We'll rustle around and get supper out of +the way an' the outfit packed an' we can pull our freight as soon as it's +light enough. The moon ought to show up by half-past ten or eleven, an' +we can make the split rock water-hole before it gets too hot for the +horses to travel. It's the hottest spell for June I ever saw and if she +don't let up tomorrow the range will be burnt to a frazzle." + +Bat cast a weather-wise eye toward the sky which, cloudless, nevertheless +seemed filmed with a peculiar haze that obscured the million lesser stars +and distorted the greater ones, so that they showed sullen and angry and +dull like the malignant pustules of a diseased skin. + +"A'm t'ink she gon' for bus' loose pret' queek." + +"Another thunder storm and a deluge of rain?" asked Alice. + +The half-breed shrugged: "I ain' know mooch 'bout dat. I ain' t'ink she +feel lak de rain. She ain' feel good." + +"Leave off croakin', Bat, an' get to work an' pack," growled the Texan. +"There'll be plenty time to gloom about the weather when it gets here." +An hour later the outfit was ready for the trail. + +"Wish we had one of them African water-bags," said the cowboy, as he +filled his flask at the spring. "But I guess this will do 'til we strike +the water-hole." + +"Where is that whiskey bottle?" asked Endicott. "We could take a chance +on snake-bite, dump out the booze, and use the bottle for water." + +The Texan shook his head: "I had bad luck with that bottle; it knocked +against a rock an' got busted. So we've got to lump the snake-bite with +the thirst, an' take a chance on both of 'em." + +"How far is the water-hole?" Alice asked, as she eyed the flask that the +cowboy was making fast in his slicker. + +"About forty miles, I reckon. We've got this, and three cans of +tomatoes, but we want to go easy on 'em, because there's a good ride +ahead of us after we hit Split Rock, an' that's the only water, except +poison springs, between here an' the old Miszoo." + +Bat, who had come up with the horses, pointed gloomily at the moon which +had just topped the shoulder of a mountain. "She all squash down. Dat +ain' no good she look so red." The others followed his gaze, and for a +moment all stared at the distorted crimson oblong that hung low above the +mountains. A peculiar dull luminosity radiated from the misshapen orb +and bathed the bad lands in a flood of weird murky light. + +"Come on," cried Tex, swinging into his saddle, "we'll hit the trail +before this old Python here finds something else to forebode about. For +all I care the moon can turn green, an' grow a hump like a camel just so +she gives us light enough to see by." He led the way across the little +plateau and the others followed. With eyes tight-shut and hands gripping +the saddle-horn, Alice gave her horse full rein as he followed the +Texan's down the narrow sloping ledge that answered for a trail. Nor did +she open her eyes until the reassuring voice of the cowboy told her the +danger was past. + +Tex led the way around the base of the butte and down into the coulee he +had followed the previous day. "We've got to take it easy this trip," he +explained. "There ain't any too much light an' we can't take any chances +on holes an' loose rocks. It'll be rough goin' all the way, but a good +fast walk ought to put us half way, by daylight, an' then we can hit her +up a little better." The moon swung higher and the light increased +somewhat, but at best it was poor enough, serving only to bring out the +general outlines of the trail and the bolder contour of the coulee's rim. +No breath of the wind stirred the air that was cold, with a dank, clammy +coldness--like the dead air of a cistern. As she rode, the girl noticed +the absence of its buoyant tang. The horses' hoofs rang hollow and thin +on the hard rock of the coulee bed, and even the frenzied yapping of a +pack of coyotes, sounded uncanny and far away. Between these sounds the +stillness seemed oppressive--charged with a nameless feeling of +unwholesome portent. "It is the evil spell of the bad lands," thought +the girl, and shuddered. + +Dawn broke with the moon still high above the western skyline. The sides +of the coulee had flattened and they traversed a country of low-lying +ridges and undulating rock-basins. As the yellow rim of the sun showed +above the crest of a far-off ridge, their ears caught the muffled roar of +wind. From the elevation of a low hill the four gazed toward the west +where a low-hung dust-cloud, lowering, ominous, mounted higher and higher +as the roar of the wind increased. The air about them remained +motionless--dead. Suddenly it trembled, swirled, and rushed forward to +meet the oncoming dust-cloud as though drawn toward it by the suck of a +mighty vortex. + +"Dat better we gon' for hont de hole. Dat dust sto'm she raise hell." + +"Hole up, nothin'!" cried the Texan; "How are we goin' to hole up--four +of us an' five horses, on a pint of water an' three cans of tomatoes? +When that storm hits it's goin' to be hot. We've just naturally got to +make that water-hole! Come on, ride like the devil before she hits, +because we're goin' to slack up considerable, directly." + +The cowboy led the way and the others followed, urging their horses at +top speed. The air was still cool, and as she rode, Alice glanced over +her shoulder toward the dust cloud, nearer now, by many miles. The roar +of the wind increased in volume. "It's like the roar of the falls at +Niagara," she thought, and spurred her horse close beside the Texan's. + +"Only seventeen or eighteen miles," she heard him say, as her horse drew +abreast. "The wind's almost at our back, an' that'll help some." He +jerked the silk scarf from his neck and extended it toward her. "Cover +your mouth an' nose with that when she hits. An' keep your eyes shut. +We'll make it all right, but it's goin' to be tough." A mile further on +the storm burst with the fury of a hurricane. The wind roared down upon +them like a blast from hell. Daylight blotted out, and where a moment +before the sun had hung like a burnished brazen shield, was only a dim +lightening of the impenetrable fog of grey-black dust. The girl opened +her eyes and instantly they seemed filled with a thousand needles that +bit and seared and caused hot stinging tears to well between the +tight-closed lids. She gasped for breath and her lips and tongue went +dry. Sand gritted against her teeth as she closed them, and she tried in +vain to spit the dust from her mouth. She was aware that someone was +tying the scarf about her head, and close against her ear she heard the +voice of the Texan: "Breathe through your nose as long as you can an' +then through your teeth. Hang onto your saddle-horn, I've got your +reins. An' whatever you do, keep your eyes shut, this sand will cut 'em +out if you don't." She turned her face for an instant toward the west, +and the sand particles drove against her exposed forehead and eyelids +with a force that caused the stinging tears to flow afresh. Then she +felt her horse move slowly, jerkily at first, then more easily as the +Texan swung him in beside his own. + +"We're all right now," he shouted at the top of his lungs to make himself +heard above the roar of the wind. And then it seemed to the girl they +rode on and on for hours without a spoken word. She came to tell by the +force of the wind whether they travelled along ridges, or wide low +basins, or narrow coulees. Her lips dried and cracked, and the fine dust +and sand particles were driven beneath her clothing until her skin +smarted and chafed under their gritty torture. Suddenly the wind seemed +to die down and the horses stopped. She heard the Texan swing to the +ground at her side, and she tried to open her eyes but they were glued +fast. She endeavoured to speak and found the effort a torture because of +the thick crusting of alkali dust and sand that tore at her broken lips. +The scarf was loosened and allowed to fall about her neck. She could +hear the others dismounting and the loud sounds with which the horses +strove to rid their nostrils of the crusted grime. + +"Just a minute, now, an' you can open your eyes," the Texan's words fell +with a dry rasp of his tongue upon his caked lips. She heard a slight +splashing sound and the next moment the grateful feel of water was upon +her burning eyelids, as the Texan sponged at them with a saturated bit of +cloth. + +"The water-hole!" she managed to gasp. + +"There's water here," answered the cowboy, evasively, "hold still, an' in +a minute you can open your eyes." Very gently he continued to sponge at +her lids. Her eyes opened and she started back with a sharp cry. The +three men before her were unrecognizable in the thick masks of dirt that +encased their faces--masks that showed only thin red slits for eyes, and +thick, blood-caked excrescences where lips should have been. + +"Water!" Endicott cried, and Alice was sure she heard the dry click of +his tongue against the roof of his mouth. The girl saw that they were in +a cavern formed by a mud crack whose walls had toppled together. Almost +at her feet was a small pool, its surface covered with a film of dust. +Endicott stepped toward it, but the Texan barred the way. + +"Don't drink that! It might be a poison spring--most of 'em are down +here. It's the meanest death there is, the bellyache an' cramps that +comes from drinkin' poison water. Watch the horses. If they will drink +it, we can. He led his horse to the pool into which the animal thrust +his nose half way to the eyes. Only a moment he held it there, then with +a thrash of disappointment that sent the water splashing over the +dust-coated rocks, he raised his head and stood with the water dripping +in streams from his muzzle. He pawed at the ground, shook his head +wrathfully, and turned in disgust from the water-hole. + +"Poison," announced the Texan. "We can rinse out our mouths with it an' +clean out our eyes an' wash our faces, an' do the same for the horses, +but we can't swallow not even a drop of it, or us an' the angels will be +swappin' experiences about this time tomorrow." He turned to Alice: +"Ladies first. Just take your handkerchief an' wet it an' swab out your +mouth an' when you're through there's a good drink of real water waitin' +for you in the flask." + +When she had done, the three men followed her example, and the Texan +tendered the bottle: + +"Take all you need, there's plenty," he said. But she would take only a +swallow which she held in her mouth and allowed to trickle down her +throat. Endicott did the same and Bat, whereupon the cowboy replaced the +cork to the bottle and was about to return it to his slicker when the +girl caught his arm. + +"You didn't drink any!" she cried, but he overrode her protest. + +"I ain't thirsty," he said almost gruffly. "You better catch you a +little rest, because as soon as we get these horses fixed up, we're goin' +to pull out of here." The girl assayed a protest, but Tex turned +abruptly away and the three fell to work removing the caked dust from the +eyes and nostrils of the horses, and rinsing out their mouths. When they +finished, Tex turned to Bat. + +"How far d'you reckon it is to the water-hole?" he asked. + +The half-breed shrugged: "Mebbe-so fi' mile, mebbe-so ten. I ain' know +dis place. A'm t'ink we los'." + +"Lost!" snorted the Texan, contemptuously. "You're a hell of an Injun, +you are, to get lost in broad daylight in sight of the Bear Paws. I +ain't lost, if you are, an' I tell you we camp at that water-hole +tonight!" + +Again the half-breed shrugged: "I ain' see no mountaine. I ain' see no +mooch daylight, neider. Too mooch de dam' dus'--too mooch san'--too +mooch de win' blow. If we com' by de water-hole, A'm t'ink dat dam' +lucky t'ing." + +Tex regarded him with disapproval: "Climb onto your horse, old Calamity +Jane, an' we'll mosey along. A dry camp is better than this--at least +nobody can crawl around in their sleep an' drink a snifter of poison." He +helped Alice from the ground where she sat propped against a rock and +assisted her to mount, being careful to adjust the scarf over her nose +and mouth. + +As the horses with lowered heads bored through the dust-storm the Texan +cursed himself unmercifully. "This is all your fault, you damned +four-flusher! You would run a girl--that girl, into a hole like this, +would you? You low-lived skunk, you! You think you're fit to marry her, +do you? Well, you ain't! You ain't fit to be mentioned in the same +language she is! You'll get 'em all out of here or, by God, you'll never +get out yourself--an' I'm right here to see that that goes! An' you'll +find that water-hole, too! An' after you've found it, an' got 'em all +out of this jack-pot, you'll h'ist up on your hind legs an' tell 'em the +whole damn facts in the case, an' if Win jumps in an' just naturally mops +up hell with you, it'll be just what you've got comin' to you--if he does +a good job, it will." Mile after mile the horses drifted before the +wind, heads hung low and ears drooping. In vain the Texan tried to +pierce the impenetrable pall of flying dust for a glimpse of a familiar +landmark. "We ought to be hittin' that long black ridge, or the soda +hill by now," he muttered. "If we miss 'em both--God!" + +The half-breed pushed his horse close beside him: "We mus' got to camp," +he announced with his lips to the Texan's ear. "De hosses beginnin' to +shake." + +"How far can they go?" + +"Camp now. Beside de cut-bank here. Dem hoss she got for res' queek or, +ba Goss, she die." + +Tex felt his own horse tremble and he knew the half-breed's words were +true. With an oath he swung into the sheltered angle of the cut-bank +along which they were travelling. Bat jerked the pack from the +lead-horse and produced clothing and blankets, dripping wet from the +saturation he had given them in the poison spring. While the others +repeated the process of the previous camp, Bat worked over the horses +which stood in a dejected row with their noses to the base of the +cut-bank. + +"We'll save the water an' make tomatoes do," announced the Texan, as with +his knife he cut a hole in the top of a can. "This storm is bound to let +up pretty quick an' then we'll hit for the waterhole. It can't be far +from here. We'll tap two cans an' save one an' the water--the flask's +half full yet." + +Never in her life, thought Alice, as she and Endicott shared their can of +tomatoes, had she tasted anything half so good. The rich red pulp and +the acid juice, if it did not exactly quench the burning thirst, at least +made it bearable, and in a few minutes she fell asleep protected from the +all pervading dust by one of the wet blankets. The storm roared on. At +the end of a couple of hours Bat rose and silently saddled his horse. +"A'm gon' for fin' dat water-hole," he said, when the task was completed. +"If de sto'm stop, a'right. If it don' stop, you gon' on in de mornin'." +He placed one of the empty tomato cans in his slicker, and as he was +about to mount both Endicott and Tex shook his hand. + +"Good luck to you, Bat," said Endicott, with forced cheerfulness. The +Texan said never a word, but after a long look into the half-breed's +eyes, turned his head swiftly away. + +Both Tex and Endicott slept fitfully, throwing the blankets from their +heads at frequent intervals to note the progress of the storm. Once +during the night the Texan visited the horses. The three saddle animals +stood hobbled with their heads close to the cut-bank, but the pack-horse +was gone. "Maybe you'll find it," he muttered, "but the best bet is, you +won't. I gave my horse his head for an hour before we camped, an' he +couldn't find it." Tex sat up after that, with his back to the wall of +the coulee. With the first hint of dawn Endicott joined him. The wind +roared with unabated fury as he crawled to the cowboy's side. He held up +the half-filled water flask and the Texan regarded him with red-rimmed +eyes. + +"This water," asked the man, "it's for her, isn't it?" Tex nodded. +Without a word Endicott crawled to the side of the sleeping girl and +gently drew the blanket from her face. He carefully removed the cork +from the bottle and holding it close above the parched lips allowed a few +drops of the warm fluid to trickle between them. The lips moved and the +sleeping girl swallowed the water greedily. With infinite pains the man +continued the operation doling the precious water out a little at a time +so as not to waken her. At last the bottle was empty, and, replacing the +blanket, he returned to the Texan's side. "She wouldn't have taken it if +she had known," he whispered. "She would have made us drink some." + +Tex nodded, with his eyes on the other's face. + +"An' you're nothin' but a damned pilgrim!" he breathed, softly. Minutes +passed as the two men sat silently side by side. The Texan spoke, as if +to himself: "It's a hell of a way to die--for her." + +"We'll get through somehow," Endicott said, hopefully. + +Tex did not reply, but sat with his eyes fixed on the horses. Presently +he got up, walked over and examined each one carefully. "Only two of 'em +will travel, Win. Yours is all in." He saddled the girl's horse and his +own, leaving them still hobbled. Then he walked over and picked up the +empty tomato can and the bottle. "You've got to drink," he said, "or +you'll die--me, too. An' maybe that water ain't enough for her, either." +He drew a knife from his pocket and walked to Endicott's horse. + +"What are you going to do?" cried the other, his eyes wide with horror. + +"It's blood, or nothin'," answered the Texan, as he passed his hand along +the horse's throat searching for the artery. + +Endicott nodded: "I suppose you're right, but it seems--cold blooded." + +"I'd shoot him first, but there's no use wakin' her. We can tell her the +horse died." There was a swift twisting of the cowboy's wrist, the horse +reared sharply back, and Endicott turned away with a sickening feeling of +weakness. The voice of the Texan roused him: "Hand me the bottle and the +can quick!" As he sprang to obey, Endicott saw that the hand the cowboy +held tightly against the horse's throat was red. The weakness vanished +and he cursed himself for a fool. What was a horse--a thousand horses to +the lives of humans--her life? The bottle was filled almost instantly +and he handed Tex the can. + +"Drink it--all you can hold of it. It won't taste good, but it's wet." +He was gulping great swallows from the tin, as with the other hand he +tried to hold back the flow. Endicott placed the bottle to his lips and +was surprised to find that he emptied it almost at a draught. Again and +again the Texan filled the bottle and the can as both in a frenzy of +desire gulped the thick liquid. When, at length they were satiated, the +blood still flowed. The receptacles were filled, set aside, and covered +with a strip of cloth. For a moment longer the horse stood with the +blood spurting from his throat, then with a heavy sigh he toppled +sidewise and crashed heavily to the ground. The Texan fixed the cork in +the bottle, plugged the can as best he could, and taking them, together +with the remaining can of tomatoes, tied them into the slicker behind the +cantle of his saddle. He swung the bag containing the few remaining +biscuits to the horn. + +"Give her the tomatoes when you have to. _You_ can use the other +can--tell her that's tomatoes, too. She'll never tumble that it's blood." + +Endicott stared at the other: "What do you mean?" + +"I mean that you had better wake her up, now, an' get goin'. I'll wait +here for Bat. He's probably found the spring by this time, an' he'll be +moseyin' along directly with water an' the pack-horse." + +Endicott took a step toward him: "It won't work, Tex," he said, with a +smile. "You don't expect me to believe that if you really thought Bat +would return with water, you would be sending us away from here into this +dust-storm. No. I'm the one that waits for Bat. You go ahead and take +her through, and then you can come back for me." + +The Texan shook his head: "I got you into this deal, an'----" + +"You did it to protect me!" flared Endicott. "I'm the cause for all +this, and I'll stand the gaff!" + +The Texan smiled, and Endicott noticed that it was the same cynical smile +with which the man had regarded him in the dance hall, and again as they +had faced each other under the cottonwoods of Buffalo Coulee. "Since +when you be'n runnin' this outfit?" + +"It don't make any difference since when! The fact is, I'm running it, +now--that is, to the extent that I'll be damned if you're going to stay +behind and rot in this God-forsaken inferno, while I ride to safety on +your horse." + +The smile died from the cowboy's face: "It ain't that, Win. I guess you +don't savvy, but I do. She's yours, man. Take her an' go! There was a +while that I thought--but, hell!" + +"I'm not so sure of that," Endicott replied. "Only yesterday, or the day +before, she told me she could not choose--yet." + +"She'll choose," answered Tex, "an' she won't choose--me. She ain't +makin' no mistake, neither. By God, I know a man when I see one!" + +Endicott stepped forward and shook his fist in the cowboy's face: "It's +the only chance. You can do it--I can't. For God's sake, man, be +sensible! Either of us would do it--for her. It is only a question of +success, and all that it means; and failure--and all that that means. +You know the country--I don't. You are experienced in fighting this +damned desert--I'm not. Any one of a dozen things might mean the +difference between life and death. You would take advantage of them--I +couldn't." + +"You're a lawyer, Win--an' a damn good one. I wondered what your trade +was. If I ever run foul of the law, I'll sure send for you, _pronto_. +If I was a jury you'd have me plumb convinced--but, I ain't a jury. The +way I look at it, the case stands about like this: We can't stay here, +and there can't only two of us go. I can hold out here longer than you +could, an' you can go just as far with the horses as I could. Just give +them their head an' let them drift--that's all I could do. If the storm +lets up you'll see the Split Rock water-hole--you can't miss it if you're +in sight of it, there's a long black ridge with a big busted rock on the +end of it, an' just off the end is a round, high mound--the soda hill, +they call it, and the water-hole is between. If you pass the water-hole, +you'll strike the Miszoo. You can tell that from a long ways off, too, +by the fringe of green that lines the banks. And, as for the rest of +it--I mean, if the storm don't let up, or the horses go down, I couldn't +do any more than you could--it's cashin' in time then anyhow, an' the +long, long sleep, no matter who's runnin' the outfit. An' if it comes to +that, it's better for her to pass her last hours with one of her own kind +than with--me." + +Endicott thrust out his hand: "I think any one could be proud to spend +their last hours with one of your kind," he said huskily. "I believe we +will all win through--but, if worse comes to worst---- Good Bye." + +"So Long, Win," said the cowboy, grasping the hand. "Wake her up an' +pull out quick. I'll onhobble the horses." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +"WIN" + +Alice opened her eyes to see Endicott bending over her. "It is time to +pull out," said the man tersely. + +The girl threw off the blanket and stared into the whirl of opaque +dust. "The storm is still raging," she murmured. "Oh, Winthrop, do +you know that I dreamed it was all over--that we were riding between +high, cool mountains beside a flashing stream. And trout were leaping +in the rapids, and I got off and drank and drank of the clear, cold +water, and, why, do you know, I feel actually refreshed! The horrible +burning thirst has gone. That proves the control mind has over +matter--if we could just concentrate and think hard enough, I don't +believe we would ever need to be thirsty, or hungry, or tired, or cold, +do you?" + +The man smiled grimly, and shook his head: "No. If we could think hard +_enough_ to accomplish a thing, why, manifestly that thing would be +accomplished. Great word--enough--the trouble is, when you use it, you +never say anything." + +Alice laughed: "You're making fun of me. I don't care, you know what I +mean, anyway. Why, what's the matter with that horse?" + +"He died--got weaker and weaker, and at last he just rolled over dead. +And that is why we have to hurry and make a try for the water-hole, +before the others play out." + +Endicott noticed that the Texan was nowhere in sight. He pressed his +lips firmly: "It's better that way, I guess," he thought. + +"But, that's your horse! And where are the others--Tex, and Bat, and +the pack-horse?" + +"They pulled out to hunt for the water-hole--each in a different +direction. You and I are to keep together and drift with the wind as +we have been doing." + +"And they gave us the best of it," she breathed. Endicott winced, and +the girl noticed. She laid her hand gently upon his arm. "No, +Winthrop, I didn't mean that. There was a time, perhaps, when I might +have thought--but, that was before I knew you. I have learned a lot in +the past few days, Winthrop--enough to know that no matter what +happens, you have played a man's part--with the rest of them. Come, +I'm ready." + +Endicott tied the scarf about her face and assisted her to mount, then, +throwing her bridle reins over the horn of his saddle as the Texan had +done, he headed down the coulee. For three hours the horses drifted +with the storm, following along coulees, crossing low ridges, and long +level stretches where the sweep of the wind seemed at times as though +it would tear them from the saddles. Endicott's horse stumbled +frequently, and each time the recovery seemed more and more of an +effort. Then suddenly the wind died--ceased to blow as abruptly as it +had started. The man could scarcely believe his senses as he listened +in vain for the roar of it--the steady, sullen roar, that had rung in +his ears, it seemed, since the beginning of time. Thick dust filled +the air but when he turned his face toward the west no sand particles +stung his skin. Through a rift he caught sight of a low butte--a butte +that was not nearby. Alice tore the scarf from her face. "It has +stopped!" she cried, excitedly. "The storm is over!" + +"Thank God!" breathed Endicott, "the dust is beginning to settle." He +dismounted and swung the girl to the ground. "We may as well wait here +as anywhere until the air clears sufficiently for us to get our +bearings. We certainly must have passed the water-hole, and we would +only be going farther and farther away if we pushed on." + +The dust settled rapidly. Splashes of sunshine showed here and there +upon the basin and ridge, and it grew lighter. The atmosphere took on +the appearance of a thin grey fog that momentarily grew thinner. +Endicott walked to the top of a low mound and gazed eagerly about him. +Distant objects were beginning to appear--bare rock-ridges, and +low-lying hills, and deep coulees. In vain the man's eyes followed the +ridges for one that terminated in a huge broken rock, with its nearby +soda hill. No such ridge appeared, and no high, round hill. Suddenly +his gaze became rivetted upon the southern horizon. What was that +stretching away, long, and dark, and winding? Surely--surely it +was--trees! Again and again he tried to focus his gaze upon that long +dark line, but always his lids drew over his stinging eyeballs, and +with a half-sobbed curse, he dashed the water from his eyes. At last +he saw it--the green of distant timber. "The Missouri--five +miles--maybe more. Oh God, if the horses hold out!" Running, +stumbling, he made his way to the girl's side. "It's the river!" he +cried. "The Missouri!" + +"Look at the horses!" she exclaimed. "They see it, too!" The animals +stood with ears cocked forward, and dirt-caked nostrils distended, +gazing into the south. Endicott sprang to his slicker, and producing +the flask, saturated his handkerchief with the thick red liquid. He +tried to sponge out the mouths and noses of the horses but they drew +back, trembling and snorting in terror. + +"Why, it's blood!" cried the girl, her eyes dilated with horror. "From +the horse that died," explained Endicott, as he tossed the rag to the +ground. + +"But, the water--surely there was water in the flask last night!" +Then, of a sudden, she understood. "You--you fed it to me in my +sleep," she faltered. "You were afraid I would refuse, and that was my +dream!" + +"Mind over matter," reminded Endicott, with a distortion of his +bleeding lips that passed for a grin. Again he fumbled in his slicker +and withdrew the untouched can of tomatoes. He cut its cover as he had +seen Tex do and extended it to the girl. "Drink some of this, and if +the horses hold out we will reach the river in a couple of hours." + +"I believe it's growing a little cooler since that awful wind went +down," she said, as she passed the can back to Endicott. "Let's push +on, the horses seem to know there is water ahead. Oh, I hope they can +make it!" + +"We can go on a-foot if they can't," reassured the man. "It is not +far." + +The horses pushed on with renewed life. They stumbled weakly, but the +hopeless, lack-lustre look was gone from their eyes and at frequent +intervals they stretched their quivering nostrils toward the long green +line in the distance. So slow was their laboured pace that at the end +of a half-hour Endicott dismounted and walked, hobbling clumsily over +the hot rocks and through ankle-deep drifts of dust in his high-heeled +boots. A buzzard rose from the coulee ahead with silent flapping of +wings, to be joined a moment later by two more of his evil ilk, and the +three wheeled in wide circles above the spot from which they had been +frightened. A bend in the coulee revealed a stagnant poison spring. A +dead horse lay beside it with his head buried to the ears in the slimy +water. Alice glanced at the broken chain of the hobbles that still +encircled the horse's feet. + +"It's the pack-horse!" she cried. "They have only one horse between +them!" + +"Yes, he got away in the night." Endicott nodded. "Bat is hunting +water, and Tex is waiting." He carried water in his hat and dashed it +over the heads of the horses, and sponged out their mouths and noses as +Tex and Bat had done. The drooping animals revived wonderfully under +the treatment and, with the long green line of scrub timber now plainly +in sight, evinced an eagerness for the trail that, since the departure +from Antelope Butte, had been entirely wanting. As the man assisted +the girl to mount, he saw that she was crying. + +"They'll come out, all right," he assured her. "As soon as we hit the +river and I can get a fresh horse, I'm going back." + +"Going back!" + +"Going back, of course--with water. You do not expect me to leave +them?" + +"No, I don't expect you to leave them! Oh, Winthrop, I--" her voice +choked up and the sentence was never finished. + +"Buck up, little girl, an hour will put us at the river," he swung into +the saddle and headed southward, glad of a respite from the galling, +scalding torture of walking in high-heeled boots. + + +Had Endicott combed Montana throughout its length and breadth he could +have found no more evil, disreputable character than Long Bill Kearney. +Despised by honest citizens and the renegades of the bad lands, alike, +he nevertheless served these latter by furnishing them whiskey and +supplies at exorbitant prices. Also, he bootlegged systematically to +the Port Belknap Indians, which fact, while a matter of common +knowledge, the Government had never been able to prove. So Long Bill, +making a living ostensibly by maintaining a flat-boat ferry and a few +head of mangy cattle, continued to ply his despicable trade. Even +passing cowboys avoided him and Long Bill was left pretty much to his +own evil devices. + +It was the cabin of this scum of the outland that Endicott and Alice +approached after pushing up the river for a mile or more from the point +where they had reached it by means of a deep coulee that wound +tortuously through the breaks. Long Bill stood in his doorway and eyed +the pair sullenly as they drew rein and climbed stiffly from the +saddles. Alice glanced with disgust into the sallow face with its +unkempt, straggling beard, and involuntarily recoiled as her eyes met +the leer with which he regarded her as Endicott addressed him: + +"We've been fighting the dust storm for two days, and we've got to have +grub and some real water, quick." + +The man regarded him with slow insolence: "The hell ye hev," he +drawled; "Timber City's only seven mile, ef ye was acrost the river. I +hain't runnin' no hotel, an' grub-liners hain't welcome." + +"God, man! You don't mean----" + +"I mean, ef ye got five dollars on ye I'll ferry ye acrost to where ye +c'n ride to Timber City ef them old skates'll carry ye there, an' ef ye +hain't got the five, ye c'n swim acrost, or shove on up the river, or +go back where ye come from." + +Endicott took one swift step forward, his right fist shot into the +man's stomach, and as he doubled forward with a grunt of pain, +Endicott's left crashed against the point of his jaw with a force that +sent him spinning like a top as he crumpled to the hard-trodden earth +of the door-yard. + +"Good!" cried Alice. "It was beautifully done. He didn't even have a +chance to shoot," she pointed to the two 45's that hung, one at either +hip. + +"I guess we'll just relieve him of those," said Endicott, and, jerking +the revolvers from their holsters, walked to his saddle and uncoiled +the rope. Alice lent eager assistance, and a few moments later the +inhospitable one lay trussed hand and foot. "Now, we'll go in and find +something to eat," said Endicott, as he made fast the final hitch. + +The cabin was well stocked with provisions and, to the surprise of the +two, was reasonably clean. While Alice busied herself in the cabin, +Endicott unsaddled the horses and turned them into a small field where +the vegetation grew rank and high and green beside a series of +irrigation ditches. Passing the horse corral he saw that three or four +saddle-horses dozed in the shade of its pole fence, and continued on to +the river bank where he inspected minutely the ferry. + +"I guess we can manage to cross the river," he told Alice, when he +returned to the cabin; "I will breathe easier when I see you safe in +Timber City, wherever that is. I am coming back after Tex. But first +I must see you safe." + +The girl crossed to his side and as the man glanced into her face he +saw that her eyes were shining with a new light--a light he had dreamed +could shine from those eyes, but never dared hope to see. "No, Win," +she answered softly, and despite the mighty pounding of his heart the +man realized it was the first time she had used that name. "You are +not going back alone. I am going too." Endicott made a gesture of +protest but she gave no heed. "From now on my place is with you. Oh, +Win, can't you see! I--I guess I have always loved you--only I didn't +know It. I wanted romance--wanted a red-blood man--a man who could do +things, and----" + +"Oh, if I could come to you clean-handed!" he interrupted, +passionately; "if I could offer you a hand unstained by the blood of a +fellow creature!" + +She laid a hand gently upon his shoulder and looked straight into his +eyes: "Don't, Win," she said; "don't always hark back to _that_. Let +us forget." + +"I wish to God I could forget!" he answered, bitterly. "I know the act +was justified. I believe it was unavoidable. But--it is my New +England conscience, I suppose." + +Alice smiled: "Don't let your conscience bother you, because it is a +New England conscience. They call you 'the pilgrim' out here. It is +the name they called your early Massachusetts forebears--and if history +is to be credited, they never allowed their consciences to stand in the +way of taking human life." + +"But, they thought they were right." + +"And you _know_ you were right!" + +"I know--I know! It isn't the ethics--only the fact." + +"Don't brood over it. Don't think of it, dear. Or, if you must, think +of it only as a grim duty performed--a duty that proved, as nothing +else could have proved, that you are every inch a man." + +Endicott drew her close against his pounding heart. "It proved that +the waters of the Erie Canal, if given the chance, can dash as madly +unrestrained as can the waters of the Grand Canyon." + +She pressed her fingers to his lips: "Don't make fun of me. I was a +fool." + +"I'm not making fun--I didn't know it myself, until--" the sentence was +drowned in a series of yells and curses and vile epithets that brought +both to the door to stare down at the trussed-up one who writhed on the +ground in a very paroxysm of rage. + +"Conscience hurting you, or is it your jaw?" asked Endicott, as he +grinned into the rage-distorted features. + +"Git them hosses outa that alfalfy! You ---- ---- ---- ---- ----! +I'll hev th' law on ye! I'll shoot ye! I'll drag yer guts out!" So +great was the man's fury that a thin white foam flecked his +hate-distorted lips, and his voice rose to a high-pitched whine. +Endicott glanced toward the two horses that stood, belly-deep, in the +lush vegetation. + +"They like it," he said, calmly. "It's the first feed they have had in +two days." The man's little pig eyes glared red, and his voice choked +in an inarticulate snarl. + +Alice turned away in disgust. "Let him alone," she said, "and we will +have dinner. I'm simply famished. Nothing ever looked so good to me +in the world as that ham and potatoes and corn and peas." During the +course of the meal, Endicott tried to dissuade the girl from her +purpose of accompanying him on his search for Tex and the half-breed. +But she would have it no other way, and finally, perforce, he consented. + +Leaving her to pack up some food, Endicott filled the water-bag that +hung on the wall and, proceeding to the corral, saddled three of the +horses. Through the open window of the cabin he could see the girl +busily engaged in transferring provisions to a sack. He watched her as +she passed and repassed the window intent upon her task. Never had she +seemed so lovable, so unutterably desirable--and she loved him! With +her own lips she had told him of her love, and with her own lips had +placed the seal of love upon his own. Happiness, like no happiness he +had ever known should be his. And yet--hovering over him like a +pall--black, ominous, depressing--was the thing that momentarily +threatened to descend and engulf him, to destroy this new-found +happiness, haunt him with its diabolical presence, and crush his +life--and hers. + +With an effort he roused himself--squared himself there in the corral +for the final battle with himself. "It is now or never," he gritted +through clenched teeth. "Now, and alone. She won't face the situation +squarely. It is woman's way, calmy to ignore the issue, to push it +aside as the ill of a future day." + +She had said that he was right, and ethically, he knew that he was +right--but the fact of the deed remained. His hand had sped a soul to +its God. + +Why? + +To save the woman he loved. No jury on earth would hold him guilty. +He would surrender himself and stand trial. Then came the memory of +what Tex had told him of the machinations of local politics. He had no +wish to contribute his life as campaign material for a county election. +The other course was to run--to remain, as he now was, a fugitive, if +not from justice, at least from the hand of the law. This course would +mean that both must live always within the menace of the +shadow--unless, to save her from this life of haunting fear, he +renounced her. + +His eyes sought the forbidding sweep of the bad lands, strayed to the +sluggish waters of the Missouri, and beyond, where the black buttes of +the Judith Range reared their massive shapes in the distance. Suddenly +a mighty urge welled up within him. He would not renounce her! She +was his! This was life--the life that, to him, had been as a sealed +book--the fighting life of the boundless open places. It was the +coward's part to run. He had played a man's part, and he would +continue to play a man's part to the end. He would fight. Would +identify himself with this West--become part of it. Never would he +return to the life of the city, which would be to a life of fear. The +world should know that he was right. If local politics sought to crush +him--to use him as a puppet for their puny machinations, he would smash +their crude machine and rebuild the politics of this new land upon +principles as clean and rugged as the land itself. It should be his +work! + +With the light of a new determination in his eyes, he caught up the +bridle-reins of the horses and pushed open the gate of the corral. As +he led the animals out he was once more greeted with a volley of oaths +and curses: "Put them back! Ye hoss-thief! I'll have ye hung! Them's +mine, I tell ye!" + +"You'll get them back," assured Endicott. "I am only borrowing them to +go and hunt for a couple of friends of mine back there in the bad +lands." + +"Back in the bad lands! What do ye know about the bad lands? Ye'll +git lost, an' then what'll happen to me? I'll die like a coyote in a +trap! I'll starve here where no one comes along fer it's sometimes a +week--mebbe two!" + +"It will be a long time between meals if anything should happen to us, +but it will do you good to lie here and think it over. We'll be back +sometime." Endicott made the sack of provisions fast to the saddle of +the lead-horse, and assisted Alice to mount. + +"I'll kill ye fer this!" wailed the man; "I'll--I'll--" but the two +rode away with the futile threats ringing in their ears. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE END OF THE TRAIL + +"How are we going to find them?" asked the girl, as the two drew their +mounts to a stand on the top of a low ridge and gazed out over the sea +of similar ridges that rolled and spread before them as far as the eye +could reach in three directions--bare coulees, and barer ridges, with +here and there a low bare hill, all black and red and grey, with +studdings of mica flashing in the rays of the afternoon sun. + +"We'll find them. We've got to. I have just been thinking: Living on +the edge of the bad lands the way this man does he must occasionally +cross them. Tex said that the Split Rock water-hole was the only one +between the river and the mountains. We'll start the horses out and +give them their heads, and the chances are they will take us to the +water-hole. In all probability Tex and Bat will be there. If they are +not we will have to find them." + +"Of course!" assented the girl. "Oh, Win, I'm so proud of you! I +couldn't be any prouder if you were a--a real cowboy!" Endicott +laughed heartily, and urged his horse forward. The animals crossed +several low ridges and struck into a coulee which they followed +unhesitatingly. When it petered out in a wide basin, they struck into +another coulee, and continued their course, covering the miles at a +long, swinging trot. At sundown Endicott reined in sharply and pointed +to the northward. "It's the ridge of the Split Rock!" he cried; "and +look, there is the soda hill!" There it was only a mile or two +away--the long black ridge with the huge rock fragment at its end, and +almost touching it, the high round hill that the Texan had described. + +The horses pressed eagerly forward, seeming to know that rest and water +were soon to be theirs. "I wonder if they are there," breathed the +girl, "and I wonder if they are--all right." + +A few minutes later the horses swung around the base of the hill and, +with an exclamation of relief, Endicott saw two figures seated beside +the detached fragment of rock that lay near the end of the ridge. + +The Texan arose slowly and advanced toward them, smiling: "Good +evenin'," he greeted, casually, as he eyed the pair with evident +approval. "You sure come a-runnin'. We didn't expect you 'til along +about noon tomorrow. And we didn't expect you at all," he said to the +girl. "We figured you'd shove on to Timber City, an' then Win would +get a guide an' come back in the mornin'." + +Endicott laughed: "When I learned there was such a place as Timber +City, I intended to leave her there and return alone--only I was not +going to wait 'til morning to do it. But she wouldn't hear of it, so +we compromised--and she came with me." + +Tex smiled: "It's a great thing to learn how to compromise." He stared +for a few moments toward the west, where the setting sun left the sky +ablaze with fiery light. Then, still smiling, he advanced toward them +with both hands extended: "I wish you luck," he said, softly. "I cared +for you a mighty lot, Miss Alice, but I'm a good loser. I reckon, +maybe it's better things worked out the way they did." Endicott +pressed the outstretched hand with a mighty grip and turned swiftly +away to fumble at his latigo strap. And there were tears in the girl's +eyes as her fingers lingered for a moment in the Texan's grasp: "Oh, +I--I'm sorry. I----" + +"You don't need to be," the man whispered. "You chose the best of the +two." He indicated Endicott with a slight jerk of the head. "You've +got a real man there--an' they're oncommon hard to find. An' now, if +you've got some grub along suppose we tie into it. I'm hungry enough +to gnaw horn!" + +As Alice proceeded to set out the food, the Texan's eyes for the first +time strayed to the horses. "How much did Long Bill Kearney soak you +for the loan of his saddle-horses?" + +"Nothing," answered Endicott, "and he supplied us with the grub, too." + +"He, what?" + +"Fact," smiled the other, "he demurred a little, but----" + +"Long Bill's the hardest character in Choteau County." + +Endicott glanced at his swollen knuckles: "He is hard, all right." + +Tex eyed him in amazement, "Win, you didn't--punch his head for him!" + +"I did--and his stomach, too. We were nearly starved, and he refused +us food. Told us to go back where we came from. So I reached for him +and he dozed off." + +"But where was his guns?" + +"I took them away from him before I tied him up." + +"Where is he now?" + +"Tied up. He called me a lot of names because I turned the horses into +his alfalfa. They were hungry and they enjoyed it, but Bill nearly +blew up. Then we got dinner and took the horses and came away." + +"You're the luckiest man out of hell! You doggoned pilgrim, you!" Tex +roared with laughter: "Why accordin' to dope, he'd ought to just et you +up." + +"He whined like a puppy, when we left him, for fear we would get lost +and he would starve to death. He is yellow." + +"His kind always is--way down in their guts. Only no one ever made him +show it before." + +"How far did we miss the water-hole last night?" asked Endicott, as he +and Tex sat talking after the others had sought their blankets. + +"About two miles. The wind drifted us to the east. Bat didn't get far +'til his horse went down, so he bled him like we did, and holed up 'til +the storm quit. Then, after things cleared up, we got here about the +same time. The water ain't much--but it sure did taste good." For a +long time the two lay close together looking up at the million winking +stars. Tex tossed the butt of a cigarette into the grey dust. "She's +a great girl, Win. Game plumb to her boot heels." + +"She is, that. I've loved her for a long time--since way back in my +college days--but she wouldn't have me." + +"You hadn't earnt her. Life's like that--it's ups an' downs. But, in +the long run, a man gets about what's comin' to him. It's like +poker--in the long run the best player is bound to win. There's times +when luck is against him, maybe for months at a stretch. He'll lose +every time he plays, but if he stays with it, an' keeps on playin' the +best he knows how, an' don't go tryin' to force his luck by drawin' +four cards, an' fillin' three-card flushes, why, some day luck will +change an' he wins back all he's lost an' a lot more with it, because +there's always someone in the game that's throwin' their money away +drawin' to a Judson." + +"What is a Judson?" + +"Bill Judson was a major, an' next to playin' poker, he liked other +things. Every time he'd get three cards of a suit in a row, he'd draw +to 'em, hopin' for a straight flush. That hope cost him, I reckon, +hundreds of dollars, an' at last he filled one--but, hell! Everyone +laid down, an' he gathered the ante." The Texan rolled another +cigarette. "An' that's the way it is with me--I tried to force my +luck. I might as well own up to it right here an' get it over with. +You've be'n square, straight through, an' I haven't. I was stringin' +you with all that bunk about politics, an' you bein' sure to get hung +for shootin' Purdy. Fact is, the grand jury would have turned you +loose as soon as your case come up. But, from the first minute I laid +eyes on that girl, I wanted her. I'm bad enough, but not like Purdy. +I figured if she'd go half-way, I'd go the other half. So I planned +the raid on the wool-warehouse, an' the fake lynchin', purpose to get +her out of town. I didn't care a damn about you--you was just an +excuse to get her away. I figured on losing you after we hit the +mountains. The first jolt I got was in the warehouse, when we didn't +have to drag you out. Then I got another hell of a one in the coulee +under the cottonwoods. Then they got to comin' so thick I lost track +of 'em. An' the first thing I knew I would have killed any man that +would look crossways at _her_. It come over me all of a sudden that I +loved her. I tried to get out of it, but I was hooked. I watched +close, an' I saw that she liked me--maybe not altogether for what she +thought I'd done for you. But you was in the road. I knew she liked +you, too, though she wouldn't show it. 'Everything's fair in love or +war,' I kept sayin' over an' over to myself when I'd lay thinkin' it +over of nights. But, I knew it was a damned lie when I was sayin' it. +If you'd be'n milk-gutted, an' louse-hearted, like pilgrims are +supposed to be, there'd be'n a different story to tell, because you +wouldn't have be'n fit for her. But I liked you most as hard as I +loved her. 'From now on it's a square game,' I says, so I made Old Man +Johnson cough up that outfit of raiment, an' made you shave, so she +wouldn't have to take you lookin' like a sheep-herdin' greaser, if she +was a-goin' to take you instead of me. After that I come right out an' +told her just where I stood, an' from then on I've played the game +square. The women ain't divided up right in this world. There ought +to have be'n two of her, but they ain't another in the whole world, I +reckon, like her; so one of us had to lose. An', now, seein' how I've +lied you into all this misery, you ought to just naturally up an' knock +hell out of me. We'll still keep the game fair an' square. I'll throw +away my gun an' you can sail in as quick as you get your sleeves rolled +up. But, I doubt if you can get away with it, at that." + +Endicott laughed happily, and in the darkness his hand stole across and +gripped the hand of the Texan in a mighty grip: "I wish to God there +was some way I could thank you," he said. "Had it not been for you, I +never could have won her. Why, man, I never got acquainted with myself +until the past three days!" + +"There ain't any posses out," grinned Tex. "The fellow I met in the +coulee there by Antelope Butte told me. They think you were lynched. +He told me somethin' else, too--but that'll keep." + +As they were saddling up, the following morning, the Texan grinned: +"I'll bet old Long Bill Kearney's in a pleasin' frame of mind." + +"He's had time to meditate a little on his sins," answered Alice. + +"No--not Long Bill ain't. If he started in meditatin' on them, he'd +starve to death before he'd got meditated much past sixteen--an' he's +fifty, if he's a day." + +"There are four of us and only three horses," exclaimed Endicott, as he +tightened his cinch. + +"That's all right. The horses are fresh. I'm light built, an' we'll +change off makin' 'em carry double. It ain't so far." + +The morning sun was high when the horses turned into the coulee that +led to Long Bill's ranch. Bat, who had scouted ahead to make sure that +he had not succeeded in slipping his bonds and had plotted mischief, +sat grinning beside the corral fence as he listened, unobserved, to the +whimpering and wailing of the man who lay bound beside the cabin door. + +"What's the matter, Willie?" smiled Tex, as he slipped from his seat +behind Endicott's saddle. "Didn't your breakfast set right?" + +The man rolled to face them at the sound of the voice, and such a +stream of obscene blasphemy poured from his lips as to cause even the +Texan to wince. Without a word the cowboy reached for a bar of soap +that lay awash in the filthy water of a basin upon a bench beside the +door, and jammed it down the man's throat. The sounds changed to a +sputtering, choking gurgle. "Maybe that'll learn you not to talk vile +when there's ladies around." + +"Water!" the man managed to gasp. + +"Will you quit your damn swearin'?" + +Long Bill nodded, and Tex held a dipper to his lips. + +"Go catch up the horses, Bat, an' we'll be gettin' out of here. They's +some reptiles so mean that even their breath is poison." + +As Bat started for the alfalfa field the man fairly writhed with fury: +"I'll hev the law on ye, ye--" he stopped abruptly as Tex reached for +the soap. + +"You won't have the law on no one, you lizard! You don't dare to get +within hollerin' distance of the law." + +"I will pay you a reasonable amount for any damage to your field, and +for the food, and the use of your horses," offered Endicott, reaching +for his pocket. + +"Keep your money, Win," grinned the Texan. "Let me pay for this. This +coyote owes me twenty dollars he borrowed from me when I first hit the +country an' didn't know him. He's always be'n anxious to pay it, ain't +you, Bill? Well, it's paid now, an' you don't need to go worryin' your +heart out about that debt no longer." + +Again the man opened his lips, but closed them hurriedly as Tex reached +for the soap. + +"I'll have to borrow your horse an' saddle for my friend, here," said +the Texan, "an' Bat, he'll have to borrow one, too. We'll leave 'em in +Timber City." + +"_Non_!" cried the half-breed, who had paused in the process of +changing Alice's saddle to her own horse. "Me--I ain' gon' for bor' no +hoss. Am tak' dis hoss an' giv' heem back to Judge Carson. Him b'long +over on Sage Creek." + +"Whad'ye mean, ye red scum!" screamed the man, his face growing purple. +"That Circle 12 brand is----" + +"Ha! Circle 12! De mos' dat Circle 12 she hair-bran'." He stepped +into the cabin and reappeared a moment later with some coal-oil in a +cup. This he poured into his hand and rubbed over the brand on the +horse's shoulder. And when he had pressed the hair flat, the Circle 12 +resolved itself into a V 2. + +The Texan laughed: "I suppose I ought to take you into Timber City, but +I won't. I imagine, though, when the Judge hears about this, you'd +better be hittin' the high spots. He's right ugly with horse thieves." + +"Hey, hain't ye goin' to ontie me?" squealed the man, as the four +started down the bank with the horses. + +"You don't suppose I'd go off an' leave a good rope where you could get +your claws on it, do you? Wait 'til we get these horses onto the +flat-boat, and all the guns around here collected so you can't peck at +us from the brush, an' I'll be back." + +"You gon' on to Timbaire City," said Bat, "an' I'm com' long bye-m-bye. +A'm tak' dis hoss an' ride back an' git ma saddle an' bridle." He +advanced and removed his hat; "_Adieu, ma'mselle_, mebbe-so I ain' git +dere 'til you gon'. Ol' Bat, he lak' you fine. You need de help, +som'tam', you mak' de write to ol' Bat an', ba Goss, A'm com' lak' +hell--you bet you dam' life!" Tears blinded the girl's eyes as she +held out her hand, and as a cavalier of old France, the half-breed bent +and brushed it with his lips. He shook the hand of Endicott: "Som'tam' +mebbe-so you com' back, we tak' de hont. Me--A'm know where de elk an' +de bear liv' plenty." Endicott detected a twinkle in his eye as he +turned to ascend the bank: "You mak' Tex ke'p de strong lookout for de +posse. A'm no lak' I seen you git hang." + +"Beat it! You old reprobate!" called the Texan as he followed him up +the slope. + +"How'm I goin' to git my boat back?" whined Long Bill, as the Texan +coiled his rope. + +"Swim acrost. Or, maybe you'd better go 'round--it's some little +further that way, but it's safer if you can't swim. I'll leave your +guns in the boat. So long, an' be sure to remember not to furget +sometime an' pay me back that twenty." + +The ride to Timber City was made almost in silence. Only once did the +Texan speak. It was when they passed a band of sheep grazing beside +the road: "They're minin' the country," he said, thoughtfully. "The +time ain't far off when we'll have to turn nester--or move on." + +"Where?" asked Alice. + +The cowboy shrugged, and the girl detected a note of unconscious +sadness in his tone: "I don't know. I reckon there ain't any place for +me. The whole country's about wired in." + +Timber City, since abandoned to the bats and the coyotes, but then in +her glory, consisted of two stores, five saloons, a half-dozen less +reputable places of entertainment, a steepleless board church, a +schoolhouse, also of boards, a hotel, a post office, a feed stable, +fifty or more board shacks of miners, and a few flimsy buildings at the +mouths of shafts. It was nearly noon when the three drew up before the +hotel. + +"Will you dine with us in an hour?" asked Endicott. + +The Texan nodded. "Thanks," he said, formally, "I'll be here." And as +the two disappeared through the door, he gathered up the reins, crossed +to the feed barn where he turned the animals over to the proprietor, +and passing on to the rear, proceeded to take a bath in the watering +trough. + +Punctually on the minute he entered the hotel. The meal was a solemn +affair, almost as silent as the ride from the river. Several attempts +at conversation fell flat, and the effort was abandoned. At no time, +however, did the Texan appear embarrassed, and Alice noted that he +handled his knife and fork with the ease of early training. + +At the conclusion he arose, abruptly: "I thank you. Will you excuse +me, now?" + +Alice nodded, and both watched as he crossed the room, his spurs +trailing noisily upon the wooden floor. + +"Poor devil," said Endicott, "this has hit him pretty hard." + +The girl swallowed the rising lump in her throat: "Oh, why can't he +meet some nice girl, and----" + +"Women--his kind--are mighty scarce out here, I imagine." + +The girl placed her elbows upon the table, rested her chin upon her +knuckles, and glanced eagerly into Endicott's face: + +"Win, you've just got to buy a ranch," she announced, the words fairly +tumbling over each other in her excitement. "Then we can come out here +part of the time and live, and we can invite a lot of girls out for the +summer--I just know oodles of nice girls--and Tex can manage the ranch, +and----" + +"Match-making already!" laughed Endicott. "Why buy a ranch? Why not +move into Wolf River, or Timber City, and start a regular matrimonial +agency--satisfaction guaranteed, or your money back. It would be more +prac----" + +"Winthrop Adams Endicott!" + +"Oh, I forgot! I'm not practical. I'm romantic, and red-blooded, +and--" they had the little dining-room to themselves; he rose swiftly +from his chair and, crossing to her side, stooped and kissed her, not +once, but twice, and thrice,--"I'm glad of it! And that reminds me, I +have a couple of errands to attend to, so you will have to manage to +worry along without me for fifteen minutes or so." + +She laughed up into his face: "How can I ever stand it? I've worried +along without you all my life. I guess I'll survive." + +"You won't have to much longer," he smiled, and hastened from the room. +A half-hour later he returned to find her waiting in the hotel +"parlour." She saw that his eyes were shining as he crossed eagerly, +seated himself upon the haircloth sofa beside her, and whispered in her +ear. + +"Winthrop! Indeed we won't do anything of the kind! Why +it's--it's----" + +"It's impractical, and it's romantic," he finished for her. "Also, +it's unconventional. Now, refuse if you dare! The stage leaves for +Lewiston and the railroad at five. He seems to be a regular chap--the +parson. Both he and his wife insisted that the event take place in +their house. Said it would be much pleasanter than the hotel--and I +heartily agreed with them. We figured that half-past four would give +us just about time." + +"Well, of all things!" blushed the girl. "You two arranged the whole +affair, and of course, as I'm only the bride, it wasn't necessary to +consult me at all!" + +"Exactly," smiled Endicott; "I'm red-blooded, you know, and +romantic--and when I go in for little things like unconventionality, +and romance, I go the limit. And you don't dare refuse!" + +She looked up into his eyes, shining with boyish enthusiasm: "I don't +dare," she whispered. "I don't want to dare. Oh, Win, I--I'm just +crazy about it!" + +A few moments later she drew away from him and smoothed her hair. + +"You must go right this minute and find Tex. And, oh, I hope Bat will +be here in time! I just love old Bat!" She ceased speaking and looked +questioningly into his eyes which had suddenly become grave. + +"I have been looking for Tex, and I couldn't find him anywhere. Then I +went to the stable across the street. His horse is gone." + +For some moments both were silent. "He never even said good-bye," +faltered the girl, and in her voice was a note of real hurt. + +"No," answered Endicott, softly, "he should have said good-bye." + +Alice rose and put on her hat: "Come on, let's get out of this hateful +stuffy little room. Let's walk and enjoy this wonderful air while we +can. And besides, we must find some flowers--wild flowers they must be +for our wedding, mustn't they, dear? Wild flowers, right from God's +own gardens--wild, and free, and uncultivated--untouched by human +hands. I saw some lovely ones, blue and white, and some wild-cherry +blossoms, too, down beside that little creek that crosses the trail +almost at the edge of the town." Together they walked to the creek +that burbled over its rocky bed in the shadow of the bull-pine forest +from which Timber City derived its name. Deeper and deeper into the +pines they went, stopping here and there to gather the tiny white and +blue blossoms, or to break the bloom-laden twigs from the low cherry +bushes. As they rounded a huge upstanding rock, both paused and +involuntarily drew back. There, in the centre of a tiny glade that +gave a wide view of the vast sweep of the plains, with their background +of distant mountains, stood the Texan, one arm thrown across the neck +of his horse, and his cheek resting close against the animal's glossy +neck. For a moment they watched as he stood with his eyes fixed on the +far horizon. + +"Go back a little way," whispered Endicott. "I want to speak with +him." The girl obeyed, and he stepped boldly into the open. + +"Tex!" + +The man whirled. "What you doin' here?" his face flushed red, then, +with an effort, he smiled, as his eyes rested upon the blossoms. +"Pickin' posies?" + +"Yes," answered Endicott, striving to speak lightly, "for a very +special occasion. We are to be married at half-past four, and we want +you to be there--just you, and Bat, and the parson. I hunted the town +for you and when I found your horse gone I--we thought you had ridden +away without even saying good-bye." + +"No," answered the cowboy slowly, "I didn't do that. I was goin' +back--just for a minute--at stage time. But, it's better this way. In +rooms--like at dinner, I ain't at home, any more. It's better out here +in the open. I won't go to your weddin'. Damn it, man, I _can't_! +I'm more than half-savage, I reckon. By the savage half of me, I ought +to kill you. I ought to hate you--but I can't. About a lot of things +you're green as hell. You can't shoot, nor ride, nor rope, nor do +hardly any other damn thing a man ought to do. But, at that, you whirl +a bigger loop than I do. You've got the nerve, an' the head, an' the +heart. You're a man. The girl loves you. An' I love her. My God, +man! More than all the world, I love the woman who is to be your +wife--an' I have no right to! I tell you I'm half-savage! Take her, +an' go! Go fast, an' go a long time! I never want to hear of you +again. But--I can still say--good luck!" he extended his hand and +Endicott seized it. + +"I shall be sorry to think that we are never to meet again," he said +simply. + +The shadow of a smile flickered on the Texan's lips: "After a while, +maybe--but not soon. I've got to lick a savage, first--and they die +hard." + +Endicott turned to go, when the other called to him: "Oh, Win!" He +turned. "Is she here--anywhere around? I must tell her good-bye." + +"Yes, she is down the creek a way. I'll send her to you." + +The Texan advanced to meet her, Stetson in hand: "Good-bye," he said, +"an' good luck. I can't give you no regular weddin' present--there's +nothin' in the town that's fit. But, I'll give you this--I'll give you +your man clean-handed. He ain't wanted. There's no one wants him--but +you. He didn't kill Purdy that night. It's too bad he didn't--but he +didn't. We all thought he did, but he only creased him. He came to, +after we'd pulled out. I heard it from the puncher I had the fight +with in the coulee--an' it's straight goods." He paused abruptly, and +the girl stared wide-eyed into his face. The wild flowers dropped from +her hands, and she laid trembling fingers upon his arm. + +"What are you saying?" she cried, fiercely. "That Purdy is not dead? +That Win didn't kill him? That----" + +"No. Win didn't kill him," interrupted the Texan, with a smile. + +"Have you told Win?" + +"No. Weddin' presents are for the bride. I saved it for you." + +Tears were streaming from the girl's eyes: "It's the most wonderful +wedding present anybody ever had," she sobbed. "I know Win did it for +me, and if he had killed him it would have been justifiable--right. +But, always, we would have had that thing to think of. It would have +been like some hideous nightmare. We could have put it away, but it +would have come again--always. I pretended I didn't care. I wouldn't +let him see that it was worrying me, even more than it worried him." + +The cowboy stooped and recovered the flowers from the ground. As Alice +took them from him, her hand met his: "Good-bye," she faltered, +"and--may God bless you!" + +At the rock she turned and saw him still standing, hat in hand, as she +had left him. Then she passed around the rock, and down the creek, +where her lover waited with his arms laden with blossoms. + + + + +AN EPILOGUE + +At exactly half-past four the Texan galloped to the door of the Red +Front Saloon, and swinging from his horse, entered. Some men were +playing cards at a table in the rear, but he paid them no heed. Very +deliberately he squared himself to the bar and placed his foot upon the +brass rail: "Give me some red liquor," he ordered. And when the +bartender set out the bottle and the glass the cowboy poured it full +and drank it at a gulp. He poured out another, and then a third, and a +fourth. The bartender eyed him narrowly: "Ain't you goin' it a little +strong, pardner?" he asked. The Texan stared at him as if he had not +heard, and answered nothing. A smile bent the white aproned one's lips +as he glanced into his customer's eyes still black from the blow Curt +had dealt him in the coulee. + +"Them lamps of yourn was turned up too high, wasn't they?" he asked. + +The cowboy nodded, thoughtfully: "Yes, that's it. They was turned up +too high--a damn sight too high for me, I reckon." + +"Git bucked off?" + +The blackened eyes narrowed ever so slightly: "No. A guard done that." + +"A guard?" + +"Yes, a guard." The Texan poured out his fifth drink. "In the pen, it +was." + +"In the pen!" The bartender was itching with curiosity. "You don't +look like a jail-bird. They musta got the wrong guy?" he suggested. + +"No. I killed him, all right. I shot his ears off first, an' then +plugged him between the eyes before he could draw. It was fun. I can +shoot straight as hell--an' quick! See that mouse over by the wall?" +Before the words were out of his mouth his Colt roared. The bartender +stared wide-eyed at the ragged bit of fur and blood that was plastered +against the base-board where a moment before a small mouse had been +nibbling a bit of cheese. The men at the card table paused, looked up, +and resumed their game. + +"Man, that's shootin'!" he exclaimed. "Have one on me! This geezer +that you bumped off--self defence, I s'pose?" + +"No. He was a bar-keep over on the Marias. He made the mistake of +takin' ondue notice of a pair of black eyes I'd got--somehow they +looked mirthful to him, an'--" The Texan paused and gazed +reproachfully toward a flick of a white apron as the loquacious one +disappeared through the back door. + +A loud shouting and a rattling of wheels sounded from without. The +card game broke up, and the players slouched out the door. Through the +window the Texan watched the stage pull up at the hotel, watched the +express box swung off, and the barn-dogs change the horses; saw the +exchange of pouches at the post office; saw the stage pull out slowly +and stop before a little white cottage next door to the steepleless +church. Then he reached for the bottle, poured another drink, and +drank it very slowly. Through the open door came the far-away rattle +of wheels. He tossed some money onto the bar, walked to the door, and +stood gazing down the trail toward the cloud of grey dust that grew +dimmer and dimmer in the distance. At last, it disappeared altogether, +and only the trail remained, winding like a great grey serpent toward +the distant black buttes of the Judith Range. He started to re-enter +the saloon, paused with his foot on the threshold and stared down the +empty trail, then facing abruptly about he swung into the saddle, +turned his horse's head northward, and rode slowly out of town. At the +little creek he paused and stared into the piney woods. A tiny white +flower lay, where it had been dropped in the trail, at the feet of his +horse, and he swung low and recovered it. For a long time he sat +holding the little blossom in his hand. Gently he drew it across his +cheek. He remembered--and the memory hurt--that the last time he had +reached from the saddle had been to snatch _her_ handkerchief from the +ground, and he had been just the fraction of a second too late. + +"My luck's runnin' mighty low," he muttered softly, and threw back his +shoulders, as his teeth gritted hard, "but I'm still in the game, an' +maybe this will change it." Very carefully, very tenderly, he placed +the blossom beneath the band inside his hat. "I must go an' hunt for +Bat, the old renegade! If anything's happened to him--if that damned +Long Bill has laid for him--I will kill a man, sure enough." He +gathered up his reins and rode on up the trail, and as he rode the +shadows lengthened. Only once he paused and looked backward at the +little ugly white town. Before him the trail dipped into a wide valley +and he rode on. And, as the feet of his horse thudded softly in the +grey dust of the trail, the sound blended with the low, wailing chant +of the mournful dirge of the plains: + + "O bury me not on the lone prairie + Where the wild coyotes will howl o'er me, + Where the rattlesnakes hiss and the crow flies free, + O bury me not on the lone prairie." + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TEXAN*** + + +******* This file should be named 16976-8.txt or 16976-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/9/7/16976 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/16976-8.zip b/16976-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ce88137 --- /dev/null +++ b/16976-8.zip diff --git a/16976.txt b/16976.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..520d2e1 --- /dev/null +++ b/16976.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9156 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Texan, by James B. Hendryx + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Texan + A Story of the Cattle Country + + +Author: James B. Hendryx + + + +Release Date: October 31, 2005 [eBook #16976] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TEXAN*** + + +E-text prepared by Al Haines + + + +THE TEXAN + +A Story of the Cattle Country + +by + +JAMES B. HENDRYX + +Author of + +"The Gun Brand," "The Promise," etc. + + + + + + + +A. L. Burt Company +Publishers New York +Published by arrangement with G. P. Putnam's Sons +Made in the United States of America + +Copyright, 1918 +By +James B. Hendryx + +Fourth Printing + + + + +This edition is issued under arrangement with the publishers +G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York And London + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +Chapter + + A PROLOGUE + I. THE TRAIN STOPS + II. WOLF RIVER + III. PURDY + IV. CINNABAR JOE + V. ON THE FLAT + VI. THE RIM OF THE BENCH + VII. THE ARREST + VIII. ONE WAY OUT + IX. THE PILGRIM + X. THE FLIGHT + XI. A RESCUE + XII. TEX DOES SOME SCOUTING + XIII. A BOTTLE OF "HOOCH" + XIV. ON ANTELOPE BUTTE + XV. THE TEXAN HEARS SOME NEWS + XVI. BACK IN CAMP + XVII. IN THE BAD LANDS + XVIII. "WIN" + XIX. THE END OF THE TRAIL + + + + +THE TEXAN + + +A PROLOGUE + +Exactly twenty minutes after young Benton dismounted from his big rangy +black before the door of a low adobe saloon that fronted upon one of the +narrow crooked streets of old Las Vegas, he glanced into the eyes of the +thin-lipped croupier and laughed. "You've got 'em. Seventy-four good +old Texas dollars." He held up a coin between his thumb and forefinger. +"I've got another one left, an' your boss is goin' to get that, too--but +he's goin' to get it in legitimate barter an' trade." + +As the cowpuncher stepped to the bar that occupied one side of the room, +a group of Mexicans who had lounged back at his entrance crowded once +more about the wheel and began noisily to place their bets. He watched +them for a moment before turning his attention to the heavy-lidded, +flabby-jowled person who leaned ponderously against the sober side of the +bar. + +"Who owns this joint?" he asked truculently, as he eyed with disfavour +the filthy shirt-sleeves rolled back from thick forearms, the sagging +vest, and the collarless shirt-band that buried itself in a fold of the +fat neck. + +"I do," was the surly rejoinder. "Got any kick comin'?" + +"Nary kick." The cowpuncher tossed his dollar onto the bar. "Give me a +little red licker," he ordered, and grinned at the sullen proprietor as +he filled his glass to the brim. + +"An outfit," he confided, with slow insolence, "that'll run an eagle-bird +wheel ain't got no more conscience than a _hombre's_ got brains that'll +buck one. In Texas we'd shoot a man full of little holes that 'ud try +it." + +"Why'n you stay in Texas, then?" growled the other. + +The cowman drank his liquor and refilled the glass. "Most fat men," he +imparted irrelevantly, "are plumb mindful that they're easy hit, an' +consequent they're cheerful-hearted an' friendly. Likewise, they mind +their own business, which is also why they've be'n let grow to onhuman +proportions. But, not to seem oncivil to a stranger, an' by way of +gettin' acquainted, I'll leak it out that it ain't no fault of Texas that +I come away from there--but owin' only to a honin' of mine to see more of +the world than what Texas affords. + +"The way to see a world," I debates, "is like anythin' else--begin at the +bottom an' work up. So I selects seventy-five dollars an' hits fer Las +Vegas." + +The fat man pocketed the dollar and replaced it with a greasy fifty-cent +piece, an operation which the Texan watched with interest as he swallowed +his liquor. + +"They ain't nothin' like eagle-bird wheels an' snake-liniment at two bits +a throw to help a man start at the bottom," he opined, and reaching for +the half-dollar, tossed it to a forlorn-looking individual who lounged +near the door. "Here, Greaser, lend a hand in helpin' me downward! +Here's four bits. Go lay it on the wheel--an' say: I got a hunch! I +played every number on that wheel except the thirteen--judgin' it to be +onlucky." The forlorn one grinned his understanding, and clutching the +piece of silver, elbowed into the group that crowded the roulette wheel. +The cowpuncher turned once more to the surly proprietor: + +"So now you see me, broke an' among evil companions, in this here +God-forsaken, lizard-ridden, Greaser-loving sheep-herdin' land of sorrow. +But, give me another jolt of that there pizen-fermentus an' I'll raise to +heights unknown. A few more shots of that an' they ain't no tellin' what +form of amusement a man's soul might incline to." + +"Y'got the price?" + +"I ain't got even the makin's--only an ingrowin' cravin' fer spiritual +licker an' a hankerin' to see America first----" + +"That hoss," the proprietor jerked a thumb toward the open door beyond +which the big rangy black pawed fretfully at the street. "Mebbe we might +make a trade. I got one good as him 'er better. It's that sor'l +standin' t'other side of yourn." + +The Texan rested an arm upon the bar and leaned forward confidentially. +"Fatty," he drawled, "you're a liar." The other noted the hand that +rested lightly upon the cowman's hip near the ivory butt of the six-gun +that protruded from its holster, and took no offence. His customer +continued: "They ain't no such horse--an' if they was, _you_ couldn't own +him. They ain't no man ever throw'd a kak on Ace of Spades but me, an' +as fer sellin' him, or tradin' him--I'll shoot him first!" + +A sudden commotion at the back of the room caused both men to turn toward +the wheel where a fierce altercation had arisen between the croupier and +the vagabond to whom the Texan had tossed his last coin. + +"You'll take that er nothin'! It's more money'n y'ever see before +an'----" + +"_Non_! _Non_! De _treize_! De, w'at you call t'irten--she repe't! +A'm git mor' as seex hondre dollaire--" The proprietor lumbered heavily +from behind the bar and Benton noted that the thick fingers closed +tightly about the handle of a bung-starter. The crowd of Mexicans +thinned against the wall as the man with ponderous stealth approached to +a point directly behind the excited vagabond who continued his +protestations with increasing vigour. The next instant the Texan's +six-gun flashed from its holster and as he crossed the room his eye +caught the swift nod of the croupier. + +When the proprietor drew back his arm to strike, the thick wrist was +seized from behind and he was spun violently about to glare into the +smiling eyes of the cowpuncher--eyes in which a steely glint flickered +behind the smile, a glint more ominous even than the feel of the muzzle +of the blue-black six-gun that pressed deeply into his flabby paunch just +above the waistband of his trousers. + +"Drop that mallet!" The words came softly, but with an ungentle softness +that was accompanied by a boring, twisting motion of the gun muzzle as it +pressed deeper into his midriff. The bung-starter thudded upon the floor. + +"Now let's get the straight of this," continued the Texan. "Hey, you +Greaser, if you c'n quit talkin' long enough to say somethin', we'll find +out what's what here. You ort to look both ways when you're in a dump +like this or the coyotes'll find out what you taste like. Come on, +now--give me the facts in the case an' I'll a'joodicate it to suit all +parties that's my way of thinkin'." + +"_Oui_! A'm play de four bit on de _treize_, an' _voila_! She ween! +Da's wan gran' honch! A'm play heem wan tam' mor'. De w'eel she spin +'roun', de leetle ball she sing lak de bee an', _Nom de Dieu_! She +repe't! De t'irten ween ag'in. A'm reech--But _non_!" The man pointed +excitedly to the croupier who sneered across the painted board upon which +a couple of gold pieces lay beside a little pile of silver. "A-ha, +_canaille_! Wat you call--son of a dog! T'ief! She say, 'feefty +dollaire'! Dat more as seex hondre dollaire----" + +"It's a lie!" cried the croupier fiercely, "the thirteen don't repeat. +The sixteen win--you kin see fer yourself. An' what's more, they can't +no damn Injun come in here an' call me no----" + +"Hold on!" The Texan shifted his glance to the croupier without easing +the pressure on the gun. "If the sixteen win, what's the fifty bucks +for? His stake's on the thirteen, ain't it?" + +"What business you got, hornin' in on this? It hain't your funeral. You +Texas tin-horns comes over here an' lose----" + +"That'll be about all out of you. An' if I was in your boots I wouldn't +go speakin' none frivolous about funerals, neither." + +The smile was gone from the steel-grey eyes and the croupier experienced +a sudden chilling in the pit of his stomach. + +"Let's get down to cases," the cowpuncher continued. "I kind of got the +Greaser into this here jack-pot an' it's up to me to get him out. He +lays four bits on the thirteen--she pays thirty-five--that's +seventeen-fifty. Eighteen, as she lays. The blame fool leaves it lay +an' she win again--that's thirty-five times eighteen. Good Lord! An' +without no pencil an' paper! We'll cut her up in chunks an' tackle her: +let's see, ten times eighteen is one-eighty, an' three times that +is--three times the hundred is three hundred, and three times the eighty +is two-forty. That's five-forty, an' a half of one-eighty is ninety, an' +five-forty is six-thirty. We'd ort to double it fer interest an' +goodwill, but we'll leave it go at the reglar price. So, just you skin +off six hundred an' thirty bucks, an' eighteen more, an' pass 'em acrost. +An' do it _pronto_ or somethin' might happen to Fatty right where he's +thickest." The cowpuncher emphasized his remarks by boring the muzzle +even deeper into the unctuous periphery of the proprietor. The croupier +shot a questioning glance toward his employer. + +"Shell it out! You fool!" grunted that worthy. "Fore this gun comes out +my back. An', besides, it's cocked!" Without a word the croupier +counted out the money, arranging it in little piles of gold and silver. + +As the vagabond swept the coins into his battered Stetson the Texan gave +a final twist to the six-gun. "If I was you, Fatty, I'd rub that there +thirteen number off that wheel an' paint me a tripple-ought or mebbe, +another eagle-bird onto it." + +He turned to the man who stood grinning over his hatful of money: + +"Come on, Pedro, me an' you're goin' away from here. The licker this +_hombre_ purveys will shore lead to bloodshed an' riotin', besides which +it's onrespectable to gamble anyhow." + +Pausing to throw the bridle reins over the horn of his saddle, the Texan +linked his arm through that of his companion and proceeded down the +street with the big black horse following like a dog. After several +minutes of silence he stopped and regarded the other thoughtfully. + +"Pedro," he said, "me an' you, fallin' heir to an onexpected legacy this +way, it's fit an' proper we should celebrate accordin' to our lights. +The common an' onchristian way would be to spliflicate around from one +saloon to another 'till we'd took in the whole town an' acquired a couple +of jags an' more or less onfavourable notoriety. Then, in a couple of +days or two, we'd wake up with fur on our tongue an inch long an' our +wealth divided amongst thieves. But, Pedro, such carryin's-on is +ondecent an' improvident. Take them great captains of industry you read +about! D'you reckon every pay-day old Andy Rockyfellow goes a rampin' +down Main Street back there in Noo York, proclaimin' he's a wolf an' it's +his night to howl? Not on your tintype, he don't! If he did he'd never +of rose out of the rank an' file of the labourin' class, an' chances is, +would of got fired out of that fer not showin' up at the corral Monday +mornin'! Y'see I be'n a-readin' up on the lives of these here saints to +kind of get a line on how they done it. Take that whole bunch an' they +wasn't hardly a railroad nor a oil mill nor a steel factory between 'em +when they was born. I got all their numbers. I know jest how they done +it, an' when I get time I'm a-goin' out an' make the Guggenhimers cough +up my share of Mexico an' the Rocky Mountains an' Alaska. + +"But to get down to cases, as the preachers says: Old Andy he don't +cantankerate none noticeable. When he feels needful of a jamboree he +goes down to the bank an' fills his pockets an' a couple of valises with +change, an' gum-shoes down to John D. Swab's, an' they hunt up Charley +Carnage an' a couple of senators an' a rack of chips an' they finds 'em a +back room, pulls off their collars an' coats an' goes to it. They ain't +no kitty only to cover the needful expenses of drinks, eats, an' +smokes--an' everything goes, from cold-decks to second-dealin'. Then +when they've derove recreation enough, on goes their collars an' coats, +an' they eat a handful of cloves an' get to work on the public again. +They's a lot of money changes hands in these here sessions but it never +gets out of the gang, an' after you get their brands you c'n generally +always tell who got gouged by noticin' what goes up. If coal oil hists a +couple of cents on the gallon you know Andy carried his valises home +empty an' if railroad rates jumps--the senators got nicked a little, an' +vicy versy. Now you an' me ain't captains of industry, nor nothin' else +but our own soul, as the piece goes, but 'tain't no harm we should try a +law-abidin' recreation, same as these others, an' mebbe after some +practice we'll get to where the Guggenhimers will be figgerin' how to get +the western hemisphere of North America back from us. + +"It's like this. Me an' you'll stop in an' get us a couple of drinks. +Then we'll hunt us up a hash-house an' put a big bate of ham an' aigs out +of circulation, an' go get us a couple more drinks, an' heel ourselves +with a deck of cards an' a couple bottles of cactus juice, an' hunt us up +a place where we'll be ondisturbed by the riotorious carryin's-on of the +frivolous-minded, an' we'll have us a two-handed poker game which no +matter who wins we can't lose, like I was tellin' you, 'cause they can't +no outside parties horn in on the profits. But first-off we'll hunt up a +feed barn so Ace of Spades can load up on oats an' hay while we're havin' +our party." + +An hour later the Texan deposited a quart bottle, a rack of chips, and a +deck of cards on a little deal table in the dingy back room of a saloon. + +"I tell you, Pedro, they's a whole lot of fancy trimmin's this room ain't +got, but it's quiet an' peaceable an' it'll suit our purpose to a gnat's +hind leg." He dropped into a chair and reached for the rack of chips. + +"It's a habit of mine to set facin' the door," he continued, as he +proceeded to remove the disks and arrange them into stacks. "So if you +got any choist just set down acrost the table there an' we'll start the +festivities. I'll bank the game an' we'll take out a fifty-dollar stack +an' play table stakes." He shoved three stacks of chips across the +table. "Just come acrost with fifty bucks so's we c'n keep the bank +straight an' go ahead an' deal. An' while you're a-doin' it, bein' as +you're a pretty good Greaser, I'll just take a drink to you----" + +"Greasaire, _non_! Me, A'm hate de damn Greasaire!" + +The cowpuncher paused with the bottle half way to his lips and +scrutinized the other: "I thought you was a little off colour an' talked +kind of funny. What be you?" + +"Me, A'm Blood breed. Ma fader she French. Ma moder she Blood Injun. +A'm leeve een Montan' som'tam'--som'tam' een Canada. A'm no lak dees +contrie! Too mooch hot. Too mooch Greasaire! Too mooch sheep. A'm lak +I go back hom'. A'm ride for T. U. las' fall an' A'm talk to round-up +cook, Walt Keeng, hees nam', an' he com' from Areezoon'. She no like +Montan'. She say Areezoon' she bettaire--no fence--beeg range--plent' +cattle. You goin' down dere an' git job you see de good contrie. You no +com' back Nort' no more. So A'm goin' down w'en de col' wedder com' an' +A'm git de job wit' ol' man Fisher on, w'at you call Yuma +bench--_Sacre_!" The half-breed paused and wiped his face. + +"Didn't you like it down Yuma Way?" Benton smiled. + +"Lak it! _Voila_! No wataire! No snow! Too mooch, w'at you call, de +leezard! Een de wintaire, A'm so Godamn hot A'm lak for die. _Non_! +A'm com' way from dere. A'm goin' Nort' an' git me nodder job w'ere A'm +git som' wataire som'tam'. Mebbe so git too mooch col' in wintaire, but, +_voila_! Better A'm lak I freeze l'il bit as burn oop!" + +The Texan laughed. "I don't blame you none. I never be'n down to Yuma +but they tell me it's hell on wheels. Go ahead an' deal, Pedro." + +"Pedro, _non_! Ma moder she nam' Moon Eye, an' ma fader she Cross-Cut +Lajune. Derefor', A'm Batiste Xavier Jean Jacques de Beaumont Lajune." + +The bottle thumped upon the table top. + +"What the hell is that, a name or a song?" + +"Me, das ma nam'--A'm call Batiste Xavier Jean----" + +"Hold on there! If your ma or pa, or whichever one done the namin' +didn't have no expurgated dictionary handy mebbe they ain't to blame--but +from now on, between you an' me, you're Bat. That's name enough, an' the +John Jack Judas Iscariot an' General Jackson part goes in the discards. +An' bein' as this here is only a two-handed game, the discards is +dead---- See?" + +At the end of an hour the half-breed watched with a grin as the Texan +raked in a huge pile of chips. + +"Dat de las'," he said, "Me, A'm broke." + +"Broke!" exclaimed the cowpuncher, "you don't mean you've done lost all +that there six hundred an' forty-eight bucks?" He counted the little +piles of silver and gold, which the half-breed had shoved across the +board in return for stack after stack of chips. + +"Six-forty-two," he totalled. "Let's see, supper was a dollar an' four +bits, drinks two dollars, an' two dollars for this bottle of prune-juice +that's about gone already, an'--Hey, Bat, you're four bits shy! Frisk +yourself an' I'll play you a showdown for them four bits." The other +grinned and held a silver half dollar between his finger and thumb. + +"_Non_! A'm ke'p dat four bit! Dat lucky four bit. A'm ponch hole in +heem an' car' heem roun' ma neck lak' de medicine bag. A'm gon' back +Nort'--me! A'm got no frien's. You de only friend A'm got. You give me +de las' four bit. You, give me de honch to play de t'irteen. A'm git +reech, an' den you mak' de bank, w'at you call, com' 'crost. Now A'm +goin' back to Montan' an' git me de job. Wat de hell!" + +"Where's your outfit?" asked the Texan as he carefully stowed the money +in his pockets. + +"Ha! Ma outfeet--A'm sell dat outfeet to git de money to com' back hom'. +A'm play wan leetle gam' coon can an' _voila_! A'm got no money. De +damn Greasaire she ween dat money an' A'm broke. A'm com' som'tam' on de +freight train--som'tam' walk, an' A'm git dees far. Tomor' A'm git de +freight train goin' Nort' an' som'tam' A'm git to Montan'. Eet ees ver' +far, but mebbe-so A'm git dere for fall round-up. An' Ba Goss, A'm +nevaire com' sout' no mor'. Too mooch hot! Too mooch no wataire! Too +mooch, w'at you call, de pizen boog--mebbe-so in de bed--in de pants--in +de boot--you git bite an' den you got to die! Voila! Wat de hell!" + +The Texan laughed and reaching into his pocket drew out two twenty dollar +gold pieces and a ten which thudded upon the table before the astonished +eyes of the half-breed. + +"Here, Bat, you're a damn good Injun! You're plumb squanderous with your +money, but you're a good sport. Take that an' buy you a ticket to as far +North as it'll get you. Fifty bucks ort to buy a whole lot of car +ridin'. An' don't you stop to do no gamblin', neither---- Ain't I told +you it's onrespectable an' divertin' to morals? If you don't _sabe_ coon +can no better'n what you do poker, you stand about as much show amongst +these here Greasers as a rabbit in a coyote patch. It was a shame to +take your money this way, but bein' as you're half-white it was up to me +to save you the humiliatin' agony of losin' it to Greasers." + +The half-breed pocketed the coins as the other buttoned his shirt and +took another long pull at the bottle. + +"Wer' you goin' now?" he asked as the cowpuncher started for the door. +The man paused and regarded him critically. "First off, I'm goin' to get +my horse. An' then me an' you is goin' down to the depot an' you're +a-goin' to buy that there ticket. I'm a-goin' to see that you get it +ironclad an' onredeemable, I ain't got no confidence in no gambler an' +bein' as I've took a sort of likin' to you, I hate to think of you +a-walkin' clean to Montana in them high-heeled boots. After that I'm +a-goin' to start out an' examine this here town of Las Vegas lengthways, +crossways, down through the middle, an' both sides of the crick. An' +when that's off my mind, I'm a-goin' to begin on the rest of the world." +He moved his arm comprehensively and reached for the bottle. + +"You wait right here till I get old Ace of Spades," he continued solemnly +when he had rasped the raw liquor from his throat. "If you ain't here +when I come back I'll swallow-fork your ears with this here gat just to +see if my shootin' eye is in practice. The last time I done any fancy +shootin' I was kind of wild--kep' a-hittin' a little to one side an' the +other--not much, only about an inch or so--but it wasn't right good +shootin'." + +The half-breed grinned: "A'm stay here till you com' back. A'm fin' dat +you ma frien'. A'm lak' you, _bien_!" + +When the Texan returned, fifteen minutes later, the man of many names was +gone. "It's just like I said, you can't trust no gambler," he muttered, +with a doleful nod of the head. "He's pulled out on me, but he better +not infest the usual marts of midnight. 'Cause I'm a-goin' to start out +an' take in everything that's open in this man's town, an' if I find him +I'll just nachelly show him the onprincipledness of lyin' to a friend." + +Stepping to the bar he bought a drink and a moment later swung onto the +big rangy black and clattered down the street. At the edge of the town +he turned and started slowly back, dismounting wherever the lights of a +saloon illumined the dingy street, but never once catching a glimpse of +the figure that followed in the thick blackness of the shadows. Before +the saloon of the surly proprietor the cowpuncher brought his big black +to a stand and sat contemplating the sorrel that stood dejectedly with +ears adroop and one hind foot resting lightly upon the toe. + +"So that's the cayuse Fatty wanted to trade me for Ace of Spades!" he +snorted. "That dog-legged, pot-gutted, lop-eared patch of red he offers +to trade to _me_ fer _Ace of Spades_! It's a doggone insult! I didn't +know it at the time, havin' only a couple of drinks, an' too sober to +judge a insult when I seen one. But it's different now, I can see it in +the dark. I'm a-goin' in there an'--an' twist his nose off an' feed it +to him. But first I got to find old Bat. He's an Injun, but he's a good +old scout, an' I hate to think of him walkin' all the way to Montana +while some damn Greaser is spendin' my hard earned samolians that I give +him for carfare. It's a long walk to Montana. Plumb through Colorado +an' Wyomin' an'--an' New Jersey, or somewheres. Mebbe he's in there now. +As they say in the Bible, or somewheres, you got to hunt for a thing +where you find it, or something. Hold still, there you black devil you! +What you want to stand there spinnin' 'round like a top for? You be'n +drinkin', you doggone old ringtail! What was I goin' to do, now. Oh, +yes, twist Patty's nose, an' find Bat an' shoot at his ears a while, an' +make him get his ticket to New Jersey an'---- + +"This is a blame slow old town, she needs wakin' up, anyhow. If I ride +in that door I'll get scraped off like mud off a boot." + +He spurred the black and brought him up with a jerk beside the sorrel +which snorted and reared back, snapping the reins with which he had been +tied, and stood with distended nostrils sniffing inquiringly at Ace of +Spades as the cowpuncher swung to the ground. + +"Woke up, didn't you, you old stager? Y'ain't so bad lookin' when you're +alive. Patty'll have to get him a new pair of bridle reins. Mebbe the +whole town'll look better if it's woke up some. + +"Y-e-e-e-e-o-w! Cowboys a-comin'!" + +A citizen or two paused on the street corner, a few Mexicans grinned as +they drew back to allow the Gringo free access to the saloon, and a +swarthy figure slipped unobserved across the street and blended into the +shadow of the adobe wall. + +"O-o-o-o-o-h, the yaller r-o-s-e of Texas!" sang the cowpuncher, with +joyous vehemence. As he stepped into the room, his eyes swept the faces +of the gamblers and again he burst into vociferous song: + +"O-o-o-o-o-h, w-h-e-r-e is my wanderin' b-o-y tonight?" + +"Hey, you! Whad'ye think this is, a camp meetin'?" + +The Texan faced the speaker. "Well, if it ain't my old college chum! +Fatty, I stopped in a purpose to see you. An' besides which, by the +unalien rights of the Constitution an' By-laws of this here United States +of Texas, a man's got a right to sing whatever song suits him +irregardless of sex or opportunity." The other glared malevolently as +the cowpuncher approached the bar with a grin. "Don't bite yourself an' +die of hydrophobia before your eggication is complete, which it ain't +till you've learnt never to insult no Texas man by offerin' to trade no +rat-tailed, ewe-necked old buzzard fodder fer a top Texas horse. + +"Drop that mallet! An' don't go reachin-' around in under that bar, +'cause if you find what you're huntin' fer you're a-goin' to see fer +yourself if every cloud's got a silver linin'. 'Tend to business now, +an' set out a bottle of your famous ol' Las Vegas stummick shellac an' +while I'm imbibin' of its umbilical ambrosier, I'll jest onscrew your +nose an' feed it to the cat." + +Sweat stood out upon the forehead of the heavy-paunched proprietor as +with a flabby-faced grin he set out the bottle. But the Texan caught the +snake-like flash of the eyes with which the man signalled to the croupier +across the room. Gun in hand, he whirled: + +"No, you don't, Toney!" An ugly blue-black automatic dropped to the +floor and the croupier's hands flew ceilingward. + +"I never seen such an outfit to be always a-reachin'," grinned the +cowpuncher. "Well, if there ain't the ol' eagle-bird wheel! Give her a +spin, Toney! They say you can't hit an eagle on the fly with a six-gun, +but I'm willin' to try! Spin her good, 'cause I don't want no onfair +advantage of that there noble bird. Stand back, Greasers, so you don't +get nicked!" + +As the croupier spun the wheel, three shots rang in an almost continuous +explosion and the gamblers fell over each other in an effort to dodge the +flying splinters that filled the powder-fogged air. + + "Little black bull slid down the mountain, + L-o-n-g t-i-m-e ago!" + +roared the Texan as he threw open the cylinder of his gun. + + "H-e-e-e-e scraped his horn on a hickory saplin', + L-o-n-g t-i-m-e ago----" + +There was a sudden commotion behind him, a swift rush of feet, a muffled +thud, and a gasping, agonized grunt. The next instant the huge acetelyne +lamp that lighted the room fell to the floor with a crash and the place +was plunged in darkness. + +"Queek, m's'u, dees way!" a hand grasped his wrist and the cowpuncher +felt himself drawn swiftly toward the door. From all sides sounded the +scuffling of straining men who breathed heavily as they fought in the +blackness. + +A thin red flame cut the air and a shot rang sharp. Someone screamed and +a string of Spanish curses blended into the hubbub of turmoil. + +"De hosses, queek, m's'u!" + +The cool air of the street fanned the Texan's face as he leaped across +the sidewalk, and vaulted into the saddle. The next moment the big black +was pounding the roadway neck and neck with another, smaller horse upon +which the half-breed swayed in the saddle with the ease and grace of the +loose-rein rider born. + +It was broad daylight when the cowpuncher opened his eyes in an arroyo +deep among the hills far, far from Las Vegas. He rubbed his forehead +tenderly, and crawling to a spring a few feet distant, buried his face in +the tiny pool and drank deeply of the refreshing liquid. Very +deliberately he dried his face on a blue handkerchief, and fumbled in his +pockets for papers and tobacco. As he blew the grey smoke from his +nostrils he watched the half-breed who sat nearby industriously splicing +a pair of broken bridle reins. + +"Did you get that ticket, Bat?" he asked, with a hand pressed tightly +against his aching forehead. + +The other grinned. "Me, A'm no wan' no ticket. A'm lak A'm stay wit' +you, an' mebbe-so we git de job togedder." + +The cowpuncher smoked for a time in silence. + +"What was the rookus last night?" he asked, indifferently. Then, +suddenly, his eye fell upon the sorrel that snipped grass at the end of a +lariat rope near the picketed black, and he leaped to his feet. "Where'd +you get that horse?" he exclaimed sharply. "It's Fatty's! There's the +reins he busted when he snorted loose!" + +Again the half-breed grinned. "A'm bor' dat hoss for com' 'long wit' +you. Dat Fatty, she damn bad man. She try for keel you w'en you tak' de +shot at de wheel. A'm com' 'long dat time an' A'm keek heem in de guts +an' he roll 'roun' on de floor, an' A'm t'row de bottle of wheesky an' +smash de beeg lamp an' we com' 'long out of dere." The cowpuncher tossed +his cigarette away and spat upon the ground. + +"How'd you happen to come in there so handy just at the right time?" he +asked with a sidewise glance at the half-breed. + +"Oh, A'm fol' you long tam'. A'm t'ink mebbe-so you git l'il too mooch +hooch an' som'one try for do you oop. A'm p'ek in de door an' seen Fatty +gon' shoot you. Dat mak' me mad lak hell, an' A'm run oop an' keek heem +so hard I kin on hees belly. You ma frien'. A'm no lak I seen you git +keel." + +The Texan nodded. "I see. You're a damn good Injun, Bat, an' I ain't +got no kick comin' onto the way you took charge of proceedin's. But you +sure raised hell when you stole that horse. They's prob'ly about +thirty-seven men an' a sheriff a-combin' these here hills fer us at this +partic'lar minute an' when they catch us----" + +The half-breed laughed. "Dem no ketch. We com' feefty mile. Dat leetle +hoss she damn good hoss. We got de two bes' hoss. We ke'p goin' dey no +ketch. 'Spose dey do ketch. Me, A'm tell 'em A'm steal dat hoss an' you +not know nuthin' 'bout dat." + +There was a twinkle in the Texan's eye as he yawned and stretched +prodigiously. "An' I'll tell 'em you're the damnedest liar in the state +of Texas an' North America throw'd in. Come on, now, you throw the +shells on them horses an' we'll be scratchin' gravel. Fifty miles ain't +no hell of a ways--my throat's beginnin' to feel kind of draw'd already." + +"W'er' we goin'?" asked the half-breed as they swung into the saddles. + +"Bat," said the other, solemnly, "me an' you is goin' fast, an' we're +goin' a long time. You mentioned somethin' about Montana bein' +considerable of a cow country. Well, me an' you is a-goin' North--as far +North as cattle is--an' we're right now on our way!" + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE TRAIN STOPS + +"I don't see why they had to build their old railroad down in the +bottom of this river bed." With deft fingers Alice Marcum caught back +a wind-tossed whisp of hair. "It's like travelling through a trough." + +"Line of the least resistance," answered her companion as he rested an +arm upon the polished brass guard rail of the observation car. "This +river bed, running east and west, saved them millions in bridges." + +The girl's eyes sought the sky-line of the bench that rose on both +sides of the mile-wide valley through which the track of the great +transcontinental railroad wound like a yellow serpent. + +"It's level up there. Why couldn't they have built it along the edge?" + +The man smiled: "And bridged all those ravines!" he pointed to gaps and +notches in the level sky-line where the mouths of creek beds and +coulees flashed glimpses of far mountains. "Each one of those ravines +would have meant a trestle and trestles run into big money." + +"And so they built the railroad down here in this ditch where people +have to sit and swelter and look at their old shiny rails and scraggly +green bushes and dirt walls, while up there only a half a mile away the +great rolling plains stretch away to the mountains that seem so near +you could walk to them in an hour." + +"But, my dear girl, it would not be practical. Railroads are built +primarily with an eye to dividends and--" The girl interrupted him +with a gesture of impatience. + +"I hate things that are practical--hate even the word. There is +nothing in all the world so deadly as practicability. It is ruthless +and ugly. It disregards art and beauty and all the higher things that +make life worth living. It is a monster whose god is dollars--and who +serves that god well. What does any tourist know of the real West--the +West that lies beyond those level rims of dirt? How much do you or I +know of it? The West to us is a thin row of scrub bushes along a +narrow, shallow river, with a few little white-painted towns sprinkled +along, that for all we can see might be in Illinois or Ohio. I've been +away a whole winter and for all the West I've seen I might as well have +stayed in Brooklyn." + +"But certainly you enjoyed California!" + +"California! Yes, as California. But California isn't the _West_! +California is New York with a few orange groves thrown in. It is a +tourist's paradise. A combination of New York and Palm Beach. The +real West lies east of the Rockies, the uncommercialized, +unexploited--I suppose you would add, the unpractical West. A New +Yorker gets as good an idea of the West when he travels by train to +California as a Californian would get of New York were he to arrive by +way of the tube and spend the winter in the Fritz-Waldmore." + +"I rather liked California, what little I saw of it. A business trip +does not afford an ideal opportunity for sight seeing." + +"You like Newport and Palm Beach, too." + +The man ignored the interruption. + +"But, at least, this trip has combined a good bit of business with a +very big bit of pleasure. It is two years since I have seen you +and----" + +"And so you're going to tell me for the twenty-sixth time in three days +that you still love me, and that you want me to marry you, and I'll +have to say 'no' again, and explain that I'm not ready to marry +anybody." She regarded him with an air of mock solemnity. "But really +Mr. Winthrop Adams Endicott I think you _have_ improved since you +struck out for yourself into the wilds of--where was it, Ohio, or some +place." + +"Cincinnati," answered the man a trifle stiffly. The girl shuddered. +"I had to change cars there once." Again she eyed him critically. +"Yes, two years have made a really noticeable improvement. Do the +Cincinnati newspapers always remember to use your whole name or do they +dare to refer to Winthrop A. Endicott. If I were a reporter I really +believe I'd try it once. If you keep on improving, some day somebody +is going to call you Win." + +The man flushed: "Are you never serious?" he asked. + +"Never more so than this minute." + +"You say you are not ready to many. You expect to marry, then, +sometime?" + +"I don't _expect_ to. I'm _going_ to." + +"Will you marry me when you are ready?" + +The girl laughed. "Yes, if I can't find the man I want, I think I +shall. But he must be somewhere," she continued, after a pause during +which her eyes centred upon the point where the two gleaming rails +vanished into the distance. "He must be impractical, and human, +and--and _elemental_. I'd rather be smashed to pieces in the Grand +Canyon, than live for ever on the Erie Canal!" + +"Aren't you rather unconventional in your tastes----?" + +"If I'm not, I'm a total failure! I hate conventionality! And lines +of least resistance! And practical things! It is the _men_ who are +the real sticklers for convention. The same kind of men that follow +the lines of least resistance and build their railroads along +them--because it is practical! + +"I don't see why you want to marry me!" she burst out resentfully. +"I'm not conventional, nor practical. And I'm not a line of least +resistance!" + +"But I love you. I have always loved you, and----" + +The girl interrupted him with a quick little laugh, which held no trace +of resentment. "Yes, yes, I know. I believe you do. And I'm glad +because really, Winthrop, you're a dear. There are lots of things +about you I admire. Your teeth, and eyes, and the way you wear your +clothes. If you weren't so terribly conventional, so cut and dried, +and matter of fact, and _safe_, I might fall really and truly in love +with you. But--Oh, I don't know! Here I am, twenty-three. And I +suppose I'm a little fool and have never grown up. I like to read +stories about knights errant, and burglars, and fair ladies, and +pirates, and mysterious dark oriental-looking men. And I like to go to +places where everybody don't go--only Dad won't let me and---- Why +just think!" she exclaimed in sudden wrath, "I've been in California +for three months and I've ridden over the same trails everybody else +has ridden over, and motored over the same roads and climbed the same +mountains, and bathed at the same beach, and I've met everybody I ever +knew in New York, just as I would have met them in Newport or Palm +Beach or in Paris or Venice or Naples for that matter!" + +"But why go off the beaten track where everything is arranged for your +convenience? These people are experienced travellers. They know that +by keeping to the conventional routes-----" + +"Winthrop Adams Endicott, if you say that word again I'll shriek! Or +I'll go in from this platform and not speak to you again--ever! You +know very well that there isn't a traveller among them. They're just +tourists--professional goers. They do the same things, and say the +same things, and if they could think, they'd think the same things +every place they go. And I don't want things arranged for my +convenience--so there!" + +Winthrop Adams Endicott lighted a cigarette, brushed some white dust +from his sleeve, and smiled. + +"If I were a man and loved a girl so very, very much I wouldn't just +sit around and grin. I'd do something!" + +"But, my dear Alice, what would you have me do? I'm not a knight +errant, nor a burglar, nor a pirate, nor a dark mysterious +oriental--I'm just a plain ordinary business man and----" + +"Well, I'd do something--even if it was something awful like getting +drunk or shooting somebody. Why, if you even had a past you wouldn't +be so hopeless. I could love a man with a past. It would show at +least, that he hadn't followed the line of the least resistance. The +world is full of canals--but there are only a few canyons. Look! I +believe we're stopping! Oh, I hope it's a hold-up! What will you do +if it is?" The train slowed to a standstill and Winthrop Adams +Endicott leaned out and gazed along the line of the coaches. + +"There is a little town here. Seems to be some commotion up +ahead--quite a crowd. If I can get this blamed gate open we can go up +and see what the trouble is." + +"And if you can't get it open you can climb over and lift me down. I'm +just dying to know what's the matter. And if you dare to say it +wouldn't be conventional I'll--I'll jump!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +WOLF RIVER + +A uniformed flagman, with his flag and a handful of torpedoes swung +from the platform and started up the track. + +"What's the trouble up in front?" asked the girl as Endicott assisted +her to the ground. + +"Cloud busted back in the mountains, an' washed out the trussle, an' +Second Seventy-six piled up in the river." + +"Oh, a wreck?" she exclaimed. "Will we have time to go up and see it?" + +"I'd say it's a wreck," grinned the trainman. "An' you've got all the +time you want. We're a-goin' to pull in on the sidin' an' let the +wrecker an' bridge crew at it. But even with 'em a-workin' from both +ends it'll be tomorrow sometime 'fore they c'n get them box cars drug +out an' a temp'ry trussle throw'd acrost." + +"What town is this?" + +"Town! Call it a town if you want to. It's Wolf River. It's a +shippin' point fer cattle, but it hain't no more a town 'n what the +crick's a river. The trussle that washed out crosses the crick just +above where it empties into Milk River. I've railroaded through here +goin' on three years an' I never seen no water in it to speak of +before, an' mostly it's plumb dry." + +The man sauntered slowly up the track as one who performs a merely +nominal duty, and the girl turned to follow Endicott. "It would have +been easier to walk through the train," he ventured, as he picked his +way over the rough track ballast. + +"Still seeking the line of least resistance," mocked the girl. "We can +walk through a train any time. But we can't breathe air like this, +and, see,--through that gap--the blue of the distant mountains!" + +The man removed his hat and dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief. +"It's awfully hot, and I have managed to secrete a considerable portion +of the railroad company's gravel in my shoes." + +"Don't mind a little thing like that," retorted the girl sweetly. +"I've peeled the toes of both of mine. They look like they had scarlet +fever." + +Passengers were alighting all along the train and hurrying forward to +join those who crowded the scene of the wreck. + +"It was a narrow escape for us," said Endicott as the two looked down +upon the mass of broken cars about which the rapidly falling waters of +the stream gurgled and swirled. "Had we not been running an hour late +this train would in all probability, have plunged through the trestle." + +"Was anybody hurt?" asked the girl. The train conductor nodded toward +the heap of debris. + +"No'm, the crew jumped. The fireman an' head brakeman broke a leg +apiece, an' the rest got bunged up a little; but they wasn't no one +hurt. + +"I was just tellin' these folks," he continued, "that they'll be a +train along on the other side in a couple of hours for to transfer the +passengers an' mail." + +The girl turned to Endicott. "There isn't much to see here," she said. +"Let's look around. It's such a funny little town. I want to buy +something at the store. And, there's a livery stable! Maybe we can +hire horses and ride out where we can get a view of the mountains." + +As the two turned toward the little cluster of frame buildings, a tall, +horse-faced man clambered onto the pilot of the passenger locomotive +and, removing his hat, proceeded to harangue the crowd. As they paused +to listen Alice stared in fascination at the enormous Adam's apple that +worked, piston-like above the neckband of the collarless shirt of vivid +checks. + +"Ladies an' gents," he began, with a comprehensive wave of the +soft-brimmed hat. "Wolf River welcomes you in our town. An' while +you're amongst us we aim to show you one an' all a good time. This +here desastorious wreck may turn out to be a blessin' in disguise. As +the Good Book says, it come at a most provincial time. Wolf River, +ladies an' gents, is celebratin', this afternoon an' evenin', a event +that marks an' epykak in our historious career: The openin' of the Wolf +River Citizen's Bank, a reg'lar bonyfido bank with vaults, cashier, an' +a board of directors consistin' of her leadinist citizens, with the +Honorable Mayor Maloney president, which I introdoose myself as. + +"In concludin' I repeet that this here is ondoubtfully the luckiest +wreck in the lives of any one of you, which it gives you a +unpressagented chanct to see with your own eyes a hustlin' Western town +that hain't ashamed to stand on her own legs an' lead the world along +the trail to prosperity. + +"Wolf River hain't a braggin' town, ladies an' gents, but I defy any +one of you to name another town that's got more adjacent an' contigitus +territory over which to grow onto. We freely admit they's a few +onconsequential improvements which is possessed by some bigger an' more +notorious cities such as sidewalks, sewers, street-gradin', an' lights +that we hain't got yet. But Wolf River is a day an' night town, ladies +an' gents, combinin' business with pleasure in just the right +perportion, which it's plain to anyone that takes the trouble to +investigate our shippin' corrals, four general stores, one _ho_tel, an' +seven saloons, all of which runs wide open twenty-four hours a day an' +is accommodated with faro, roulette, an' poker outfits fer the benefit +of them that's so inclined to back their judgment with a little money. + +"In concloodin' I'll say that owin' to the openin' of the bank about +which I was tellin' you of, Wolf River is holdin' the followin' +programme which it's free to everyone to enter into or to look on at. + +"They'll be a ropin' contest, in which some of our most notorious +ropers will rope, throw, an' hog-tie a steer, in the least shortness of +time. The prizes fer this here contest is: First prize, ten dollars, +doneated by the directors of the bank fer which's openin' this +celebration is held in honour of. Second prize, one pair of pants +doneated by the Montana Mercantile Company. Third prize, one quart of +bottle in bond whiskey doneated by our pop'lar townsman an' leadin' +citizen, Mr. Jake Grimshaw, proprietor of The Long Horn Saloon. + +"The next contest is a buckin' contest, in which some of our most +notorious riders will ride or get bucked offen some of our most fameous +outlaw horses. The prizes fer this here contest is: First, a pair of +angory chaps, doneated by the directors of the bank about which I have +spoke of before. Second prize, a pair of spurs doneated by the Wolf +River Tradin' Company. Third prize, a coffin that was ordered by Sam +Long's wife from the Valley Outfittin' Company, when Sam had the +apendiceetis of the stummick, an' fer which Sam refused to pay fer when +he got well contrary to expectations. + +"Both these here contests is open to ladies an' gents, both of which is +invited to enter. They will also be hoss racin', fancy an' trick +ridin', an' shootin', fer all of which sootable prizes has be'n +pervided, as well as fer the best lookin' man an' the homliest lady an' +vicy versy. Any lady or gent attendin' these here contests will be +gave out a ticket good fer one drink at any saloon in town. These +drinks is on the directors of the bank of which I have before referred +to. + +"An', ladies an' gents, in concloodin' I'll say that that hain't all! +Follerin' these here contests, after each an' every lady an' gent has +had time to git their drink they'll be a supper dished out at the +_ho_otel fer which the directors of the bank of which you have already +heard mention of has put up fifty cents a plate. This here supper is +as free as gratis to all who care to percipitate an' which will +incloode a speech by the Honorable Mayor Maloney, part of which I have +already spoke, but will repeat fer the benefit of them that hain't here. + +"Followin' the supper a dance will be pulled off in Curly Hardee's +dance-hall, the music fer which will be furnished by some of our most +notorious fiddlers incloodin' Mrs. Slim Maloney, wife of the Honorable +Mayor Maloney, who will lead the grand march, an' who I consider one of +the top pyanoists of Choteau County, if not in the hull United States. +It is a personal fact ladies an' gents, that I've heard her set down to +a pyano an' play _Old Black Joe_ so natural you'd swear it was _Home +Sweet Home_. An' when she gits het up to it, I'll promise she'll +loosen up an' tear off some of the liveliest music any one of you's +ever shook a leg to. + +"An' now, ladies an' gents, you can transfer an' go on when the train +pulls in on t'other side, or yon can stay an' enjoy yourselves amongst +us Wolf River folks an' go on tomorrow when the trussle gits fixed----" + +"Ye-e-e-e-o-o-w! W-h-e-e-e-e." + +Bang, bang, bang! Bang, bang, bang! A chorus of wild yells, a +fusillade of shots, and the thud of horses' hoofs close at hand drew +all eyes toward the group of riders that, spreading fan-like over the +flat that lay between the town and the railway, approached at top speed. + +"The cowboys is comin'! Them's the Circle J," cried the Mayor. +"Things'll lively up a bit when the T U an' the I X an' the Bear Paw +Pool boys gits in." The cowboys were close, now, and the laughing, +cheering passengers surged back as the horses swerved at full speed +with the stirrups of their riders almost brushing the outermost rank of +the crowd. A long thin rope shot out, a loop settled gently about the +shoulders of the Mayor of Wolf River, and a cowhorse stopped so +abruptly that a cloud of alkali dust spurted up and settled in a grey +powder over the clothing of the assembled passengers. + +"Come on, Slim, an' give these folks a chance to get their second wind +while you let a little licker into that system of yours." + +The Mayor grinned; "Tex Benton, hain't you had no bringin' up whatever? +That was a pretty throw but it's onrespectable, no mor'n what it's +respectable to call the Mayor of a place by his first name to a public +meetin'." + +"I plumb ferget myself, your Honour," laughed the cowpuncher as he +coiled his rope. "Fact is, I learnt to rope mares back in Texas, an' I +ain't----" + +"Yip-e-i-e!" + +"Ropin' mares!" The cowboys broke into a coyote chorus that drowned +the laughter of the crowd. + +"The drinks is on me!" sputtered the Mayor, when he was able to make +himself heard. "Jest you boys high-tail over to the Long Horn an' I'll +be along d'rectly." He turned once more to the crowd of passengers. + +"Come on, gents, an' have a drink on me. An' the ladies is welcome, +too. Wolf River is broad in her idees. We hain't got no sexual +restrictions, an' a lady's got as good a right to front a bar an' +nominate her licker as what a man has." + +Standing beside Endicott upon the edge of the crowd Alice Marcum had +enjoyed herself hugely. The little wooden town with its high fenced +cattle corrals, and its row of one story buildings that faced the +alkali flat had interested her from the first, and she had joined with +hearty goodwill in the rounds of applause that at frequent intervals +had interrupted the speech of the little town's Mayor. A born +horsewoman, she had watched with breathless admiration the onrush of +the loose-rein riders--the graceful swaying of their bodies, and the +flapping of soft hat brims, as their horses approached with a thunder +of pounding hoofs. Her eyes had sparkled at the reckless swerving of +the horses when it seemed that the next moment the back-surging crowd +would be trampled into the ground. She had wondered at the precision +with which the Texan's loop fell; and had joined heartily in the +laughter that greeted the ludicrous and red-faced indignation with +which a fat woman had crawled from beneath a coach whither she had +sought refuge from the onrush of thundering hoofs. + +In the mind of the girl, cowboys had always been associated with motion +picture theatres, where concourses of circus riders in impossible +regalia performed impossible feats of horsemanship in the unravelling +of impossible plots. She had never thought of them as real--or, if she +had, it was as a vanished race, like the Aztec and the buffalo. + +But here were real cowboys in the flesh: Open-throated, bronzed man, +free and unrestrained as the air they breathed--men whose very +appearance called to mind boundless open spaces, purple sage, blue +mountains, and herds of bellowing cattle. Here were men bound by no +petty and meaningless conventions--men the very sight of whom served to +stimulate and intensify the longing to see for herself the land beyond +the valley rims--to slip into a saddle and ride, and ride, and ride--to +feel the beat of the rain against her face, and the whip of the wind, +and the burning rays of the sun, and at night to lie under the winking +stars and listen to the howl of the coyotes. + +"Disgusting rowdies!" wheezed the fat woman as, dishevelled and +perspiring, she waddled toward the steps of her coach; while the Mayor, +his Adam's apple fairly pumping importance, led a sturdy band of +thirsters recruited from among the train passengers across the flat +toward a building over the door of which was fixed a pair of horns of +prodigious spread. Lest some pilgrim of erring judgment should mistake +the horns for short ones, or misapprehend the nature of the business +conducted within, the white false front of the building proclaimed in +letters of black a foot high: LONG HORN SALOON. While beneath the +legend was depicted a fat, vermilion clad cowboy mounted upon a +tarantula-bodied, ass-eared horse of pink, in the act of hurling a +cable-like rope which by some prodigy of dexterity was made to describe +three double-bows and a latigo knot before its loop managed to poise in +mid-air above the head of a rabbit-sized baby-blue steer whose horns +exceeded in length the pair of Texas monstrosities that graced the +doorway. + +"We're goin' to back onto the sidin' now," announced the conductor, +"where dinner will be served in the dinin' car as ushool." + +The cowboys had moved along to view the wreck and were grouped about +the broken end of the trestle where they lolled in their saddles, some +with a leg thrown carelessly about the horn and others lying back over +the cantle, while the horses which a few moments before had dashed +across the common at top speed now stood with lowered heads and +drooping ears, dreaming cayuse dreams. + +The engine bell was ringing monotonously and the whistle sounded three +short blasts, while the passengers clambered up the steps of the +coaches or backed away from the track. + +"Let's walk to the side track, it's only a little way." + +Alice pointed to where the flagman stood beside the open switch. +Endicott nodded acquiescence and as he turned to follow, the girl's +handkerchief dropped from her hand and, before it touched the ground, +was caught by a gust of wind that swept beneath the coaches and whirled +out onto the flat where it lay, a tiny square of white against the +trampled buffalo grass. + +Endicott started to retrieve it, but before he had taken a half-dozen +steps there was a swift pounding of hoofs and two horses shot out from +the group of cowboys and dashed at full speed, their riders low in the +saddle and each with his gaze fixed on the tiny bit of white fabric. +Nose and nose the horses ran, their hoofs raising a cloud of white +alkali dust in their wake. Suddenly, just as they reached the +handkerchief, the girl who watched with breathless interest gasped. +The saddles were empty! From the madly racing horses her glance flew +to the cloud of dust which concealed the spot where a moment before had +lain that little patch of white. Her fingers clenched as she steeled +herself to the sight of the two limp, twisted forms that the lifting +dust cloud must reveal. Scarcely daring to wink she fixed her eyes +upon the ground--but the dust cloud had drifted away and there were no +limp, twisted forms. Even the little square of white was gone. In +bewilderment she heard cries of approval and loud shouts of applause +from the passengers. Once more her ears caught the sound of pounding +hoofs, and circling toward her in a wide curve were the two riders, +erect and firm in their saddles, as a gauntleted hand held high a +fluttering scrap of white. + +The horses brought up directly before her, a Stetson was swept from a +thick shock of curly black hair, the gauntleted hand extended the +recalcitrant handkerchief, and she found herself blushing furiously for +no reason at all beneath the direct gaze of a pair of very black eyes +that looked out from a face tanned to the colour of old mahogany. + +"Oh, thank you! It was splendid--the horsemanship." She stammered. +"I've seen it in the movies, but I didn't know it was actually done in +real life." + +"Yes, mom, it is. It's owin' to the horse yeh've got, an' yer cinch. +Yeh'll see a heap better'n that this afternoon right on this here flat. +An' would yeh be layin' over fer the dance tonight, mom?" + +The abrupt question was even more disconcerting than the compelling +directness of his gaze. + +For an instant, the girl hesitated as her eyes swept from the +cowpuncher's face to the brilliant scarf loosely knotted about his +throat, the blue flannel shirt, the bright yellow angora chaps against +which the ivory butt of a revolver showed a splotch of white, and the +boots jammed into the broad wooden stirrups, to their high heels from +which protruded a pair of enormously rowelled spurs inlaid with silver. +By her side Endicott moved impatiently and cleared his throat. + +She answered without hesitation. "Yes, I think I shall." + +"I'd admire fer a dance with yeh, then," persisted the cowpuncher. + +"Why--certainly. That is, if I really decide to stay." + +"We'll try fer to show yeh a good time, mom. They'll be some right +lively fiddlin', an' she don't bust up till daylight." + +With a smile the girl glanced toward the other rider who sat with an +air of tolerant amusement. She recognized him as the man called +Tex--the one who had so deftly dropped his loop over the shoulders of +the Mayor, and noted that, in comparison with the other, he presented +rather a sorry appearance. The heels of his boots were slightly run +over. His spurs were of dingy steel and his leather chaps, laced up +the sides with rawhide thongs looked as though they had seen much +service. The scarf at his throat, however, was as vivid as his +companion's and something in the flash of the grey eyes that looked +into hers from beneath the broad brim of the Stetson caused an +inexplicable feeling of discomfort. Their gaze held a suspicion of +veiled mockery, and the clean cut lips twisted at their comers into the +semblance of a cynical, smiling sneer. + +"I want to thank you, too," she smiled, "it wasn't your fault your +friend----" + +"Jack Purdy's my name, mom," interrupted the other, importantly. + +"--that Mr. Purdy beat you, I am sure. And are you always as accurate +as when you lassoed the honourable Mayor of Wolf River?" + +"I always get what I go after--sometimes," answered the man meeting her +gaze with a flash of the baffling grey eyes. A subtle something, in +look or words, seemed a challenge. Instinctively she realized that +despite his rough exterior here was a man infinitely less crude than +the other. An ordinary cowpuncher, to all appearance, and +yet--something in the flash of the eyes, the downward curve of the +corners of the lips aroused the girl's interest. He was speaking again: + +"I'll dance with you, too--if you stay. But I won't mortgage none of +your time in advance." The man's glance shifted deliberately from the +girl to Endicott and back to the girl again. Then, without waiting for +her to reply, he whirled his horse and swung off at top speed to join +the other cowpunchers who were racing in the wake of the Mayor. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +PURDY + +Some moments later, Jack Purdy nosed his horse into the group of +cayuses that stood with reins hanging, "tied to the ground," in front +of the Long Horn Saloon. Beyond the open doors sounded a babel of +voices and he could see the men lined two deep before the bar. + +Swinging from the saddle he threw the stirrup over the seat and became +immediately absorbed in the readjustment of his latigo strap. Close +beside him Tex Benton's horse dozed with drooping head. Swiftly a hand +whose palm concealed an open jack-knife slipped beneath the Texan's +right stirrup-leather and a moment later was withdrawn as the cayuse, +suspicious of the fumbling on the wrong side of the saddle, snorted +nervously and sheered sharply against another horse which with an angry +squeal, a laying back of the ears, and a vicious snap of the teeth, +resented the intrusion. Purdy jerked sharply at the reins of his own +horse which caused that animal to rear back and pull away. + +"Whoa, there! Yeh imp of hell!" he rasped, in tones loud enough to +account for the commotion among the horses, and slipping the knife into +his pocket, entered the saloon from which he emerged unobserved while +the boisterous crowd was refilling its glasses at the solicitation of a +white goods drummer who had been among the first to accept the +invitation of the Mayor. + +Three doors up the street he entered a rival saloon where the bartender +was idly arranging his glasses on the back-bar in anticipation of the +inevitable rush of business which would descend upon him when the +spirit should move the crowd in the Long Horn to start "going the +rounds." + +"Hello, Cinnabar!" The cowpuncher leaned an elbow on the bar, elevated +a foot to the rail, and producing tobacco and a book of brown papers, +proceeded to roll a cigarette. The bartender returned the greeting and +shot the other a keen glance from the corner of his eye as he set out a +bottle and a couple of glasses. + +"Be'n down to the wreck?" he asked, with professional +disinterestedness. The cowpuncher nodded, lighted his cigarette, and +picking the bottle up by the neck, poured a few drops into his glass. +"Pretty bad pile-up," persisted the bartender as he measured out his +own drink. "Two or three of the train crew got busted up pretty bad. +They say---- + +"Aw, choke off! What the hell do I care what they say? Nor how bad +the train crew got busted up, nor how bad they didn't?" Purdy tapped +the bar with his glass as his black eyes fixed the other with a level +stare. "I came over fer a little talk with yeh, private. I'm a-goin' +to win that buckin' contest--an' yer goin' to help me--_sabe_?" + +The bartender shook his head: "I don't know how I c'n help you none." + +"Well yeh will know when I git through--same as Doc Godkins'll know +when I have a little talk with him. Yer both a-goin' to help, you an' +Doc. Yeh see, they was a nester's gal died, a year back, over on +Beaver Crick, an' Doc tended her. 'Tarford fever,' says Doc. But ol' +Lazy Y Freeman paid the freight, an' he thinks about as much of the +nesters as what he does of a rattlesnake. I was ridin' fer the Lazy Y +outfit, an' fer quite a spell 'fore this tarford fever business the ol' +man use to ride the barb wire along Beaver, reg'lar. Yeh know how +loose ol' Lazy Y is with his change? A dollar don't loom no bigger to +him than the side of Sugar Loaf Butte, an' it slips through his fingers +as easy as a porkypine could back out of a gunnysack. Well, that there +dose of tarford fever that the nester gal died of cost ol' Lazy Y jest +a even thousan' bucks. An' Doc Godkins got it." + +The cowpuncher paused and the bartender picked up his glass. "Drink +up," he said, "an' have another. I do'no what yer talkin' about but +it's jest as bad to not have enough red licker in under yer belt when +y' go to make a ride as 'tis to have too much." + +"Never yeh mind about the licker. I c'n reg'late my own drinks to suit +me. Mebbe I got more'n a ride a-comin' to me 'fore tonight's over." + +The bartender eyed him questioningly: "You usta win 'em all--buckin', +an' ropin', an'----" + +"Yes, I usta!" sneered the other. "An' I could now if it wasn't fer +that Texas son of a ----! Fer three years hand runnin' he's drug down +everything he's went into. He c'n out-rope me an' out-ride me, but he +can't out-guess me! An' some day he's goin' to have to out-shoot me. +I'm goin' to win the buckin' contest, an' the ropin', too. See?" The +man's fist pounded the bar. + +The bartender nodded; "Well, here's _to_ you." + +Once more Purdy fixed the man with his black-eyed stare. "Yes. But +they's a heap more a-comin' from you than a 'here's _to_ yeh.'" + +"Meanin'?" asked the other, as he mechanically swabbed the bar. + +"Meanin' that you an' Doc's goin' to help me do it. An' that hain't +all. Tonight 'long 'bout dance time I want that saddle horse o' yourn +an' yer sideways saddle, too. They's a gal o' mine come in on the +train, which she'll be wantin', mebbe, to take a ride, an' hain't +fetched no split-up clothes fer to straddle a real saddle. That +sideways contraption you sent fer 'fore yer gal got to ridin' man-ways +is the only one in Wolf River, an' likewise hern's the only horse +that'll stand fer bein' rigged up in it." + +"Sure. You're welcome to the horse an' saddle, Jack. The outfit's in +the livery barn. Jest tell Ross to have him saddled agin' you want +him. He's gentled down so's a woman c'n handle him all right." + +"Uh, huh. An' how about the other? Y'goin' to do as I say 'bout that, +too?" + +The bartender opened a box behind him and selected a cigar which he +lighted with extreme deliberation. "I told you onct I don't know what +yer talkin' about. Lazy Y Freeman an' Doc Godkins's dirty work ain't +none of my business. If you win, you win, an' that's all there is to +it." + +The cowpuncher laughed shortly, and his black eyes narrowed, as he +leaned closer. "Oh, that's all, is it? Well, Mr. Cinnabar Joe, let me +tell yeh that hain't all--by a damn sight!" He paused, but the other +never took his eyes from his face. "Do yeh know what chloral is?" The +man's voice lowered to a whisper and the words seemed to hiss from +between his lips. The other shook his head. "Well, it's somethin' yeh +slip into a man's licker that puts him to sleep." + +"You mean drug? Dope!" The bartender's eyes narrowed and the corner +of his mouth whitened where it gripped the cigar. + +Purdy nodded: "Yes. It don't hurt no one, only it puts 'em to sleep +fer mebbe it's three er four hours. I'll get some from Doc an' yer +goin' to slip a little into Tex Benton's booze. Then he jest nach'lly +dozes off an' the boys thinks he's spliflicated an' takes him down to +the hotel an' puts him to bed, an' before he wakes up I'll have the +buckin' contest, an' the ropin' contest, an' most of the rest of it in +my war-bag. I hain't afraid of none of the rest of the boys hornin' in +on the money--an' 'tain't the money I want neither; I want to win them +contests particular--an' I'm a-goin' to." + +Without removing his elbows from the bar, Cinnabar Joe nodded toward +the door: "You git to hell out o' here!" he said, quietly. "I don't +set in no game with you, see? I don't want none o' your chips. Of all +the God-damned low-lived----" + +"If I was you," broke in the cowpuncher with a meaning look, "I'd choke +off 'fore I'd got in too fer to back out." Something in the glint of +the black eyes caused the bartender to pause. Purdy laughed, tossed +the butt of his cigarette to the floor, and began irrelevantly: "It's +hell--jest hell with the knots an' bark left on--that Nevada wild horse +range is." The cowpuncher noted that Cinnabar Joe ceased suddenly to +puff his cigar. "It's about seven year, mebbe it's eight," he +continued, "that an outfit got the idee that mebbe Pete Barnum had the +wild horse business to hisself long enough. Four of 'em was pretty +rough hands, an' the Kid was headed that way. + +"Them that was there knows a heap more'n what I do about what they went +through 'fore they got out o' the desert where water-holes was about as +common as good Injuns. Anyways, this outfit didn't git no wild horses. +They was good an' damn glad to git out with what horses they'd took in, +an' a whole hide. They'd blow'd in all they had on their projec' an' +they was broke when they headed fer Idaho." The bartender's cigar had +gone out and the cowpuncher saw that his face was a shade paler. "Then +a train stopped sudden one evenin' where they wasn't no station, an' +after that the outfit busted up. But they wasn't broke no more, all +but the Kid. They left him shift fer hisself. Couple o' years later +two of the outfit drifted together in Cinnabar an' there they found the +Kid drivin' a dude-wagon. Drivin' a dude-wagon through the park is a +damn sight easier than huntin' wild horses, an' a damn sight safer than +railroadin' with a Colt, so when the two hard hands stops the Kid's +dude-wagon in the park, thinkin' they'd have a cinch goin' through the +Kid's passengers, they got fooled good an' proper when the Kid pumps +'em full of .45 pills. After that the Kid come to be know'd as +Cinnabar Joe, an' when the last of the dude-wagons was throw'd out fer +automobiles the Kid drifted up into the cow country. But they's a +certain express company that's still huntin' fer the gang--not knowin' +o' course that the Cinnabar Joe that got notorious fer defendin' his +dudes was one of 'em.'" + +The cowpuncher ceased speaking and produced his "makings" while the +other stood gazing straight before him, the dead cigar still gripped in +the corner of his mouth. The scratch of the match roused him and quick +as a flash he reached beneath the bar and the next instant had Purdy +covered with a six-shooter. With his finger on the trigger Cinnabar +Joe hesitated, and in that instant he learned that the man that faced +him across the bar was as brave as he was unscrupulous. The fingers +that twisted the little cylinder of paper never faltered and the black +eyes looked straight into the muzzle of the gun. + +Now, in the cow country the drawing of a gun is one and the same +movement with the firing of it, and why Cinnabar Joe hesitated he did +not know. + +Purdy laughed: "Put her down, Cinnabar. Yeh won't shoot, now. Yeh +see, I kind of figgered yeh might be sort o' riled up, so I left my gun +in my slicker. Shootin' a unarmed man don't git yeh nothin' but a +chanct to stretch a rope." + +The bartender returned the gun to its place. "Where'd you git that +dope, Jack?" he asked, in a dull voice. + +"Well, seein' as yeh hain't so blood-thirsty no more, I'll tell yeh. I +swung down into the bad lands couple weeks ago huntin' a bunch of mares +that strayed off the south slope. I was follerin' down a mud-crack +that opens into Big Dry when all to onct my horse jumps sideways an' +like to got me. The reason fer which was a feller layin' on the ground +where his horse had busted him agin' a rock. His back was broke an' he +was mumblin'; which he must of laid there a day, mebbe two, cause his +tongue an' lips was dried up till I couldn't hardly make out what he +was sayin'. I catched here an' there a word about holdin' up a train +an' he was mumblin' your name now an' agin so I fetched some water from +a hole a mile away an' camped. He et a little bacon later but he was +half crazy with the pain in his back. He'd yell when I walked near him +on the ground, said it jarred him, an' when I tried to move him a +little he fainted plumb away. But he come to agin an' begged me fer to +hand him his Colt that had lit about ten feet away so he could finish +the job. I seen they wasn't no use tryin' to git him nowheres. He was +all in. But his mutterin' had interested me consid'ble. I figgers if +he's a hold-up, chances is he's got a nice fat _cache_ hid away +somewheres, an' seein' he hain't never goin' to need it I might's well +have the handlin' of it as let it rot where it's at. I tells him so +an' agrees that if he tips off his _cache_ to me I'll retaliate by +givin' him the gun. He swears he ain't got no _cache_. He's blow'd +everything he had, his nerve's gone, an' he's headin' fer Wolf River +fer to gouge yeh out of some _dinero_. He claims yeh collected reward +on them two yeh got in the Yellowstone an' what's more the dudes tuk up +a collection of a thousan' bucks an' give it to yeh besides. _You_ was +his _cache_. So he handed me the dope I just sprung on yeh, an' he +says besides that you an' him's the only ones left. The other one got +his'n down in Mexico where he'd throw'd in with some Greaser bandits." + +"An' what---- Did you give him the gun?" asked the bartender. + +Purdy nodded: "Sure. He' done a good job, too. He was game, all +right, never whimpered nor hung back on the halter. Jest stuck the gun +in his mouth an' pulled the trigger. I was goin' to bury him but I +heard them mares whinner down to the water-hole so I left him fer the +buzzards an' the coyotes. + +"About that there chloral. I'll slip over an' git it from Doc. An' +say, I'm doin' the right thing by yeh. I could horn yeh fer a chunk o' +that reward money, but I won't do a friend that way. An' more'n that," +he paused and leaned closer. "I'll let you in on somethin' worth while +one of these days. That there thousan' that ol' Lazy Y paid Doc hain't +a patchin' to what he's goin' to fork over to me. See?" + +Cinnabar Joe nodded, slowly, as he mouthed his dead cigar, and when he +spoke it was more to himself than to Purdy. "I've played a square game +ever since that time back on the edge of the desert. I don't want to +have to do time fer that. It wouldn't be a square deal nohow, I was +only a Kid then an' never got a cent of the money. Then, there's +Jennie over to the hotel. We'd about decided that bartendin' an' +hash-slingin' wasn't gittin' us nowheres an' we was goin' to hitch up +an' turn nesters on a little yak outfit I've bought over on Eagle." He +stopped abruptly and looked the cowpuncher squarely in the eye. "If it +wasn't fer her, by God! I'd tell you jest as I did before, to git to +hell out of here an' do your damnedest. But it would bust her all up +if I had to do time fer a hold-up. You've got me where you want me, I +guess. But I don't want in on no dirty money from old Lazy Y, nor no +one else. You go it alone--it's your kind of a job. + +"This here chloride, or whatever you call it, you sure it won't kill a +man?" + +Purdy laughed: "Course it won't. It'll only put him to sleep till I've +had a chanct to win out. I'll git the stuff from Doc an' find out how +much is a dost, an' you kin' slip it in his booze." + +As the cowpuncher disappeared through the door, Cinnabar Joe's eyes +narrowed. "You damn skunk!" he muttered, biting viciously upon the +stump of his cigar. "If you was drinkin' anything I'd switch glasses +on _you_, an' then shoot it out with you when you come to. From now on +it's you or me. You've got your hooks into me an' this is only the +beginnin'." The man stopped abruptly and stared for a long time at the +stove-pipe hole in the opposite wall. Then, turning, he studied his +reflection in the mirror behind the bottles and glasses. He tossed +away his cigar, straightened his necktie, and surveyed himself from a +new angle. + +"This here Tex, now," he mused. "He sure is a rantankerous cuss when +he's lickered up. He'd jest as soon ride his horse through that door +as he would to walk through, an' he's always puttin' somethin' over on +someone. But he's a man. He'd go through hell an' high water fer a +friend. He was the only one of the whole outfit had the guts to tend +Jimmy Trimble when he got the spotted fever--nursed him back to good as +ever, too, after the Doc had him billed through fer yonder." Cinnabar +Joe turned and brought his fist down on the bar. "I'll do it!" he +gritted. "Purdy'll think Tex switched the drinks on me. Only I hope +he wasn't lyin' about that there stuff. Anyways, even if he was, it's +one of them things a man's got to do. An' I'll rest a whole lot easier +in my six by two than what I would if I give Tex the long good-bye +first." Unconsciously, the man began to croon the dismal wail of the +plains: + + + "O bury me not on the lone praire-e-e + In a narrow grave six foot by three, + Where the buzzard waits and the wind blows free, + Then bury me not on the lone praire-e-e. + + Yes, we buried him there on the lone praire-e-e + Where the owl all night hoots mournfulle-e-e + And the blizzard beats and the wind blows free + O'er his lonely grave on the lone praire-e-e. + + And the cowboys now as they roam the plain"---- + + +"Hey, choke off on that!" growled Purdy as he advanced with rattling +spurs. "Puts me in mind of _him_--back there in Big Dry. 'Spose I ort +to buried him, but it don't make no difference, now." He passed a +small phial across the bar. "Fifteen or twenty drops," he said +laconically, and laughed. "Nothin' like keepin' yer eyes an' ears +open. Doc kicked like a steer first, but he seen I had his hide hung +on the fence onless he loosened up. But he sure wouldn't weep none at +my demise. If ever I git sick I'll have some other Doc. I'd as soon +send fer a rattlesnake." The man glanced at the clock. "It's workin' +'long to'ards noon, I'll jest slip down to the Long Horn an' stampede +the bunch over here." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +CINNABAR JOE + +In the dining car of the side-tracked train Alice Marcum's glance +strayed from the face of her table companion to the window. Another +cavalcade of riders had swept into town and with a chorus of wild yells +the crowd in the Long Horn surged out to greet them. A moment later +the dismounted ones rushed to their horses, leaped into the saddles +and, joined by the newcomers, dashed at top speed for perhaps thirty +yards and dismounted to crowd into another saloon across whose front +the word HEADQUARTERS was emblazoned in letters of flaming red. + +"They're just like a lot of boys," exclaimed the girl with a smile, +"The idea of anybody mounting a horse to ride _that_ distance!" + +"They're a rough lot, I guess." Winthrop Adams Endicott studied his +menu card. + +"Rough! Of course they're rough! Why shouldn't they be rough? Think +of the work they do--rain or shine, riding out there on the plains. +When they get to town they've earned the right to play as they want to +play! I'd be rough, too, if I lived the life they live. And if I were +a man I'd be right over there with them this minute." + +"Why be a man?" smiled Endicott. "You have the Mayor's own word for +the breadth of Wolf River's ideas. As for myself, I don't drink and +wouldn't enjoy that sort of thing. Besides, if I were over there I +would have to forgo----" + +"No pretty little speeches, _please_. At least you can spare me that." + +"But, Alice, I mean it, really. And----" + +"Save 'em for the Cincinnati girls. They'll believe 'em. Who do you +think will win this afternoon. Let's bet! I'll bet you a--an umbrella +against a pair of gloves, that my cavalier of the yellow fur trousers +will win the bucking contest, and----" + +"Our train may pull out before the thing is over, and we would never +know who won." + +"Oh, yes we will, because we're going to stay for the finish. Why, I +wouldn't miss this afternoon's fun if forty trains pulled out!" + +"I ought to be in Chicago day after tomorrow," objected the man. + +"I ought to be, too. But I'm not going to be. For Heaven's sake, +Winthrop, for once in your life, do something you oughtn't to do!" + +"All right," laughed the man with a gesture of surrender. "And for the +rope throwing contest I'll pick the other." + +"What other?" The girl's eyes strayed past the little wooden buildings +of the town to the clean-cut rim of the bench. + +"Why the other who rode after your handkerchief. The fellow who +lassoed the honourable Mayor and was guilty of springing the pun." + +The girl nodded with her eyes still on the skyline. "Oh, yes. He +seemed--somehow--different. As if people amused him. As if everything +were a joke and he were the only one who knew it was a joke. I could +_hate_ a man like that. The other, Mr. Purdy, hates him." + +The man regarded her with an amused smile: "You keep a sort of mental +card index. I should like to have just a peep at my card." + +"Cards sometimes have to be rewritten--and sometimes it really isn't +worth while to fill them out again. Come on, let's go. People are +beginning to gather for the fun and I want a good seat. There's a +lumber pile over there that'll be just the place, if we hurry." + +In the Headquarters saloon Tex Benton leaned against the end of the bar +and listened to a Bear Paw Pool man relate how they took in a bunch of +pilgrims with a badger game down in Glasgow. Little knots of +cowpunchers stood about drinking at the bar or discussing the coming +celebration. + +"They've got a bunch of bad ones down in the corral," someone said. +"That ol' roman nose, an' the wall-eyed pinto, besides a lot of snorty +lookin' young broncs. I tell yeh if Tex draws either one of them ol' +outlaws it hain't no cinch he'll grab off this ride. The _hombre_ that +throws his kak on one of them is a-goin' to do a little sky-ballin' +'fore he hits the dirt, you bet. But jest the same I'm here to bet ten +to eight on him before the drawin'." + +Purdy who had joined the next group turned at the words. + +"I'll jest take that," he snapped. "Because Tex has drug down the last +two buckin' contests hain't no sign he c'n go south with 'em all." At +the end of the bar Tex grinned as he saw Purdy produce a roll of bills. + +"An', by gosh!" the Bear Paw Pool man was saying, "when they'd all got +their money down an' the bull dog was a-clawin' the floor to git at the +badger, an' the pilgrims was crowded around with their eyes a-bungin' +out of their heads, ol' Two Dot Wilson, he shoves the barrel over an' +they wasn't a doggone thing in under it but a----" + +"What yeh goin' to have, youse?" Purdy had caught sight of Tex who +stood between the Bear Paw Pool man and Bat Lajune. "I'm bettin' agin' +yeh winnin' the buckin' contest, but I'll buy yeh a drink." + +Tex grinned as his eyes travelled with slow insolence over the other's +outfit. + +"You're sure got up some colourful, Jack," he drawled. "If you sh'd +happen to crawl up into the middle of one of them real outlaws they got +down in the corral, an' quit him on the top end of a high one, you're +a-goin' to look like a rainbow before you git back." + +The other scowled: "I guess if I tie onto one of them outlaws yeh'll +see me climb off 'bout the time the money's ready. Yeh Texas fellers +comes up here an' makes yer brag about showin' us Montana boys how to +ride our own horses. But it's real money talks! I don't notice you +backin' up yer brag with no real _dinero_." + +Tex was still smiling. "That's because I ain't found anyone damn fool +enough to bet agin' me." + +"Didn't I jest tell yeh I was bettin' agin' you?" + +"Don't bet enough to hurt you none. How much you got, three dollars? +An' how much odds you got to get before you'll risk 'em?" + +Purdy reached for his hip pocket. "Jest to show yeh what I think of +yer ridin' I'll bet yeh even yeh don't win." + +"Well," drawled the Texan, "seein' as they won't be only about ten +fellows ride, that makes the odds somewhere around ten to one, which is +about right. How much you want to bet?" + +With his fingers clutching his roll of bills, Purdy's eyes sought the +face of Cinnabar Joe. For an instant he hesitated and then slammed the +roll onto the bar. + +"She goes as she lays. Count it!" + +The bartender picked up the money and ran it through. "Eighty-five," +he announced, laconically. + +"That's more'n I got on me," said Tex ruefully, as he smoothed out +three or four crumpled bills and capped the pile with a gold piece. + +Purdy sneered: "It's money talks," he repeated truculently. "'Tain't +hardly worth while foolin' with no piker bets but if that's the best +yeh c'n do I'll drag down to it." He reached for his roll. + +"Hold on!" The Texan was still smiling but there was a hard note in his +voice. "She goes as she lays." He turned to the half-breed who stood +close at his elbow. + +"Bat. D'you recollect one night back in Las Vegas them four bits I +loant you? Well, just you shell out about forty dollars interest on +them four bits an' we'll call it square for a while." The half-breed +smiled broadly and handed over his roll. + +"Forty-five, fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty--" counted Tex, and with a +five-dollar bill between his thumb and forefinger, eyed Purdy +condescendingly: "I'm a-goin' to let you drag down that five if you +want to," he said, "'cause you've sure kissed good-bye to the rest of +it. They ain't any of your doggoned Montana school-ma'm-cayuses but +what I c'n ride slick-heeled, an' with my spurs on--" he paused; +"better drag down the five. You might need a little loose change if +that girl should happen to get thirsty between dances." + +"Jest leave it lay," retorted Purdy; "an' at that, I'll bet I buy her +more drinks than what you do." + +Tex laughed: "Sure. But there ain't nothin' in buyin' 'em drinks. +I've bought 'em drinks all night an' then some other _hombre_'d step in +an'----" + +"I'd bet yeh on _that_, too. I didn't notice her fallin' no hell of a +ways fer you." + +"Mebbe not. I wasn't noticin' her much. I was kind of studyin' the +pilgrim that was along with her." + +"What's he got to do with it?" + +"That's what I was tryin' to figger out. But, hey, Cinnabar, how about +that drink? I'm dry as a post-hole." + +"Fill 'em up, Cinnabar. I'm makin' this noise," seconded Purdy. And +as the Texan turned to greet an acquaintance, he caught out of the tail +of his eye the glance that flashed between Purdy and the bartender. +Noticed, also out of the tail of his eye, that, contrary to custom, +Cinnabar filled the glasses himself and that a few drops of colourless +liquid splashed from the man's palm into the liquor that was shoved +toward him. The Texan knew that Purdy had watched the operation +interestedly and that he straightened with an audible sigh of relief at +its conclusion. "Come on, drink up!" Purdy raised his glass as Tex +faced the bar with narrowed eyes. + +"What's them fellows up to?" cried Cinnabar Joe, and as Purdy turned, +glass in hand, to follow his glance Tex saw the bartender swiftly +substitute his own glass for the one into which he had dropped the +liquid. + +The next instant Purdy was again facing him. "What fellers?" he asked +sharply. + +Cinnabar Joe laughed: "Oh, that Bear Paw Pool bunch. Fellow's got to +keep his eye peeled whenever they git their heads together. Here's +luck." + +For only an instant did Tex hesitate while his brain worked rapidly. +"There's somethin' bein' pulled off here," he reasoned, "that I ain't +next to. If that booze was doped why did Cinnabar drink it? Anyways, +he pulled that stall on Purdy fer some reason an' it's up to me to see +him through with it. But if I do git doped it won't kill me an' when I +come alive they's a couple of fellows goin' to have to ride like hell +to keep ahead of me." + +He drank the liquor and as he returned the glass to the bar he noted +the glance of satisfaction that flashed into Purdy's eyes. + +"Come on, boys, let's git things a-goin'!" Mayor Maloney stood in the +doorway and beamed good humouredly: "'Tain't every cowtown's got a bank +an' us Wolf Riverites has got to do ourself proud. Every rancher an' +nester in forty mile around has drove in. The flat's rimmed with +wagons an' them train folks is cocked up on the lumber piles +a-chickerin' like a prairie-dog town. We'll pull off the racin' an' +trick ridin' an' shootin' first an' save the ropin' an' buckin' +contests to finish off on. Come on, you've all had enough to drink. +Jump on your horses an' ride out on the flat like hell was tore loose +fer recess. Then when I denounce what's a-comin', them that's goin' to +complete goes at it, an' the rest pulls off to one side an' looks on +'til their turn comes." + +A six-shooter roared and a bullet crashed into the ceiling. + +"Git out of the way we're a-goin' by!" howled someone, and instantly +the chorus drowned the rattle of spurs and the clatter of high-heeled +boots as the men crowded to the door. + + "Cowboys out on a yip ti yi! + Coyotes howl and night birds cry + And we'll be cowboys 'til we die!" + +Out in the street horses snorted and whirled against each other, spurs +rattled, and leather creaked as the men leaped into their saddles. +With a thunder of hoofs, a whirl of white dust, the slapping of quirts +and ropes against horses' flanks, the wicked bark of forty-fives, and a +series of Comanche-like yells the cowboys dashed out onto the flat. +Once more Tex Benton found himself drawn up side by side with Jack +Purdy before the girl, for whose handkerchief they had raced. Both +waved their hats, and Alice smiled as she waved her handkerchief in +return. + +"Looks like I was settin' back with an ace in the hole, so far," +muttered Tex, audibly. + +Purdy scowled: "Ace in the hole's all right _sometimes_. But it's the +lad that trails along with a pair of deuces back to back that comes up +with the chips, cashin' in time." + +Slim Maloney announced a quarter-mile dash and when Purdy lined up with +the starters, Tex quietly eased his horse between two wagons, and, +slipping around behind the lumber-piles, rode back to the Headquarters +Saloon. The place was deserted and in a chair beside a card table, +with his head buried in his arms, sat Cinnabar Joe, asleep. The +cowpuncher crossed the room and shook him roughly by the shoulder: + +"Hey, Joe--wake up!" + +The man rolled uneasily and his eyelids drew heavily apart. He mumbled +incoherently. + +"Wake up, Joe!" The Texan redoubled his efforts but the other relapsed +into a stupor from which it was impossible to rouse him. + +A man hurrying past in the direction of the flats paused for a moment +to peer into the open door. Tex glanced up as he hurried on. + +"Doc!" There was no response and the cowpuncher crossed to the door at +a bound. The street was deserted, and without an instant's hesitation +he dashed into the livery and feed barn next door whose wide aperture +yawned deserted save for the switching of tails and the stamping of +horses' feet in the stalls. The door of the harness room stood +slightly ajar and Tex jerked it open and entered. Harness and saddles +littered the floor and depended from long wooden pegs set into the wall +while upon racks hung sweatpads and saddle blankets of every known kind +and description. Between the floor and the lower edge of the blankets +that occupied a rack at the farther side of the room a pair of black +leather shoes showed. + +"Come on, Doc, let's go get a drink." The shoes remained motionless. +"Gosh! There's a rat over in under them blankets!" A forty-five +hammer was drawn back with a sharp click. The shoes left the floor +simultaneously and the head and shoulders of a man appeared above the +rack. + +"Eh! Was someone calling me?" + +"Yeh, I was speakin' of rats----" + +"My hearing's getting bad. I was fishing around for my saddle blanket. +Those barn dogs never put anything where it belongs." + +"That's right. I said let's go get a drink. C'n you hear that?" Tex +noted that the man's face was white and that he was eyeing him +intently, as he approached through the litter. + +"Just had one, thanks. Was on my way down to the flats to see the fun, +and thought I'd see if my blanket had dried out all right." + +"Yes? Didn't you hear me when I hollered at you in the saloon a minute +ago?" + +"No. Didn't know any one was in there." + +"You're in a hell of a fix with your eyesight an' hearin' all shot to +pieces, ain't you? But I reckon they're goin' to be the best part of +you if you don't come along with me. Cinnabar Joe's be'n doped." + +"_Cinnabar Joe_!" The doctor's surprise was genuine. + +"Yes. Cinnabar Joe. An' you better get on the job an' bring him to, +or they'll be tossin' dry ones in on top of you about tomorrow. Sold +any drugs that w'd do a man that way, lately?" + +The doctor knitted his brow. "Why let's see. I don't remember----" + +"Your mem'ry ain't no better'n what your eyesight an' hearin' is, is +it? I reckon mebbe a little jolt might get it to workin'." As Tex +talked even on, his fist shot out and landed squarely upon the other's +nose and the doctor found himself stretched at full length among the +saddles and odds and ends of harness. Blood gushed from his nose and +flowed in a broad wet stream across his cheek. He struggled weakly to +his feet and interposed a shaking arm. + +"I didn't do anything to you," he whimpered. + +"No. I'm the one that's doin'. Is your parts workin' better? 'Cause +if they ain't----" + +"What do you want to know? I'll tell you!" The man spoke hurriedly as +he cringed from the doubling fist. + +"I know you sold the dope, 'cause when I told you about Cinnabar you +wasn't none surprised at the dope--but at who'd got it. You sold it to +Jack Purdy an' you knew he aimed to give it to me. What's more, your +eyesight an' hearin' is as good as mine. You seen me an' heard me in +the saloon an' you was scairt an' run an' hid in the harness room. +You're a coward, an' a crook, an' a damn liar! Wolf River don't need +you no more. You're a-comin' along with me an' fix Cinnabar up an' +then you're a-goin' to go down to the depot an' pick you out a train +that don't make no local stops an' climb onto it an' ride 'til you get +where the buffalo grass don't grow. That is, onless Cinnabar should +happen to cash in. If he does----" + +"He won't! He won't! It's only chloral. A little strychnine will fix +him up." + +"Better get busy then. 'Cause if he ain't to in an hour or so you're +a-goin' to flutter on the down end of a tight one. These here +cross-arms on the railroad's telegraph poles is good an' stout an' has +the added advantage of affordin' good observation for all, which if you +use a cottonwood there's always some that can't see good on account of +limbs an' branches bein' in the road----" + +"Come over to the office 'til I get what I need and I'll bring him +around all right!" broke in the doctor and hurried away, with the +cowpuncher close at his heels. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +ON THE FLAT + +As Mayor Maloney had said, every rancher and nester within forty miles +of Wolf River had driven into town for the celebration. Farm wagons, +spring wagons, and automobiles were drawn wheel to wheel upon both +sides of the flat. From the vehicles women and children in holiday +attire applauded the feats of the cowboys with cheers and the waving of +handkerchiefs, while the men stood about in groups and watched with +apparent indifference as they talked of fences and flumes. + +From the top of the lumber piles, and the long low roof of the wool +warehouse, the train passengers entered into the spirit of the fun +gasping in horror at some seemingly miraculous escape from death +beneath the pounding hoofs of the cow-horses, only to cheer themselves +hoarse when they saw that the apparent misadventure had been purposely +staged for their benefit. + +Races were won by noses. Hats, handkerchiefs, and even coins were +snatched from the ground by riders who hung head and shoulder below +their horses' bellies. Mounts were exchanged at full gallop. Playing +cards were pierced by the bullets of riders who dashed past them at +full speed. And men emptied their guns in the space of seconds without +missing a shot. + +In each event the gaudily caparisoned Jack Purdy was at the fore, +either winning or crowding the winner to his supremest effort. And it +was Purdy who furnished the real thrill of the shooting tournament +when, with a six-shooter in each hand, he jumped an empty tomato can +into the air at fifteen paces by sending a bullet into the ground +beneath its base and pierced it with a bullet from each gun before it +returned to earth. + +A half-dozen times he managed to slip over for a few words with Alice +Marcum--a bit of explanation of a coming event, or a comment upon the +fine points of a completed one, until unconsciously the girl's interest +centred upon the dashing figure to an extent that she found herself +following his every movement, straining forward when his supremacy hung +in the balance, keenly disappointed when another wrested the honours +from him, and jubilantly exultant at his victories. So engrossed was +she in fallowing the fortunes of her knight that she failed to notice +the growing disapproval of Endicott, who sat frowning and silent by her +side. Failed, also, to notice that as Purdy's attentions waxed more +obvious she herself became the object of many a glance, and lip to ear +observation from the occupants of the close-drawn vehicles. + +It was while Mayor Maloney was announcing the roping contest and +explaining that the man who "roped, throw'd, an' hog-tied" his steer in +the least number of seconds, would be the winner, that the girl's +thoughts turned to the cowpuncher who earlier in the day had so +skilfully demonstrated his ability with the lariat. + +In vain her eyes sought the faces of the cowboys. She turned to Purdy +who had edged his horse close beside the lumber pile. + +"Where is your friend--the one who raced with you for my handkerchief?" +she asked. "I haven't seen him since you both rode up in that first +wild rush. He hasn't been in any of the contests." + +"No, mom," answered the cowpuncher, in tones of well-simulated regret; +"he's--he's prob'ly over to some saloon. He's a good man some ways, +Tex is. But he can't keep off the booze." + +Kicking his feet from the stirrups the man stood upright in his saddle +and peered over the top of an intervening pile of lumber. "Yes, I +thought so. His horse is over in front of the Headquarters. Him an' +Cinnabar Joe's prob'ly holdin' a booze histin' contest of their own." +Slipping easily into his seat, he unfastened the rope from his saddle, +and began slowly to uncoil it. + +"All ready!" called the Mayor. "_Go git him_!" + +A huge black steer dashed out into the open with a cowboy in full +pursuit, his loop swinging slowly above his head. Down the middle of +the flat they tore, the loop whirling faster as the horseman gained on +his quarry. Suddenly the rope shot out, a cloud of white dust rose +into the air as the cow-horse stopped in his tracks, a moment of +suspense, and the black steer dashed frantically about seeking an +avenue of escape while in his wake trailed the rope like a long thin +snake with its fangs fastened upon the frantic brute's neck. A roar of +laughter went up from the crowd and Purdy turned to the girl. "Made a +bad throw an' got him around the neck," he explained. "When you git +'em that way you got to turn 'em loose or they'll drag you all over the +flat. A nine-hundred-pound horse hain't got no show ag'in a +fifteen-hundred-pound steer with the rope on his neck. An' even if the +horse would hold, the cinch wouldn't, so _he's_ out of it." + +The black steer was rounded up and chased from the arena, and once more +Mayor Maloney, watch in hand, cried "_Go git him_!" + +Another steer dashed out and another cowboy with whirling loop +thundered after him. The rope fell across the animal's shoulders and +the loop swung under. The horse stopped, and the steer, his fore legs +jerked from under him, fell heavily. To make his rope fast to the +saddle-horn and slip to the ground leaving the horse to fight it out +with the captive, was the work of a moment for the cowboy who +approached the struggling animal, short rope in hand. Purdy who was +leaning over his saddle-horn, watching the man's every move, gave a cry +of relief. + +"He's up behind! That'll fix your clock!" Sure enough, the struggling +animal had succeeded in regaining his hind legs and while the horse, +with the cunning of long practice, kept his rope taut, the steer +plunged about to such good purpose that precious seconds passed before +the cowboy succeeded in making his tie-rope fast to a hind foot, +jerking it from under the struggling animal, and securing it to the +opposite fore foot. + +"Three minutes an' forty-three seconds!" announced the Mayor. "Git +ready for the next one. . . . _Go git him_!" + +This time the feat was accomplished in a little over two minutes and +the successful cowboy was greeted with a round of applause. Several +others missed their throws or got into difficulty, and Purdy turned to +the girl: + +"If I got any luck at all I'd ort to grab off this here contest. They +hain't be'n no fancy ropin' done yet. If I c'n hind-leg mine they +won't be nothin' to it." He rode swiftly away and a moment later, to +the Mayor's "_Go git him_!" dashed out after a red and white steer that +plunged down the field with head down and tail lashing the air. Purdy +crowded his quarry closer than had any of the others and with a swift +sweep of his loop enmeshed the two hind legs of the steer. The next +moment the animal was down and the cowpuncher had a hind foot fast in +the tie rope, Several seconds passed as the man fought for a fore +foot--seconds which to the breathlessly watching girl seemed hours. +Suddenly he sprang erect. "One minute an' forty-nine seconds!" +announced the Mayor and the crowd cheered wildly. + +Upon the lumber pile Alice Marcum ceased her handclapping as her eyes +met those of a cowboy who had ridden up unobserved and sat his horse at +almost the exact spot that had, a few moments before, been occupied by +Purdy. She was conscious of a start of surprise. The man sat easily +in his saddle, and his eyes held an amused smile. Once more the girl +found herself resenting the smile that drew down the corner of the thin +lips and managed to convey an amused tolerance or contempt on the part +of its owner toward everything and everyone that came within its radius. + +"If they hain't no one else wants to try their hand," began the Mayor, +when the Texan interrupted him: + +"Reckon I'll take a shot at it if you've got a steer handy." + +"Well, dog my cats! If I hadn't forgot you! Where you be'n at? If +you'd of got here on time you'd of stood a show gittin' one of them +steers that's be'n draw'd. You hain't got no show now 'cause the +onliest one left is a old long-geared roan renegade that's on the +prod----" + +Tex yawned: "Jest you tell 'em to run him in, Slim, an' I'll show you +how we-all bust 'em wide open down in Texas." + +Three or four cowpunchers started for the corral with a whoop and a few +minutes later the men who had been standing about in groups began to +clamber into wagons or seek refuge behind the wheels as the lean roan +steer shot out onto the flat bounding this way and that, the very +embodiment of wild-eyed fury. But before he had gone twenty yards +there was a thunder of hoofs in his wake and a cow-horse, his rider +motionless as a stone image in his saddle, closed up the distance until +he was running almost against the flank of the frenzied renegade. +There was no preliminary whirling of rope. The man rode with his eyes +fixed on the flying hind hoofs while a thin loop swung from his right +hand, extended low and a little back. + +Suddenly--so suddenly that the crowd was still wondering why the man +didn't swing his rope, there was a blur of white dust, a brown streak +as the cow-horse shot across the forefront of the big steer, the thud +of a heavy body on the ground, the glimpse of a man-among the thrashing +hoofs, and then a mighty heaving as the huge steer strained against the +rope that bound his feet, while the cowboy shoved the Stetson to the +back of his head and felt for his tobacco and papers. + +"Gosh sakes!" yelled Mayor Maloney excitedly as he stared at the watch +in his hand. "Fifty-seven seconds! They can't beat that down to +Cheyenne!" + +At the words, a mighty cheer went up from the crowd and everybody was +talking at once. While over beside the big steer the cowboy mounted +his pony and coiling his rope as he rode, joined the group of riders +who lounged in their saddles and grinned their appreciation. + +"Ladies an' gents," began the Mayor, "you have jest witnessed a ropin' +contest the winner of which is Tex Benton to beat who McLaughlin +himself would have to do his da--doggondest! We will now conclood the +afternoon's galaxity of spurious stars, as the circus bills says, with +a buckin' contest which unneedless to say will conclood the afternoon's +celebration of the openin' of a institoot that it's a credit to any +town in reference to which I mean the Wolf River Citizen's Bank in +which we invite to whose vaults a fair share of your patrimony. While +the boys is gittin' ready an' drawin' their horses a couple of gents +will pass amongst you an' give out to one an' all, ladies an' gents +alike, an' no favorytes played, a ticket good fer a free drink in any +saloon in Wolf River on the directors of the bank I have endeavoured to +explain about which. After which they'll be a free feed at the _ho_tel +also on the directors. Owin' to the amount of folks on hand this here +will be pulled off in relays, ladies furst, as they hain't room fer all +to onct, but Hank, here, claims he's got grub enough on hand so all +will git a chanct to shove right out ag'in their belt. An' I might say +right here in doo elegy of our feller townsman that Hank c'n set out as +fillin' an' tasty a meal of vittles as anyone ever cocked a lip over, +barrin', of course, every married man's wife. + +"Draw your horses, boys, an' git a-goin'!" + +Alice Marcum's surprise at Tex Benton's remarkable feat, after what +Purdy had told her, was nothing to the surprise and rage of Purdy +himself who had sat like an image throughout the performance. When the +Mayor began his oration Purdy's eyes flashed rapidly over the crowd and +seeing that neither Cinnabar Joe nor the doctor were present, slipped +his horse around the end of the lumber pile and dashed for the doctor's +office. "That damn Doc'll wisht he hadn't never double-crossed me!" he +growled, as he swung from the saddle before the horse had come to a +stop. The office was empty and the man turned to the Headquarters +saloon. Inside were the two men he sought, and he approached them with +a snarl. + +"What the hell did yeh double-cross me for?" he shouted in a fury. + +The doctor pointed to Cinnabar Joe who, still dazed from the effect of +the drug, leaned upon the table. "I didn't double-cross you. The +wrong man got the dope, that's all." + +Cinnabar Joe regarded Purdy dully. "He switched glasses," he muttered +thickly. + +A swift look of fear flashed into Purdy's eyes. "How'n hell did he +know we fixed his licker?" he cried, for well he realized that if the +Texan had switched glasses he was cognizant of the attempt to dope him. +Moistening his lips with his tongue, the cowpuncher turned abruptly on +his heel. "Guess I'll be gittin' back where they's a lot of folks +around," he muttered as he mounted his horse. "I got to try an' figger +out if he knows it was me got Cinnabar to dope his booze. An' if he +does--" The man's face turned just a shade paler beneath the tan---- +"I got to lay off this here buckin' contest. I hain't got the guts to +tackle it." + +"Have you drawn your horse?" he had reached the lumber pile and the +girl was smiling down at him. He shook his head dolefully. + +"No, mom, I hain't a-goin' to ride. I spraint my shoulder ropin' that +steer an' I just be'n over to see doc an' he says I should keep offen +bad horses fer a spell. It's sure tough luck, too, 'cause I c'd of won +if I c'd of rode. But I s'pose I'd ort to be satisfied, I drug down +most of the other money--all but the ropin', an' I'd of had that if it +hadn't of be'n fer Tex Benton's luck. An' he'll win ag'in, chances +is--if his cinch holds. Here he comes now; him an' that breed. They +hain't never no more'n a rope's len'th apart. Tex must have somethin' +on him the way he dogs him around." + +The girl followed his glance to the Texan who approached accompanied by +Bat Lajune and a cowboy who led from the horn of his saddle a +blaze-faced bay with a roman nose. As the three drew nearer the girl +could see the mocking smile upon his lips as his eyes rested for a +moment on Purdy. "I don't like that man," she said, as though speaking +to herself, "and yet----" + +"Plenty others don't like him, too," growled Purdy. "I'm glad he's +draw'd that roman nose, 'cause he's the out-buckin'est outlaw that ever +grow'd hair--him an' that pinto, yonder, that's hangin' back on the +rope." + +The Texan drew up directly in front of the lumber pile and ignoring +Purdy entirely, raised his Stetson to the girl. The direct cutting of +Purdy had been obviously rude and Alice Marcum felt an increasing +dislike for the man. She returned his greeting with a perfunctory nod +and instantly felt her face grow hot with anger. The Texan was +laughing at her--was regarding her with an amused smile. + +A yell went up from the crowd and out on the flat beyond the Texan, a +horse, head down and back humped like an angry cat, was leaping into +the air and striking the ground stiff-legged in a vain effort to shake +the rider from his back. + +"'Bout as lively as a mud turtle. He'll sulk in a minute," laughed the +Texan, and true to the prophecy, the horse ceased his efforts and stood +with legs wide apart and nose to the ground. + +"Whoopee!" + +"He's a ringtailed woozoo!" + +"Thumb him!" + +"Scratch him!" + +The crowd laughed and advised, and the cowboy thumbed and scratched, +but the broncho's only sign of animation was a vicious switching of the +tail. + +"Next horse!" cried the Mayor, and a horse shot out, leaving the ground +before the rider was in the saddle. Straight across the flat he bucked +with the cowboy whipping higher and higher in the saddle as he tried in +vain to catch his right stirrup. + +"He's a goner!" + +"He's clawin' leather!" + +To save himself a fall the rider had grabbed the horn of the saddle, +and for him the contest was over. + +"Come on, Bat, we'll throw the shell on this old buzzard-head. I'm +number seven an' there's three down!" called the Texan. + +The two swung from the saddles and the roman-nosed outlaw pricked his +ears and set against the rope with fore legs braced. The cowboy who +had him in tow took an extra dally around the saddle horn as the Texan, +hackamore in hand, felt his way inch by inch along the taut lead-rope. +As the man's hand touched his nose the outlaw shuddered and braced back +until only the whites of his eyes showed. Up came the hand and the +rawhide hackamore slipped slowly into place. + +"He's a-goin' to ride with a hackamore!" cried someone as the Texan +busied himself with the knots. Suddenly the lead-rope slackened and +with a snort of fury the outlaw reared and lashed out with both +forefeet. The Texan stepped swiftly aside and as the horse's feet +struck the ground the loaded end of a rawhide quirt smashed against his +jaw. + +Bat Lajune removed the saddle from the Texan's horse and stepped +forward with the thick felt pad which Tex, with a hand in the +cheek-strap of the hackamore, brushed along the outlaw's sides a few +times and then deftly threw over the animal's back. The horse, braced +against the rope, stood trembling in every muscle while Bat brought +forward the saddle with the right stirrup-leather and cinch thrown back +over the seat. As he was about to hand it to the Texan he stopped +suddenly and examined the cinch. Then without a word carried it back, +unsaddled his own horse, and taking the cinch from his saddle exchanged +it for the other. + +"Just as easy to switch cinches as it is drinks, ain't it, Bat?" +grinned Tex. + +"Ba Goss! Heem look lak' Circle J boun' for be wan man short," replied +the half-breed, and the girl, upon whom not a word nor a move had been +lost, noticed that Purdy's jaw tightened as the Texan laughed at the +apparently irrelevant remark. + +The outlaw shuddered as the heavy saddle was thrown upon his back and +the cinch ring deftly caught with a loop of rope and made fast. + +Out on the flat number four, on the pinto outlaw, had hit the dirt, +number five had ridden through on a dead one, and number six had quit +his in mid-air. + +"Next horse--number seven!" called the Mayor. The cowboy who had the +broncho in tow headed out on the flat prepared to throw off his dallies +and two others, including Purdy, rode forward quirt in hand, to haze +the hate-blinded outlaw from crashing into the wagons. With his hand +gripping the cheek-strap, Tex turned and looked straight into Purdy's +eyes. + +"Go crawl under a wagon an' chaw a bone," he said in a low even voice, +"I'll whistle when I want _you_." For an instant the men's glances +locked, while the onlookers held their breath. Purdy was not a +physical coward. The insult was direct, uttered distinctly, and in the +hearing of a crowd. At his hip was the six-gun with which he had just +won a shooting contest--yet he did not draw. The silence was becoming +painful when the man shrugged, and without a word, turned his horse +away. Someone laughed, and the tension broke with a hum of low-voiced +conversation. + +"Next horse, ready!" + +As the crowd drew back Alice Marcum leaned close to Purdy's ear. + +"I think it was splendid!" she whispered; "it was the bravest thing I +ever saw." The man could scarcely believe his ears. + +"Is she kiddin' me?" he wondered, as he forced his glance to the girl's +face. But no, she was in earnest, and in her eyes the man read +undisguised admiration. She was speaking again. + +"Any one of these," she indicated the crowd with a sweep of her gloved +hand, "would have shot him, but it takes a real man to preserve perfect +self-control under insult." + +The cowpuncher drew a long breath. "Yes; mom," he answered; "it was +pretty tough to swaller that. But somehow I kind of--of hated to shoot +him." Inwardly he was puzzled. What did the girl mean? He realized +that she was in earnest and that he had suddenly become a hero in her +eyes. Fate was playing strangely into his hands. A glitter of triumph +flashed into his eyes, a glitter that faded into a look of wistfulness +as they raised once more to hers. + +"Would you go to the dance with me tonight, mom? These others--they +don't git me right. They'll think I didn't dast to shoot it out with +him." + +The girl hesitated, and the cowpuncher continued. "The transfer +train's pulled out an' the trussle won't be fixed 'til mornin', you +might's well take in the dance." + +Beside her Endicott moved uneasily. "Certainly not!" he exclaimed +curtly as his eyes met Purdy's. And then, to the girl, "If you are +bound to attend that performance you can go with me." + +"Oh, I can go with you, can I?" asked the girl sweetly. "Well thank +you so much, Winthrop, but really you will have to excuse me. Mr. +Purdy asked me first." There was a sudden flash of daring in her eyes +as she turned to the cowpuncher. "I shall be very glad to go," she +said; "will you call for me at the car?" + +"I sure will," he answered, and turned his eyes toward the flats. This +was to be _his_ night, his last on the Wolf River range, he realized +savagely. In the morning he must ride very far away. For before the +eyes of all Wolf River he had swallowed an insult. And the man knew +that Wolf River knew why he did not shoot. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE RIM OF THE BENCH + +Out on the flat the Texan was riding "straight up" amid a whirl of +white dust. + +"Fan him, Tex!" + +"Stay with him!" + +The cries of the cowboys cut high above the chorus of yelling applause +as the furious outlaw tried every known trick to unseat the rider. +High in the air he bucked, swapping ends like a flash, and landing with +all four feet "on a dollar," his legs stiff as jack-pine posts. The +Texan rode with one hand gripping the hackamore rope and the other his +quirt which stung and bit into the frenzied animal's shoulders each +time he hit the ground. In a perfect storm of fury the horse plunged, +twisted, sunfished, and bucked to free himself of the rider who swayed +easily in the saddle and raked him flank and sides with his huge +rowelled spurs. + +"Stay a long time!" + +"Scratch him, Tex!" yelled the delighted cowpunchers. + +Suddenly the yells of appreciation gave place to gasps even from the +initiated, as the rage-crazed animal leaped high into the air and +throwing himself backward, crashed to the ground squarely upon his +back. As the dust cloud lifted the Texan stood beside him, one foot +still in the stirrup, slashing right and left across the struggling +brute's ears with his braided quirt. The outlaw leaped to his feet +with the cowboy in the saddle and the crowd went wild. Then with the +enthusiasm at its height, the man jerked at his hackamore knot, and the +next moment the horse's head was free and the rider rode "on his +balance" without the sustaining grip on the hackamore rope to hold him +firm in his saddle. The sudden loosening of the rawhide thongs gave +the outlaw new life. He sunk his head and redoubled his efforts, as +with quirt in one hand and hackamore in the other the cowboy lashed his +shoulders while his spurs raked the animal to a bloody foam. Slower +and slower the outlaw fought, pausing now and then to scream shrilly as +with bared teeth and blazing eyes he turned this way and that, sucking +the air in great blasts through his blood-dripping nostrils. + +At last he was done. Conquered. For a moment he stood trembling in +every muscle, and as he sank slowly to his knees, the Texan stepped +smiling from the saddle. + +"Sometime, Slim," he grinned as he reached for his tobacco and papers, +"if you-all can get holt of a horse that ain't plumb gentle, I'll show +you a real ride." + +All about was the confusion attendant to the breaking-up of the crowd. +Men yelled at horses as they hitched them to the wagons. Pedestrians, +hurrying with their tickets toward the saloons, dodged from under the +feet of cowboys' horses, and the flat became a tangle of wagons with +shouting drivers. + +Alice Marcum stood upon the edge of the lumber-pile with the wind +whipping her skirts about her silk stockings as the Texan, saddle over +his arm, glanced up and waved, a gauntleted hand. The girl returned +the greeting with a cold-eyed stare and once more found herself growing +furiously angry. For the man's lips twisted into their cynical smile +as his eyes rested for a moment upon her own, shifted, lingered with +undisguised approval upon her silk stockings, and with devilish +boldness, returned to her own again. Suddenly his words flashed +through her brain. "I always get what I go after--sometimes." She +recalled the consummate skill with which he had conquered the renegade +steer and the outlaw broncho--mastered them completely, and yet always +in an off-hand manner as though the thing amused him. Never for a +moment had he seemed to exert himself--never to be conscious of effort. +Despite herself the girl shuddered nervously, and ignoring Endicott's +proffer of assistance, scrambled to the ground and hastened toward her +coach. + +A young lady who possessed in a high degree a very wholesome love of +adventure, Alice Marcum coupled with it a very unwholesome habit of +acting on impulse. As unamenable to reason as she was impervious to +argument, those who would remonstrate with her invariably found +themselves worsted by the simple and easy process of turning their +weapons of attack into barriers of defence. Thus when, an hour later, +Winthrop Adams Endicott found her seated alone at a little table in the +dining-car he was agreeably surprised when she greeted him with a smile +and motioned him into the chair opposite. + +"For goodness' sake, Winthrop, sit down and talk to me. There's +nothing so stupid as dining alone--and especially when you want to talk +to somebody." As Endicott seated himself, she rattled on: "I wanted to +go to that preposterous supper they are going to 'dish up' at the +hotel, but when I found they were going to separate the 'ladies and +gents' and feed them in relays, I somehow lost the urge. The men, most +of them, are interesting--but the women are deadly. I know just what +it would be--caught snatches of it from the wagons during the +lulls--preserves, and babies, and what Harry's ma died of. The men +carry an atmosphere of unrestraint--of freshness----" + +Endicott interrupted her with a nod: "Yes," he observed, dryly, "I +believe that is the term----" + +"Don't be guilty of a pun, Winthrop. At least, not a slangy one. It's +quite unsuited to your style of beauty. But, really, wasn't it all +delightful? Did you ever see such riding, and shooting, and lassoing?" + +"No. But I have never lived in a country where it is done. I have +always understood that cowboys were proficient along those lines, but +why shouldn't they be? It's their business----" + +"There you go--reducing everything to terms of business! Can't you see +the romance of it--what it stands for? The wild free life of the +plains, the daily battling with the elements, and the mastery of nerve +and skill over blind brute force and fury! I love it! And tonight I'm +going to a real cowboy dance." + +"Alice!" The word carried a note of grave disapproval. "Surely you +were not serious about attending that orgy!" + +The girl stared at him in surprise. "Serious! Of course I'm serious! +When will I ever get another chance to attend a cowboy dance--and with +a real cowboy, too?" + +"The whole thing is preposterous! Perfectly absurd! If you are bound +to attend that affair I will take you there, and we can look on and----" + +"I don't want to look on. I want to dance--to be in it all. It will +be an experience I'll never forget." + +The man nodded: "And one you may never cease to regret. What do you +know of that man? Of his character; of his antecedents? He may be the +veriest desperado for all you know." + +The girl clapped her hands in mock delight: "Oh, wouldn't that be +grand! I hadn't thought of that. To attend a dance with just a plain +cowboy doesn't fall to every girl's lot, but one who is a cowboy and a +desperado, too!" She rolled her eyes to express the seventh heavendom +of delight. + +Endicott ignored the mockery. "I am sure neither your mother nor your +father----" + +"No, neither of them would approve, of course. But really, Winthrop, +I'm way past the short petticoat stage--though the way they're making +them now nobody would guess it. I know it's improper and +unconventional and that it isn't done east of the Mississippi nor west +of the Rocky Mountains. But when in Rome do as the roamers do, as +someone has said. And as for Mr. Purdy," she paused and looked +Endicott squarely in the eyes. "Do you know why he didn't shoot that +disgusting Tex when he insulted him?" + +Endicott nodded. "Yes," he answered. "Because he was afraid to." + +Colour suffused the girl's face and she arose abruptly from the table. +"At least," she said haughtily, "you and Wolf River are thoroughly in +accord on _that_ point." + +As the man watched her disappear through the doorway he became aware +that the fat woman who had sought refuge under the coach was staring at +him through her lorgnette from her seat across the aisle. + +"Young man, I believe you insulted that girl!" she wheezed indignantly. + +"You should be a detective, madam. Not even a great one could be +farther from the truth," he replied dryly, and rising, passed into the +smoking compartment of his Pullman where he consumed innumerable +cigarettes as he stared out into the gathering night. + +Seated in her own section of the same Pullman, Alice Marcum sat and +watched the twilight deepen and the lights of the little town twinkle +one by one from the windows. Alone in the darkening coach the girl was +not nearly so sure she was going to enjoy her forthcoming adventure. +Loud shouts, accompanied by hilarious laughter and an occasional pistol +shot, floated across the flat. She pressed her lips tighter and +heartily wished that she had declined Purdy's invitation. It was not +too late, yet. She could plead a headache, or a slight indisposition. +She knew perfectly well that Endicott had been right and she wrong but, +with the thought, the very feminine perversity of her strengthened her +determination to see the adventure through. + +"Men are such fools!" she muttered angrily. "I'll only stay a little +while, of course, but I'm going to that dance if it is the last thing I +ever do--just to show him that--that--" her words trailed into silence +without expressing just what it was she intended to show him. + +As the minutes passed the girl's eyes glowed with a spark of hope. +"Maybe," she muttered, "maybe Mr. Purdy has forgotten, or--" the +sentence broke off shortly. Across the flat a rider was approaching +and beside him trotted a lead-horse upon whose back was an empty +saddle. For just an instant she hesitated, then rose from her seat and +walked boldly to the door of the coach. + +"Good evenin', mom," the cowboy smiled as he dismounted to assist her +from the steps of the coach. + +"Good evening," returned the girl. "But, you needn't to have gone to +the trouble of bringing a horse just to ride that little way." + +"'Twasn't no trouble, mom, an' he's woman broke. I figured yeh +wouldn't have no ridin' outfit along so I loant a sideways saddle offen +a friend of mine which his gal usta use before she learnt to ride +straddle. The horse is hern, too, an' gentle as a dog. Here I'll give +yeh a h'ist." The lead-horse nickered softly, and reaching up, the +girl stroked his velvet nose. + +"He's woman broke," repeated the cowboy, and as Alice looked up her +eyes strayed past him to the window of the coach where they met +Endicott's steady gaze. + +The next moment Purdy was lifting her into the saddle, and without a +backward glance the two rode out across the flat. + +The girl was a devoted horsewoman and with the feel of the horse under +her, her spirits revived and she drew in a long breath of the fragrant +night. There was a living tang to the air, soft with the balm of June, +and as they rode side by side the cowboy pointed toward the east where +the sharp edge of the bench cut the rim of the rising moon. Alice +gasped at the beauty of it. The horses stopped and the two watched in +silence until the great red disc rose clear of the clean-cut sky-line. + +About the wreck torches flared and the night was torn by the clang and +rattle of gears as the great crane swung a boxcar to the side. The +single street was filled with people--women and men from the wagons, +and cowboys who dashed past on their horses or clumped along the wooden +sidewalk with a musical jangle of spurs. + +The dance-hall was a blaze of light toward which the people flocked +like moths to a candle flame. As they pushed the horses past, the girl +glanced in. Framed in the doorway stood a man whose eyes met hers +squarely--eyes that, in the lamplight seemed to smile cynically as they +strayed past her and rested for a moment upon her companion, even as +the thin lips were drawn downward at their corners in a sardonic grin. + +Unconsciously she brought her quirt down sharply, and her horse, glad +of the chance to stretch his legs after several days in the stall, +bounded forward and taking the bit in his teeth shot past the little +cluster of stores and saloons, past the straggling row of houses and +headed out on the trail that wound in and out among the cottonwood +clumps of the valley. At first, the girl tried vainly to check the +pace, but as the animal settled to a steady run a spirit of wild +exhilaration took possession of her--the feel of the horse bounding +beneath her, the muffled thud of his hoofs in the soft sand of the +trail, the alternating patches of moonlight and shadow, and the keen +tang of the night air--all seemed calling her, urging her on. + +At the point where the trail rose abruptly in its ascent to the bench, +the horse slackened his pace and she brought him to a stand, and for +the first time since she left the town, realized she was not alone. +The realization gave her a momentary start, as Purdy reined in close +beside her; but a glance into the man's face reassured her. + +"Oh, isn't it just grand! I feel as if I could ride on, and on, and +on." + +The man nodded and pointed upward where the surface of the bench cut +the sky-line sharply. + +"Yes, mom," he answered respectfully. "If yeh'd admire to, we c'n +foller the trail to the top an' ride a ways along the rim of the bench. +If you like scenes, that ort to be worth while lookin' at. The dance +won't git a-goin' good fer an hour yet 'til the folks gits het up to +it." + +For a moment Alice hesitated. The romance of the night was upon her. +Every nerve tingled, with the feel of the wild. Her glance wandered +from the rim of the bench to the cowboy, a picturesque figure as he sat +easily in his saddle, a figure toned by the soft touch of the moonlight +to an intrinsic symbolism of vast open spaces. + +Something warned her to go back, but--what harm could there be in just +riding to the top? Only for a moment--a moment in which she could +feast her eyes upon the widespread panorama of moonlit wonder--and +then, they would be in the little town again before the dance was in +full swing. In her mind's eye she saw Endicott's disapproving frown, +and with a tightening of the lips she started her horse up the hill and +the cowboy drew in beside her, the soft brim of his Stetson concealing +the glance of triumph that flashed from his eyes. + +The trail slanted upward through a narrow coulee that reached the bench +level a half-mile back from the valley. As the two came out into the +open the girl once more reined her horse to a standstill. Before her, +far away across the moonlit plain the Bear Paws loomed in mysterious +grandeur. The clean-cut outline of Miles Butte, standing apart from +the main range, might have been an Egyptian pyramid rising abruptly +from the desert. From the very centre of the sea of peaks the +snow-capped summit of Big Baldy towered high above Tiger Ridge, and Saw +Tooth projected its serried crown until it seemed to merge into the +Little Rockies which rose indistinct out of the dim beyond. + +The cowboy turned abruptly from the trail and the two headed their +horses for the valley rim, the animals picking their way through the +patches of prickly pears and clumps of low sage whose fragrant aroma +rose as a delicate incense to the nostrils of the girl. + +Upon the very brink of the valley they halted, and in awed silence +Alice sat drinking in the exquisite beauty of the scene. + +Before her as far as the eye could see spread the broad reach of the +Milk River Valley, its obfusk depths relieved here and there by bright +patches of moonlight, while down the centre, twisting in and out among +the dark clumps of cottonwoods, the river wound like a ribbon of +gleaming silver. At widely scattered intervals the tiny lights of +ranch houses glowed dull yellow in the distance, and almost at her feet +the clustering lights of the town shone from the open windows and doors +of buildings which stood out distinctly in the moonlight, like a +village in miniature. Faint sounds, scarcely audible in the stillness +of the night floated upward--the thin whine of fiddles, a shot now and +then from the pistol of an exuberant cowboy sounding tiny and far away +like the report of a boy's pop-gun. + +The torches of the wrecking crew flickered feebly and the drone of +their hoisting gears scarce broke the spell of the silence. + +Minutes passed as the girl's eyes feasted upon the details of the scene. + +"Oh, isn't it wonderful!" she breathed, and then in swift alarm, +glanced suddenly into the man's face. Unnoticed he had edged his horse +close so that his leg brushed hers in the saddle. The hat brim did not +conceal the eyes now, that stared boldly into her face and in sudden +terror the girl attempted to whirl her horse toward the trail. But the +man's arm shot out and encircled her waist and his hot breath was upon +her cheek. With all the strength of her arm she swung her quirt, but +Purdy held her close; the blow served only to frighten the horses which +leaped apart, and the girl felt herself dragged from the saddle. + + +In the smoking compartment of the Pullman, Endicott finished a +cigarette as he watched the girl ride toward the town in company with +Purdy. + +"She's a--a headstrong _little fool_!" he growled under his breath. He +straightened out his legs and stared gloomily at the brass cuspidor. +"Well, I'm through. I vowed once before I'd never have anything more +to do with her--and yet--" He hurled the cigarette at the cuspidor and +took a turn up and down the cramped quarters of the little room. Then +he stalked to his seat, met the fat lady's outraged stare with an +ungentlemanly scowl, procured his hat, and stamped off across the flat +in the direction of the dance-hall. As he entered the room a feeling +of repugnance came over him. The floor was filled with noisy dancers, +and upon a low platform at the opposite end of the room three +shirt-sleeved, collarless fiddlers sawed away at their instruments, as +they marked time with boots and bodies, pausing at intervals to mop +their sweat-glistening faces, or to swig from a bottle proffered by a +passing dancer. Rows of onlookers of both sexes crowded the walls and +Endicott's glance travelled from face to face in a vain search for the +girl. + +A little apart from the others the Texan leaned against the wall. The +smoke from a limp cigarette which dangled from the corner of his lips +curled upward, and through the haze of it Endicott saw that the man was +smiling unpleasantly. Their eyes met and Endicott turned toward the +door in hope of finding the girl among the crowd that thronged the +street. + +Hardly had he reached the sidewalk when he felt a hand upon his arm, +and turned to stare in surprise into the dark features of a +half-breed,--the same, he remembered, who had helped the Texan to +saddle the outlaw. With a swift motion of the head the man signalled +him to follow, and turned abruptly into the deep shadow of an alley +that led along the side of the livery bam. Something in the +half-breed's manner caused Endicott to obey without hesitation and a +moment later the man turned and faced him. + +"You hont you 'oman?" Endicott nodded impatiently and the half-breed +continued: "She gon' ridin' wit Purdy." He pointed toward the winding +trail. "Mebbe-so you hur' oop, you ketch." Without waiting for a +reply the man slipped the revolver from his holster and pressed it into +the astonished Endicott's hand, and catching him by the sleeve, hurried +him to the rear of the stable where, tied to the fence of the corral, +two horses stood saddled. Loosing one, the man passed him the bridle +reins. "Dat hoss, she damn good hoss. Mebbe-so you ride lak' hell you +com' long in tam'. Dat Purdy, she not t'ink you got de gun, mebbe-so +you git chance to kill um good." As the full significance of the man's +words dawned upon him Endicott leaped into the saddle and, dashing from +the alley, headed at full speed out upon the winding, sandy trail. On +and on he sped, flashing in and out among the clumps of cottonwood. At +the rise of the trail he halted suddenly to peer ahead and listen. A +full minute he stood while in his ears sounded only the low hum of +mosquitoes and the far-off grind of derrick wheels. + +He glanced upward and for a moment his heart stood still. Far above, +on the rim of the bench, silhouetted clearly against the moonlight sky +were two figures on horseback. Even as he looked the figures blended +together--there was a swift commotion, a riderless horse dashed from +view, and the next moment the sky-line showed only the rim of the bench. + +The moon turned blood-red. And with a curse that sounded in his ears +like the snarl of a beast, Winthrop Adams Endicott tightened his grip +upon the revolver and headed the horse up the steep ascent. + +The feel of his horse labouring up the trail held nothing of +exhilaration for Endicott. He had galloped out of Wolf River with the +words of the half-breed ringing in his ears: "Mebbe-so you ride lak' +hell you com' long in tam'!" But, would he "com' long in tam'"? There +had been something of sinister portent in that swift merging together +of the two figures upon the sky-line, and in the flash-like glimpse of +the riderless horse. Frantically he dug his spurless heels into the +labouring sides of his mount. + +"Mebbe-so you kill um good," the man had said at parting, and as +Endicott rode he knew that he would kill, and for him the knowledge +held nothing of repugnance--only a wild fierce joy. He looked at the +revolver in his hand. Never before had the hand held a lethal weapon, +yet no slightest doubt as to his ability to use it entered his brain. +Above him, somewhere upon the plain beyond the bench rim, the woman he +loved was at the mercy of a man whom Endicott instinctively knew would +stop at nothing to gain an end. The thought that the man he intended +to kill was armed and that he was a dead shot never entered his head, +nor did he remember that the woman had mocked and ignored him, and +against his advice had wilfully placed herself in the man's power. She +had harried and exasperated him beyond measure--and yet he loved her. + +The trail grew suddenly lighter. The walls of the coulee flattened +into a wide expanse of open. Mountains loomed in the distance and in +the white moonlight a riderless horse ceased snipping grass, raised his +head, and with ears cocked forward, stared at him. In a fever of +suspense Endicott gazed about him, straining his eyes to penetrate the +half-light, but the plain stretched endlessly away, and upon its +surface was no living, moving thing. + +Suddenly his horse pricked his ears and sniffed. Out of a near-by +depression that did not show in the moonlight another horse appeared. +It, too, was riderless, and the next instant, from the same direction +sounded a low, muffled cry and, leaping from his saddle, he dashed +toward the spot. The sage grew higher in the depression which was the +head of a branch of the coulee by means of which the trail gained the +bench, and as he plunged in, the head and shoulders of a man appeared +above a bush. Endicott was very close when the man pushed something +fiercely from him, and the body of a woman crashed heavily into the +sage. Levelling the gun, he fired. The shot rang loud, and upon the +edge of the depression a horse snorted nervously. The man pitched +forward and lay sprawled grotesquely upon the ground and Endicott saw +that his extended hand grasped a revolver. + +Dully he stared at the thing on the ground at his feet. There was a +movement in the scrub and Alice Marcum stood beside him. He glanced +into her face. And as her eyes strayed from the sprawling figure to +meet his, Endicott read in their depths that which caused his heart to +race madly. She stepped toward him and suddenly both paused to listen. +The girl's face turned chalk-white in the moonlight. From the +direction of the coulee came the sound of horses' hoofs pounding the +trail! + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE ARREST + +Bat Lajune grinned into the dark as the galloping cow-horse carried +Endicott out upon the trail of Purdy and the girl. "A'm t'ink dat wan +good job. Mebbe-so de pilgrim keel Purdy, _bien_! Mebbe-so Purdy keel +de pilgrim, den de sheriff ketch Purdy an' she got for git hang--dat +pret' good, too. Anyhow, Tex, she don' got for bodder 'bout keel Purdy +no mor'. Tex kin keel him all right, but dat Purdy she damn good shot, +too. Mebbe-so she git de drop on Tex. Den afterwards, me--A'm got to +fool 'roun' an' keel Purdy, an' mebbe-so A'm hang for dat, too. Wat de +hell!" + +A man rode up to the corral and tied his horse to the fence. The +half-breed drew into the shadow. "Dat Sam Moore," he muttered. "She +dipity sher'ff, an' she goin' try for git 'lect for de beeg sher'ff dis +fall. Mebbe-so she lak' for git chanct for 'rest som'one. A'm goin' +see 'bout dat." He stepped to the side of the man, who started +nervously and peered into his face. + +"Hello, Bat, what the devil you doin' prowlin' around here? Why hain't +you in dancin'?" + +The half-breed shrugged: "Me, A'm no lak' for dance mooch. She don' do +no good. Anyhow, A'm hont 'roun' for fin' you. A'm t'ink mebbe-so you +better com' 'long wit' me." + +"Come along with you! What's on yer mind?" Suddenly the man +straightened: "Say, look a here, if you're up to helpin' Tex Benton +pull off any gag on me, you've picked the wrong hand, see!" + +The other shook his head vigorously: "_Non_! Tex, she goin' in de +dance-hall. She don' know nuthin' 'bout w'at A'm know." + +"What you drivin' at? Come on, spit 'er out! I hain't a-goin' to fool +'round here all night an' miss the dancin'." + +Bat stepped closer: "Two mans an' wan 'oman gon' up de trail. A'm +t'ink som'one goin' for git keel. Mebbe-so we better gon' up an' see +'bout dat." + +"You're crazy as hell! The trail's free, hain't it? What business I +got hornin' in on 'em? I come to town for to take in the dance, an' +I'm a-goin' to. Besides it's a good chanct to do a little +'lectioneerin'." Once more Bat shrugged, and turning away, began to +untie his horse. + +"Four Ace Johnson, over 'crost de riv', she dipity sher'ff, too. A'm +hear she goin' run for de beeg sher'ff, nex' fall. A'm gon' over an' +see if she no lak' to go 'long an' mak' de arres' if som'ting happen. +Mebbe-so w'en de votin' tam' com' 'long de men lak' for hav' Choteau +County sher'ff w'at kin mak' de arres' better as de sher'ff w'at kin +dance good. _Voila_!" Without so much as a glance toward the other, +he slipped into his saddle and started slowly down the alley. Before +he reached the street Moore's horse pushed up beside him. + +"Where's this here outfit?" he growled, with a glance toward the +dance-hall lights, "an' what makes you think they's a-goin' to be +gun-fightin'?" + +"A'm t'ink dey ain' so far," replied the half-breed as he swung into +the trail at a trot. And although the impatient deputy plied him with +a volley of questions the other vouchsafed no further information. +Midway of the ascent to the bench the two drew rein abruptly. From +above, and at no great distance, rang the sound of a shot--then +silence. The deputy glanced at the half-breed: "Hey, Bat," he +whispered, "this here's a dangerous business!" + +"Mebbe-so Choteau County lak' to git de sher'ff w'at ain' so mooch +scairt." + +"Scairt! Who's scairt? It hain't that. But I got a wife an' nine +kids back there in the mountains, an' I'm a-goin' to deputize you." + +The half-breed shot him a look of sudden alarm: "_Non_! _Non_! Better +I lak' I ponch de cattle. You ke'p de nine wife an' de kid!" + +"You hain't got no more sense than a reservation Injun!" growled the +deputy. "What I mean is, you got to help me make this here arrest!" + +The half-breed grinned broadly: "Me,--A'm de, w'at you call, de posse, +eh? _Bien_! Com' on 'long den. Mebbe-so we no ketch, you no git +'lect for sher'ff." + +At the head of the trail the deputy checked his galloping mount with a +jerk and scrutinized the three riderless horses that stood huddled +together. His face paled perceptibly. "Oh, Lord!" he gasped between +stiffening lips: "It's Tex, an' Jack Purdy, an' they've fit over +Cinnabar Joe's gal!" + +He turned wrathfully toward Bat. "Why'n you tell me who it was up +here, so's I could a gathered a man's-size posse?" he demanded. +"Whichever one of them two has shot up the other, they hain't goin' to +be took in none peaceable. An' if they've killed one of each other +a'ready, he ain't goin' to be none scrupulous about pottin' you an' me. +Chances is, they've got us covered right now. 'Tain't noways +percautious to go ahead--an' we don't dast to go back! Bat, this is a +hell of a place to be--an' it's your fault. Mebbe they won't shoot a +unarmed man--here Bat, you take my gun an' go ahead. I'll tell 'em +back there how you was game to the last. O-O-o-o-o! I got a turrible +cramp in my stummick! I got to lay down. Do your duty, Bat, an' if I +surmise this here attact, which I think it's the appendeetus, I'll tell +'em how you died with yer boots on in the service of yer country." The +man forced his six-shooter into the half-breed's hand and, slipping +limply from his saddle to the ground, wriggled swiftly into the shadow +of a sage bush. + +Bat moved his horse slowly forward as he peered about him. "If Purdy +keel de pilgrim, den A'm better look out. He don' lak' me nohow, +'cause A'm fin' out 'bout dat cinch. Better A'm lak' Sam Moore, A'm +git de 'pendeceet in my belly for li'l w'ile." He swung off his horse +and flattening himself against the ground, advanced cautiously from +bush to bush. At the edge of the depression he paused and stared at +the two figures that huddled close together a few feet ahead. Both +were gazing toward the trail and in the moonlight he recognized the +face of the pilgrim. With a smile of satisfaction the half-breed stood +erect and advanced boldly. + +"You com' in tam', eh?" he asked, as with a nod Endicott stepped toward +him and handed him the revolver. + +"Yes, just in time. I am deeply grateful to you." + +"Eh?" The other's brows drew together. + +"I say, I thank you--for the gun, and for telling me----" + +"Ha, dat's a'right. W'er' Purdy?" The girl shuddered, as Endicott +pointed to the ground at some little distance away. The man advanced +and bent over the prostrate form. + +"Ba goss!" he exclaimed with a glance of admiration. "You shoot heem +after de draw! _Nom de Dieu_! You good man wit' de gun! Wer' you hit +heem?" + +Endicott shook his head. "I don't know. I saw him, and shot, and he +fell." The half-breed was bending over the man on the ground. + +"You shoot heem on he's head," he approved, "dat pret' good place." He +bent lower and a sibilant sound reached the ears of Endicott and the +girl. After a moment the man stood up and came toward them smiling. +"A'm fin' out if she dead," he explained, casually. "A'm speet de +tobac' juice in he's eye. If she wink she ain' dead. Purdy, she don' +wink no mor'. Dat damn good t'ing." + +Again Alice Marcum shuddered as Endicott spoke: "Can you find our +horses?" he asked. "I must go to town and give myself up." + +"_Oui_, A'm git de hoss' a'right. Better you tak' 'em an' skeep off. +A'm git on dat posse an' you bet we no ketch. A'm lak' you fine." + +"No! No!" Endicott exclaimed. "If I have killed a man I shall stand +trial for it. I won't sneak away like a common murderer. I know my +act was no crime, let the decision of the jury be what it may." + +The half-breed regarded him with a puzzled frown. "You mean you lak' +fer git arres'?" he asked in surprise. + +"Why, of course! I--" the other interrupted with a laugh. + +"A'right. Dat de kin' Sam Moore she lak' fer arres'. Sam, she layin' +back here a ways. She dipity sher'ff, an' we'n we com' on dem hoss', +Sam she git to fink 'bout he's wife an' kids. He don' fink 'bout dem +mooch only w'en he git dronk, or git scairt. Den he lov' 'em lak' +hell, an' he grab de beeg belly-ache, so dey don' got for feel sorry +'bout heem gittin' keel." + +Slipping his own gun into its holster, the half-breed turned and walked +toward the spot where he had left the deputy, and as he walked he threw +open the cylinder of the officer's gun and removed the cartridges. + +"Sam!" he called sharply. Cautiously a head raised from behind a sage +bush. "How long you t'ink dat tak' you git well? Wan man he lak' for +git arres' w'en you git time." + +"Shut up! Don't talk so loud! D'you want to git us killed? Which one +got it?" + +"Purdy. De pilgrim shoot heem 'cause he run off wit' he's girl." + +"Pilgrim! What pilgrim! An' what girl? Ain't that Tex Benton's +horse, an' Cinnabar Joe's----?" + +"Uh-huh, A'm bor' heem Tex boss for ketch Purdy. An', Ba goss, he +shoot heem on he's head after Purdy draw'd!" + +Moore stared aghast. "What? A pilgrim done that? Not on yer life! +He may look an' act like a pilgrim but, take it from me, he's a +desperate character if he got Purdy after he draw'd. It's worser than +if it was Tex. _He_ might of took pity on us, knowin' about the +fambly. But a stranger, an' one that kin git a man like Jack Purdy! +O-o-o-o, my stummick! Bat, I'm 'fraid I'm a-passin' away! These +spells is a-killin' me--an' what'll become of the woman an' the kids?" + +The half-breed grinned: "Mebbe-so you kin' pass back agin, Sam. He +ain' got no gun." + +Sam Moore ceased to writhe, and sat abruptly erect. "Ain't got no +gun!" he exclaimed. "What did he shoot Purdy with?" + +"My gun. He giv' it back to me. A'm bor' heem dat gun li'l while ago." + +The deputy sprang to his feet. "Quick, now, Bat!" he roared loudly. +"You slip these irons on him, an' I'll catch up the horses. Don't take +no chances!" He tossed the half-breed a pair of hand-cuffs, and +started after his own horse. "Kill him if he makes a crooked move. +Tell him you're actin' under my authority an' let him understand we're +hard men to tamper with--us sheriffs. We don't stand fer no foolin'." + + +In Curly Hardee's dance-hall Tex Benton leaned against the wall and +idly watched the couples weave in and out upon the floor to the whining +accompaniment of the fiddles and the clanging piano. + +Apparently the cowboy's interest centred solely upon the dancers, but a +close observer would have noticed the keen glance with which he scanned +each new arrival--noticed too, that after a few short puffs on a +cigarette the man tossed it to the floor and immediately rolled +another, which is not in the manner of a man with a mind at ease. + +The Texan saw Endicott enter the room, watched as the man's eyes swept +the faces of dancers and spectators, and smiled as he turned toward the +door. + +"Three of us," mused the cowboy, with the peculiar smile still twisting +the corners of his lips, "Purdy, an' me, an' the pilgrim. Purdy's +work's so coarse he'll gum his own game, an' that's where I come in. +An' the pilgrim--I ain't quite figgered how he stacks up." The +cowpuncher glanced at his watch. "It's time they showed up long ago. +I wonder what's keepin' em." Suddenly he straightened himself with a +jerk: "Good Lord! I wonder if---- But no, not even Purdy would try +_that_. Still, if he knows I know he tried to dope me he'll be +figgerin' on pullin' his freight anyhow, an'--" The man's lips +tightened and, elbowing his way to the door he stepped onto the street +and hurried to the Headquarters saloon. Cinnabar Joe was behind the +bar, apparently none the worse for his dose of chloral, and in answer +to a swift signal, followed the Texan to the rear of the room. + +"Does Purdy know I'm wise to his dope game?" + +The bartender nodded: "Yes, I told him you must of switched the +glasses." + +"I saw him leadin' your horse rigged up with your side-saddle acrost +the flats awhile back." + +Again the bartender nodded: "He borrowed the outfit fer a gal of his'n +he said come in on the train. Wanted to take her fer a ride." + +"Where'd they go?" The words whipped viciously. + +"Search me! I've had my hands full to keep track of what's goin' on in +here, let alone outside." + +Without a word the Texan stepped out the back door and hastened toward +the horse corral behind the livery stable. Circling its fence to the +head of the alley, he stared in surprise at the spot where he and Bat +Lajune had tied their horses. The animals were gone, and cursing the +half-breed at every step, he rushed to the street, and catching up the +reins of a big roan that stood in a group of horses, swung into the +saddle and headed out onto the trail. + +"Women are fools," he muttered savagely. "It beats hell what even the +sensible ones will fall for!" + +At the up-bend of the trail he halted abruptly and listened. From the +shadows of the coulee ahead came the sound of voices and the soft +scraping of horses' feet. He drew the roan into a cottonwood thicket +and waited. + +"Somethin' funny here. Nobody ever come to a dance ridin' at a walk," +he muttered, and then as the little cavalcade broke into the bright +moonlight at a bend of the trail, his eyes widened with surprise. In +front rode Bat Lajune with Purdy's horse snubbed to his saddle-horn, +and immediately following him were the girl and Endicott riding side by +side. Tex saw that the girl was crying, and that Endicott's hands were +manacled, and that he rode the missing horse. Behind them rode Sam +Moore, pompously erect, a six-shooter laid across the horn of his +saddle, and a scowl of conceited importance upon his face that would +have evoked the envy of the Kaiser of Krautland. The figure appealed +to the Texan's sense of humour and waiting until the deputy was exactly +opposite his place of concealment, he filled his lungs and leaned +forward in his saddle. + +"Y-e-e-e-o-w!" The sound blared out like the shrill of doom. The +officer's six-shooter thudded upon the ground, his hands grasped the +horn of the saddle, his spurs dug into his horse's flanks and sent the +animal crashing between the girl and Endicott and caused Purdy's horse +to tear loose from the half-breed's saddle-horn. + +"Stand 'em off, Bat!" shrieked the deputy as he shot past, "I'm a-goin' +fer help!" and away he tore, leaning far over his horse's neck, with +Purdy's horse, the stirrups lashing his sides, dashing madly in his +wake. + +A moment later Tex pushed his mount into the trail where the girl, +drawn close to Endicott, waited in fearful expectation. The half-breed +met him with a grin. + +Rapidly, with many ejaculations interspersing explosive volleys of +half-intelligible words, Bat acquainted the Texan with the progress of +events. The cowpuncher listened without comment until the other had +finished. Then he turned to Endicott. + +"Where'd you learn to shoot?" he asked abruptly. + +"I never learned. Until tonight I never had a pistol in my hand." + +"You done damned well--to start out with," commented the Texan dryly. + +"But, oh, it's horrible!" sobbed the girl, "and it's all my fault!" + +"I reckon that's right. It looks like a bad mix-up all around." + +"Oh, why didn't you tell me what a _beast_ he was? You knew all the +time. And when you insulted him I thought you were _horrid_! And I +thought he was so noble when he refrained from shooting you." + +"No. He wasn't noble, none noticeable--Purdy wasn't. An' as for me +tellin' you about him--answer me square: Would you have believed me?" + +The girl's eyes fell before his steady gaze. + +"No," she faltered, "I wouldn't. But isn't there something we can do? +Some way out of this awful mess?" + +The Texan's eyes flashed a glint of daring. He was thinking rapidly. +Endicott moved his horse closer to the cowboy. "Can't you manage to +get _her_ away--onto a train some place so she can avoid the annoyance +of having to testify at the trial, and submit to the insulting remarks +of your sheriff?" + +The girl interrupted him: "Winthrop Adams Endicott, if you dare to even +think _such_ a thing--I'll never speak to you again! Indeed he _won't_ +take me away or put me on any train! I got you into this, and I won't +budge one inch until you get out of it. What do I care for a little +annoyance--and as for the sheriff, I'll say 'boo' at him in the dark +and he'll die." + +There was a gleam of approval in the eyes of the Texan as his lips +twisted into their peculiar cynical smile. "Spunky little devil," he +thought to himself. "There's a chance to pull a play here somewhere +that'll make me solid with her all right. I got to have time to +think." Aloud he said: "Just you leave things to me. I'll get a line +on what's what. But you both got to do as I say, an' no augerin' about +it neither. It looks from here as if things could be straightened out +if someone don't go to work an' ball the jack. An' as for Sam passin' +insultin' remarks no more--he won't. Here he comes now with about half +Wolf River for a posse." The cowboy turned to Endicott: "You go 'long +with 'em an' lay low 'til you hear from Bat, there, or me. Then you do +as we say, an' don't ask no questions." + +The rumble of horses' feet sounded from the direction of the little +town and the Texan whispered to Bat: "Find out where they lock him up. +An' when the excitement dies down you find me. I ain't a-goin' to lose +sight of _her_--see." The half-breed grinned his understanding and Tex +swung his horse in close beside the girl and awaited the coming of the +posse. + +With a yell the onrushing cowboys whom the deputy had recruited from +the dance-hall spied the little group and, thundering up at full +gallop, formed a closely packed circle about them. Recognizing the +deputy who was vociferously urging his horse from the rear, Tex forced +his way through the circle and called him aside. + +"Say, Sam," he drawled, in a tone that caused the deputy's hair to +prickle at its roots; "about some an' sundry insultin' remarks you +passed agin' the lady, yonder----" + +"No, I never----" + +"That'll be about all the lyin' you need to do now. An' just let this +sink in. You can lock up the pilgrim where you damn please. But the +lady goes to the hotel. If you aim to hold her as a witness you can +appoint a guard--an' I'm the guard. D'you get me? 'Cause if there's +any misunderstandin' lingerin' in them scrambled aigs you use fer +brains, I'll just start out by tellin' the boys what a hell of a brave +arrest you pulled off, an' about the nervy stand you made agin' odds to +guard your prisoners when I yipped at you from the brush. Then, after +they get through havin' their fun out of you, I'll just waste a shell +on you for luck--see?" + +"Sure, Tex, that sounds reasonable," the other rattled on in evident +relief. "Fact is, I be'n huntin' fer you ever sense I suspicioned +they'd be'n a murder. 'If I c'd only find Tex,' I says to myself, I +says, 'he'd be worth a hull posse hisself.' Jest you go ahead an' +night-herd the lady. I'll tell her myself so's it'll be official. An' +me an' the rest of the boys here, we'll take care of the pilgrim, which +he ain't no pilgrim at all, but a desperate desperado, or he couldn't +never have got Jack Purdy the way he done." + +The Texan grinned and, forcing his horse through the crowd, reached the +girl's side where he was joined a few moments later by the deputy. +Despite her embarrassing situation Alice Marcum could scarce restrain a +smile at the officer's sudden obsequious deference. Stetson in hand, +he bowed awkwardly. "Excuse me, mom, but, as I was goin' on to say in +reference of any remarks I might of passed previous, I found out +subsequent I didn't mean what I was sayin', which I misunderstood +myself complete. But as I was goin' on to say, mom, the State of +Montany might need you fer a witness in this here felonious trial, so +if you'll be so kind an' go to the _ho_tel along of Tex here whom he's +the party I've tolled off fer to guard you, an' don't stand no monkey +business neither. What I mean is," he hastened to add, catching a +glance from the Texan's eye, "don't be afraid to ask fer soap or towels +if there hain't none in yer room, an' if yer cold holler fer an extry +blanket er two. The State's a-payin' fer it, an' yer board, too, an' +if they don't fill you up every meal you set up a yell an' I'll see 't +they do." The deputy turned abruptly away and addressed the cowboys: +"Come on, boys, let's git this character under lock an' key so I kin +breathe easier." + +Even Endicott joined in the laugh that greeted the man's words and, +detaining a cowpuncher to ride on either side of the prisoner, the +officer solemnly led the way toward town. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +ONE WAY OUT + +As the horses traversed the two miles of winding trail, Alice Marcum +glanced from time to time at the Texan who rode silently at her side. +The man's face was grave and he seemed entirely oblivious to her +presence. Only once did she venture to speak to him. + +"I suppose I ought to thank you, Mr.----" + +"Tex'll do," supplied the man, without even the courtesy of a glance. + +"--for the very changed attitude of the sheriff, and for the fact that +I am to be lodged in the hotel instead of the jail." + +The girl thought the Texan's lips drew into their peculiar smile, but +he gave no further evidence of having heard and rode on in silence, +with his attention apparently fixed upon the tips of his horse's ears. +At the edge of town the crowd, with Endicott in its midst, swerved +toward the railroad and the girl found herself alone with her jailer. +She drew up her horse sharply and glanced back toward the prisoner. + +"This way," said a voice close beside her; "we'll go to the hotel, I +guess there's enough of 'em to see that the pilgrim gets locked up +safe." + +"But I--I want to speak to him. To tell him----" + +"Never mind what you want to tell him. It'll keep, I reckon." + +At the door of the wooden hotel the cowpuncher swung from his horse. +"You wait here a minute; I'll go fetch Jennie. She's prob'ly over to +the dance. She'll fix you up with a room an' see that you get what you +want." + +"But my bag?" + +"Yer what?" + +"My bag--with all my things in it. I left it in the car." + +"Oh, yer war-bag! All right, I'll get that after I've got Jennie cut +out an' headed this way." + +He stepped into the dance-hall next door and motioned to a plump, +round-faced girl who was dancing with a young cowboy. At the +conclusion of the dance the girl laughingly refused to accompany her +partner to the bar, and made her way toward the Texan. + +"Say, Jennie," the man said, after drawing her aside; "there's a girl +over to the hotel and I want you to go over an' fix her up with a room. +Give her Number 11. It's handy to the side door." + +The girl's nose went up and the laughing eyes flashed scornfully. "No, +you don't, Tex Benton! What do you think I am? An' what's more, you +don't pull nothin' like that around there. That hotel's run decent, +an' it's goin' to stay decent or Hank can get someone else fer help. +They's some several of the boys has tried it sence I be'n there but +they never tried it but onct. _An' that goes_!" The girl turned away +with a contemptuous sniff. + +"Jennie!" The Texan was smiling. "This is a little different case, I +reckon." + +"They're all different cases," she retorted. "But everything's be'n +tried from a sister come on a unexpected visit, to slippin' me +five--Cinnabar Joe tended to that one's case hisself, an' he done a +good job, too. So you might's well save yer wind 'cause there ain't +nothin' you can think up to say that'll fool me a little bit. I ain't +worked around hotels fer it's goin' on six years fer nothin', an' I +wouldn't trust no man--cowboys an' drummers least of all." + +"Listen, Jennie, I ain't tryin' to tell you I wouldn't. Only this +time, I ain't. If I was, don't you suppose I've got sense enough not +to go to you to help me with it?" The girl waited with all outward +appearance of skepticism for him to proceed. "This girl went ridin' +with Jack Purdy--he borrowed the side-saddle from Cinnabar----" + +"Did Cinnabar loan him that saddle fer any such----?" + +"Hold on, now, Cinnabar don't know nothin' about it. Purdy wants to +borrow his side-saddle an' Joe says sure." + +"He might of know'd if Purdy wanted it, it wasn't fer no good. You're +all bad enough, goodness knows, but he was the worst of the lot. I +hate Purdy an' you bet he cuts a big circle when he sees me comin'." + +"Well, he won't no more," answered the Texan dryly. "Purdy's dead." + +"Dead!" + +"Yes. He took a pilgrim's girl out on the bench an' the pilgrim got +wise to it an' dug out after 'em. Got there just in time an' took a +shot at Purdy an' got him." + +"Land sakes! I'm glad he did! If they was a few more pilgrims like +him that would get about half the rest of you, maybe the others would +turn decent, or take to the brush." + +The Texan laughed. "Anyway Purdy's dead, an' they've got the pilgrim +locked up, an' the girl's held fer a witness, an' I told Sam Moore I'd +take a shot at him if he locked her up wherever he's goin' to lock up +the pilgrim--in the wool-warehouse I reckon. Anyhow, he told her to go +to the hotel an' specified me fer a guard." + +"Oh, he did, did he? Well jest you wait 'til I get my hat. I guess +maybe she'll be safer with _two_ guards." With a meaning look the girl +hurried away and a moment later returned and followed the Texan from +the room. + +"Why was you so anxious she was to have Number 11, if what you've told +me is on the level?" she asked, as they approached the hotel. + +"I don't know, yet, exactly. But I've got a hunch they'll be somethin' +doin' a little later." + +"Uh-huh, an' I'll be right there when it's doin', too. An' you can bet +your last blue one on that!" + +Alice Marcum swung unassisted to the ground as the two approached. And +as she glanced into the wide, friendly eyes of the girl she felt deeply +grateful to the Texan for bringing a woman. Then the woman was +speaking: "Come right along in the house. I'm Jennie Dodds, an' I'll +see't you get settled comfortable. Tex, he told me all about it. Land +sakes! I bet you feel proud! Who'd a thought any pilgrim could a got +Jack Purdy! Where's your grip?" + +"Gosh! I plumb forgot!" exclaimed the cowboy, and started for his +horse. "I'll be back with yer war-bag in a minute." A few moments +later, he returned to the hotel carrying a leather bag. + +"I'm goin' to kind of slip around among the boys a bit. I've be'n +doin' some thinkin' an maybe we can figger a way out. I don't quite +like the way things is shapin' up. I'll be wantin' most likely to see +you in a while----" + +"We'll both be here," interrupted Jennie. "_Both_ of us. We'll be in +Number 11." + +Outside the hotel the Texan paused to roll and light a cigarette, and +as he blew the smoke from his lungs, he smiled cynically. + +"Purdy's work was so damn coarse he got just what was comin' to him. +There's only me an' the pilgrim, now--an' it's me an' him for it. I +ain't plumb got the girl sized up yet. If she's straight--all right. +She'll stay straight. If she ain't---- They say everything's fair in +love an' war, an' bein' as it's my deal the pilgrim's got to go up +against a stacked deck. An' if things works out right, believe me, +he's a-goin' to know he's be'n somewhere by the time he gets back--if +he ever does get back." + +For the third time that evening he entered the dance-hall and avoiding +the dancers made his way leisurely toward the bar that ran along one +side of the room. + +"Hello, Tex, ain't dancin'? Say, they're tellin' how a pilgrim killed +Jack Purdy. Yes, an' they got him locked up down in the +wool-warehouse. What's yourn?" The cowboy ranged himself beside the +Texan. + +"A little red liquor, I reckon." The men poured their drinks and the +Texan glanced toward the other: "You ain't mournin' none over Purdy, +Curly?" + +"Who, me?" the man laughed. "Not what you c'd notice, I ain't. An' +they's plenty others ain't, too. I don't hear no lamentations wailin' +a-bustin' in on the festchivities. It was over the pilgrim's girl. +They say how Purdy tried to----" + +"Yes, he did. But the pilgrim got there first. I been thinkin', +Curly. It's plumb shameful for to hold the pilgrim for doin' what one +of us would of had to do sooner or later. Choteau County has stood for +him about as long as it could, an' a damn sight longer than it ought +to. His work was gettin' so rotten it stunk, I could tell you about a +sage-brush corral an' some runnin'-iron work over on the south +slope----" + +"Yes," broke in the other, "an' there's a hell of a lot of I X an' Bear +Paw Pool cows that show'd up, brandin' time, 'thout no calves." + +The Texan nodded: "Exactly. Now, what I was goin' on to say: The grand +jury don't set for a couple or three months yet. An' when they do, +they'll turn the pilgrim loose so quick it'll make yer head swim. +Then, there's the girl. They'll hold her for a witness--not that +they'd have to, 'cause she'll stay on her own hook. Now what's the use +of them bein' took down to Benton an' stuck in jail? Drink up, an' +have another." + +"Not none," agreed Curly, as he measured out his liquor to an imaginary +line half-way up the glass. "But how'd you figger to fix it?" + +"Well," answered the Texan, as his lips twisted into their peculiar +smile; "we might get the right bunch together an' go down to the +wool-warehouse an' save the grand jury the trouble." + +The other stared at him in amazement: "You mean bust him out?" + +Tex laughed: "Sure. Lord! Won't it be fun seein' Sam Moore puttin' up +a scrap to save his prisoner?" + +"But, how'd we git away with him? All Sam w'd do is git a posse an' +take out after him an' they'd round him up 'fore he got to Three-mile. +Or if we went along we'd git further but they'd git us in the end an' +then we'd be in a hell of a fix!" + +"Your head don't hurt you none, workin' it that way, does it?" grinned +Tex. "I done thought it all out. We'll get the boys an' slip down to +the warehouse an' take the pilgrim out an' slip a noose around his neck +an' set him on a horse an' ride out of town a-cussin' him an' +a-swearin' to lynch him. He won't know but what we aim to hang him to +the first likely cottonwood, an' we'll have a lot of fun with him. An' +no one else won't know it, neither. Then you-all ride back an' pertend +to keep mum, but leak it out that we done hung him. They won't be no +posse hunt for him then an' I'll take him an' slip him acrost to the N. +P. or the C. P. R. an' let him go. It's too good a chanct to miss. +Lordy! Won't the pilgrim beg! An' Sam Moore--he'll be scairt out of a +year's growth!" + +"But, the girl," objected Curly. + +"Oh, the girl--well, they'll turn her loose, of course. They ain't +nothin' on her except for a witness. An' if they ain't no prisoner +they won't need no witness, will they?" + +"That's right," assented the other. "By gosh, Tex, what you can't +think up, the devil wouldn't bother with. That's sure some stunt. +Let's get the boys an' go to it!" + +"You get the boys together. Get about twenty of the live ones an' head +'em over to the Headquarters. I'll go hunt up a horse for the pilgrim +an' be over there in half an hour." + +Curly passed from man to man, whom he singled out from among the +dancers and onlookers, and the Texan slipped unobserved through the +door and proceeded directly to the hotel. On the street he met Bat. + +"De pilgrim, she lock up in de woolhouse an' Sam Moore she stan' 'long +de door wit two revolver an' wan big rifle." + +"All right, Bat. You look alive now, an' catch up Purdy's horse an' +see that you get a good set of bridle reins on him, an' find the girl's +horse an' get holt of a pack-horse somewheres an' get your war-bag an' +mine an' our blankets onto him, an' go down to the store an' get a +couple more pairs of blankets, an' grub enough fer a week for four, an' +get that onto him, an' have all them horses around to the side door of +the hotel in twenty minutes, or I'll bust you wide open an' fill your +hide with prickly pears." + +The half-breed nodded his understanding and slipped onto his horse as +the Texan entered the hotel. Passing through the office where a +coal-oil lamp burned dimly in a wall-bracket, he stepped into the +narrow hallway and paused with his eyes on the bar of yellow light that +showed at the bottom of the door of Number 11. + +"Most any fool thing would do to tell the girl. But I've got to make +it some plausible to put it acrost on Jennie. I'm afraid I kind of +over-played my hand a little when I let her in on this, but--damn it! +I felt kind of sorry for the girl even if it was her own fool fault +gettin' into this jack-pot. I thought maybe a woman could kind of +knock off the rough edges a little. Well, here goes!" He knocked +sharply, and it was a very grave-faced cowboy who stepped into the room +and closed the door behind him. "I've be'n doin' quite some feelin' +out of the public pulse, as the feller says, an' the way things looks +from here, the pilgrim is sure in bad. You see, the jury is bound to +be made up of cow-men an' ranchers with a sheep-man or two mixed in. +An' they're all denizens that Choteau County is infested with. Now a +stranger comin' in that way an' kind of pickin' one of us off, casual, +like a tick off'n a dog's ear, it won't be looked on with favour----" + +Jennie interrupted, with a belligerent forefinger wagging almost +against the Texan's nose: "But that Jack Purdy needed killin' if ever +any one did. He was loose an'----" + +"Yes," broke in Tex, "he was. I ain't here to pronounce no benediction +of blessedness on Purdy's remains. But, you got to recollect that most +of the jury, picked out at random, is in the same boat--loose, an' +needin' killin', which they know as well as you an' me do, an' +consequent ain't a-goin' to establish no oncomfortable precedent. +Suppose any pilgrim was allowed to step off'n a train any time he +happened to be comin' through, an' pick off a loose one? What would +Choteau County's or any other county's he-population look like in a +year's time, eh? It would look like the hair-brush out here in the +wash-room, an' you could send in the votin' list on a cigarette paper. +No, sir, the pilgrim ain't got a show if he's got to face a jury. +There's only one way out, an' there's about fifteen or twenty of the +boys that's willin' to give him a chance. We're a-goin' to bust him +out of jail an' put him on a horse an' run him up some cottonwood +coulee with a rope around his neck." + +Alice Marcum, who had followed every word, turned chalk-white in the +lamplight as she stared wide-eyed at the Texan, with fingers pressed +tight against her lips, while Jennie placed herself protectingly +between them and launched into a perfect tirade. + +"Hold on, now." Both girls saw that the man was smiling and Jennie +relapsed into a warlike silence. "A rope necktie ain't a-goin' to hurt +no one as long as he keeps his heft off'n it. As I was goin' on to +say, we'll run him up this coulee an' a while later the boys'll ride +back to town in the same semmey-serious mood that accompanies such +similar enterprises. They won't do no talkin' an' they won't need to. +Folks will naturally know that justice has be'n properly dispensed +with, an' that their taxes won't raise none owin' to county funds bein' +misdirected in prosecutin' a public benefactor--an' they'll be +satisfied. The preacher'll preach a long sermon condemnin' the takin' +of human life without due process of law, an' the next Sunday he'll +preach another one about the onchristian shootin' of folks without +givin' 'em a chanct to repent--after they'd drawed--an' he'll use the +lynchin' as a specimen of the workin's of the hand of the Lord in +bringin' speedy justice onto the murderer. + +"But they ain't be'n no lynchin' done. 'Cause the boys will turn the +prisoner over to me an' I'll hustle him acrost to the N. P. an' let him +get out of the country." + +Alice Marcum leaped to her feet: "Oh, are you telling me the truth? +How do I know you're not going to lynch him? I told him I'd stay with +him and see him through!" + +The Texan regarded her gravely: "You can," he said after a moment of +silence. "I'll have Bat take you to Snake Creek crossing an' you can +wait there 'til I come along with the pilgrim. Then we'll cut through +the mountains an' hit down through the bad lands an'----" + +"No you don't, Tex Benton!" Jennie was facing him again. "You're a +smooth one all right. How long would it take you to lose the pilgrim +there in the bad lands, even if you don't lynch him, which it ain't no +cinch you ain't a-goin' to--then where would _she_ be? No, sir, you +don't pull nothin' like that off on me!" + +"But I want to go!" cried Alice. "I want to be near him, and I'm not +afraid." + +The girl regarded her for a moment in silence. "I should think you'd +had enough of cowpunchers for one night. But if you're bound to go I +ain't got no right to hold you. I'd go along with you if I could, but +I can't." + +"I'm not afraid," she answered as her eyes sought the Texan's. "I've +learned a lot in the past few hours." + +"I guess you ain't learnt enough to hurt you none," retorted Jennie, +with a trace of acid in her tone. "An' you'll learn a lot more 'fore +you hit the N. P., or my name ain't Jennie Dodds. If you're bound to +go you can take my outfit. I guess Tex'll see that my horse comes +back, anyhow." + +The cowpuncher grinned: "Thanks, Jennie, I'm right proud to know you +think I wouldn't steal your horse." Once more he turned to the girl. +"When the half-breed comes for you, you go with him. I've got to go on +with the boys, now." Abruptly he left the room, and once more paused +in the hall before passing through the office. "She's game, all right. +An' the way she can look at a fellow out of those eyes of hers---- By +God! Purdy _ought_ to be'n killed!" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE PILGRIM + +A group of saddle-horses stood before the Headquarters saloon, and as +the Texan entered he was vociferously greeted by the twenty cowboys who +crowded the bar. + +"Come on, Tex, drink up!" + +"Hell'll be a-poppin' down to the wool-warehouse." + +"An', time we get there we won't be able to see Sam Moore fer dust." +Curly raised his glass and the cowpunchers joined in uproarious song: + + "We'll string him up to a cottonwood limb + An' dig his grave in under him, + We'll tromp down the clods, an' we won't give a damn + 'Cause he'll never kill another cow-man, + Ah wi yi yippie i oo-o-!" + +Without a break the Texan picked up the refrain, improvising words to +fit the occasion: + + "The sheriff's name, it's old Sam Moore, + He's standin' down by the jail-house door + With seventeen knives an' a gatlin' gun, + But you bet your boots we'll make him run + Ah wi yi yippie i o-o-o-!" + +With whoops of approbation and a deafening chorus of yowls and +catcalls, the cowpunchers crowded through the door. A moment later the +bar-room was deserted and out in the street the night air resounded +with the sound of snorting, trampling horses, the metallic jangle of +spurs and bit chains, the creak of saddle-leather, and the terse, +quick-worded observations of men mounting in the midst of the confusion +of refractory horses. + +"The sheriff's name, it's old Sam Moore!" roared a cowboy as he slammed +into the saddle of a skew-ball black. + +"Go git him!" howled another in exact imitation of Slim Maloney. + +There was a thunder of hoofs as the whole crowd, headed by Tex and +Curly swept down the street and across the flat toward the impromptu +jail. + +With a lighted lantern beside him, Sam Moore sat upon the strongly +built unloading platform before the warehouse door, access to which was +gained by means of a flight of six or eight plank steps at either end. +Up these steps rode a couple of cowpunchers while the rest drew up +sharply at the very edge of the platform. Hemmed in upon all sides the +valiant deputy glanced fearfully into the faces of the horsemen. +"Wha--What's up, boys? What's ailin' ye?" he managed to blurt out. + +"Drop them guns an' give over the key!" commanded someone. + +"Sure--sure, boys! I hain't aimin' to hurt no one. Yer all friends of +mine an' what you say goes with me." + +"Friends of yourn!" roared someone menacingly; "you're a liar, Sam! +You ain't never seen nary one of us before! Git that!" + +"Sure, sure thing, boys, I don't know who ye be. 'Tain't none of my +business. I couldn't name none of you. You don't need to be scairt of +me." + +"You beat it, then, an' lose yerself an' don't yer go stirrin' up no +rookus over to the dance, er we'll dangle you a little, too." + +"Sure. I'm a-goin' now. I----" + +"Fork over that key first!" + +"Sure, Tex! Here it is----" + +"Sure _who_!" rasped a voice close to the sheriff's ear. + +"I mean--I said---- Here's the doggone key! I was thinkin' of a +feller I know'd down to Wyomin'. Tex--Tex--Smith, er some such of a +name it was. I mistrusted you was him, an' mebbe you be fer all I +know. I don't savvy none of you whatever." + +"Get a move on, Sam!" + +"Me! I'm gone! An' you boys remember when 'lection time comes, to +vote fer a sheriff that's got disgression an' common sense." And with +ludicrous alacrity, the deputy scrambled from the platform and +disappeared into the deep blackness of the lumber-yard. + +The Texan fitted the key into the huge padlock and a moment later the +door swung open and a dozen cowpunchers swarmed in. + +"Come on, pilgrim, an' try on yer necktie!" + +"We'll prob'ly have to haul down all them wool-sacks an' drag him out +from behind 'em." + +"I think not. If I am the man you want I think you will find me +perfectly able to walk." The pilgrim stood leaning against one of the +wooden supporting posts, and as a cowboy thrust the lantern into his +face he noted the eyes never faltered. + +"Come along with us!" commanded the puncher, gruffly, as another +stepped up and slipped the noose of a lariat-rope over his head. + +"So I am to be lynched, am I?" asked the pilgrim in a matter-of-fact +tone, as with a cowboy on either side he was hurried across the +platform and onto a horse. + +"This ain't no time to talk," growled another. "We'll give you a +chanct to empty yer chest 'fore we string you up." + +In the moonlight the prisoner's face showed very pale, but the cow-men +saw that his lips were firmly set, and the hands that caught up the +bridle reins did not falter. As the cavalcade started out upon the +trail the Texan turned back, and riding swiftly to the hotel, found Bat +waiting. + +"You go in to Number 11 and tell the girl you're ready to start." + +"You'm mean de pilgrim's girl?" + +The Texan frowned and swore under his breath: "She ain't the pilgrim's +girl, yet--by a damn sight! You take her an' the pack horse an' hit +down the river an' cut up through old man Lee's horse ranch onto the +bench. Then hit for Snake Creek crossin' an' wait for me." + +The half-breed nodded, and the Texan's frown deepened as he leaned +closer. "An' you see that you get her through safe an' sound or I'll +cut off them ears of yours an' stake you out in a rattlesnake den to +think it over." The man grinned and the frown faded from the Texan's +face. "You got to do me a good turn, Bat. Remember them four bits in +Las Vegas!" + +"A'm tak' de girl to Snake Creek crossin' a'right; you'm don' need for +be 'fraid for dat." + +The cowpuncher whirled and spurred his horse to overtake the cowboys +who, with the prisoner in charge, were already well out upon the trail. + +In front of the hotel the half-breed watched the flying horseman until +he disappeared from sight. + +"A'm wonder if dat girl be safe wit' him, lak' she is wit' me--_bien_. +A'm t'ink mebbe-so dat damn good t'ing ol' Bat goin' long. If she damn +fine girl mebbe-so Tex, he goin' mar' her. Dat be good t'ing. But, by +Gar! if he don' mar' her, he gon' leave her 'lone. Me--A'm lak' dat +Tex fine, lak' me own brudder. He got de good heart. But w'en he +drink de hooch, den A'm got for look after him. He don' care wan damn +'bout nuttin'. Dat four bit in Las Vegas, dats a'right. A'm fink +'bout dat, too. But, by Gar, it tak' more'n four bit in Las Vegas for +mak' of Bat let dat girl git harm." + + +An atmosphere of depression pervaded the group of riders as they wound +in and out of the cottonwood clumps and threaded the deep coulee that +led to the bench. For the most part they preserved an owlish silence, +but now and then someone would break into a low, weird refrain and the +others would join in with the mournful strain of "The Dying Cowboy." + + "Oh, bury me not on the lone prairie-e-e, + Where the coyote howls and the wind blows free." + +Or the dirge-like wail of the "Cowboy's Lament": + + "Then swing your rope slowly and rattle your spurs lowly, + And give a wild whoop as you carry me along: + And in the grave throw me and roll the sod o'er me, + For I'm only a cowboy that knows he's done wrong." + +"Shall we take him to Lone Tree Coulee?" asked one. Another answered +disdainfully. + +"Don't you know the lone tree's dead? Jest shrivelled up an' died +after Bill Atwood was hung onto it. Some augers he worn't guilty. But +it's better to play safe, an' string up all the doubtful ones, then yer +bound to git the right one onct in a while." + +"Swing over into Buffalo Coulee," commanded Tex. "There's a bunch of +cottonwoods just above Hansen's old sheep ranch." + + "We'll string him up to a cottonwood limb + An' dig his grave in under him----" + +"Shut up!" ordered Curly, favouring the singer with a scowl. "Any one +would think you was joyous-minded, which this here hangin' a man is +plumb serious business, even if it hain't only a pilgrim!" + +He edged his horse in beside the Texan's. "He don't seem tore up with +terror, none. D'you think he's onto the racket?" + +Tex shook his head, and with his eyes on the face of the prisoner which +showed very white in the moonlight, rode on in silence. + +"You mean you think he's jest nach'ly got guts--an' him a pilgrim?" + +"How the hell do I know what he's got?" snapped the other. "Can't you +wait till we get to Buffalo?" + +Curly allowed his horse to fall back a few paces. "First time I ever +know'd Tex to pack a grouch," he mused, as his lips drew into a grin. +"He's sore 'cause the pilgrim hain't a-snifflin' an' a-carryin'-on an' +tryin' to beg off. Gosh! If he turns out to be a reg'lar hand, an' +steps up an' takes his medicine like a man, the joke'll be on Tex. The +boys never will quit joshin' him--an' he knows it. No wonder he's +sore." + +The cowboys rode straight across the bench. Song and conversation had +ceased and the only sounds were the low clink of bit chains and the +soft rustle of horses' feet in the buffalo grass. At the end of an +hour the leaders swung into an old grass-grown trail that led by +devious windings into a deep, steep-sided coulee along the bottom of +which ran the bed of a dried-up creek. Water from recent rains stood +in brackish pools. Remnants of fence with rotted posts sagging from +rusty wire paralleled their course. A dilapidated cross-fence barred +their way, and without dismounting, a cowboy loosened the wire gate and +threw it aside. + +A deserted log-house, windowless, with one corner rotted away, and the +sod roof long since tumbled in, stood upon a treeless bend of the dry +creek. Abandoned implements littered the dooryard; a rusted hay rake +with one wheel gone, a broken mower with cutter-bar drunkenly erect, +and the front trucks of a dilapidated wagon. + +The Texan's eyes rested sombrely upon the remnant of a rocking-horse, +still hitched by bits of weather-hardened leather to a child's +wheelbarrow whose broken wheel had once been the bottom of a wooden +pail--and he swore, softly. + +Up the creek he could see the cottonwood grove just bursting into leaf +and as they rounded the corner of a long sheep-shed, whose soggy straw +roof sagged to the ground, a coyote, disturbed in his prowling among +the whitening bones of dead sheep, slunk out of sight in a weed-patch. + +Entering the grove, the men halted at a point where the branches of +three large trees interlaced. It was darker, here. The moonlight +filtered through in tiny patches which brought out the faces of the men +with grotesque distinctness and plunged them again into blackness. + +Gravely the Texan edged his horse to the side of the pilgrim. + +"Get off!" he ordered tersely, and Endicott dismounted. + +"Tie his hands!" A cowboy caught the man's hands behind him and +secured them with a lariat-rope. + +The Texan unknotted the silk muffler from about his neck and folded it. + +"If it is just the same to you," the pilgrim asked, in a voice that +held firm, "will you leave that off?" + +Without a word the muffler was returned to its place. + +"Throw the rope over that limb--the big one that sticks out this way," +ordered the Texan, and a cowpuncher complied. + +"The knot had ort to come in under his left ear," suggested one, and +proceeded to twist the noose into place. + +"All ready!" + +A dozen hands grasped the end of the rope. + +The Texan surveyed the details critically: + +"This here is a disagreeable job," he said. "Have you got anything to +say?" + +Endicott took a step forward, and as he faced the Texan, his eyes +flashed. "Have I got anything to say!" he sneered. "Would you have +anything to say if a bunch of half-drunken fools decided to take the +law into their own hands and hang you for defending a woman against the +brutal attack of a fiend?" He paused and wrenched to free his hands +but the rope held firm. "It was a wise precaution you took when you +ordered my hands tied--a precaution that fits in well with this whole +damned cowardly proceeding. And now you ask me if I have anything to +say!" He glanced into the faces of the cowboys who seemed to be +enjoying the situation hugely. + +"I've got this to say--to you, and to your whole bunch of grinning +hyenas: If you expect me to do any begging or whimpering, you are in +for a big disappointment. There is one request I am going to make--and +that you won't grant. Just untie my hands for ten minutes and stand up +to me bare-fisted. I want one chance before I go, to fight you, or any +of you, or all of you! Or, if you are afraid to fight that way, give +me a pistol--I never fired one until tonight--and let me shoot it out +with you. Surely men who swagger around with pistols in their belts, +and pride themselves on the use of them, ought not to be afraid to take +a chance against a man who has never but once fired one!" There was an +awkward pause and the pilgrim laughed harshly: "There isn't an ounce of +sporting blood among you! You hunt in packs like the wolves you +are--twenty to one--and that one with a rope around his neck and his +hands tied!" + +"The odds is a little against you," drawled the Texan. "Where might +you hail from?" + +"From a place where they breed men--not curs." + +"Ain't you afraid to die?" + +"Just order your hounds to jerk on that rope and I'll show you whether +or not I am afraid to die. But let me tell you this, you damned +murderer! If any harm comes to that girl--to Miss Marcum--may the +curse of God follow every last one of you till you are damned in a +fiery hell! You will kill me now, but you won't be rid of me. I'll +haunt you every one to your graves. I will follow you night and day +till your brains snap and you go howling to hell like maniacs." + +Several of the cowboys shuddered and turned away. Very deliberately +the Texan rolled a cigarette. + +"There is a box in my coat pocket, will you hand me one? Or is it +against the rules to smoke?" Without a word the Texan complied, and as +he held a match to the cigarette he stared straight into the man's +eyes: "You've started out good," he remarked gravely. "I'm just +wonderin' if you can play your string out." With which enigmatical +remark he turned to the cowboys: "The drinks are on me, boys. Jerk off +that rope, an' go back to town! An' remember, this lynchin' come off +as per schedule." + +Alone in the cottonwood grove, with little patches of moonlight +filtering through onto the new-sprung grass, the two men faced each +other. Without a word the cowboy freed the prisoner's hands. + +"Viewin' it through a lariat-loop, that way, the country looks better +to a man than what it really is," he observed, as the other stretched +his arms above his head. + +"What is the meaning of all this? The lynching would have been an +atrocious injustice, but if you did not intend to hang me why should +you have taken the trouble to bring me out here?" + +"'Twasn't no trouble at all. The main thing was to get you out of Wolf +River. The lynchin' part was only a joke, an' that's on us. You bein' +a pilgrim, that way, we kind of thought----" + +"A what?" + +"A pilgrim, or tenderfoot, or greener or chechako, or counter-jumper, +owin' to what part of the country you misfit into. We thought you +wouldn't have no guts, an' we'd----" + +"Any what?" + +The Texan regarded the other hopelessly. "Oh hell!" he muttered +disgustedly. "Can't you talk no English? Where was you raised?" + +The other laughed. "Go on, I will try to follow you." + +"I can't chop 'em up no finer than one syllable. But I'll shorten up +the dose sufficient for your understandin' to grasp. It's this way: +D'you know what a frame-up is?" + +Endicott nodded. + +"Well, Choteau County politics is in such a condition of onwee that a +hangin' would be a reg'lar tonic for the party that's in; which it's +kind of bogged down into an old maid's tea party. Felonious +takin's-off has be'n common enough, but there hasn't no hangin's +resulted, for the reason that in every case the hangee has got friends +or relations of votin' influence. Now, along comes you without no +votin' connections an' picks off Purdy, which he's classed amongst +human bein's, an' is therefore felonious to kill. There ain't nothin' +to it. They'd be poundin' away on the scaffold an' testin' the rope +while the trial was goin' on. Besides which you'd have to linger in a +crummy jail for a couple of months waitin' for the grand jury to set on +you. A few of us boys seen how things was framed an' we took the +liberty to turn you loose, not because we cared a damn about you, but +we'd hate to see even a snake hung fer killin' Purdy which his folks +done a wrong to humanity by raisin' him. + +"The way the thing is now, if the boys plays the game accordin' to +Hoyle, there won't be no posses out huntin' you 'cause folks will all +think you was lynched. But even if they is a posse or two, which the +chances is there will be, owin' to the loosenin' effect of spiritorious +licker on the tongue, which it will be indulged in liberal when that +bunch hits town, we can slip down into the bad lands an' lay low for a +while, an' then on to the N. P. an' you can get out of the country." + +Endicott extended his hand: "I thank you," he said. "It is certainly +white of you boys to go out of your way to help a perfect stranger. I +have no desire to thrust my neck into a noose to further the ends of +politics. One experience of the kind is quite sufficient." + +"Never mind oratin' no card of thanks. Just you climb up into the +middle of that bronc an' we'll be hittin' the trail. We got quite some +ridin' to do before we get to the bad lands--an' quite some after." + +Endicott reached for the bridle reins of his horse which was cropping +grass a few feet distant. + +"But Alice--Miss Marcum!" With the reins in his hand he faced the +Texan. "I must let her know I am safe. She will think I have been +lynched and----" + +"She's goin' along," interrupted the Texan, gruffly. + +"Going along!" + +"Yes, she was bound to see you through because what you done was on her +account. Bat an' her'll be waitin' for us at Snake Creek crossin'." + +"Who is Bat?" + +"He's a breed." + +"A what?" + +"Wait an' see!" growled Tex. "Come on; we can't set here 'til you get +educated. You'd ought to went to school when you was young." + +Endicott reached for a stirrup and the horse leaped sidewise with a +snort of fear. Again and again the man tried to insert a foot into the +broad wooden stirrup, but always the horse jerked away. Round and +round in a circle they went, while the Texan sat in his saddle and +rolled a cigarette. + +"Might try the other one," he drawled, as he struck a match. "Don't +you know no better than to try to climb onto a horse on the right-hand +side? You must of be'n brought up on G-Dots." + +"What's a G-Dot?" + +"There you go again. Do I look like a school-marm? A G-Dot is an +Injun horse an' you can get on 'em from both sides or endways. Come +on; Snake Creek crossin' is a good fifteen miles from here, an' we +better pull out of this coulee while the moon holds." + +Endicott managed to mount, and gathering up the reins urged his horse +forward. But the animal refused to go and despite the man's utmost +efforts, backed farther and farther into the brush. + +"Just shove on them bridle reins a little," observed the Texan dryly. +"I think he's swallerin' the bit. What you got him all yanked in for? +D'you think the head-stall won't hold the bit in? Or ain't his mouth +cut back far enough to suit you? These horses is broke to be rode with +a loose rein. Give him his head an' he'll foller along." + +A half-mile farther up the coulee, the Texan headed up a ravine that +led to the level of the bench, and urging his horse into a long +swinging trot, started for the mountains. Mile after mile they rode, +the cowboy's lips now and then drawing into their peculiar smile as, +out of the corner of his eye he watched the vain efforts of his +companion to maintain a firm seat in the saddle. "He's game, though," +he muttered, grudgingly. "He rides like a busted wind-mill an' it must +be just tearin' hell out of him but he never squawks. An' the way he +took that hangin'---- If he'd be'n raised right he'd sure made some +tough hand. An' pilgrim or no pilgrim, the guts is there." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE FLIGHT + +When the Texan had departed Bat Lajune eyed the side-saddle with +disgust. "Dat damn t'ing, she ain' no good. A'm git de reg'lar +saddle." + +Slowly he pushed open the side door of the hotel and paused in the +darkened hallway to stare at the crack of yellow light that showed +beneath the door of Number 11. + +"A'm no lak' dis fool 'roun' wit' 'omen." He made a wry face and +knocked gingerly. + +Jennie Dodds opened the door, and for a moment eyed the half-breed with +frowning disfavour. + +"Look a here, Bat Lajune, is this on the level? They say you're the +squarest Injun that ever swung a rope. But Injun or white, you're a +man, an' I wouldn't trust one as far as I could throw a mule by the +tail." + +"Mebbe-so you lak' you com' 'long an' see, eh?" + +"I got somethin' else to do besides galavantin' 'round the country +nights with cowboys an' Injuns." + +The half-breed laughed and turned to Alice. "Better you bor' some +pants for ride de horse. Me, A'm gon' git nudder saddle. 'Fore you +ride little ways you bre'k you back." + +"Go over to the livery barn an' tell Ross to put my reg'lar saddle on +in place of the side-saddle, an' when you come back she'll be ready." +Jennie Dodds slipped from the room as the outer door closed upon the +half-breed's departure, and returned a few minutes later with her own +riding outfit, which she tossed onto the bed. + +"Jest you climb into them, dearie," she said. "Bat's right. Them +side-saddles is sure the dickens an' all, if you got any ways to go." + +"But," objected Alice, "I can't run off with all your things this way!" +She reached for her purse. "I'll tell you, I'll buy them from you, +horse and all!" + +"No you won't, no such thing!" Jennie Dodds assumed an injured tone. +"Pity a body can't loan a friend nuthin' without they're offered to git +payed for it. You can send the clothes back when you're through with +'em. An' here's a sack. Jest stick what you need in that. It'll tie +on behind your saddle, an' you can leave the rest of your stuff here in +your grip an I'll ship it on when you're ready for it. Better leave +them night-gowns an' corsets an' such like here. You ain't goin' to +find no use for 'em out there amongst the prickly pears an' sage brush. +Law me! I don't envy you your trip none! I'd jest like to know what +for devilment that Tex Benton's up to. Anyways, you don't need to be +afraid of him--like Purdy. But men is men, an' you got to watch 'em." + +As the girl chattered on she helped Alice to dress for the trail and +when the "war-bag" was packed and tied with a stout cord, the girl +crossed to the window and drew back the shade. + +"The Injun's back. You better be goin'." The girl slipped a small +revolver from her pocket and pressed it into Alice's hand. "There's a +pocket for it in the bloomers. Cinnabar Joe give it to me a long time +ago. Take care of yourself an' don't be afraid to use it if you have +to. An' mind you let me hear jest the minute you git anywheres. I'll +be a-dyin' to know what become of you." + +Alice promised and as she passed through the door, leaned swiftly and +kissed the girl squarely upon the lips. + +"Good-bye," she whispered. "I won't forget you," and the next moment +she stepped out to join the waiting half-breed, who with a glance of +approval at her costume, took the bag from her hand and proceeded to +secure it behind the cantle. The girl mounted without assistance, and +snubbing the lead-rope of the pack-horse about the horn of his saddle, +the half-breed led off into the night. + +Hour after hour they rode in silence, following a trail that wound in +easy curves about the bases of hillocks and small buttes, and dipped +and slanted down the precipitous sides of deep coulees where the +horses' feet splashed loudly in the shallow waters of fords. As the +moon dipped lower and lower, they rode past the darkened buildings of +ranches nestled beside the creeks, and once they passed a band of sheep +camped near the trail. The moonlight showed a sea of grey, woolly +backs, and on a near-by knoll stood a white-covered camp-wagon, with a +tiny lantern burning at the end of the tongue. A pair of hobbled +horses left off snipping grass beside the trail and gazed with mild +interest as the two passed, and beneath the wagon a dog barked. At +length, just as the moon sank from sight behind the long spur of Tiger +Butte, the trail slanted into a wide coulee from the bottom of which +sounded the tinkle of running water. + +"Dis Snake Creek," remarked the Indian; "better you git off now an' +stretch you leg. Me, A'm mak' de blanket on de groun' an' you ketch-um +little sleep. Mebbe-so dem com' queek--mebbe-so long tam'." + +Even as he talked the man spread a pair of new blankets beside the +trail and walking a short distance away seated himself upon a rock and +lighted a cigarette. + +With muscles aching from the unaccustomed strain of hours in the +saddle, Alice threw herself upon the blankets and pillowed her head on +the slicker that the half-breed had folded for the purpose. Almost +immediately she fell asleep only to awake a few moments later with +every bone in her body registering an aching protest at the unbearable +hardness of her bed. In vain she turned from one side to the other, in +an effort to attain a comfortable position. With nerves shrieking at +each new attitude, all thought of sleep vanished and the girl's brain +raced madly over the events of the past few hours. Yesterday she had +sat upon the observation platform of the overland train and complained +to Endicott of the humdrum conventionality of her existence! Only +yesterday--and it seemed weeks ago. The dizzy whirl of events that had +snatched her from the beaten path and deposited her somewhere out upon +the rim of the world had come upon her so suddenly and with such +stupendous import that it beggared any attempt to forecast its outcome. +With a shudder she recalled the moment upon the verge of the bench when +in a flash she had realized the true character of Purdy and her own +utter helplessness. With a great surge of gratitude--and--was it only +gratitude--this admiration and pride in the achievement of the man who +had rushed to her rescue? Alone there in the darkness the girl flushed +to the roots of her hair as she realized that it was for this man she +had unhesitatingly and unquestioningly ridden far into the night in +company with an unknown Indian. Realized, also, that above the pain of +her tortured muscles, above the uncertainty of her own position, was +the anxiety and worry as to the fate of Endicott. Where was he? Had +Tex lied when he told her there would be no lynching? Even if he +desired could he prevent the cowboys from wreaking their vengeance upon +the man who had killed one of their number? She recalled with a +shudder the cold cynicism of the smile that habitually curled the lips +of the Texan. A man who could smile like that could lie--could do +anything to gain an end. And yet--she realized with a puzzled frown +that in her heart was no fear of him--no terror such as struck into her +very soul at the sudden unmasking of Purdy. "It's his eyes," she +murmured; "beneath his cynical exterior lies a man of finer fibre." + +Some distance away a match flared in the darkness and went out, and +dimly by the little light of the stars Alice made out the form of the +half-breed seated upon his rock beside the trail. Motionless as the +rock itself the man sat humped over with his arms entwining his knees. +A sombre figure, and one that fitted intrinsically into the scene--the +dark shapes of the three horses that snipped grass beside the trail, +the soft murmur of the waters of the creek as they purled over the +stones, the black wall of the coulee, with the mountains rising +beyond--all bespoke the wild that since childhood she had pictured, but +never before had seen. Under any other circumstances the setting would +have appealed, would have thrilled her to the soul. But now--over and +over through her brain repeated the question: Where is he? + +A horse nickered softly and raising his head, sniffed the night air. +The Indian stepped from his rock and stood alert with his eyes on the +reach of the back-trail. And then softly, almost inaudibly to the ears +of the girl came the sound of horses' hoofs pounding the trail in +monotonous rhythm. + +Leaping to her feet she rushed forward in time to see Bat catch up the +reins of the three horses and slip noiselessly into the shelter of a +bunch of scrub willows. In a moment she was at his side and the Indian +thrust the reins into her hand. + +"Better you wait here," he whispered hurriedly. "Mebbe-so, som'wan +else com' 'long. Me, A'm gon' for look." With the words the man +blended into the shadows and, clutching the reins, the girl waited with +every nerve drawn tense. + +Nearer and nearer came the sound of the thudding hoofs. The riders had +reached the dip of the trail now and the rhythmic pound of the horses' +feet changed to a syncopated shuffle as the animals made the steep +descent. At the edge of the creek they paused for a moment and then +Alice, could hear the splash of their feet in the water and the deep +sucking sound of horses drinking. + +A low peculiar whistle cut the air and the next moment a voice which +the girl recognized as the Texan's sounded plainly through the dark. + +"You got here, did you? Where's the girl?" Alice could not catch the +answer but at the next words of the Texan she started forward tugging +at the reins of the refractory cayuses. + +"Come alive, now, an' get your outfit together. There's prob'ly a big +posse out an' we got to scratch gravel some lively to keep ahead of +'em, which little item the future prosperity of all concerned, as the +fellow says, depends on--not only the hangee here, but us accessories, +the law bein' some specific in outlinin' the disposal of aiders an' +abettors of felonious transmigrations." + +The half-breed relieved her of the horses and Alice rushed to the side +of Endicott who had reined his horse out of the water and dismounted +stiffly. + +"Oh, Winthrop!" she cried joyfully. "Then they didn't hang you, +and----" + +Endicott laughed: "No, they didn't hang me but they put a lot of local +colour into the preliminaries. I certainly thought my time had come, +when friend Tex here gave the word to throw off the rope." The girl +flashed a grateful glance into the face of the Texan who sat his horse +with the peculiar smile curling his lips. + +"Oh, how can I ever thank you?" she cried impulsively. "I think you +are just _splendid_! And I'll never, _never_ distrust you again. I've +been a perfect fool and----" + +"Yes," answered the man gruffly, and Alice noticed that the smile was +gone from his lips. "But you ain't out of the woods yet. Bat's got +that horse packed an' as soon as Winthrup, there, can crawl up the side +of that bronc we better be hittin' the trail. If we can make the +timber at the head of Cow Creek divide by daylight, we can slip down +into the bad lands tomorrow night." + +Endicott painfully raised a foot to the stirrup, and the Texan turned +abruptly to the girl. + +"Can you make it?" he asked. She replied with an eager affirmative and +the Texan shot her a glance of approval as he watched her mount, for +well he knew that she must have fared very little better than Endicott +in the matter of aching muscles. + +Mile after mile the four rode in silence, Tex in the lead with Bat +Lajune close by his side. An occasional backward glance revealed the +clumsy efforts of the pilgrim to ease himself in the saddle, and the +set look of determination upon the tired face of the girl. + +"Winthrup ain't wearin' well," thought the cowboy as his lips twisted +into a smile, "but what could you expect with a name like that? I'm +afraid Winthrup is goin' to wish I hadn't interfered none with his +demise, but he won't squawk, an' neither will she. There's the makin's +of a couple of good folks wasted in them two pilgrims," and he frowned +darkly at the recollection of the note of genuine relief and gladness +with which the girl had greeted Endicott; a frown that deepened at the +girl's impulsive words to himself, "I think you are just splendid. +I'll never distrust you again." "She's a fool!" he muttered under his +breath. At his side the half-breed regarded him shrewdly from under +the broad brim of his hat. + +"Dat girl she dam' fine 'oman. She got, w'at you call, de nerve." + +"It's a good thing it ain't daytime," growled the Texan surlily, "or +that there tongue of yourn would get sun-burnt the way you keep it +a-goin'." + +Upon the crest of a high foothill that is a spur of Tiger Ridge, Tex +swerved abruptly from the trail and headed straight for the mountains +that loomed out of the darkness. On and on he rode, keeping wherever +possible to the higher levels to avoid the fences of the nesters whose +fields and pastures followed the windings of the creek bottoms. + +Higher and higher they climbed and rougher grew the way. The scrub +willows gave place to patches of bull pine and the long stretches of +buffalo grass to ugly bare patches of black rock. In and out of the +scrub timber they wended, following deep coulees to their sources and +crossing steep-pitched divides into other coulees. The fences of the +nesters were left far behind and following old game trails, or no +trails at all, the Texan pushed unhesitatingly forward. At last, just +as the dim outlines of the mountains were beginning to assume definite +shape in the first faint hint of the morning grey, he pulled into a +more extensive patch of timber than any they had passed and dismounting +motioned the others to the ground. + +While the Texan prepared breakfast, Bat busied himself with the +blankets and when the meal was finished Alice found a tent awaiting +her, which the half-breed had constructed by throwing the pack-tarp +over a number of light poles whose ends rested upon a fallen +tree-trunk. Never in her life, thought the girl, as she sank into the +foot-thick mattress of pine boughs that underlay the blankets, had a +bed felt so comfortable, so absolutely satisfying. But her conscious +enjoyment of its comfort was short-lived for the sounds of men and +horses, and the low soughing of the wind in the pine-tops blended into +one, and she slept. Endicott, too, fell asleep almost as soon as he +touched the blankets which the half-breed had spread for him a short +distance back from the fire, notwithstanding the scant padding of pine +needles that interposed between him and mother earth. + +Beside the fire the half-breed helped Tex wash the dishes, the while he +regarded the cowpuncher shrewdly as if to fathom what was passing in +his mind. + +"Back in Wolf Rivaire, dey t'ink de pilgrim git hang. W'at for dey +mak' de posse?" he asked at length. The Texan finished washing the tin +plates, dried his hands, and rolled a cigarette, which he lighted +deliberately with a brand from the fire. + +"Bat," he said with a glance toward the sleeping Endicott, "me an' you +has be'n right good friends for quite a spell. You recollect them four +bits, back in Las Vegas--" The half-breed interrupted him with a grin +and reaching into his shirt front withdrew a silver half-dollar which +depended from his neck by a rawhide thong. + +"_Oui_, A'm don' git mooch chance to ferget dat four bit." + +"Well, then, you got to help me through with this here, like I helped +you through when you stole Fatty's horse." The half-breed nodded and +Tex continued: "When that outfit goes up against the Wolf River hooch +you can bet someone's going to leak it out that there wasn't no reg'lar +bony-fido hangin' bee. That'll start a posse, an' that's why we got to +stay _cached_ good an' tight till this kind of blows over an' gives us +a chance to slip acrost the Misszoo. Even if it don't leak out, an' +any one should happen to spot the pilgrim, that would start a posse, +_pronto_, an' we'd get ours for helpin' him to elope." + +"'Spose dey git de pilgrim," persisted the half-breed, "de, w'at you +call, de jury, dey say 'turn 'um loose' 'cause he keel dat Purdy for +try to----" + +Tex hurled his cigarette into the blaze. "You're a damn smart Injun, +ain't you? Well, you just listen to me. I'm runnin' this here little +outfit, an' there's reasons over an' above what I've orated, why the +pilgrim is goin' to be treated to a good lib'ral dose of the rough +stuff. If he comes through, he'll stack up pretty close to a top hand, +an' if he don't--" The Texan paused and scowled into the fire. "An' +if he don't it's his own damn fault, anyhow--an' there you are." + +The half-breed nodded, and in the dark eyes the Texan noted a +half-humorous, half-ominous gleam; "Dat, w'at you call, '_reason over +an' 'bove_', she damn fine 'oman. A'm t'ink she lak' de pilgrim more'n +you. But mebbe-so you show heem up for w'at you call, de yellow, you +git her 'way, but--me, A'm no lak' I see her git harm." With which +declaration the half-breed rose abruptly and busied himself with the +horses, while the Texan, without bothering to spread his blankets, +pulled his hat over his face and stretched out beside the fire. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A RESCUE + +When Alice Marcum opened her eyes the timber was in darkness. The moon +had not yet topped the divide and through an opening in the trees the +girl could see the dim outlines of an endless sea of peaks and ridges +that stretched away to the eastward. The voice of the Texan sounded in +her ears: "Come alive, now! We got to eat an' pull out of here in an +hour's time if we're goin' to fetch the bad lands by daylight." + +Peering around the edge of her shelter tent she could see him, +coffee-pot in hand, standing beside the tiny flame that licked at the +dry pine shavings of a newly kindled fire. + +He turned and made his way to the creek that burbled over the rocks a +short way down the ravine and Alice drew on her riding-boots and joined +Endicott who had made his way painfully toward the fire where he stood +gazing ruefully at the begrimed wreck of a white collar which he held +in his hand. The Texan returned and placed the coffee-pot close +against the tiny blaze. + +"When you get through invoicin' yer trooso, Winthrup, it wouldn't delay +us none if you'd grasp that there hand-ax an' carve out a little +fire-fodder." He glanced up at Alice. "An' if cookin' of any kind has +be'n inclooded in your repretwa of accomplishments, you might sizzle up +a hunk of that sow-belly, an' keep yer eye on this here pot. An' if +Winthrup should happen to recover from his locomotive attacksyou an' +hack off a limb or two, you can get a little bigger blaze a-goin' an', +just before that water starts to burn, slop in a fistful of java. +You'll find some dough-gods an' salve in one of them canvas bags, an' +when you're all set, holler. I'll throw the kaks on these cayuses, an' +Bat, he can wrastle with the pack." + +Alice looked into the Texan's face with a peculiar little puckering of +the brows, and laughed: "See here, Mr. Tex," she said, "of course, I +know that java must be coffee, but if you will kindly render the rest +of your remarks a little less caliginous by calling the grub by its +Christian name, maybe I'll get along better with the breakfast." + +The Texan was laughing now, a wholesome, hearty laugh in which was no +trace of cynicism, and the girl felt that for the first time she had +caught a glimpse of the real man, the boyish, whole-hearted man that +once or twice before she had suspected existed behind the mask of the +sardonic smile. From that moment she liked him and at the breezy +whimsicality of his next words she decided that it would be well worth +the effort to penetrate the mask. + +"The dude, or dictionary, names for the above specified commodities is +bacon, biscuits, an' butter. An' referrin' back to your own +etymological spasm, the word 'grub' shows a decided improvement over +anything you have uttered previous. I had expected 'food' an' wouldn't +have hardly batted an' eye at 'viands,' an' the caliginous part of it +is good, only, if you aim to obfuscate my convolutions you'll have to +dig a little deeper. Entirely irrelevant to syntax an' the allied +trades, as the feller says, I'll add that them leggin's of yourn is on +the wrong legs, an' here comes Winthrup with a chip." + +Turning abruptly, the man made his way toward the horses, and as +Endicott approached with an armful of firewood, the contrast between +the men was brought sharply to the girl's notice. The Texan, easy and +lithe of movement as an animal born to the wild, the very tilt of his +soft-brimmed hat and the set of his clothing bespeaking conscious +mastery of his environment--a mastery that the girl knew was not +confined to the subduing of wild cattle and horses and the following of +obscure trails in the nighttime. Never for a moment had the air of +self-confidence deserted him. With the same easy assurance that he had +flung his loop about the shoulders of the Mayor of Wolf River he had +carried off the honours of the tournament, insulted Purdy to his face, +dictated to the deputy sheriff, and planned and carried out the release +of Endicott from the grip of the law. And what was most surprising of +all, never had he shown a trace of the boorish embarrassment or +self-consciousness which, up to the moment of his brutal attack upon +her, had characterized the attitude of Purdy. And the girl realized +that beneath his picturesque slurring and slashing of English, was a +familiarity with words that had never been picked up in the cow-country. + +Endicott tossed down his wood, and Alice could not help but notice the +sorry appearance of the erstwhile faultlessly dressed gentleman who +stood collarless and unshaven, the once delicately lined silk shirt +filthy with trail dust, and the tailored suit wrinkled and misshapen as +the clothing of a tramp. She noted, too, that his movements were +awkward and slow with the pain of overtaxed muscles, and that the stiff +derby hat he had been forced to jam down almost to the tops of his ears +had left a grimy red band across his forehead. She smiled as her eyes +swept the dishevelled and uncouth figure. + +"I am glad," said Endicott with asperity, as he brushed the dirt and +bits of bark from his coat, "that you find the situation so humorous. +It must be highly gratifying to know that it is of your own making." + +The tone roused the girl's anger and she glanced up as she finished +lacing her leggings. + +"Yes," she answered, sweetly, "it is--very. And one of the most +amusing features is to watch how a man's disposition crabs with the +mussing of his clothing. No wonder the men who live out here wear +things that won't muss, or there wouldn't be but one left and he'd be +just a concentrated chunk of unadulterated venom. Really, Winthrop, +you do look horrid, and your disposition is perfectly nasty. But, +cheer up, the worst is yet to come, and if you will go down to the +creek and wash your hands, you can come back and help me with the grub. +You can get busy and dig the dough-gods and salve out of that sack +while I sizzle up the sow-belly." + +Endicott regarded her with a frown of disapproval: "Why this +preposterous and vulgar talk?" + +"Adaptability to environment," piped the girl, glibly. "You can't get +along by speaking New York in Montana, any easier than you can with +English in Cincinnati." + +Endicott turned away with a sniff of disgust, and the girl's lips drew +into a smile which she meant to be an exact replica of the Texan's as +she proceeded to slice strips of bacon into the frying-pan. + +The meal was a silent affair, and during its progress the moon rose +clear of the divide and hung, a great orange ball, above the high-flung +peaks. Almost simultaneously with the rising of the moon, the wind +rose, and scuds of cloud-vapour passed, low down, blurring the higher +peaks. + +"We got to get a move on," opined the Texan, with an eye on the clouds. +"Throw them dishes into the pack the way they are, an' we'll clean 'em +when we've got more time. There's a storm brewin' west of here an' we +want to get as far as we can before she hits." + +By the time the others were in the saddle, Bat was throwing the final +hitch on his pack outfit, and with the Texan in the lead, the little +cavalcade headed southward. + +An hour's climb, during which they skirted patches of scrub pine, +clattered over the loose rocks of ridges, and followed narrow, +brush-choked coulees to their sources, found them on the crest of the +Cow Creek divide. + +The wind, blowing half a gale from the south-east, whipped about their +faces and roared and whistled among the rocks and scrub timber. +Alice's eyes followed the Texan's glance toward the west and there, low +down on the serried horizon she could see the black mass of a cloud +bank. + +"You can't tell nothin' about those thunderheads. They might hold off +'til along towards mornin', they might pile up on us in an hour, and +they might not break at all," vouchsafed the man, as Alice reined in +her horse close beside his. + +"But the wind is from the other direction!" + +"Yes, it generally is when the thunder-storms get in their work. If we +can get past the Johnson fences we can take it easy an' camp most +anywhere when the storm hits, but if we get caught on this side without +no moonlight to travel by an' have to camp over tomorrow in some +coulee, there's no tellin' who'll run onto us. This south slope's +infested some plentiful by the riders of three or four outfits." He +headed his horse down the steep descent, the others following in single +file. + +As the coulee widened Alice found herself riding by the Texan's side. +"Oh, don't you just love the wild country!" she exclaimed, breaking a +long interval of silence. "The plains and the mountains, the woods and +the creeks, and the wonderful air----" + +"An' the rattlesnakes, an' the alkali, an' the soap-holes, an' the +quicksand, an' the cactus, an' the blisterin' sun, an' the lightnin', +an' the rain, an' the snow, an' the ice, an' the sleet----" + +The girl interrupted him with a laugh: "Were you born a pessimist, or +has your pessimism been acquired?" + +The Texan did not lift his eyes from the trail: "Earnt, I reckon, would +be a better word. An' I don't know as it's pessimism, at that, to look +in under the crust of your pie before you bite it. If you'd et flies +for blueberries as long as I have, you'd----" + +"I'd ask for flies, and then if there were any blueberries the surprise +would be a pleasant one." + +"Chances are, there wouldn't be enough berries to surprise you none +pleasant. Anyhow, that would be kind of forcin' your luck. Follerin' +the same line of reasoning a man ort to hunt out a cactus to set on +so's he could be surprised pleasant if it turned out to be a Burbank +one." + +"You're hopeless," laughed the girl. "But look--the moonlight on the +peaks! Isn't it wonderful! See how it distorts outlines, and throws a +mysterious glamour over the dark patches of timber. Corot would have +loved it." + +The Texan shook his head: "No. It wouldn't have got _to him_. He +couldn't never have got into the feel of stuff like that. Meakin did, +and Remington, but it takes old Charlie Russell to pick it right out of +the air an' slop it onto canvas." + +Alice regarded the man in wonder. "You do love it!" she said. "Why +should you be here if you didn't love it?" + +"Bein' a cow-hand, it's easier to make a livin' here than in New York +or Boston. I've never be'n there, but I judge that's the case." + +"But you are a cow-hand from choice. You have an education and you +could----" + +"No. All the education I've got you could pile onto a dime, an' it +wouldn't kill more'n a dozen men. Me an' the higher education flirted +for a couple of years or so, way back yonder in Austin, but owin' to +certain an' sundry eccentricities of mine that was frowned on by +civilization, I took to the brush an' learnt the cow business. Then +after a short but onmonotonous sojourn in Las Vegas, me an' Bat came +north for our health. . . . Here's Johnson's horse pasture. We've got +to slip through here an' past the home ranch in a quiet an' +onobstrusive manner if we aim to preserve the continuity of Winthrup's +spinal column." + +"Can't we go around?" queried the girl. + +"No. The coulee is fenced clean acrost an' way up to where even a goat +couldn't edge past. We've got to slip through. Once we get past the +big reservoir we're all right. I'll scout on ahead." + +The cowboy swung to the ground and threw open the barbed-wire gate. +"Keep straight on through, Bat, unless you hear from me. I'll be +waitin' by the bunk-house. Chances are, them salamanders will all be +poundin' their ear pretty heavy, bein' up all last night to the dance." +He galloped away and the others followed at a walk. For an hour no one +spoke. + +"I thought that fence enclosed a pasture, not a county," growled +Endicott, as he clumsily shifted his weight to bear on a spot less sore. + +"_Oui_, dat hoss pasture she 'bout seven mile long. Den we com' by de +ranch, an' den de reservoir, an' de hay fences." The half-breed opened +a gate and a short distance down the creek Alice made out the dark +buildings of the ranch. As they drew nearer the girl felt her heart +race madly, and the soft thud of the horse's feet on the sod sounded +like the thunder of a cavalry charge. Grim and forbidding loomed the +buildings. Not a light showed, and she pictured them peopled with +lurking forms that waited to leap out as they passed and throttle the +man who had rescued her from the brutish Purdy. She was sorry she had +been nasty to Endicott. She wanted to tell him so, but it was too +late. She thought of the revolver that Jennie had given her, and +slipping her hand into her pocket she grasped it by the butt. At +least, she could do for him what he had done for her. She could shoot +the first man to lay hands on him. + +Suddenly her heart stood still and her lips pressed tight. A rider +emerged from the black shadow of the bunk-house. + +"Hands up!" The girl's revolver was levelled at the man's head, and +the next instant she heard the Texan laugh softly. + +"Just point it the other way, please, if it's loaded. A fellow shot me +with one of those once an' I had a headache all the rest of the +evenin'." His horse nosed in beside hers. "It's just as I thought," +he explained. "Everyone around the outfit's dead to the world. Bein' +up all night dancin', an' most of the next day trailin' home, you +couldn't get 'em up for a poker game--let alone hangin' a pilgrim." + +Alice's fear vanished the moment the Texan appeared. His air of +absolute self-confidence in his ability to handle a situation compelled +the confidence of others. + +"Aren't your nerves ever shaken? Aren't you ever afraid?" she asked. + +Tex smiled: "Nerve ain't in not bein' afraid," he answered evasively, +"but in not lettin' folks know when you're afraid." + +Another gate was opened, and as they passed around the scrub-capped +spur of a ridge that projected into the widening valley, the girl drew +her horse up sharply and pointed ahead. + +"Oh! A little lake!" she cried enthusiastically. "See how the +moonlight shimmers on the tiny waves." + +Heavy and low from the westward came an ominous growl of thunder. + +"Yes. An' there'll be somethin' besides moonlight a-shimmerin' around +here directly. That ain't exactly a lake. It's Johnson's irrigation +reservoir. If we could get about ten miles below here before the storm +hits, we can hole up in a rock cave 'til she blows over. The creek +valley narrows down to a canyon where it cuts through the last ridge of +mountains. + +"Hit 'er up a little, Bat. We'll try an' make the canyon!" + +A flash of lightning illumined the valley, and glancing upward, Alice +saw that the mass of black clouds was almost overhead. The horses were +forced into a run as the hills reverberated to the mighty roll of the +thunder. They were following a well-defined bridle trail and scarcely +slackened their pace as they splashed in and out of the water where the +trail crossed and recrossed the creek. One lightning flash succeeded +another with such rapidity that the little valley was illuminated +almost to the brightness of day, and the thunder reverberated in one +continuous roar. + +With the buildings of Johnson's ranch left safely behind, Alice's +concern for Endicott's well-being cooled perceptibly. + +"He needn't to have been so hateful, just because I laughed at him," +she thought, and winced at a lightning flash. Her lips pressed +tighter. "I hate thunder-storms--to be out in them. I bet we'll all +be soaked and--" There was a blinding flash of light, the whole valley +seemed filled with a writhing, twisting rope of white fire, and the +deafening roar of thunder that came simultaneously with the flash made +the ground tremble. It was as though the world had exploded beneath +their feet, and directly in the forefront the girl saw a tall dead +cottonwood split in half and topple sidewise. And in the same instant +she caught a glimpse of Endicott's face. It was very white. "He's +afraid," she gritted, and at the thought her own fear vanished, and in +its place came a wild spirit of exhilaration. This was life. Life in +the raw of which she had read and dreamed but never before experienced. +Her horse stopped abruptly. The Texan had dismounted and was pulling +at the huge fragment of riven trunk that barred the trail. + +"We'll have to lead 'em around through the brush, there. We can't +budge this boy." + +Scattering rain-drops fell--huge drops that landed with a thud and +splashed broadly. + +"Get out the slickers, Bat. Quick now, or we're in for a wettin'." As +he spoke the man stepped to Alice's side, helped her to the ground, and +loosened the pack-strings of her saddle. A moment later he held a huge +oilskin of brilliant yellow, into the sleeves of which the girl thrust +her arms. There was an odour as of burning sulphur and she sniffed the +air as she buttoned the garment about her throat. + +The Texan grinned: "Plenty close enough I'll say, when you get a whiff +of the hell-fire. Better wait here 'til I find a way through the +brush. An' keep out of reach of the horse's heels with that slicker +on. You can't never trust a cayuse, 'specially when they can't more'n +half see. They're liable to take a crack at you for luck." + +Grasping his bridle reins the Texan disappeared and by the lightning +flashes she could see him forcing his way through the thicket of +willows. The scattering drops changed to a heavy downpour. The +moonlight had long since been obliterated and the short intervals +between the lightning flashes were spaces of intense blackness. A +yellow-clad figure scrambled over the tree trunk and the cowboy took +the bridle reins from her hand. + +"You slip through here. I'll take your horse around." + +On the other side, the cowboy assisted her to mount, and pulling his +horse in beside hers, led off down the trail. The rain steadily +increased in volume until the flashes of lightning showed only a grey +wall of water, and the roar of it blended into the incessant roar of +the thunder. The horses splashed into the creek and wallowed to their +bellies in the swirling water. + +The Texan leaned close and shouted to make himself heard. + +"They don't make 'em any worse than this. I've be'n out in some +considerable rainstorms, take it first an' last, but I never seen it +come down solid before. A fish could swim anywheres through this." + +"The creek is rising," answered the girl. + +"Yes, an' we ain't goin' to cross it many more times. In the canyon +she'll be belly-deep to a giraffe, an' we got to figure a way out of +the coulee 'fore we get to it." + +Alice was straining her ears to catch his words, when suddenly, above +the sound of his voice, above the roar of the rain and the crash and +roll of thunder, came another sound--a low, sullen growl--indefinable, +ominous, terrible. The Texan, too, heard the sound and, jerking his +horse to a standstill, sat listening. The sullen growl deepened into a +loud rumble, indescribably horrible. Alice saw that the Texan's face +was drawn into a tense, puzzled frown. A sudden fear gripped her +heart. She leaned forward and the words fairly shrieked from her lips. + +"It's the reservoir!" + +The Texan whirled to face the others whose horses had crowded close and +stood with drooping heads. + +"The reservoir's let go!" he shouted, and pointed into the grey wall of +water at right angles to their course. "Ride! Ride like hell an' save +yourselves! I'll look after her!" The next instant he whirled his +horse against the girl's. + +"Ride straight ahead!" he roared. "Give him his head an' hang on! +I'll stay at his flank, an' if you go down we'll take a chance +together!" + +Slipping the quirt from the horn of his saddle the cowboy brought it +down across her horse's flank and the animal shot away straight into +the opaque grey wall. Alice gave the horse a loose rein, set her lips, +and gripped the horn of her saddle as the brute plunged on. + +The valley was not wide. They had reached a point where its sides +narrowed to form the mouth of the canyon. The pound of the horse's +feet was lost in the titanic bombilation of the elements--the incessant +crash and rumble of thunder and the ever increasing roar of rushing +waters. At every jump the girl expected her frantic horse to go down, +yet she was conscious of no feeling of fear. She glanced over her +shoulder, but the terrific downpour acted as a curtain through which +her eyes could not penetrate with the aid even of the most vivid +flashes of lightning. Yet she knew that the Texan rode at her flank +and that the others followed--Endicott and Bat, with his pack-horse +close-snubbed to his saddle-horn. Suddenly the girl felt her horse +labouring. His speed slackened perceptibly. As abruptly as it started +the rain stopped; and she saw that water was swirling about his knees. +Saw also by the aid of a lightning flash that throughout its width the +valley was a black sea of tossing water. Before her the bank was very +close and she jerked her horse toward a point where the perpendicular +sides of a cutbank gave place to a narrow plane that slanted steeply +upward. It seemed to the girl that the steep ascent would be +impossible for the horses but it was the only chance. She glanced +backward. The Texan was close behind, and following him were the +others, their horses wallowing to their bellies. She had reached the +hill and so steep was its pitch that her horse seemed perpendicular to +the earth's surface. She leaned over the horn and twisted her fingers +into his mane as the animal, his feet clear of the water, clawed and +scrambled like a cat to gain the top. Another moment and he had pulled +himself over the edge and the girl leaped to the ground. The Texan had +not followed to the top but had halted his horse at the edge of the +water that was mounting steadily higher. Bat swung in with his pack +horse and with his quirt Tex forced them up the embankment. Endicott's +horse was all but swimming. The water came above the man's knees as +the animal fought for footing. The Texan leaned far out and, grasping +the bridle, drew him in to the bank and quirted him to the top. Then, +as the three watched, he headed his own horse upward. Scarcely had the +animal come clear of the water when the eager watchers saw that +something was wrong. + +"De cinch--she bus'!" cried the half-breed excitedly. "Dat dam' Purdy +cut de cinch an' A'm trade Tex mine for ride de outlaw, an' we trade +back. _Voila_!" As the man talked, he jerked the coiled rope from his +saddle and rushed to the edge. Alice, too, crowded to the bank, her +hands tight clenched as she saw the man, the saddle gone from under +him, clinging desperately to the bridle reins, his body awash in the +black waters. Saw also that his weight on the horse's head was causing +the animal to quit the straight climb and to plunge and turn +erratically. It was evident that both horse and rider must be hurled +into the flood. The fury of the storm had passed. The rumble of +thunder was distant now. The flashes of lightning came at greater +intervals, and with a pale glow instead of the dazzling brilliance of +the nearer flashes. Through a great rift in the cloud-bank the moon +showed, calm and serene above the mad rush of black waters. + +For a single instant Alice gazed into the up-turned face of the Texan, +and in that instant she saw his lips curve into the familiar cynical +smile. Then he calmly let go the reins and slipped silently beneath +the black water, as the released horse scrambled to the top. Beside +her, Endicott uttered an oath and, tearing at the buttons of his +slicker, dashed the garment to the ground. His coat followed, and +stooping he tore the shoes from his feet and poised on the very edge of +the flood. With a cry she sprang to his side and gripped his arm, but +without a word he shook her roughly away, and as a dark form appeared +momentarily upon the surface of the flood he plunged in. + +Alice and Bat watched as the moonlight showed the man swimming with +strong, sure strokes toward the spot where a moment before the dark +form had appeared upon the surface. Then he dived, and the +swift-rushing water purled and gurgled as it closed over the spot where +he had been. Rope in hand, Bat, closely followed by the girl, ran +along the edge of the bank, both straining their eyes for the first +sign of movement upon the surface of the flood. Would he never come +up? The slope up which the horses had scrambled steepened into a +perpendicular cut-bank at no great distance below, and if the current +bore the two men past that point the girl knew instinctively that +rescue would be impossible and they would be swept into the vortex of +the canyon. + +There was a cry from Bat, and Alice, struggling to keep up, caught a +blur of motion upon the surface some distance below. A few steps +brought them opposite to the point, where, scarcely thirty feet from +the bank, two forms were struggling violently. Suddenly an arm raised +high, and a doubled fist crashed squarely against the jaw of a white, +upturned face. The half-breed poised an instant and threw his rope. +The wide loop fell true and a moment later Endicott succeeded in +passing it under the arms of the unconscious Texan. Then the rope drew +taut and the halfbreed braced to the pull as the men were forced +shoreward by the current. + +With a cry of relief, Alice rushed to the aid of the half-breed, and +grasping the rope, threw her weight into the pull. But her relief was +short-lived, for when the forms in the water touched shore it was to +brush against the side of the cut-bank with tea feet of perpendicular +wall above them. And worse than, that, unhardened to the wear of +water, the bank was caving off in great chunks as the current gnawed at +its base. A section weighing tons let go with a roar only a few yards +below, and Bat and the girl worked as neither had ever worked before to +tow their burden upstream to the sloping bank. But the force of the +current and the conformation of the bank, which slanted outward at an +angle that diminished the force of the pull by half, rendered their +efforts in vain. + +"You stan' back!" ordered Bat sharply, as a section of earth gave way +almost beneath their feet, but the girl paid no attention, and the two +redoubled their efforts. + +In the water, Endicott took in the situation at a glance. He realized +that the strain of the pull was more than the two could overcome. +Realized also that each moment added to the Jeopardy of the half-breed +and the girl. There was one chance--and only one. Relieved of his +weight, the unresisting form of the Texan could be dragged to +safety--and he would take that chance. + +"_Non_! _Non_!" The words were fairly hurled from the half-breed's +lips, as he seemed to divine what was passing in Endicott's mind. But +Endicott gave no heed. Deliberately he let go the rope and the next +moment was whirled from sight, straight toward the seething vortex of +the canyon, where the moonlight revealed dimly in the distance only a +wild rush of lashing waters and the thrashing limbs of uprooted trees. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +TEX DOES SOME SCOUTING + +The moon hung low over the peaks to the westward when the Texan opened +his eyes. For some moments he stared about him in bewilderment, his +gaze travelling slowly from the slicker-clad form of the girl, who sat +close beside him with her face buried in her arms, to the little group +of horses that stood huddled dejectedly together. With an effort he +struggled to his elbow, and at the movement, the girl raised her head +and turned a very white face toward him. + +Shivering with cold, the Texan raised himself to a sitting posture. +"Where's Bat?" he asked. "An' why ain't he onsaddled those horses, an' +built a fire? I'm froze stiff." + +"Bat has gone to--to find Winthrop," answered the girl, with a painful +catch in her voice. "He wouldn't wait, and I had no matches, and yours +were all wet, and I couldn't loosen the cinches." + +Tex passed his hand over his forehead, as if trying to remember, and +his fingers prodded tenderly at his jaw. "I recollect bein' in the +water, an' the pilgrim was there, an' we were scrappin' an' he punched +me in the jaw. He carries a whallop up his sleeve like the kick of a +mule. But what we was scrappin' about, an' where he is now, an' how I +come here, is somethin' I don't savvy." + +Step by step the girl detailed what had happened while the Texan +listened in silence. "And now," she concluded, "he's gone. Just +when--" her voice broke and once more she buried her face in her arms. +Tex saw that she was sobbing silently. He felt for his "makings" and +drew from his pocket a little sack of soggy tobacco and some wet +papers. He returned them to his pocket and rose to his feet. + +"You're cold," he said softly. "There's dry matches in the pack. I'll +make a fire an' get those wet saddles off the horses." + +Alice did not look up and the man busied himself with the pack. A few +minutes later she felt his fingers upon her shoulder. He pointed +toward a fire that crackled cheerfully from the depths of a bull pine +thicket. "I fixed you up a shelter tent and spread your blankets. The +tarp kep' 'em tolerable dry. Go over there an' get off those clothes. +You must be wet through--nothin' short of a divin' suit would have kep' +that rain out!" + +"But----" + +He forestalled the objection. "There won't be any one to bother you. +I'm goin' down the creek." + +The girl noticed that his horse, saddled with Endicott's saddle stood +close behind her. + +"I didn't mean that!" she exclaimed. "But you are cold--chilled to the +bone. You need the fire more than I do." + +The man shook his head: "I'll be goin' now," he said. "You'd better +make you some coffee." + +"You're going to--to----" + +Tex nodded: "Yes. To find the pilgrim. If he's alive I'll find him. +An' if he ain't I'll find him. An' when I do, I'll bring him back to +you." He turned abruptly, swung onto his horse, and Alice watched him +as he disappeared down the valley, keeping to the higher ground. Not +until she was alone did the girl realize how miserably cold and +uncomfortable she was. She rose stiffly, and walking slowly to the +edge of the bank, looked out over the little valley. The great +reservoir had run out in that first wild rush of water and now the last +rays of moonlight showed only wide, glistening pools, and the creek +subsided to nearly its normal proportions. With a shudder she turned +toward the fire. Its warmth felt grateful. She removed the slicker +and riding costume and, wrapping herself, squaw-like, in a blanket, sat +down in the little shelter tent. She found that the Texan had filled +the coffee pot and, throwing in some coffee, she set it to boil. + +"He's so thoughtful, and self-reliant, and--and competent," she +murmured. "And he's brave, and--and picturesque. Winthrop is brave, +too--just as brave as he is, but--he isn't a bit picturesque." She +relapsed into silence as she rummaged in the bag for a cup, and the +sugar, and a can of milk. The moon sank behind the ridge and the girl +replenished her fire from the pile of wood the Texan had left within +reach of her hand. She drank her coffee and her eyes sought to +penetrate the blackness beyond the firelight. Somewhere out there in +the dark--she shuddered as she attempted to visualize _what_ was +somewhere out there in the dark. And then a flash of memory brought +with it a ray of hope that cheered her immeasurably. "Why, he was a +champion swimmer in college," she said aloud. "He was always winning +cups and things. And he's strong, and brave--and yet----" Vividly to +her mind came the picture of the wildly rushing flood with its burden +of tossing trees, and the man being swept straight into the gurge of +it. "I'll tell him he's brave--and he'll spoil it all by saying that +it was the only _practical_ thing to do." "Oh," she cried aloud, "I +could love him if it were not for his deadly practicability--even if I +should have to live in Cincinnati." And straightway fell to comparing +the two men. "Tex is absurdly unconventional in speech and actions, +and he has an adorable disregard for laws and things. He's just a big, +irresponsible boy--and yet, he makes you feel as if he always knew +exactly what to do and how to do it. And he is brave, too, with a +reckless, devil-may-care sort of bravery that takes no thought of cost +or consequences. He knew, when he let go his bridle reins, that he +couldn't swim a stroke--and he smiled and didn't care. And he's gentle +and considerate, too." She remembered the look in his eyes when he +said: "You are cold," and blushed furiously. + +It seemed hours she sat there staring into the little fire and +listening for sounds from the dark. But the only sounds that came to +her were the sounds of the feeding horses, and in utter weariness she +lay back with her head upon a folded blanket, and slept. + +When the Texan swung onto his horse after having made the girl +comfortable for her long vigil, a scant half-hour of moonlight was left +to him. He gave the horse his head and the animal picked his way among +the loose rocks and scrub timber that capped the ridge. When darkness +overtook him he dismounted, unsaddled, and groped about for firewood. +Despite its recent soaking the resinous bull pine flared up at the +touch of a match, and with his back to a rock-wall, the cowboy sat and +watched the little flames shoot upward. Once more he felt for his +"makings" and with infinite pains dried out his papers and tobacco. + +"It's the chance I be'n aimin' to make for myself," he mused, as he +drew the grey smoke of a cigarette deep into his lungs, "to get Bat an' +the pilgrim away--an' I ride off and leave it." The cigarette was +consumed and he rolled another. "Takin' a slant at himself from the +inside, a man kind of gets a line on how damned ornery folks can get. +Purdy got shot, an' everyone said he got just what was comin' to +him---- Me, an' everyone else--an' he did. But when you get down to +cases, he wasn't no hell of a lot worse'n me, at that. We was both +after the same thing--only his work was coarser." For hours the man +sat staring into his fire, the while he rolled and smoked many +cigarettes. + +"Oh, hell!" he exclaimed, aloud. "I can't turn nester, an' even if I +did, she couldn't live out in no mud-roof shack in the bottom of some +coulee! Still, she---- There I go again, over the same old trail. +This here little girl has sure gone to my head--like a couple of jolts +of hundred-proof on an empty stummick. Anyhow, she's a damn sight +safer'n ever she was before, an'--I'll bet the old man _would_ let me +take that Eagle Creek ranch off his hands, an' stake me to a little +bunch of stock besides, if I went at him right. If it wasn't for that +damn pilgrim! Bat was right. He holds the edge on me--but he's a +man." The cowboy glanced anxiously toward the east where the sky was +beginning to lighten with the first hint of dawn. He rose, trampled +out his fire, and threw the saddle onto his horse. "I've got to find +him," he muttered, "if Bat ain't found him already. I don't know much +about this swimmin' business but if he could have got holt of a tree or +somethin' he might have made her through." + +Now riding, now dismounting to lead his horse over some particularly +rough outcropping of rocks, or through an almost impenetrable tangle of +scrub, the man made his way over the divide and came down into the +valley amid a shower of loose rock and gravel, at a point some distance +below the lower end of the canyon. + +The mountains were behind him. Only an occasional butte reared its +head above the sea of low foothills that stretched away into the bad +lands to the southward. The sides of the valley flattened and became +ill-defined. Low ridges and sage-topped foothills broke up its +continuity, so that the little creek that started so bravely from the +mountains ended nowhere, its waters being sucked in by the parched and +thirsting alkali soil long before it reached the bad lands. + +As his horse toiled ankle-deep in the soft whitish mud, Tex's eyes +roved over the broadened expanse of the valley. Everywhere were +evidences of the destructive force of the flood. Uprooted trees +scattered singly and in groups, high-flung masses of brush, hay, and +inextricably tangled barbed-wire from which dangled fence-posts marked +every bend of the creek bed. And on every hand the bodies of drowned +cattle dotted the valley. + +"If I was Johnson," he mused, as his eyes swept the valley, "I'd head a +right smart of ranch hands down here heeled with a spade an' a sexton's +commission. These here late lamented dogies'll cost him somethin' in +damages." From force of habit the man read the brands of the dead +cattle as he rode slowly down the valley. "D bar C, that's old Dave +Cromley's steer. An' there's a T U, an' an I X cow, an' there's one of +Charlie Green's, an' a yearlin' of Jerry Keerful's, an' a +quarter-circle M,--that belongs over the other side, they don't need to +bother with that one, an' there's a----" + +Suddenly he drew himself erect, and rising to stand in the stirrups, +gazed long and intently toward a spot a quarter of a mile below, where +a thin column of smoke curled over the crest of a low ridge. Abruptly +he lost interest in the brands of dead cattle and headed his horse at a +run toward a coulee, that gave between two sage covered foothills only +a short distance from the faint column of smoke. "That might be Bat, +an' then again it mightn't," he muttered. "It can't be the pilgrim +without Bat's along, 'cause he wouldn't have no dry matches. An' if +it's any one else--" he drew up sharply in the shelter of a thicket, +dismounted, and made his way on foot to the summit of the ridge. +Removing his hat, he thrust his head through a narrow opening between +two sage bushes, and peered into the hollow beyond. Beside a little +fire sat Bat and the pilgrim, the latter arrayed in a suit of underwear +much abbreviated as to arms and legs, while from the branches of a +broken tree-top drawn close beside the blaze depended a pair of +mud-caked trousers and a disreputably dirty silk shirt. The Texan +picked his way down the hill, slipping and sliding in the soft mud. + +"Breakfast about ready?" he asked, with a grin. + +"Breakfas'! _Voila_! A'm lak' A'm got som' breakfas', you bet! +Me--A'm gon' for cut de chonk of meat out de dead steer but de pilgrim +say: '_Non_, dat bes' we don' eat de damn drownded cattle--dat better +we sta've firs'!" + +Tex laughed: "Can't stand for the drownded ones, eh? Well I don't know +as I blame you none, they might be some soggy." Reaching into his +shirt-front he produced a salt bag which he tossed to Endicott. +"Here's some sinkers I fetched along. Divide 'em up. I've et. It +ain't no great ways back to camp----" + +"How is she--Miss Marcum? Did she suffer from the shock?" + +"Nary suffer. I fixed her up a camp last night back in the timber +where we all landed, an' then came away." + +"She spent the night alone in the timber!" cried Endicott. + +The Texan nodded. "Yes. There ain't nothin' will bother her. I +judged it to be the best way." Endicott's hand shot out and the +cowboy's met it in a firm grip. "I reckon we're fifty-fifty on that," +he said gravely. "How's the swimmin'?" + +Endicott laughed: "Fine--only I didn't have to do a great deal of it. +I staged a little riding contest all my own, part of the way on a dead +cow, and the rest of it on this tree-trunk. I didn't mind that part of +it--that was fun, but it didn't last over twenty minutes. After the +tree grounded, I had to tramp up and down through this ankle-deep mud +to keep from freezing. I didn't dare to go any place for fear of +getting lost. I thought at first, when the water went down I would +follow back up the valley, but I couldn't find the sides and after one +or two false starts I gave it up. Then Bat showed up at daylight and +we managed to build a fire." Endicott divided the biscuits and +proceeded to devour his share. + +Tex rolled a cigarette. "Say," he drawled, when he had lighted it with +a twig from the fire, "what the hell did you whallop me in the jaw for? +I seen it comin' but I couldn't dodge, an' when she hit--it seemed like +I was all tucked away in my little crib, an' somewhere, sweet voices +was singin'." + +"I had to do it," laughed Endicott. "It was that, or both of us going +to the bottom. You were grabbing for my arms and legs." + +"I ain't holdin' it against you," grinned Tex. "The arms an' legs is +yours, an' you're welcome to 'em. Also I'm obliged to you for +permittin' me to tarry a spell longer on this mundane spear, as the +fellow says, even if I can't chew nothin' harder'n soup." + +"Would you mind rolling me a cigarette," grinned Endicott, as he +finished the last of the biscuits. "I never tried it, and I am afraid +I would bungle the job." Without hesitation the Texan complied, deftly +interposing his body so that the pilgrim could not see that the tobacco +he poured into the paper was the last in his sack. He extended the +little cylinder. "When you get that lit, you better crawl into them +clothes of yours an' we'll be hittin' the back-trail. Out here in the +open ain't no place for us to be." + +Endicott surveyed his sorry outfit with disfavour. "I would rather +stick to the B.V.D.'s, if it were practical." + +"B.V.D., B.V.D.," repeated the Texan. "There ain't no such brand on +this range. Must be some outfit south of here--what did you say about +it?" + +"I said my B.V.D.'s," he indicated his under-garments; "these would be +preferable to those muddy trousers and that shirt." + +"Oh, that's the brand of your longerie. Don't wear none myself, except +in winter, an' then thick ones. I've scrutinized them kind, though, +more or less thorough--hangin' on lines around nesters' places an' home +ranches, when I'd be ridin' through. Never noticed none with B.V.D. on +'em, though. The brand most favoured around here has got XXXX FLOUR +printed acrost the broad of 'em, an' I've always judged 'em as +belongin' to the opposin' sect." + +Endicott chuckled as he gingerly arrayed himself in the damp garments +and when he was dressed, Tex regarded him quizzically: "Them belongin's +of yourn sure do show neglect, Win." Endicott started at the word. It +was the first time any one had abbreviated his name, and instantly he +remembered the words of Alice Marcum: "If you keep on improving some +day somebody is going to call you Win." He smiled grimly. "I must be +improving," he muttered, under his breath, "I would pass anywhere for a +tramp." From beyond the fire Tex continued his scrutiny, the while he +communed with himself: "Everything's fair, et cetry, as the fellow +says, an' it's a cinch there ain't no girl goin' to fall no hell of a +ways for any one rigged out like a last year's sheepherder. But, damn +it! he done me a good turn--an' one that took guts to do. 'Tain't no +use in chasin' the devil around the stump---- If I can get that girl +I'm a-goin' to get her! If I do I'll wire in some creek an' turn +nester or do any other damned thing that's likewise mean an' debasin' +that she wants me to--except run sheep. But if the pilgrim's got the +edge, accordin' to Bat's surmise, he's got it fair an' square. The +cards is on the table. It's him or me for it--but from now on the +game's on the level." + +Aloud he said: "Hope you don't mind havin' your name took in vain like +I done, but it's a habit of mine to get names down to a workin' basis +when I've got to use 'em frequent. Bat, there, his folks started him +off with a name that sounded like the Nicene Creed, but we bobbed her +down for handy reference, an' likewise I ain't be'n called Horatio +since the paternal roof-tree quit sproutin' the punitive switch. But, +to get down to cases, you fellows have got to hike back to the camp an' +hole up 'til dark. There's bound to be someone ridin' this here coulee +an' you got to keep out of sight. I'm goin' to do a little scoutin', +an' I'll join you later. It ain't only a couple of miles or so an' you +better hit for the high ground an' cross the divide. Don't risk goin' +through the canyon." + +Endicott glanced apprehensively at his mud encased silk socks, the feet +of which were already worn through in a dozen places. + +"Where's your slippers!" asked Tex, catching the glance. + +"My shoes? I threw them away last night before I took to the water." + +"It's just as well. They wasn't any good anyhow. The ground's soft +with the rain, all you got to watch out for is prickly pears an' +rattlesnakes. You'll be close to camp before the rocks get bad an' +then Bat can go hunt up your slippers an' fetch 'em out to you." The +Texan started for his horse. At the top of the ridge he turned: "I'll +stop an' tell her that you'll be along in a little bit," he called, and +swinging into the saddle, struck off up the creek. + +The habitual cynical smile that curled his lips broadened as he rode. +"This here Johnson, now, he likes me like he likes a saddle-galded +boil, ever since I maintained that a rider was hired to ride, an' not +to moil, an' quit his post-hole-diggin', hay-pitchin', tea-drinkin' +outfit, short-handed. I ain't had no chance to aggravate him real +good, outside of askin' him how his post-holes was winterin' through, +when I'd meet up with him on the trail, an' invitin' him to go over to +the Long Horn to have a snort of tea, a time or two, down to Wolf +River." + +At the up-slanting bank where they had sought refuge from the valley he +dismounted, wrenched his own saddle out of the mud, and examined the +broken cinch. "If the pilgrim hadn't saved me the trouble, I'd of sure +had to get Purdy for that," he muttered, and looked up to encounter the +eyes of the girl, who was watching him from the top of the bank. Her +face was very white, and the sight stirred a strange discomfort within +him. "I bet she wouldn't turn no such colour for me, if I'd be'n +drowned for a week," he thought, bitterly. + +"You--didn't find him?" The words came with an effort. + +The Texan forced a smile: "I wouldn't have be'n here if I hadn't. Or +rather Bat did, an' I found the two of 'em. He's all to the mustard +an' none the worse for wear, except his clothes--they won't never look +quite the same, an' his socks need mendin' in sixty or seventy spots. +They'll be along directly. You run along and fix 'em up some breakfast +an' keep out of sight. I'm goin' to do a little scoutin' an', maybe, +won't be back 'til pretty near dark." + +"But you! Surely, you must be nearly starved!" The relief that +flashed into her face at the news of Endicott's safety changed to +sincere concern. + +"I ain't got time, now." + +"Please come. The coffee is all ready and it won't take but a minute +to fry some bacon." + +The Texan smiled up at her. "If you insist," he said. The girl +started in surprise at the words, and the man plunged immediately into +the vernacular of the cow-country as he followed her into the timber. +"Yes. A cup of Java wouldn't go bad, but I won't stop long. I want to +kind of circulate along the back-trail a ways to see if we're bein' +followed." He took the cup of coffee from her hand and watched as she +sliced the bacon and threw it into the frying pan. "Did you ever +figure on turnin' nester?" he asked abruptly. + +The girl looked at him inquiringly: "Nester?" she asked. "What's a +nester?" + +Tex smiled: "Nesters is folks that takes up a claim an' fences off a +creek somewheres, an' then stays with it 'til, by the grace of God, +they either starve to death, or get rich." + +Alice laughed: "No, I never thought of being a nester. But it would be +loads of fun. That is, if----" + +The Texan interrupted her almost rudely: "Yes, an' if they didn't, it +would just naturally be hell, wouldn't it?" He gulped down the last of +his coffee, and, without waiting for the bacon, strode out of the +timber, mounted his horse, and rode away. + +At the reservoir site he drew rein and inspected the ruined +dirt-and-rock dam. Fresh dirt, brush, and rock had already been dumped +into the aperture, and over on the hillside a group of men was busy +loading wagons. He let himself into the ranch enclosure, rode past the +bunk-house and on toward the big house that sat well back from the +other buildings in the centre of a grove of trees. A horse stood +saddled beside the porch, and through the open door Tex could hear a +man's voice raised in anger: "Why in hell ain't it ready? You might of +knowed I'd want it early today, havin' to git out at daylight! You +wouldn't give a damn if I never got nothin' to eat!" The door banged +viciously cutting off a reply in a woman's voice, and a man strode +across the porch, and snatched up the reins of the waiting horse. + +"What's the matter, Johnson, your suspenders galdin' you this mornin'?" + +The man scowled into the face of the cow-puncher who sat regarding him +with an irritating grin. + +"What do you want around here? If you want a job go turn your horse +into the corral an' git out there an' git to work on that resevoy." + +"No, Johnson, I don't want a job. I done had one experience with this +outfit, an' I fired you for a boss for keeps." + +"Get offen this ranch!" roared the man, shaking a fist, and advancing +one threatening step, "or I'll have you throw'd off!" + +Tex laughed: "I don't aim to stick around no great while. Fact is, I'm +in somethin' of a hurry myself. I just stopped in to give you a chanct +to do me a good turn. I happened to be down this way an': 'there's +Johnson,' I says to myself, 'he's so free an' open-handed, a man's +welcome to anything he's got,' so I stopped in." + +The ranchman regarded him with an intent scowl: "'Sth' matter with you, +you drunk?" + +"Not yet. But I got a friend out here in the hills which he's lost his +slippers, an' tore his pants, an' got his shirt all dirty, an' mislaid +his hat; an' knowin' you'd be glad to stake him to an outfit I come +over, him bein' about your size an' build." + +The ranchman's face flushed with anger: "What the hell do I care about +you an' your friends. Git offen this ranch, I tell you!" + +"Oh, yes, an' while you're gettin' the outfit together just you slip in +a cinch, an' a quart or two of _hooch_, case we might get snake-bit." + +Beside himself with rage, the man raised his foot to the stirrup. As +if suddenly remembering something he paused, lowered his foot, and +regarded the cowboy with an evil leer: "Ah-ha, I've got it now!" he +moved a step nearer. "I was at the dance night before last to Wolf +River." He waited to note the effect of the words on his hearer. + +"Did you have a good time? Or did the dollar you had to shell out for +the ticket spoil all the fun?" + +"Never mind what kind of a _time_ I had. But they's plenty of us knows +you was the head leader of the gang that took an' lynched that pilgrim." + +"That's right," smiled the man coolly. "Beats the devil, how things +gets spread around, don't it? An' speakin' of news spreading that +way--I just came up the creek from down below the canyon. You must +have had quite a bit of water in your reservoir when she let go, +Johnson, judgin' by results." + +"What do you mean?" + +"You ain't be'n down the creek, then?" + +"No, I ain't. I'm goin' now. I had to git the men to work fixin' the +dam." + +"What I mean is this! There's about fifty head of cattle, more or +less, that's layin' sprinkled around on top of the mud. Amongst which +I seen T U brands, and I X, an' D bar C, an' quite a few nester brands. +When your reservoir let go she sure raised hell with other folks' +property. Of course, bein' away down there where there ain't any +folks, if I hadn't happened along it might have been two or three weeks +before any one would have rode through, an' you could have run a bunch +of ranch hands down an' buried 'em an' no one would have be'n any +wiser----" + +"You're lyin'!" There was a look of fear in the man's eyes, + +Tex shrugged: "You'll only waste a half a day ridin' down to see for +yourself," he replied indifferently. + +Johnson appeared to consider, then stepped close to the Texan's side: +"They say one good turn deserves another. Meanin' that you shet up +about them cattle an' I'll shet up about seein' you." + +"That way, it wouldn't cost you nothin' would it, Johnson? Well, it's +a trade, if you throw in the aforementioned articles of outfit I +specified, to boot." + +"Not by a damn sight! You got the best end of it the way it is. +Lynchin' is murder!" + +"So it is," agreed the Texan. "An' likewise, maintainin' weak +reservoirs that lets go an' drowns other folks' cattle is a public +nuisance, an' a jury's liable to figger up them damages kind of +high--'specially again' you, Johnson, bein' ornery an' rotten-hearted, +an' tight-fisted, that way, folks don't like you." + +"It means hangin' fer you!" + +"Yes. But it means catchin' first. I can be a thousan' miles away +from here, in a week, but you're different. All they got to do is grab +the ranch, it's good for five or six thousan' in damages, all right. +Still if you don't want to trade, I'll be goin'." He gathered up his +reins. + +"Hold on! It's a damned hold-up, but what was it you wanted?" + +The Texan checked off the items on his gloved fingers: "One pair of +pants, one shirt, one hat, one pair of boots, same size as yourn, one +pair of spurs, one silk muffler, that one you've got on'll do, one +cinch, half a dozen packages of tobacco, an' one bottle of whiskey. +All to be in good order an' delivered right here within ten minutes. +An' you might fetch a war-bag to pack 'em in. Hurry up now! 'Cause if +you ain't back in ten minutes, I'll be movin' along, an' when I pass +the word to the owners of them cattle it's goin' to raise their +asperity some obnoxious." + +With a growl the man disappeared into the house to return a few minutes +later with a sack whose sides bulged. + +"Dump 'em out an' we'll look 'em over!" ordered the Texan and the man +complied. + +"All right. Throw 'em in again an' hand 'em up." + +When he had secured the load by means of his pack strings he turned to +the rancher. + +"So long, Johnson, an' if I was you I wouldn't lose no time in +attendin' to the last solemn obsequies of them defunk dogies. I'll +never squeal, but you can't tell how soon someone else might come +a-ridin' along through the foot-hills." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +A BOTTLE OF "HOOCH" + +It was well past the middle of the afternoon when the Texan rode up the +steep incline and unsaddled his horse. The occupants of the camp were +all asleep, the girl in her little shelter tent, and Bat and Endicott +with their blankets spread at some little distance away. Tex carried +the outfit he had procured from Johnson into the timber, then crawled +cautiously to the pilgrim's side, and awoke him without arousing the +others. + +"Hey, Win, wake up," he whispered as the man regarded him through a +pair of sleepy eyes. "Come on with me. I got somethin' to show you." +Tex led the way to the war-bag. "Them clothes of yourn is plum +despisable to look at," he imparted, "so I borrowed an outfit offen a +friend of mine that's about your size. Just crawl into 'em an' see how +they fit." + +Five minutes later the cowboy viewed with approval the figure that +stood before him, booted and spurred, with his mud-caked garments +replaced by corduroy trousers and a shirt of blue flannel against which +the red silk muffler made a splotch of vivid colouring. + +"You look like a sure enough top hand, now," grinned the Texan. "We'll +just take a drink on that." He drew the cork from the bottle and +tendered it to Endicott, who shook his head. + +"No, thanks. I never use it." + +The Texan stared at him in surprise. "Do you mean you've got the +regular habit of not drinkin', or is it only a temporary lapse of duty?" + +Endicott laughed: "Regular habit," he answered. + +The other drank deeply of the liquor and returned the cork. "You ought +to break yourself of that habit, Win, there's no tellin' where it'll +lead to. A fellow insulted me once when I was sober an' I never +noticed it. But laying aside your moral defects, them whiskers of +yourn is sure onornamental to a scandalous degree. Wait, I'll fetch my +razor, an' you can mow 'em." He disappeared, to return a few moments +later with a razor, a cake of hand-soap, and a shaving brush. + +"I never have shaved my self," admitted Endicott, eyeing the articles +dubiously. + +"Who have you shaved?" + +"I mean, I have always been shaved by a barber." + +"Oh!" The cowboy took another long pull at the bottle. "Well, Win, +the fact is them whiskers looks like hell an' has got to come off." He +rolled up his sleeves. "I ain't no barber, an' never shaved a man in +my life, except myself, but I'm willin' to take a chance. After what +you've done for me I'd be a damn coward not to risk it. Wait now 'til +I get another drink an' I'll tackle the job an' get it over with. A +man can't never tell what he can do 'til he tries." + +Endicott viewed the cowboy's enthusiasm with alarm. "That's just what +I was thinking, Tex," he hastened to say, as the other drew the cork +from the bottle. "And it is high time I learned to shave myself, +anyway. I have never been where it was necessary before. If you will +just sit there and tell me how, I will begin right now." + +"Alright, Win, you can't never learn any younger. First off, you wet +your face in the creek an' then soap it good. That soap ain't regular +shavin' soap, but it'll do. Then you take the brush an' work it into a +lather, an' then you shave." + +"But," inquired the man dubiously, "don't you have towels soaked in hot +water, and----" + +"Towels an' hot water, hell! This ain't no barber shop, an' there +ain't no gin, or whatever they rub on your face after you get through, +either. You just shave an' knock the soap off your ears an' that's all +there is to it." + +After much effort Endicott succeeded in smearing his face with a thin, +stringy lather, and gingerly picked up the razor. The Texan looked on +in owlish solemnity as the man sat holding the blade helplessly. + +"What you doin', Win, sayin' the blessin'? Just whet her on your boot +an' sail in." + +"But where do I begin?" + +The Texan snorted disgustedly. "Your face ain't so damn big but what +an hour or two reminiscence ought to take you back to where it starts. +Begin at your hat an' work down over your jaw 'til you come to your +shirt, an' the same on the other side, takin' in your lip an' chin in +transit, as the feller says. An' hold it like a razor, an' not like a +pitchfork. Now you got to lather all over again, 'cause it's dry." + +Once more Endicott laboriously coaxed a thin lather out of the brown +hand-soap, and again he grasped the razor, this time with a do-or-die +determination. + +"Oughtn't I have a mirror?" he asked doubtfully. + +"A mirror! Don't you know where your own face is at? You don't need +no mirror to eat with, do you? Well, it's the same way with shavin'. +But if you got to have ocular evidence, just hang out over the creek +there where it's still." + +The operation was slow and painful. It seemed to Endicott as though +each separate hair were being dragged out by its roots, and more than +once the razor edge drew blood. At last the job was finished, he +bathed his smarting face in the cold water, and turned to the Texan for +approval. + +"You look like the second best bet in a two-handed cat fight," he +opined, and producing his book of cigarette papers, proceeded to stick +patches of tissue over various cuts and gashes. "Takin' it by an' +large, though, it ain't so bad. There's about as many places where you +didn't go close enough as there is where you went too close, so's it'll +average somewhere around the skin level. Anyway it shows you tried to +look respectable--an' you do, from your neck down--an' your hat, too." + +"I am certainly obliged to you," laughed Endicott, "for going to all +that trouble to provide me with clothing. And by the way, did you +learn anything--in regard to posses, I mean?" + +The Texan nodded sombrely: "Yep. I did. This here friend of mine was +on his way back from Wolf River when I met up with him. 'Tex,' he +says, 'where's the pilgrim?' I remains noncommital, an' he continues, +'I layed over yesterday to enjoy Purdy's funeral, which it was the +biggest one ever pulled off in Wolf River--not that any one give a damn +about Purdy, but they've drug politics into it, an' furthermore, his'n +was the only corpse to show for the whole celebration, it bein' plumb +devoid of further casualties.'" The cowpuncher paused, referred to his +bottle, and continued: "It's just like I told you before. There can't +no one's election get predjudiced by hangin' you, an' they've made a +kind of issue out of it. There's four candidates for sheriff this fall +an' folks has kind of let it be known, sub rosy, that the one that +brings you in, gathers the votes. In the absence of any corpse +delecti, which in this case means yourn, folks refuses to assume you +was hung, so each one of them four candidates is right now scouring the +country with a posse. All this he imparts to me while he was throwin' +that outfit of clothes together an' further he adds that I'm under +suspicion for aidin' an' abettin', an' that means life with hard labour +if I'm caught with the goods--an', Win, you're the goods. Therefore, +you'll confer a favour on me by not getting caught, an' incidentally +save yourself a hangin'. Once we get into the bad lands we're all to +the good, but even then you've got to keep shy of folks. Duck out of +sight when you first see any one. Don't have nothin' to say to no one +under no circumstances. If you do chance onto someone where you can't +do nothin' else you'll have to lie to 'em. Personal, I don't favour +lyin' only as a last resort, an' then in moderation. Of course, down +in the bad lands, most of the folks will be on the run like we are, an' +not no more anxious for to hold a caucus than us. You don't have to be +so particular there, 'cause likely all they'll do when they run onto +you will be to take a shot at you, an' beat it. We've got to lay low +in the bad lands about a week or so, an' after that folks will have +somethin' else on their mind an' we can slip acrost to the N. P." + +"See here, Tex, this thing has gone far enough." There was a note of +determination in Endicott's voice as he continued: "I cannot permit you +to further jeopardize yourself on my account. You have already +neglected your business, incurred no end of hard work, and risked life, +limb, and freedom to get me out of a scrape. I fully appreciate that I +am already under heavier obligation to you than I can ever repay. But +from here on, I am going it alone. Just indicate the general direction +of the N. P. and I will find it. I know that you and Bat will see that +Miss Marcum reaches the railway in safety, and----" + +"Hold on, Win! That oration of yourn ain't got us no hell of a ways, +an' already it's wandered about four school-sections off the trail. In +the first place, it's me an' not you that does the permittin' for this +outfit. I've undertook to get you acrost to the N. P. I never started +anythin' yet that I ain't finished. Take this bottle of _hooch_ +here--I've started her, an' I'll finish her. There's just as much +chance I won't take you acrost to the N. P., as that I won't finish +that bottle--an' that's damn little. + +"About neglectin' my business, as you mentioned, that ain't worryin' me +none, because the wagon boss specified particular an' onmistakeable +that if any of us misguided sons of guns didn't show up on the job the +mornin' followin' the dance, we might's well keep on ridin' as far as +that outfit was concerned, so it's undoubtable that the cow business is +bein' carried on satisfactory durin' my temporary absence. + +"Concernin' the general direction of the N. P., I'll enlighten you that +if you was to line out straight for Texas, it would be the first +railroad you'd cross. But you wouldn't never cross it because +interposed between it an' here is a right smart stretch of country +which for want of a worse name is called the bad lands. They's some +several thousan' square miles in which there's only seven water-holes +that a man can drink out of, an' generally speakin' about five of them +is dry. There's plenty of water-holes but they're poison. Some is gyp +an' some is arsnic. Also these here bad lands ain't laid out on no +general plan. The coulees run hell-west an' crossways at their +littlest end an' wind up in a mud crack. There ain't no trails, an' +the inhabitants is renegades an' horse-thieves which loves their +solitude to a murderous extent. If a man ain't acquainted with the +country an' the horse-thieves, an' the water-holes, his sojourn would +be discouragin' an' short. + +"All of which circumlocutin' brings us to the main point which is that +_she_ wouldn't stand for no such proceedin'. As far as I can see that +settles the case. The pros an' cons that you an' me could set here an' +chew about, bein' merely incidental, irreverent, an' by way of passin' +the time." + +Endicott laughed: "You are a philosopher, Tex." + +"A cow-hand has got to be." + +"But seriously, I could slip away without her knowing it, then the only +thing you could do would be to take her to the railway." + +"Yes. Well, you try that an' you'll find out who's runnin' this +outfit. I'll trail out after you an' when I catch you, I'll just +naturally knock hell out of you, an' that's all there'll be to it. You +had the edge on me in the water but you ain't on land. An' now that's +settled to the satisfaction of all parties concerned, suppose me an' +you slip over to camp an' cook supper so we can pull out right after +sundown." + +The two made their way through the timber to find Alice blowing herself +red in the face in a vain effort to coax a blaze out of a few +smouldering coals she had scraped from beneath the ashes of the fire. + +"Hold on!" cried the Texan, striding toward her, "I've always +maintained that buildin' fires is a he-chore, like swearin', an' +puttin' the baby to sleep. So, if you'll just set to one side a minute +while I get this fire a-goin' an' Win fetches some water, you can take +holt an' do the cookin' while we-all get the outfit ready for the +trail." + +Something in the man's voice caused the girl to regard him sharply, and +her eyes shifted for a moment to his companion who stood in the +background. There was no flash of recognition in the glance, and +Endicott, suppressing a laugh, turned his face away, picked up the +water pail, and started toward the creek. + +"Who is that man?" asked the girl, a trifle nervously, as he +disappeared from view. + +"Who, him?" The Texan was shaving slivers from a bull pine stick. +"He's a friend of mine. Win's his name, an' barrin' a few little +irregularities of habit, he ain't so bad." The cowboy burst into +mournful song as he collected his shavings and laid them upon the coals: + + "It's little Joe, the wrangler, he'll wrangle never more, + His days with the _remuda_ they are o'er; + 'Twas a year ago last April when he rode into our camp, + Just a little Texas stray, and all alo-o-o-n-e." + +Alice leaned toward the man in sudden anger: + +"You've been drinking!" she whispered. + +Tex glanced at her in surprise: "That's so," he said, gravely. "It's +the only way I can get it down." + +She was about to retort when Endicott returned from the creek and +placed the water pail beside her. + +"Winthrop!" she cried, for the first time recognizing him. "Where in +the world did you get those clothes, and what is the matter with your +face?" + +Endicott grinned: "I shaved myself for the first time." + +"What did you do it with, some barbed wire?" + +"Looks like somethin' that was left out in the rain an' had started to +peel," ventured the irrepressible Tex. + +Alice ignored him completely. "But the clothes? Where did you get +them?" + +Endicott nodded toward the Texan. "He loaned them to me!" + +"But--surely they would never fit him." + +"Didn't know it was necessary they should," drawled Tex, and having +succeeded in building the fire, moved off to help Bat who was busying +himself with the horses. + +"Where has he been?" asked the girl as the voice of the Texan came from +beyond the trees: + + "It happened in Jacksboro in the spring of seventy-three, + A man by the name of Crego come steppin' up to me, + Sayin', 'How do you do, young fellow, an' how would you like to go + An' spend one summer pleasantly, on the range of the buffalo-o-o?'" + +"I'm sure I don't know. He came back an hour or so ago and woke me up +and gave me this outfit and told me my whiskers looked like the +infernal regions and that I had better shave--even offered to shave me, +himself." + +"But he has been drinking. Where did he get the liquor?" + +"The same place he got the clothes, I guess. He said he met a friend +and borrowed them," smiled Endicott. + +"Well, it's nothing to laugh at. I should think you'd be ashamed to +stand there and laugh about it." + +The man stared at her in surprise. "I guess he won't drink enough to +hurt him any. And--why, it was only a day or two ago that you sat in +the dining car and defended their drinking. You even said, I believe, +that had you been a man you would have been over in the saloon with +them." + +"Yes, I did say that! But that was different. Oh, I think men are +_disgusting_! They're either _bad_, or just plain _dumb_!" + + "We left old Crego's bones to bleach on the range of the buffalo-- + Went home to our wives an' sweethearts, told others not to go, + For God's forsaken the buffalo range, and the damned old buffalo-o-o!" + +"At least our friend Tex does not seem to be stricken with dumbness," +Endicott smiled as the words of the buffalo skinner's song broke forth +anew. "Do you know I have taken a decided fancy to him. He's----" + +"I'd run along and play with him then if I were you," was the girl's +sarcastic comment. "Maybe if you learn how to swear and sing some of +his beautiful songs he'll give you part of his whiskey." She turned +away abruptly and became absorbed in the preparation of supper, and +Endicott, puzzled as he was piqued, at the girl's attitude, joined the +two who were busy with the pack. "He's just perfectly stunning in that +outfit," thought Alice as she watched him disappear in the timbers. +"Oh, I don't know--sometimes I wish--" but the wish became confused +somehow with the sizzling of bacon. And with tight-pressed lips, she +got out the tin dishes. + +"What's the matter, Win--steal a sheep?" asked the Texan as he paused, +blanket in hand, to regard Endicott. + +"What?" + +"What did _you_ catch hell for? You didn't imbibe no embalmin' fluid." +Endicott grinned and the cowboy finished rolling his blanket. + +"Seems like we're in bad, some way. She didn't say nothin' much, but I +managed to gather from the way she looked right through the place where +I was standin' that I could be got along without for a spell. Her +interruptin' me right in the middle of a song to impart that I'd be'n +drinkin' kind of throw'd me under the impression that the pastime was +frowned on, but the minute I seen you comin' through the brush like you +was sneaking off at recess, I know'd you was included in the boycott +an' that lets the booze out. Seein's our conscience is clear, it must +be somethin' _she_ done that she's took umbrage at, as the feller says, +an' the best thing we can do is to overlook it. I don't know as I'd +advise tellin' her so, but we might just kind of blend into the scenery +onobtrusive 'til the thaw comes. In view of which I'll just take a +little drink an' sing you a song I heard down on the Rio Grande." +Thrusting his arm into the end of his blanket roll, the Texan drew +forth his bottle and, taking a drink, carefully replaced it. "This +here song is _The Old Chisholm Trail_, an' it goes like this: + + "Come along; boys, and listen to my tale, + I'll tell you of my troubles on the old Chisholm trail. + + Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya, youpy ya, + Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya. + + I started up the trail October twenty-third, + I started up the trail with the 2-U herd. + + Oh, a ten dollar hoss and a forty dollar saddle-- + And I'm goin' to punchin' Texas cattle. + + I woke up one morning on the old Chisholm trail, + Rope in my hand and a cow by the tail. + + I'm up in the mornin' afore daylight + And afore I sleep the moon shines bright. + + Old Ben Bolt was a blamed good boss, + But he'd go to see the girls on a sore-backed hoss. + + Old Ben Bolt was a fine old man + And you'd know there was whiskey wherever he'd land. + + My hoss throwed me off at the creek called Mud, + My hoss throwed me off round the 2-U herd. + + Last time I saw him he was going cross the level + A-kicking up his heels and a-runnin' like the devil. + + It's cloudy in the west, a-lookin' like rain, + An' my damned old slicker's in the wagon again. + + Crippled my hoss, I don't know how, + Ropin' at the horns of a 2-U cow. + + We hit Caldwell and we hit her on the fly, + We bedded down the cattle on the hill close by. + + No chaps, no slicker, and it's pourin' down rain, + An' I swear, by God, I'll never night-herd again. + + Feet in the stirrups and seat in the saddle, + I hung and rattled with them long-horn cattle. + + Last night I was on guard and the leader broke the ranks, + I hit my horse down the shoulders and I spurred him in the flanks. + + The wind commenced to blow, and the rain began to fall. + Hit looked, by grab, like we was goin' to lose 'em all. + + I jumped in the saddle and grabbed holt the horn, + Best blamed cow-puncher ever was born. + + I popped my foot in the stirrup and gave a little yell, + The tail cattle broke and the leaders went to hell. + + I don't give a damn if they never do stop; + I'll ride as long as an eight-day clock. + + Foot in the stirrup and hand on the horn, + Best damned cowboy ever was born. + + I herded and I hollered and I done very well + Till the boss said, 'Boys, just let 'em go to hell.' + + Stray in the herd and the boss said kill it, + So I shot him in the rump with the handle of the skillet. + + We rounded 'em up and put 'em on the cars, + And that was the last of the old Two Bars. + + Oh, it's bacon and beans most every day,-- + I'd as soon be a-eatin' prairie hay. + + I'm on my best horse and I'm goin' at a run, + I'm the quickest shootin' cowboy that ever pulled a gun. + + I went to the wagon to get my roll, + To come back to Texas, dad-burn my soul. + + I went to the boss to draw my roll, + He had it figgered out I was nine dollars in the hole. + + I'll sell my outfit just as soon as I can, + I won't punch cattle for no damned man. + + Goin' back to town to draw my money, + Goin' back home to see my honey. + + With my knees in the saddle and my seat in the sky, + I'll quit punchin' cows in the sweet by and by. + + Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya, youpy ya, + Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya." + +As the last words of the chorus died away both men started at the sound +of the girl's voice. + +"Whenever you can spare the time you will find your supper ready," she +announced, coldly, and without waiting for a reply, turned toward the +camp. Endicott looked at Tex, and Tex looked at Endicott. + +"Seems like you done raised hell again, Win. Standin' around listenin' +to ribald songs, like you done, ain't helped our case none. Well, we +better go eat it before she throws it away. Come on, Bat, you're +included in the general gloom. Your face looks like a last year's +circus bill, Win, with them patches of paper hangin' to it. Maybe +that's what riled her. If I thought it was I'd yank 'em off an' let +them cuts bleed no matter how bad they stung, just to show her my +heart's in the right place. But that might not suit, neither, so there +you are." + +Alice sat well back from the fire as the three men poured their coffee +and helped themselves to the food. + +"Ain't you goin' to join us in this here repast?" asked Tex, with a +smile. + +"I have eaten, thank you." + +"You're welcome--like eight dollars change for a five-spot." + +In vain Endicott signalled the cowboy to keep silent. "Shove over, +Win, you're proddin' me in the ribs with your elbow! Ain't Choteau +County big enough to eat in without crowdin'? 'Tain't as big as Tom +Green County, at that, no more'n Montana is as big as Texas--nor as +good, either; not but what the rest of the United States has got +somethin' to be said in its favour, though. But comparisons are +ordorous, as the Dutchman said about the cheese. Come on, Win, me an' +you'll just wash up these dishes so Bat can pack 'em while we saddle +up." + +A half-hour later, just as the moon topped the crest of a high ridge, +the four mounted and made their way down into the valley. + +"We got to go kind of easy for a few miles 'cause I shouldn't wonder if +old man Johnson had got a gang out interrin' defunck bovines. I'll +just scout out ahead an' see if I can locate their camp so we can slip +past without incurrin' notoriety." + +"I should think," said Alice, with more than a trace of acid in her +tone, "that you had done quite enough scouting for one day." + +"In which case," smiled the unabashed Texan, "I'll delegate the duty to +my trustworthy retainer an' side-kicker, the ubiquitous an' iniquitous +Baterino St. Cecelia Julius Caesar Napoleon Lajune. Here, Bat, fork +over that pack-horse an' take a siyou out ahead, keepin' a lookout for +posses, post holes, and grave-diggers. It's up to you to see that we +pass down this vale of tears, unsight an' unsung, as the poet says, or +off comes your hind legs. Amen." + +The half-breed grinned his understanding and handed over the lead-rope +with a bit of homely advice. "You no lak' you git find, dat better you +don' talk mooch. You ain' got to sing no mor', neider, or ba Goss! +A'm tak' you down an' stick you mout' full of rags, lak' I done down to +Chinook dat tam'. Dat _hooch_ she mak' noise 'nough for wan night, +_sabe_?" + +"That's right, Bat. Tombstones and oysters is plumb raucous +institutions to what I'll be from now on." He turned to the others +with the utmost gravity. "You folks will pardon any seemin' reticence +on my part, I hope. But there's times when Bat takes holt an' runs the +outfit--an' this is one of 'em." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +ON ANTELOPE BUTTE + +After the departure of Bat it was a very silent little cavalcade that +made its way down the valley. Tex, with the lead-horse in tow, rode +ahead, his attention fixed on the trail, and the others followed, +single file. + +Alice's eyes strayed from the backs of her two companions to the +mountains that rolled upward from the little valley, their massive +peaks and buttresses converted by the wizardry of moonlight into a +fairyland of wondrous grandeur. The cool night air was fragrant with +the breath of growing things, and the feel of her horse beneath her +caused the red blood to surge through her veins. + +"Oh, it's grand!" she whispered, "the mountains, and the moonlight, and +the spring. I love it all--and yet--" She frowned at the jarring note +that crept in, to mar the fulness of her joy. "It's the most wonderful +adventure I ever had--and romantic. And it's _real_, and I ought to be +enjoying it more than I ever enjoyed anything in all my life. But, I'm +not, and it's all because--I don't see why he had to go and drink!" +The soft sound of the horses' feet in the mud changed to a series of +sharp clicks as their iron shoes encountered the bare rocks of the +floor of the canyon whose precipitous rock walls towered far above, +shutting off the flood of moonlight and plunging the trail into +darkness. The figures of the two men were hardly discernible, and the +girl started nervously as her horse splashed into the water of the +creek that foamed noisily over the canyon floor. She shivered slightly +in the wind that sucked chill through the winding passage, although +back there in the moonlight the night had been still. Gradually the +canyon widened. Its walls grew lower and slanted from the +perpendicular. Moonlight illumined the wider bends and flashed in +silver scintillations from the broken waters of the creek. The click +of the horses' feet again gave place to the softer trampling of mud, +and the valley once more spread before them, broader now, and flanked +by an endless succession of foothills. + +Bat appeared mysteriously from nowhere, and after a whispered colloquy +with Tex, led off toward the west, leaving the valley behind and +winding into the maze of foothills. A few miles farther on they came +again into the valley and Alice saw that the creek had dwindled into a +succession of shallow pools between which flowed a tiny trickle of the +water. On and on they rode, following the shallow valley. Lush grass +overran the pools and clogged the feeble trickle of the creek. Farther +on, even the green patches disappeared and white alkali soil showed +between the gnarled sage bushes. Gradually the aspect of the country +changed. High, grass-covered foothills gave place to sharp pinnacles +of black lava rock, the sides of the valley once more drew together, +low, and broken into ugly cutbanks of dirty grey. Sagebrush and +prickly pears furnished the only vegetation, and the rough, broken +surface of the country took on a starved, gaunt appearance. + +Alice knew instinctively that they were at the gateway of the bad +lands, and the forbidding aspect that greeted her on every side as her +eyes swept the restricted horizon caused a feeling of depression. Even +the name "bad lands" seemed to hold a foreboding of evil. She had not +noticed this when the Texan had spoken it. If she had thought of it at +all, it was impersonally--an undesirable strip of country, as one +mentions the Sahara Desert. But, now, when she herself was entering +it--was seeing with her own eyes the grey mud walls, the bare black +rocks, and the stunted sage and cactus--the name held much of sinister +portent. + +From a nearby hillock came a thin weird scream--long-drawn and broken +into a series of horrible cackles. Instantly, as though it were the +signal that loosed the discordant chorus of hell, the sound was caught +up, intensified and prolonged until the demonical screams seemed to +belch from every hill and from the depths of the coulees between. + +Unconsciously, the girl spurred her horse which leaped past Endicott +and Bat and drew up beside the Texan, who was riding alone in the +forefront. + +The man glanced into the white frightened face: "Coyotes," he said, +gravely. "They won't bother any one." + +The girl shuddered. "There must be a million of them. What makes them +howl that way?" + +"Most any other way would be better, wouldn't it. But I reckon that's +the way they've learnt to, so they just keep on that way." + +Alice glanced at him sharply, but in the moonlight his clean-cut +profile gave no hint of levity. + +"You are making fun of me!" + +He turned his head and regarded her thoughtfully. "No. I wouldn't do +that, really. I was thinkin' of somethin' else." + +"You are a very disconcerting young man. You are unspeakably rude, and +I ought to be furiously angry." + +The Texan appeared to consider. "No. You oughtn't to do that because +when something important comes up you ain't got anything back, an' +folks won't regard you serious. But you wouldn't have been even peeved +if you knew what I was thinkin' about." + +"What was it?" The instant the question left her lips the girl wished +she could have recalled it. + +There was a long pause and Alice began to hope that the man had not +heard her question. Then he turned a very grave face toward her and +his eyes met hers squarely. "I was thinkin' that maybe, sometime, +you'd get to care enough about me to marry me. Sounds kind of abrupt +an' off-hand, don't it? But it ain't. I've been thinkin' about it a +lot. You're the first woman I've seen since--well, since way back +yonder, that I'd ever marry. The only one that stacks up to the kind +of people mine are, an' that I was back there. Of course, there'd be a +lot of readjustin' but that would work out--it always does when the +right kind of folks takes holt to put anything through. I've got some +recreations an' pastimes that ain't condoned by the pious. I gamble, +an' swear, an' smoke, an' lie, an' drink. But I gamble square, swear +decent an' hearty, lie for fun, but never in earnest, an' drink to a +reasonable degree of hilarity. My word is good with every man, woman, +an' child in the cow country. I never yet went back on a friend, nor +let up on an enemy. I never took underhand advantage of man or woman, +an' I know the cow business. For the rest of it, I'll go to the old +man an' offer to take the Eagle Creek ranch off his hands an' turn +nester. It's a good ranch, an' one that rightly handled would make a +man rich--provided he was a married man an' had somethin' to get rich +for. I don't want you to tell me now, you won't, or you will. We've +got a week or so yet to get acquainted in. An', here's another thing. +I know, an' you know, down deep in your heart, that you're goin' to +marry either Win, or me. Maybe you know which. I don't. But if it is +him, you'll get a damned good man. He's square an' clean. He's got +nerve--an' there ain't no bluff about it, neither. Wise men don't fool +with a man with an eye like his. An' he wants you as bad as I do. As +I said, we've got a week or more to get acquainted. It will be a week +that may take us through some mighty tough sleddin', but that ain't +goin' to help you none in choosin', because neither one of us will +break--an' you can bet your last stack of blue ones on that." + +The girl's lips were pressed very tight, and for some moments she rode +in silence. + +"Do you suppose I would ever marry a man who deliberately gets so drunk +he sings and talks incessantly----" + +"You'd be safer marryin' one that got drunk deliberately, than one who +done it inadvertent when he aimed to stay sober. Besides, there's +various degrees of drunkenness, the term bein' relative. But for the +sake of argument admittin' I was drunk, if you object to the singin' +and talkin', what do you recommend a man to do when he's drunk?" + +"I utterly despise a man that gets drunk!" The words came with an +angry vehemence, and for many minutes the Texan rode in silence while +the bit chains clinked and the horses' hoofs thudded the ground dully. +He leaned forward and his gloved hand gently smoothed his horse's mane. +"You don't mean just exactly that," he said, with his eyes on the dim +outline of a butte that rose high in the distance. Alice noticed that +the bantering tone was gone from his voice, and that his words fell +with a peculiar softness. "I reckon, though, I know what you do mean. +An' I reckon that barrin' some little difference in viewpoint, we think +about alike. . . . Yonder's Antelope Butte. We'll be safe to camp +there till we find out which way the wind blows before we strike +across." + +Deeper and deeper they pushed into the bad lands, the huge bulk of +Antelope Butte looming always before them, its outline showing +distinctly in the light of the sinking moon. As far as the eye could +see on every side the moonlight revealed only black lava-rock, deep +black shadows that marked the courses of dry coulees, and enormous +mud-cracks--and Antelope Butte. + +As the girl rode beside the cowboy she noticed that the cynical smile +was gone from the clean-cut profile. For miles he did not speak. +Antelope Butte was near, now. + +"I am thirsty," she said. A gauntleted hand fumbled for a moment with +the slicker behind the cantle, and extended a flask. + +"It's water. I figured someone would get thirsty." + +The girl drank from the flask and returned it: "If there are posses out +won't they watch the water-holes? You said there are only a few in the +bad lands." + +"Yes, they'll watch the water-holes. That's why we're goin' to camp on +Antelope Butte--right up on top of it." + +"But, how will we get water?" + +"It's there." + +"Have you been up there?" The girl glanced upward. They were already +ascending the first slope, and the huge mass of the detached mountain +towered above them in a series of unscaleable precipices. + +"No. But the water's there. The top of the Butte hollows out like a +saucer, an' in the bowl there's a little sunk spring. No one much ever +goes up there. There's a little scragglin' timber, an' the trail--it's +an old game trail--is hard to find if you don't know where to look for +it. A horse-thief told me about it." + +"A horse-thief! Surely, you are not risking all our lives on the word +of a horse-thief!" + +"Yes. He was a pretty good fellow. They killed him, afterwards, over +near the Mission. He was runnin' off a bunch of Flourey horses." + +"But a man who would steal would lie!" + +"He didn't lie to me. He judged I done him a good turn once. Over on +the Marias, it was--an' he said: 'If you're ever on the run, hit for +Antelope Butte.' Then he told me about the trail, an' the spring that +you've got to dig for among the rocks. He's got a grub _cache_ there, +too. He won't be needin' it, now." The cowboy glanced toward the +west. "The moon ought to just about hold 'til we get to the top. He +said you could ride all the way up." Without an instant's hesitation +he headed his horse for a huge mass of rock fragments that lay at the +base of an almost perpendicular wall. The others followed in single +file. Bat bringing up the rear driving the pack-horse before him. +Alice kept her horse close behind the Texan's which wormed and twisted +in and out among the rock fragments that skirted the wall. For a +quarter of a mile they proceeded with scarcely a perceptible rise and +then the cowboy turned his horse into a deep fissure that slanted +upward at a most precarious angle seemingly straight into the heart of +the mountain. Just when it seemed that the trail must end in a blind +pocket, the Texan swung into a cross fissure so narrow that the +stirrups brushed either side. So dark was it between the towering rock +walls that Alice could scarcely make out the cowboy's horse, although +at no time was he more than ten or fifteen feet in advance. After +innumerable windings the fissure led once more to the face of the +mountain and Tex headed his horse out upon a ledge that had not been +discernible from below. Alice gasped, and for a moment it seemed as +though she could not go on. Spread out before her like a huge relief +map were the ridges and black coulees of the bad lands, and directly +below--hundreds of feet below--the gigantic rock fragments lay strewn +along the base of the cliff like the abandoned blocks of a child. She +closed her eyes and shuddered. A loose piece of rock on the narrow +trail, a stumble, and--she could feel herself whirling down, down, +down. It was the voice of the Texan--confident, firm, reassuring--that +brought her once more to her senses. + +"It's all right. Just follow right along. Shut your eyes, or keep 'em +to the wall. We're half-way up. It ain't so steep from here on, an' +she widens toward the top. I'm dizzy-headed, too, in high places an' I +shut mine. Just give the horse a loose rein an' he'll keep the trail. +There ain't nowhere else for him to go." + +With a deadly fear in her heart, the girl fastened her eyes upon the +cowboy's back and gave her horse his head. And as she rode she +wondered at this man who unhesitatingly risked his life upon the word +of a horse-thief. + +Almost before she realized it the ordeal was over and her horse was +following its leader through a sparse grove of bull pine. The ascent +was still rather sharp, and the way strewn with boulders, and fallen +trees, but the awful precipice, with its sheer drop of many hundreds of +feet to the black rocks below, no longer yawned at her stirrup's edge, +and it was with a deep-drawn breath of relief that she allowed her eyes +once again to travel out over the vast sweep of waste toward the west +where the moon hung low and red above the distant rim of the bad lands. + +The summit of Antelope Butte was, as the horse-thief had said, an ideal +camping place for any one who was "on the run." The edges of the +little plateau, which was roughly circular in form, rose on every side +to a height of thirty or forty feet, at some points in an easy slope, +and at others in a sheer rise of rock wall. The surface of the little +plane showed no trace of the black of the lava rock of the lower levels +but was of the character of the open bench and covered with buffalo +grass and bunch grass with here and there a sprinkling of prickly +pears. The four dismounted and, in the last light of the moon, +surveyed their surroundings. + +"You make camp, Bat," ordered the Texan, "while me an' Win hunt up the +spring. He said it was on the east side where there was a lot of loose +rock along the edge of the bull pine. We'll make the camp there, too, +where the wood an' water will be handy." + +Skirting the plateau, Tex led the way toward a point where a few +straggling pines showed gaunt and lean in the rapidly waning moonlight. + +"It ought to be somewheres around here," he said, as he stopped to +examine the ground more closely. "He said you had to pile off the +rocks 'til you come to the water an' then mud up a catch-basin." As he +talked, the cowboy groped among the loose rocks on his hands and knees, +pausing frequently to lay his ear to the ground. "Here she is!" he +exclaimed at length. "I can hear her drip! Come on, Win, we'll build +our well." + +Alice stood close beside her horse watching every move with intense +interest. + +"Who would have thought to look for water there?" she exclaimed. + +"I knew we'd find it just as he said," answered the Texan gravely. "He +was a good man, in his way--never run off no horses except from outfits +that could afford to lose 'em. Why, they say, he could have got plumb +away if he'd shot the posse man that run onto him over by the Mission. +But he knew the man was a nester with a wife an' two kids, so he took a +chance--an' the nester got him." + +"How could he?" cried the girl, "after----" + +The Texan regarded her gravely. "It was tough. An' he probably hated +to do it. But he was a sworn-in posse man, an' the other was a +horse-thief. It was just one of those things a man's got to do. Like +Jim Larkin, when he was sheriff, havin' to shoot his own brother, an' +him hardly more'n a kid that Jim had raised. But he'd gone plumb bad +an' swore never to be taken alive, so Jim killed him--an' then he +resigned. There ain't a man that knows Jim, that don't know he'd +rather a thousan' times over had the killin' happen the other way +'round. But he was a man. He had it to do--an' he done it." + +Alice shuddered: "And then--what became of him, then?" + +"Why, then, he went back to ranchin'. He owns the Bar X horse outfit +over on the White Mud. This here, Owen--that was his brother's +name--was just like a son to him. Jim tried to steer him straight, but +the kid was just naturally a bad egg. Feelin' it the way he does, a +lesser man might of squinted down the muzzle of his own gun, or gone +the whiskey route. But not him. To all appearances he's the same as +he always was. But some of us that know him best--we can see that he +ain't _quite_ the same as before--an' he never will be." + +There were tears in the girl's eyes as the man finished. + +"Oh, it's all wrong! It's cruel, and hard, and brutal, and wrong!" + +"No. It ain't wrong. It's hard, an' it's cruel, maybe, an' brutal. +But it's right. It ain't a country for weaklings--the cow country +ain't. It's a country where, every now an' then, a man comes square up +against something that he's got to do. An' that something is apt as +not to be just what he don't want to do. If he does it, he's a man, +an' the cow country needs him. If he don't do it, he passes on to +where there's room for his kind--an' the cow country don't miss him. A +man earns his place here, it ain't made for him--often he earns the +name by which he's called. I reckon it's the same all over--only this +is rawer." + +"Here's the water! And it is cold and sweet," called Endicott who had +been busily removing the loose rock fragments beneath which the spring +lay concealed. + +The Texan's interest centred on matters at hand: "You Bat, you make a +fire when you've finished with the horses." He turned again to the +girl: "If you'll be the cook, Win an' I'll mud up a catch-basin an' +rustle some firewood while Bat makes camp. We got to do all our +cookin' at night up here. A fire won't show above the rim yonder, but +in the daytime someone might see the smoke from ten mile off." + +"Of course, I'll do the cooking!" assented the girl, and began to carry +the camp utensils from the pack that the half-breed had thrown upon the +ground. "The dough-gods are all gone!" she exclaimed in dismay, +peering into a canvas bag. + +"Mix up some bakin'-powder ones. There's flour an' stuff in that brown +sack." + +"But--I don't know how!" + +"All right. Wait 'til I get Win strung out on this job, an' I'll make +up a batch." + +He watched Endicott arrange some stones: "Hey, you got to fit those +rocks in better'n that. Mud ain't goin' to hold without a good +backin'." + +The cowboy washed his hands in the overflow trickle and wiped them upon +his handkerchief. "I don't know what folks does all their lives back +East," he grinned; "Win, there, ain't barbered none to speak of, an' +the Lord knows he ain't no stone-mason." + +Alice did not return the smile, and the Texan noticed that her face was +grave in the pale starlight. For the first time in her life the girl +felt ashamed of her own incompetence. + +"And I can't cook, and----" + +"Well, that's so," drawled Tex, "but it won't be so tomorrow. No one +but a fool would blame any one for not doin' a thing they've never +learnt to do. They might wonder a little how-come they never learnt, +but they wouldn't hold it against 'em--not 'til they've had the +chance." Bat was still busy with the horses and the cowboy collected +sticks and lighted a small fire, talking, as he worked with swift +movements that accomplished much without the least show of haste. "It +generally don't take long in the cow country for folks to get their +chance. Take Win, there. Day before yesterday he was about the +greenest pilgrim that ever straddled a horse. Not only he didn't know +anything worth while knowin', but he was prejudiced. The first time I +looked at him I sized him up--almost. 'There's a specimen,' I says to +myself--while you an' Purdy was gossipin' about the handkerchief, an' +the dance, an' what a beautiful rider he was--'that's gone on gatherin' +refinement 'til it's crusted onto him so thick it's probably struck +through.' But just as I was losin' interest in him, he slanted a +glance at Purdy that made me look him over again. There he stood, just +the same as before--only different." The Texan poured some flour into +a pan and threw in a couple of liberal pinches of baking-powder. + +Alice's eyes followed his every movement, and she glanced toward the +spring that Endicott had churned into a mud hole. The cowboy noted her +glance. "It would be riled too much even if we strained it," he +smiled, "so we'll just use what's left in that flask. It don't take +much water an' the spring will clear in time for the coffee." + +"And some people never do learn?" Alice wanted to hear more from this +man's lips concerning the pilgrim. But the Texan mustn't know that she +wanted to hear. + +"Yes, some don't learn, some only half learn, an' some learn in a way +that carries 'em along 'til it comes to a pinch--they're the worst. +But, speakin' of Win, after I caught that look, the only surprise I got +when I heard he'd killed Purdy was that he _could_ do it--not that he +_would_. Then later, under certain circumstances that come to pass in +a coulee where there was cottonwoods, him an' I got better acquainted +yet. An' then in the matter of the reservoir--but you know more about +that than I do. You see what I'm gettin' at is this: Win can saddle +his own horse, now, an' he climbs onto him from the left side. The +next time he tackles it he'll shave, an' the next time he muds up a +catch-basin he'll mud it right. Day before yesterday he was about as +useless a lookin' piece of bric-a-brac as ever draw'd breath--an' look +at him now! There ain't been any real change. The man was there all +the time, only he was so well disguised that no one ever know'd +it--himself least of all. Yesterday I saw him take a chew off Bat's +plug--an' Bat don't offer his plug promiscuous. He'll go back East, +an' the refinement will cover him up again--an' that's a damned shame. +But he won't be just the same. It won't crust over no more, because +the prejudice is gone. He's chewed the meat of the cow country--an' +he's found it good." + +Later, long after the others had gone to sleep, Alice lay between her +blankets in the little shelter tent, thinking. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE TEXAN HEARS SOME NEWS + +Bat had pitched the tent upon a little knoll, screened by a jutting +shoulder of rock from the sleeping place of the others. When Alice +awoke it was broad daylight. She lay for a few moments enjoying the +delicious luxury of her blankets which the half-breed had spread upon a +foot-thick layer of boughs. The sun beat down upon the white canvas +and she realized that it was hot in the tent. The others must have +been up for hours and she resented their not having awakened her. She +listened for sounds, but outside all was silence and she dressed +hurriedly. Stepping from the tent, she saw the dead ashes of the +little fire and the contents of the packs apparently undisturbed, +covered with the tarp. She glanced at her watch. It was half past +nine. Suddenly she remembered that dawn had already began to grey the +east when they retired. She was the first one up! She would let the +others sleep. They needed it. She remembered the Texan had not slept +the day before, but had ridden away to return later with the clothing +for Endicott--and the whiskey. + +"I don't see why he has to drink!" she muttered, and making her way to +the spring, dipped some water from the catch-basin and splashed it over +her face and arms. The cold water dispelled the last vestige of +sleepiness and she stood erect and breathed deeply of the crystal air. +At the farther side of the bowl-like plateau the horses grazed +contentedly, and a tiny black and white woodpecker flew from tree to +tree pecking busily at the bark. Above the edge of the rim-rocks the +high-flung peaks of the Bear Paws belied the half-night's ride that +separated them from the isolated Antelope Butte. + +"What a view one should get from the edge!" she exclaimed, and turning +from the spring, made her way through the scraggly timber to the rock +wall beyond. It was not a long climb and five minutes later she stood +panting with exertion and leaned against an upstanding pinnacle of +jagged rock. For a long time she stood wonder-bound by the mighty +grandeur of the panorama that swept before her to lose itself somewhere +upon the dim horizon. Her brain grasped for details. It was all too +big--too unreal--too unlike the world she had known. In sheer +desperation, for sight of some familiar thing, her eyes turned toward +the camp. There was the little white tent, and the horses grazing +beyond. Her elevation carried her range of vision over the jutting +shoulder of rock, and she saw the Texan sitting beside his blankets +drawing on his boots. The blankets were mounded over the forms of the +others, and without disturbing them, the cowboy put on his hat and +started toward the spring. At the sight of the little tent he paused +and Alice saw him stand staring at the little patch of white canvas. +For a long time he stood unmoving, and then, impulsively, his two arms +stretched toward it. The arms were as quickly withdrawn. The Stetson +was lifted from his head and once more it seemed a long time that he +stood looking at the little tent with the soft brim of his Stetson +crushed tightly in his hand. + +Evidently, for fear of waking her, the man did not go to the spring, +but retraced his steps and Alice saw him stoop and withdraw something +from his war-bag. Thrusting the object beneath his shirt, he rose +slowly and made his way toward the rim-rock, choosing for his ascent a +steep incline which, with the aid of some rock ledges, would bring him +to the top at a point not ten yards from where she stood. + +It was with a sense of guilt that she realized she had spied upon this +man, and her cheeks flushed as she cast about desperately for a means +to escape unseen. But no such avenue presented itself, and she drew +back into a deep crevice of her rock pinnacle lest he see her. + +A grubby, stunted pine somehow managed to gain sustenance from the +stray earth among the rock cracks and screened her hiding-place. The +man was very close, now. She could hear his heavy breathing and the +click of his boot heels upon the bare rocks. Then he crossed to the +very verge of the precipice and seated himself with his feet hanging +over the edge. For some moments he sat gazing out over the bad lands, +and then his hand slipped into the front of his shirt and withdrew a +bottle of whiskey. + +The girl's lips tightened as she watched him from behind her screen of +naked roots and branches. He looked a long time at the bottle, shook +it, and held it to the sun as he contemplated the little beads that +sparkled at the edge of the liquor line. He read its label, and seemed +deeply interested in the lines of fine print contained upon an oval +sticker that adorned its back. Still holding the bottle, he once more +stared out over the bad lands. Then he drew the cork and smelled of +the liquor, breathing deeply of its fragrance, and turning, gazed +intently toward the little white tent beside the stunted pines. + +Alice saw that his eyes were serious as he set the bottle upon the rock +beside him. And then, hardly discernible at first, but gradually +assuming distinct form, a whimsical smile curved his lips as he looked +at the bottle. + +"Gosh!" he breathed, softly, "ain't you an' I had some nonsensical +times? I ain't a damned bit sorry, neither. But our trails fork here. +Maybe for a while--maybe for ever. But if it is for ever, my average +will be right honourable if I live to be a hundred." Alice noticed how +boyish the clean-cut features looked when he smiled that way. The +other smile--the masking, cynical smile--made him ten years older. The +face was once more grave, and he raised the bottle from the rock. "So +long," he said, and there was just that touch of honest regret in his +voice with which he would have parted from a friend. "So long. I've +got a choice to make--an' I don't choose you." + +The hand that held the bottle was empty. There was a moment of silence +and then from far below came the tinkle of smashing glass. The Texan +got up, adjusted the silk scarf at his neck, rolled a cigarette, and +clambering down the sharp descent, made his way toward the grazing +horses. Alice watched for a moment as he walked up to his own horse, +stroked his neck, and lightly cuffed at the ears which the horse laid +back as he playfully snapped at his master's hand. Then she scrambled +from her hiding-place and hurried unobserved to her tent, where she +threw herself upon the blankets with a sound that was somehow very like +a sob. + +When the breakfast of cold coffee and biscuits was finished the Texan +watched Endicott's clumsy efforts to roll a cigarette. + +"Better get you a piece of twine to do it with, Win," he grinned; "you +sure are a long ways from home when it comes to braidin' a smoke. Saw +a cow-hand do it once with one hand. In a show, it was in Cheyenne, +an' he sure was some cowboy--in the show. Come out onto the flats one +day where the boys was breakin' a bunch of Big O Little O +horses--'after local colour,' he said." The Texan paused and grinned +broadly. "Got it too. He clum up into the middle of a wall-eyed +buckskin an' the doc picked local colour out of his face for two hours +where he'd slid along on it--but he could roll a cigarette with one +hand. There, you got one at last, didn't you? Kind of humped up in +the middle like a snake that's swallowed a frog, but she draws all +right, an' maybe it'll last longer than a regular one." He turned to +Alice who had watched the operation with interest. + +"If you-all don't mind a little rough climbin', I reckon, you'd count +the view from the rim-rocks yonder worth seein'." + +"Oh, I'd love it!" cried the girl, as she scrambled to her feet. + +"Come on, Win," called the Texan, "I'll show you where God dumped the +tailin's when He finished buildin' the world." + +Together the three scaled the steep rock-wall. Alice, scorning +assistance, was the first to reach the top, and once more the splendour +of the magnificent waste held her speechless. + +For some moments they gazed in silence. Before them, bathed in a pale +amethyst haze that thickened to purple at the far-off edge of the +world, lay the bad lands resplendent under the hot glare of the sun in +vivid red and black and pink colouring of the lava rock. Everywhere +the eye met the flash and shimmer of mica fragments that sparkled like +the facets of a million diamonds, while to the northward the Bear Paws +reared cool and green, with the grass of the higher levels reaching +almost to the timber line. + +"Isn't it wonderful?" breathed the girl. "Why do people stay cooped up +in the cities, when out here there is--this?" Endicott's eyes met +hers, and in their depths she perceived a newly awakened fire. She was +conscious of a strange glow at her heart--a mighty gladness welled up +within her, permeating her whole being. "He has awakened," her brain +repeated over and over again, "he has----" + +The voice of the Texan fell upon her ears softly as from a distance, +and she turned her eyes to the boyish faced cow-puncher who viewed life +lightly and who, she had learned, was the thorough master of his +wilderness, and very much a man. + +"I love it too," he was saying. "This bad land best of all. What with +the sheep, an' the nesters, the range country must go. But barbed-wire +can never change this," his arm swept the vast plain before him. "I +suppose God foreseen what the country was comin' to," he speculated, +"an' just naturally stuck up His 'keep off' sign on places here an' +there--the Sahara Desert, an' Death Valley, an' the bad lands. He +wanted somethin' left like He made it. Yonder's the Little Rockies, +an' them big black buttes to the south are the Judith, an' you can +see--way beyond the Judith--if you look close--the Big Snowy Mountains. +They're more than a hundred miles away." + +The cowboy ceased speaking suddenly. And Alice, following his gaze, +made out far to the north-eastward a moving speck. The Texan crouched +and motioned the others into the shelter of a rock. "Wish I had a pair +of glasses," he muttered, with his eyes on the moving dot. + +"What is it?" asked the girl. + +"Rider of some kind. Maybe the I X round-up is workin' the south +slope. An' maybe it's just a horse-thief. But it mightn't be either. +Guess I'll just throw the hull on that cayuse of mine an' siyou down +and see. He's five or six miles off yet, an' I've got plenty of time +to slip down there. Glad the trail's on the west side. You two stay +up here, but you got to be awful careful not to show yourselves. Folks +down below look awful little from here, but if they've got glasses +you'd loom up plenty big, an' posse men's apt to pack glasses." The +two followed him to camp and a few moments later watched him ride off +at a gallop and disappear in the scrub that concealed the mouth of the +precipitous trail. + +Hardly had he passed from sight than Bat rose and, walking to his +saddle, uncoiled his rope. + +"Where are you going?" asked Endicott as the half-breed started toward +the horses. + +"Me, oh, A'm trail long behine. Mebbe-so two kin see better'n wan." + +A few minutes later he too was swallowed up in the timber at the head +of the trail, and Alice and Endicott returned to the rim-rocks and from +a place of concealment watched with breathless interest the course of +the lone horseman. + +After satisfying himself he was unobserved, the Texan pushed from the +shelter of the rocks at the foot of the trail and, circling the butte, +struck into a coulee that led south-eastward into the bad lands. A +mile away he crossed a ridge and gained another coulee which he +followed northward. + +"If he's headin' into the bad lands I'll meet up with him, an' if he's +just skirtin' 'em, our trails'll cross up here a piece," he reasoned as +his horse carried him up the dry ravine at a steady walk. Presently he +slanted into a steep side coulee that led upward to the crest of a long +flat ridge. For a moment he paused as his eyes swept the landscape and +then suddenly a quarter of a mile away a horseman appeared out of +another coulee. He, too, paused and, catching sight of the Texan, dug +in his spurs and came toward him at a run. + +The cowboy's brows drew into a puzzled frown as he studied the rapidly +approaching horseman. "Well, I'll be damned!" he grinned, "ain't he +the friendly young spirit! His ma had ought to look after him better'n +that an' teach him some manners. The idea of any one chargin' up to a +stranger that way in the bad lands! One of these days he's a-goin' to +run up again' an abrupt foreshortin' of his reckless young career." +The rider was close now and the Texan recognized a self-important young +jackass who had found work with one of the smaller outfits. + +"It's that mouthy young short-horn from the K 2," he muttered, +disgustedly. "Well, he'll sure cut loose an' earful of small talk. He +hates himself, like a peacock." The cowboy pulled up his horse with a +vicious jerk that pinked the foam at the animal's mouth and caused a +little cloud of dust to rise into the air. Then, for a moment, he sat +and stared. + +"If you was in such a hell of a hurry," drawled the Texan, "you could +of rode around me. There's room on either side." + +The cowboy found his voice. "Well, by gosh, if it ain't Tex! How they +stackin', old hand?" + +"Howdy," replied the Texan, dryly. + +"You take my advice an' lay low here in the bad lands an' they won't +ketch you. I said it right in the Long Horn yeste'day mornin'--they +was a bunch of us lappin' 'em up. Old Pete was there--an' I says to +Pete, I says, 'Take it from me they might ketch all the rest of 'em but +they won't never ketch Tex!' An' Pete, he says, 'You're just right +there, Joe,' an' then he takes me off to one side, old Pete does, an' +he says, 'Joe,' he says, 'I've got a ticklish job to be done, an' I +ain't got another man I kin bank on puttin' it through.'" + +The Texan happened to know that Mr. Peter G. Kester, owner of the K 2, +was a very dignified old gentleman who left the details of his ranch +entirely in the hands of his foreman, and the idea of his drinking in +the Long Horn with his cowboys was as unique as was hearing him +referred to as "Old Pete." + +"What's ailin' him?" asked the Texan. "Did he lose a hen, or is he +fixin' to steal someone's mewl?" + +"It's them Bar A saddle horses," continued the cowboy, without noticing +the interruption. "He buys a string of twenty three-year-olds offen +the Bar A an' they broke out of the pasture. They range over here on +the south slope, an' if them horse-thieves down in the bad lands has +got 'em they're a-goin' to think twict before they run off any more K 2 +horses, as long as I'm workin' fer the outfit." + +"Are you aimin' to drive twenty head of horses off their own range +single handed?" + +"Sure. You can do it easy if you savvy horses." + +The Texan refrained from comment. He wanted to know who was supposed +to be interested in catching him, and why. Had someone told the truth +about the lynching, and was he really wanted for aiding and abetting +the pilgrim's escape? + +"I reckon that's true," he opined. "They can't get me here in the bad +lands." + +The other laughed: "You bet they can't! Say, that was some ride you +put up down to Wolf River. None of us could have done better." + +"Did you say they was headin' this way?" + +"Who?" + +"Who would I be thinkin' about now, I wonder?" + +"Oh! Naw! They ain't ready to make any arrests yet. The grand jury +set special an' returned a lot of indictments an' you're one of 'em, +but the districk attorney, he claims he can't go ahead until he digs up +the cripus delinkty----" + +"The what?" + +"Oh, that's a nickname the lawyers has got fer a pilgrim." + +"Wasn't one stranglin' enough for spreadin' out Purdy? What do they +want of the pilgrim?" + +"Spreadin' out Purdy!" exclaimed the other, "don't you know that Purdy +didn't stay spread? Wasn't hardly hurt even. The pilgrim's bullet +just barely creased him, an' when Sam Moore went back with a spring +wagon to fetch his remains, Purdy riz up an' started cussin' him out +an' scairt Sam so his team run away an' he lost his voice an' ain't +spoke out loud since--an' them's only one of the things he done. So, +you see, you done your lynching too previous, an' folks is all stirred +up about it, holdin' that lawless acts has got to be put a stop to in +Choteau County, an' a pilgrim has got as good a right to live as the +next one. They're holdin' that even if he had got Purdy it would of +be'n a damn good thing, an' they wasn't no call to stretch a man for +that. So the grand jury set, an' the districk attorney has got a gang +of men diggin' up all the coulees for miles around, a-huntin' for the +pilgrim's cripus delinkty so he kin go ahead with his arrests." + +The eyes of the Texan were fixed on the mountains. He appeared not +interested. Twenty feet away in a deep crevice at the edge of the +coulee, Bat Lajune, who had overheard every word, was convulsed with +silent mirth. + +"You say they've dug up all the coulees? Red Rock an'--an' all, +Buffalo, Six-mile, Woodpile, Miller's?" The Texan shot out the names +with all appearance of nervous haste, but his eye was sombre as before +as he noted the gleam of quick intelligence that flashed into the +cowboy's eyes. "You're sure they dug up Buffalo?" he pressed shrewdly. + +"Yes, I think they finished there." + +The Texan gave a visible sigh of relief. "Say," he asked, presently, +"do you know if they're fordin' at Cow Island this year?" + +"Yes, the Two Bar reps come by that way." + +"I'm right obliged to you. I reckon I'll head north, though. Canada +looks good to me 'til this here wave of virtue blows over. So long." + +"So long, Tex. An', say, there's some of us friends of yourn that's +goin' to see what we kin do about gettin' them indictments squashed. +We don't want to see you boys doin' time fer stretchin' no pilgrim." + +"You won't," answered the Texan. "Toddle along now an' hunt up Mr. +Kester's horses. I want room to think." He permitted himself a broad +smile as the other rode at a gallop toward the mountains, then turned +his horse into the coulee he had just left and allowed him his own pace. + +"So Purdy ain't dead," he muttered, "or was that damned fool lyin'? I +reckon he wasn't lyin' about that, an' the grand jury, an' the district +attorney." Again he smiled. "Let's see how I stack up, now: In the +first place, Win ain't on the run, an' I am--or I'm supposed to be. +But, as long as they don't dig Win up out of the bottom of some coulee, +I'm at large for want of a party of the first part to the alleged +felonious snuffin'-out. Gosh, I bet the boys are havin' fun watchin' +that diggin'. If I was there I'd put in my nights makin' fresh-dug +spots, an' my days watchin' 'em prospect 'em." Then his thoughts +turned to the girl, and for miles he rode unheeding. The sun had swung +well to the westward before the cowboy took notice of his surroundings. +Antelope Butte lay ten or twelve miles away and he headed for it with a +laugh. "You must have thought I sure enough was headin' for Cow Island +Crossing didn't you, you old dogie chaser?" He touched his horse +lightly with his spurs and the animal struck into a long swinging trot. + +"This here's a mixed-up play all around," he muttered. "Win's worryin' +about killin' Purdy--says it's got under his hide 'til he thinks about +it nights. It ain't so much bein' on the run that bothers him as it is +the fact that he's killed a man." He smiled to himself: "A little +worryin' won't hurt him none. Any one that would worry over shootin' a +pup like Purdy ought to worry--whether he done it or not. Then, +there's me. I start out with designs as evil an' triflin' as +Purdy's--only I ain't a brute--an' I winds up by lovin' her. +Yes--that's the word. There ain't no mortal use beatin' around the +bush to fool myself. Spite of silk stockin's she's good clean through. +I reckon, maybe, they're wore more promiscuous in the East. That Eagle +Creek Ranch, if them corrals was fixed up a little an' them old cattle +sheds tore down, an' the ditches gone over, it would be a good outfit. +If it was taken hold of right, there wouldn't be a better proposition +on the South Slope." Gloom settled upon the cowboy's face: "But +there's Win. I started out to show him up." He smiled grimly. "Well, +I did. Only not just exactly as I allowed to. Lookin' over the +back-trail, I reckon, when us four took to the brush there wasn't only +one damned skunk in the crowd--an' that was me. It's funny a man can +be that ornery an' never notice it. But, I bet Bat knew. He's pure +gold, Bat is. He's about as prepossessin' to look at as an old gum +boot, but his heart's all there--an' you bet, Bat, he knows." + +It was within a quarter of a mile of Antelope Butte that the Texan, +riding along the bottom of a wide coulee met another horseman. This +time there was no spurring toward him, and he noticed that the man's +hand rested near his right hip. He shifted his own gun arm and +continued on his course without apparently noticing the other who +approached in the same manner. + +Suddenly he laughed: "Hello, Curt!" + +"Well, I'm damned if it ain't Tex! Thought maybe I was going to get +the high-sign." + +"Same here." Both men relaxed from their attitude of alertness, and +Curt leaned closer. + +"They ain't dug him up yet," he said, "but they sure are slingin' +gravel. I hope to God they don't." + +"They won't." + +"Anything I can do?" + +The Texan shook his head: "Nothin', thanks." + +"Hot as hell fer June, ain't it." + +"Yes; who you ridin' for?" + +"K 2." + +"K 2! Mister Kester moved his outfit over to the south slope?" + +"Naw. I'm huntin' a couple of old brood mares Mister Kester bought +offen the Bar A. They strayed away about a week ago." + +"Alone?" + +"Might better be," replied the cowboy in tones of disgust. "I've got +that damned fool, Joe Ainslee, along--or ruther I had him. Bob +Brumley's foreman of the K 2, now, an' he hired the Wind Bag in a +moment of mental abortion, as the fellow says, an' he don't dast fire +him for fear he'll starve to death. They wouldn't no other outfit have +him around. An' I'm thinkin' he'll be damn lucky if he lives long +enough to starve to death. Bob sent him along with me--said he'd do +less harm than with the round-up, an' would be safer--me bein' amiable +enough not to kill him offhand." + +"Ain't you found your mares?" + +Curt snorted: "Yes. Found 'em couple hours ago. An' now I've lost the +Wind Bag. Them mares was grazin' right plumb in plain sight of where +I'd sent him circlin', an' doggone if he not only couldn't find 'em, +but he's lost hisself. An' if he don't show up pretty damn _pronto_ he +kin stay lost--an' the K 2 will win, at that." + +The Texan grinned: "Go get your mares, Curt. The short-horn has +stampeded. I shouldn't wonder if he's a-foggin' it through the +mountains right now to get himself plumb famous for tippin' off the +district attorney where to do his minin'." + +"You seen him!" + +"Yes, we had quite a little pow-wow." + +"You sure didn't let him git holt of nothin'!" + +"Yes. He's about to bust with the information he gathered. An' say, +he might of seen them mares an' passed 'em up. He ain't huntin' no +brood mares, he's after twenty head of young saddle stock--forgot to +mention there was any one with him. Said it was easy to run +three-year-olds off their own range single handed if you savvied +horses. Called Mister Kester 'Old Pete' an' told of an orgy they had +mutual in the Long Horn." + +Curt burst out laughing: "Can you beat it?" + +"I suppose they'll have Red Rock Coulee all mussed up," reflected the +Texan, with a grin. + +"You wait 'til I tell the boys." + +"Don't you. They'd hurt him. He's a-whirlin' a bigger loop than he +can throw, the way it is." + +Curt fumbled in his slicker and produced a flask which he tendered. + +Tex shook his head: "No thanks, I ain't drinkin'." + +"You ain't _what_?" + +"No, I'm off of it"; he dismounted and tightened his cinch, and the +other followed his example. + +"Off of it! You ain't sick, or nothin'?" + +"No. Can't a man----?" + +"Oh, sure, he could, but he wouldn't, onless--you got your camp near +here?" + +Tex was aware the other was eyeing him closely. + +"Tolerable." + +"Let's go camp then. I left my pack horse hobbled way up on Last +Water." + +The Texan was thinking rapidly. Curt was a friend of long standing and +desired to share his camp, which is the way of the cow country. Yet, +manifestly this was impossible. There was only one way out and that +was to give offence. + +"No. I'm campin' alone these days." + +A slow red mounted to the other's face and his voice sounded a trifle +hard: "Come on up to mine, then. It ain't so far." + +"I said I was campin' alone." + +The red was very apparent now, and the other took a step forward, and +his words came slowly: + +"Peck Maguire told me, an' I shut his dirty mouth for him. But now I +know it's true. You're ridin' with the pilgrim's girl." + +At the inference the Texan whitened to the eyes. "_You're a damned +liar_!" The words came evenly but with a peculiar venom. + +Curt half drew his gun. Then jammed it back in the holster. "Not +between friends," he said shortly, "but jest the same you're goin' to +eat them words. It ain't a trick I'd think of you--to run off with a +man's woman after killin' him. If he was alive it would be different. +I'd ort to shoot it out with you, I suppose, but I can't quite forget +that time in Zortman when you----" + +"Don't let that bother you," broke in the Texan with the same evenness +of tone. "_You're a damned liar_!" + +With a bound the man was upon him and Tex saw a blinding flash of +light, and the next moment he was scrambling from the ground. After +that the fight waxed fast and furious, each man giving and receiving +blows that landed with a force that jarred and rocked. Then, the Texan +landed heavily upon the point of his opponent's chin and the latter +sank limp to the floor of the coulee. For a full minute Tex stood +looking down at his victim. + +"Curt can scrap like the devil. I'm sure glad he didn't force no gun +play, I'd have hated to hurt him." He recovered the flask from the +ground where the other had dropped it, and forced some whiskey between +his lips. Presently the man opened his eyes. + +"Feelin' better?" asked the Texan as Curt blinked up at him. + +"Um-hum. My head aches some." + +"Mine, too." + +"You got a couple of black eyes, an' your lip is swol up." + +"One of yours is turnin' black." + +Curt regained his feet and walked slowly toward his horse. "Well, I'll +be goin'. So long." + +"So long," answered the Texan. He, too, swung into the saddle and each +rode upon his way. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +BACK IN CAMP + +From their place of concealment high upon the edge of Antelope Butte, +Alice Marcum and Endicott watched the movements of the three horsemen +with absorbing interest. They saw the Texan circle to the +south-eastward and swing north to intercept the trail of the unknown +rider. They watched Bat, with Indian cunning, creep to his place of +concealment at the edge of the coulee. They saw the riders disperse, +the unknown to head toward the mountains at a gallop, and the Texan to +turn his horse southward and ride slowly into the bad lands. And they +watched Bat recover his own horse from behind a rock pinnacle and +follow the Texan, always keeping out of sight in parallel coulees until +both were swallowed up in the amethyst haze of the bad lands. + +For an hour they remained in their lookout, pointing out to each other +some new wonder of the landscape--a wind-carved pinnacle, the +heliographic flashing of the mica, or some new combination in the +ever-changing splendour of colours. + +"Whew! But it's hot, and I'm thirsty. And besides it's lunch time." +Alice rose, and with Endicott following, made her way to the camp. + +"Isn't it wonderful?" she breathed, as they ate their luncheon. "This +life in the open--the pure clean air--the magnificent world all spread +out before you, beckoning you on, and on, and on. It makes a person +strong with just the feel of living--the joy of it. Just think, +Winthrop, of being able to eat left-over biscuits and cold bacon and +enjoy it!" + +Endicott smiled: "Haven't I improved enough, yet, for 'Win'?--Tex +thinks so." + +The girl regarded him critically. "I have a great deal of respect for +Tex's judgment," she smiled. + +"Then, dear, I am going to ask you again, the question I have asked you +times out of number: Will you marry me?" + +"Don't spoil it all, now, please. I am enjoying it so. Enjoying being +here with just you and the big West. Oh, this is the real West--the +West of which I've dreamed!" + +Endicott nodded: "Yes, this is the West. You were right, Alice. +California is no more the West than New York is." + +"Don't you love it?" The girl's eyes were shining with enthusiasm. + +"Yes. I love it," he answered, and she noticed that his face was very +grave. "There must be something--some slumbering ego in every man that +awakens at the voice of the wild places. Our complex system of +civilization seems to me, as I sit here now, a little thing--a thing, +somehow, remote--unnecessary, and very undesirable." + +"Brooklyn seems very far away," murmured the girl. + +"And Cincinnati--but not far enough away. We know they are real--that +they actually exist." Endicott rose and paced back and forth. +Suddenly he stopped before the girl. "Marry me, Alice, and I'll buy a +ranch and we will live out here, and for us Brooklyn and Cincinnati +need never exist. I do love it all, but I love you a thousand times +more." + +To Endicott's surprise the girl's eyes dropped before his gaze and +rested for a long time upon the grazing horses--then abruptly she +buried her face in her arms. The man had half expected a return to the +light half-mocking raillery that had been her staunchest weapon, but +there was nothing even remotely suggestive of raillery in the figure +that huddled at his feet. Suddenly, his face became very grave: +"Alice," he cried, bending over her, "is it because my hands are red? +Because I have taken a human life, and am flying from the hand of the +law like a common murderer?" + +"No, no, no! Not that? I----" + +Swiftly he gathered her into his arms, but she freed herself and shook +her head in protest. "Don't please," she pleaded softly. "Oh, I--I +can't choose." + +"Choose!" cried Endicott. "Then there is--someone else? You have +found--" he stopped abruptly and drew a long breath. "I see," he said, +gently, "I think I understand." + +The unexpected gentleness of the voice caused the girl to raise her +head. Endicott stood as he had stood a moment before, but his gaze was +upon the far mountains. The girl's eyes were wet with tears: "Yes, +I--he loves me--and he asked me to marry him. He said I would marry +either you or him, and he would wait for me to decide--until I was +sure." Her voice steadied, and Endicott noticed that it held a trace +of defensive. "He's a dear, and--I know--way down in his heart he's +good--he's----" + +Endicott smiled: "Yes, little girl, he is good. He's a man--every inch +of him. And he's a man among men. He's honest and open hearted and +human. There is not a mean hair in his head. And he stands a great +deal nearer the top of his profession than I do to the top of mine. I +have been a fool, Alice. I can see now what a complacent fool and a +cad I must have been--when I could look at these men and see nothing +but uncouthness. But, thank God, men can change----" + +Impulsively the girl reached for his hand: "No," she murmured, +remembering the words of the Texan, "no, the man was there all the +time. The real man that is _you_ was concealed by the unreal man that +is superficiality." + +"Thank you, Alice," he said gravely. "And for your sake--and I say it +an all sincerity--let the best man win!" + +The girl smiled up into his face: "And in all sincerity I will say that +in all your life you have never seemed so--so marryable as you do right +now." + +While Endicott cut a supply of fire-wood and tinkered about the spring, +the girl made a complete circuit of the little plateau, and as the +shadows began to lengthen they once more climbed to their lookout +station. For an hour the vast corrugated plane before them showed no +sign of life. Suddenly the girl's fingers clutched Endicott's arm and +she pointed to a lone horseman who rode from the north. + +"I wonder if he's the same one we saw before--the one who rode away so +fast?" + +"Not unless he has changed horses," answered Endicott. "The other rode +a grey." + +The man swung from his horse and seemed to be minutely studying the +ground. Then he mounted and headed down the coulee at a trot. + +"Look! There is Tex!" cried Endicott, and he pointed farther down the +same coulee. A sharp bend prevented either rider from noticing the +approach of the other. + +"Oh, I wonder who it is, and what will happen when they see each +other?" cried the girl. "Look! There is Bat. Near the top of that +ridge. He's cutting across so he'll be right above them when they +meet." She was leaning forward watching: breathlessly the movements of +the three horsemen. "It is unreal. Just like some great spectacular +play. You see the actors moving through their parts and you wonder +what is going to happen next and how it is all going to work out." + +"There! They see each other!" Endicott exclaimed. Each horseman +pulled up, hesitated a moment, and rode on. Distance veiled from the +eager onlookers the significant detail of the shifted gun arms. But no +such preclusion obstructed Bat's vision as he lay flattened upon the +rim of the coulee with the barrel of his six-gun resting upon the edge +of a rock, and its sights lined low upon the stranger's armpit. + +"They've dismounted," observed Alice, "I believe Tex is going to +unsaddle." + +"Tightening his cinch," ventured Endicott, and was interrupted by a cry +from the lips of the girl. + +"Look! The other! He's going to shoot---- Why, they're fighting!" +Fighting they certainly were, and Endicott stared in surprise as he saw +the Texan knocked down and then spring to his feet and attack his +assailant with a vigour that rendered impossible any further attempt to +follow the progress of the combat. + +"Why doesn't Bat shoot, or go down there and help him?" cried the girl, +as with clenched fists she strained her eyes in a vain effort to see +who was proving the victor. + +"This does not seem to be a shooting affair," Endicott answered, "and +it is my own private opinion that Tex is abundantly able to take care +of himself. Ah--he got him that time! He's down for the count! Good +work, Tex, old man! A good clean knockout!" + +The two watched as the men mounted and rode their several ways--the +stranger swinging northward toward the mountains, and the Texan +following along the south face of the butte. + +"Some nice little meetings they have out here," grinned Endicott. "I +wonder if the vanquished one was a horse-thief or just an ordinary +friend." + +Alice returned the smile: "You used to rather go in for boxing in +college, didn't you?" + +"Oh, yes. I can hold my own when it comes to fists---- + +"And--you can shoot." + +The man shook his head: "Do you know that was the first time I ever +fired a pistol in my life. I don't like to think about it. And yet--I +am always thinking about it! I have killed a man--have taken a human +life. I did it without malice--without forethought. All I knew was +that you were in danger, then I saw him fling you from him--the pistol +was in my hand, and I fired." + +"You need have no regrets," answered the girl, quickly. "It was his +life or both of ours--worse than that--a thousand times worse." + +Endicott was silent as the two turned toward the plateau. "Why, +there's Bat's horse, trotting over to join the others, and unsaddled, +too," cried Alice. "He has beaten Tex to camp. Bat is a dear, and he +just adores the ground Tex walks on, or 'rides on' would be more +appropriate, for I don't think he ever walked more than a hundred feet +in his life." + +Sure enough, when they reached camp there sat the half-breed placidly +mending a blanket, with the bored air of one upon whom time hangs +heavily. He looked up as Endicott greeted him. + +"Mebbe-so dat better you don' say nuttin' 'bout A'm gon' 'way from +here," he grinned. "Tex she com' 'long pret' queek, now. Mebbe-so he +t'ink dat better A'm stay roun' de camp. But _Voila_! How A'm know he +ain' gon for git hurt?" + +"But he did--" Alice paused abruptly with the sentences unfinished, +for the sound of galloping hoofs reached her ears and she looked up to +see the Texan swing from his horse, strip off the saddle and bridle and +turn the animal loose. + +"Oh," she cried, as the man joined them after spreading his saddle +blanket to dry. "Your eyes are swollen almost shut and your lip is +bleeding!" + +"Yes," answered the cowboy with a contortion of the stiff, swollen lip +that passed for a smile. "I rounded the bend in a coulee down yonder +an' run plumb against a hard projection." + +"They certainly are hard--I have run against those projections myself," +grinned Endicott. "You see, we had what you might call ringside seats, +and I noticed that it didn't take you very long to come back with some +mighty stiff projecting yourself." + +"Yes. Him pastin' me between the eyes that way, I took as an +onfriendly act, an' one I resented." + +"That wallop you landed on his chin was a beautiful piece of work." + +"Yes, quite comely." The cowboy wriggled his fingers painfully. "But +these long-horns that's raised on salt-horse an' rawhide, maintains a +jaw on 'em that makes iron an' granite seem right mushy. I didn't +figure I'd recount the disturbance, aimin' to pass it off casual +regardin' the disfigurin' of my profile. But if you-all witnessed the +debate, I might as well go ahead an' oncork the details. In the first +place, this warrior is a deputy that's out after Win." + +The Texan glanced sharply at Bat who became suddenly seized with a fit +of coughing, but the face of the half-breed was impassive--even sombre +as he worked at the blanket. "It's all owin' to politics," continued +the cowpuncher, rolling and lighting a cigarette. "Politics, an' the +fact that the cow country is in its dotage. Choteau County is growin' +effeminate, not to say right down effete when a lynchin', that by +rights it would be stretching its importance even to refer to it in +conversation, is raised to the dignity of a political issue. As +everyone knows, a hangin' is always a popular play, riddin' the +community of an ondesirable, an' at the same time bein' a warnin' to +others to polish up their rectitude. But it seems, from what I was +able to glean, that this particular hangin' didn't win universal +acclaim, owin' to the massacre of Purdy not bein' deplored none." + +Once more the half-breed emitted a strangling cough, and Tex eyed him +narrowly. "Somethin' seems to ail your throat." + +"_Oui_, A'm swal' de piece tabac'." + +"Well just hang onto it 'til it gets a little darker an' we'll have +supper," said the Texan, dryly, and resumed. + +"So there was some talk disparagin' to the lynchin', an' the party +that's in, holdin' its tenure by the skin of its teeth, an' election +comin' on, sided in with public opinion an' frowned on the lynchin', +not as a hangin', you onderstand, but because the hangin' didn't +redound none to their particular credit--it not being legal an' +regular. All this is brewed while the dance is goin' on, an' by +breakfast time next mornin', there bein' a full quorum of Republican +war chiefs on hand, they pulls a pow-wow an' instructs their deputies +to round up the lynchers. This is done, barrin' a few that's flitted, +the boys bein' caught unawares. Well, things begun lookin' serious to +'em, an' as a last resort they decided to fall back on the truth. So +they admits that there ain't no lynchin'. They tells how, after they'd +got out on the bench a piece they got to thinkin' that the demise of +Purdy ain't a serious matter, nohow, so they turned him loose. 'Where +is he, then?' says a county commissioner. 'Search us,' replies the +culprits. 'We just turned him loose an' told him to _vamoose_. We +didn't stick around an' herd him!'" Again Bat coughed, and the Texan +glared at him. + +"Maybe a drink of water would help them lacerated pipes of yourn," he +suggested, "an' besides it's dark enough so you can start supper +a-goin'." + +"But," said Endicott, "won't that get the boys all into serious trouble +for aiding and abetting a prisoner to escape? Accessories after the +fact, is what the law calls them." + +"Oh Lord," groaned the Texan inwardly. "If I can steer through all +this without ridin' into my own loop, I'll be some liar. This on top +of what I told 'em in Wolf River, an' since, an' about Purdy's +funeral--I dastn't bog down, now!" + +"No," he answered, as he lighted another cigarette. "There comes in +your politics again. You see, there was twenty-some-odd of us--an' +none friendless. Take twenty-odd votes an' multiply 'em by the number +of friends each has got--an' I reckon ten head of friends apiece +wouldn't overshoot the figure--an' you've got between two hundred an' +three hundred votes--which is a winnin' majority for any candidate +among 'em. Knowin' this, they wink at the jail delivery an' cinch +those votes. But, as I said before, hangin' is always a popular +measure, an' as they want credit for yourn, they start all the deputies +they got out on a still-hunt for you, judgin' it not to be hard to find +a pilgrim wanderin' about at large. An' this party I met up with was +one of 'em." + +"Did he suspect that we were with you?" asked Alice, her voice +trembling with anxiety. + +"Such was the case--his intimation bein' audible, and venomous. I +denied it in kind, an' one word leadin' to another, he called me a +liar. To which statement, although to a certain extent veracious, I +took exception, an' in the airy persiflage that ensued, he took umbrage +to an extent that it made him hostile. Previous to this little +altercation, he an' I had been good friends, and deemin', rightly, that +it wasn't a shootin' matter, he ondertook to back up his play with his +fists, and he hauled off an' smote me between the eyes before I'd +devined his intentions. Judgin' the move unfriendly, not to say right +downright aggressive, I come back at him with results you-all noted. +An' that's all there was to the incident of me showin' up with black +eyes, an' a lip that would do for a pin cushion." + +All during supper and afterward while the half-breed was washing the +dishes, the Texan eyed him sharply, and several times caught the flash +of a furtive smile upon the habitually sombre face. + +"He knows somethin' mirthful," thought the cowboy, "I noticed it +particular, when I was flounderin' up to my neck in the mire of +deception. The old reprobate ain't easy amused, either." + +Alice retired early, and before long Endicott, too, sought his +blankets. The moon rose, and the Texan strolled over to the grazing +horses. Returning, he encountered Bat seated upon a rock at some +distance from camp, watching him. The half-breed was grinning openly +now, broadly, and with evident enjoyment. Tex regarded him with a +frown: "For a Siwash you're plumb mirthful an' joyous minded. In fact +I ain't noticed any one so wrapped up in glee for quite a spell. +Suppose you just loosen up an' let me in on the frivolity, an' at the +same time kind of let it appear where you put in the day. I mistrusted +my packin' a pair of purple ones wouldn't give you the whoopin' cough, +so I just sauntered over an' took a look at the cayuses. Yourn's be'n +rode 'til he's sweat under the blanket--an' he ain't soft neither." + +"_Oui_, A'm fol' 'long we'n you make de ride. A'm t'ink mebbe-so two +better'n wan." + +"Well, I was weaned right young, an' I don't need no governess. After +this you----" + +The half-breed shrugged: "A'm tink dat tam way back in Las Vegas dat +dam' good t'ing ol' Bat fol' 'long, or else, ba Goss, you gon' to hell +for sure." + +"But that's no sign I've always got to be close-herded. Did you sneak +up near enough to hear what the short-horn said?" + +"_Oui_, A'm hear dat. She mak' me laugh lak' hell." + +"Laugh! I didn't see nothin' so damn hilarious in it. What do you +think about Purdy?" + +"A'm tink dat dam' bad luck she no git keel." The half-breed paused +and grinned: "De pilgrim she mak' de run for nuttin', an' you got to +ke'p on lyin' an' lyin', an bye-m-bye you got so dam' mooch lies you +git los'. So far, dat work out pret' good. De pilgrim gon' ke'p on de +run, 'cause he no lak' for git stretch for politick, an' you git mor' +chance for make de play for de girl." + +"What do you mean?" The Texan's eyes flashed. "I just knocked the +livin' hell out of one fellow for makin' a crack about that girl." + +"_Oui_, A'm know 'bout dat, too. Dat was pret' good, but nex' tam dat +better you start in fightin' fore you git knock clean across de coulee +firs'. A'm lak dat girl. She dam' fine 'oman, you bet. A'm no lak' +she git harm." + +"See here, Bat," interrupted the Texan, "no matter what my intentions +were when I started out, they're all right now." + +"_Oui_, A'm know dat, 'bout two day." + +"It's this way, I be'n thinkin' quite a bit the last couple of days +there ain't a thing in hellin' around the country punchin' other folks' +cattle for wages. It's time I was settlin' down. If that girl will +take a long shot an' marry me, I'm goin' to rustle around an' start an +outfit of my own. I'll be needin' a man about your heft an' complexion +to help me run it, too--savvy?" + +The half-breed nodded slowly. "_Oui_, all de tam A'm say: 'Some tam +Tex she queet de dam' foolin', an' den she git to be de beeg man.' I +ain' tink you git dis 'oman, but dat don' mak' no differ', som' tam you +be de beeg man yet. Som' nodder 'oman com' 'long----" + +"To hell with some other woman!" flared the Texan. "I tell you I'll +have that girl or I'll never look at another woman. There ain't +another woman in the world can touch her. You think you're wise as +hell, but I'll show you!" + +The half-breed regarded him gloomily: "A'm tink dat 'oman de pilgrim +'oman." + +"Oh, you do, do you? Well, just you listen to me. She ain't--not yet. +It's me an' the pilgrim for her. If she ties to him instead of me, +it's all right. She'll get a damn good man. Take me, an' all of a +sudden throw me into the middle of _his_ country, an' I doubt like hell +if I'd show up as good as he did in mine. Whatever play goes on +between me an' the pilgrim, will be on the square--with one deck, an' +the cards on the table. There's only one thing I'm holdin' out on him, +an' that is about Purdy. An' that ain't an onfair advantage, because +it's his own fault he's worryin' about it. An' if it gives me a better +chance with her, I'm goin' to grab it. An' I'll win, too. But, if I +don't win, I don't reckon it'll kill me. Sometimes when I get to +thinkin' about it I almost wish it would--I'm that damned close to +bein' yellow." + +Bat laughed. The idea of the Texan being yellow struck him as +humorous. "I'm wonder how mooch more beeg lie you got for tell, eh?" + +Tex was grinning now, "Search me. I had to concoct some excuse for +getting 'em started--two or three excuses. An' it looks like I got to +keep on concoctin' 'em to keep 'em goin'. But it don't hurt no +one--lyin' like that, don't. It don't hurt the girl, because she's +bound to get one of us. It don't hurt the pilgrim, because we'll see +him through to the railroad. It don't hurt you, because you don't +believe none of it. An' it don't hurt me, because I'm used to it--an' +there you are. But that don't give you no license to set around an' +snort an' gargle while I'm tellin' 'em. I got trouble enough keepin' +'em plausible an' entangled, without you keepin' me settin' on a cactus +for fear you'll give it away. What you got to do is to back up my +play--remember them four bits I give you way back in Los Vegas? Well, +here's where I'm givin' you a chance to pay dividends on them four +bits." + +Bat grinned: "You go 'head an' mak' you play. You fin' out I ain't +forgit dat four bit. She ain' mooch money--four bit ain'. But w'en +she all you got, she wan hell of a lot . . . _bien_!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +IN THE BAD LANDS + +It was well toward noon on the following day when the four finally +succeeded in locating the grub cache of the departed horse-thief. Nearly +two years had passed since the man had described the place to Tex and a +two-year-old description of a certain small, carefully concealed cavern +in a rock-wall pitted with innumerable similar caverns is a mighty +slender peg to hang hopes upon. + +"It's like searching for buried treasure!" exclaimed Alice as she pried +and prodded among the rocks with a stout stick. + +"There won't be much treasure, even if we find the _cache_," smiled Tex. +"Horse thievin' had got onpopular to the extent there wasn't hardly a +livin' in it long before this specimen took it up as a profession. We'll +be lucky if we find any grub in it." + +A few moments later Bat unearthed the _cache_ and, as the others crowded +about, began to draw out its contents. + +"Field mice," growled Tex, as the half-breed held up an empty canvas bag +with its corner gnawed to shreds. Another gnawed bag followed, and +another. + +"We don't draw no flour, nor rice, not jerky, anyhow," said the puncher, +examining the bags. "Nor bacon, either. The only chance we stand to +make a haul is on the air-tights." + +"What are air-tights?" asked the girl. + +"Canned stuff--tomatoes are the best for this kind of weather--keep you +from gettin' thirsty. I've be'n in this country long enough to pretty +much know its habits, but I never saw it this hot in June." + +"She feel lak' dat dam' Yuma bench, but here is only de rattlesnake. We +don' got to all de tam hont de pizen boog. Dat ain' no good for git so +dam' hot--she burn' oop de range. If it ain' so mooch danger for Win to +git hang--" He paused and looked at Tex with owlish solemnity. "A'm no +lak we cross dem bad lands. Better A'm lak we gon' back t'rough de +mountaine." + +"You dig out them air-tights, if there's any in there, an' quit your +croakin'!" ordered the cowboy. + +And with a grin Bat thrust in his arm to the shoulder. One by one he +drew out the tins--eight in all, and laid them in a row. The labels had +disappeared and the Texan stood looking down at them. + +"Anyway we have these," smiled the girl, but the cowboy shook his head. + +"Those big ones are tomatoes, an' the others are corn, an' peas--but, it +don't make any difference." He pointed to the cans in disgust: "See +those ends bulged out that way? If we'd eat any of the stuff in those +cans we'd curl up an' die, _pronto_. Roll 'em back, Bat, we got grub +enough without 'em. Two days will put us through the bad lands an' we've +got plenty. We'll start when the moon comes up." + +All four spent the afternoon in the meagre shade of the bull pine, +seeking some amelioration from the awful scorching heat. But it was +scant protection they got, and no comfort. The merciless rays of the sun +beat down upon the little plateau, heating the rocks to a degree that +rendered them intolerable to the touch. No breath of air stirred. The +horses ceased to graze and stood in the scrub with lowered heads and +wide-spread legs, sweating. + +Towards evening a breeze sprang up from the southeast, but it was a +breeze that brought with it no atom of comfort. It blew hot and stifling +like the scorching blast of some mighty furnace. For an hour after the +sun went down in a glow of red the super-heated rocks continued to give +off their heat and the wind swept, sirocco-like, over the little camp. +Before the after-glow had faded from the sky the wind died and a +delicious coolness pervaded the plateau. + +"It hardly seems possible," said Alice, as she breathed deeply of the +vivifying air, "that in this very spot only a few hours ago we were +gasping for breath. + +"You can always bank on the nights bein' cold," answered Tex, as he +proceeded to build the fire. "We'll rustle around and get supper out of +the way an' the outfit packed an' we can pull our freight as soon as it's +light enough. The moon ought to show up by half-past ten or eleven, an' +we can make the split rock water-hole before it gets too hot for the +horses to travel. It's the hottest spell for June I ever saw and if she +don't let up tomorrow the range will be burnt to a frazzle." + +Bat cast a weather-wise eye toward the sky which, cloudless, nevertheless +seemed filmed with a peculiar haze that obscured the million lesser stars +and distorted the greater ones, so that they showed sullen and angry and +dull like the malignant pustules of a diseased skin. + +"A'm t'ink she gon' for bus' loose pret' queek." + +"Another thunder storm and a deluge of rain?" asked Alice. + +The half-breed shrugged: "I ain' know mooch 'bout dat. I ain' t'ink she +feel lak de rain. She ain' feel good." + +"Leave off croakin', Bat, an' get to work an' pack," growled the Texan. +"There'll be plenty time to gloom about the weather when it gets here." +An hour later the outfit was ready for the trail. + +"Wish we had one of them African water-bags," said the cowboy, as he +filled his flask at the spring. "But I guess this will do 'til we strike +the water-hole." + +"Where is that whiskey bottle?" asked Endicott. "We could take a chance +on snake-bite, dump out the booze, and use the bottle for water." + +The Texan shook his head: "I had bad luck with that bottle; it knocked +against a rock an' got busted. So we've got to lump the snake-bite with +the thirst, an' take a chance on both of 'em." + +"How far is the water-hole?" Alice asked, as she eyed the flask that the +cowboy was making fast in his slicker. + +"About forty miles, I reckon. We've got this, and three cans of +tomatoes, but we want to go easy on 'em, because there's a good ride +ahead of us after we hit Split Rock, an' that's the only water, except +poison springs, between here an' the old Miszoo." + +Bat, who had come up with the horses, pointed gloomily at the moon which +had just topped the shoulder of a mountain. "She all squash down. Dat +ain' no good she look so red." The others followed his gaze, and for a +moment all stared at the distorted crimson oblong that hung low above the +mountains. A peculiar dull luminosity radiated from the misshapen orb +and bathed the bad lands in a flood of weird murky light. + +"Come on," cried Tex, swinging into his saddle, "we'll hit the trail +before this old Python here finds something else to forebode about. For +all I care the moon can turn green, an' grow a hump like a camel just so +she gives us light enough to see by." He led the way across the little +plateau and the others followed. With eyes tight-shut and hands gripping +the saddle-horn, Alice gave her horse full rein as he followed the +Texan's down the narrow sloping ledge that answered for a trail. Nor did +she open her eyes until the reassuring voice of the cowboy told her the +danger was past. + +Tex led the way around the base of the butte and down into the coulee he +had followed the previous day. "We've got to take it easy this trip," he +explained. "There ain't any too much light an' we can't take any chances +on holes an' loose rocks. It'll be rough goin' all the way, but a good +fast walk ought to put us half way, by daylight, an' then we can hit her +up a little better." The moon swung higher and the light increased +somewhat, but at best it was poor enough, serving only to bring out the +general outlines of the trail and the bolder contour of the coulee's rim. +No breath of the wind stirred the air that was cold, with a dank, clammy +coldness--like the dead air of a cistern. As she rode, the girl noticed +the absence of its buoyant tang. The horses' hoofs rang hollow and thin +on the hard rock of the coulee bed, and even the frenzied yapping of a +pack of coyotes, sounded uncanny and far away. Between these sounds the +stillness seemed oppressive--charged with a nameless feeling of +unwholesome portent. "It is the evil spell of the bad lands," thought +the girl, and shuddered. + +Dawn broke with the moon still high above the western skyline. The sides +of the coulee had flattened and they traversed a country of low-lying +ridges and undulating rock-basins. As the yellow rim of the sun showed +above the crest of a far-off ridge, their ears caught the muffled roar of +wind. From the elevation of a low hill the four gazed toward the west +where a low-hung dust-cloud, lowering, ominous, mounted higher and higher +as the roar of the wind increased. The air about them remained +motionless--dead. Suddenly it trembled, swirled, and rushed forward to +meet the oncoming dust-cloud as though drawn toward it by the suck of a +mighty vortex. + +"Dat better we gon' for hont de hole. Dat dust sto'm she raise hell." + +"Hole up, nothin'!" cried the Texan; "How are we goin' to hole up--four +of us an' five horses, on a pint of water an' three cans of tomatoes? +When that storm hits it's goin' to be hot. We've just naturally got to +make that water-hole! Come on, ride like the devil before she hits, +because we're goin' to slack up considerable, directly." + +The cowboy led the way and the others followed, urging their horses at +top speed. The air was still cool, and as she rode, Alice glanced over +her shoulder toward the dust cloud, nearer now, by many miles. The roar +of the wind increased in volume. "It's like the roar of the falls at +Niagara," she thought, and spurred her horse close beside the Texan's. + +"Only seventeen or eighteen miles," she heard him say, as her horse drew +abreast. "The wind's almost at our back, an' that'll help some." He +jerked the silk scarf from his neck and extended it toward her. "Cover +your mouth an' nose with that when she hits. An' keep your eyes shut. +We'll make it all right, but it's goin' to be tough." A mile further on +the storm burst with the fury of a hurricane. The wind roared down upon +them like a blast from hell. Daylight blotted out, and where a moment +before the sun had hung like a burnished brazen shield, was only a dim +lightening of the impenetrable fog of grey-black dust. The girl opened +her eyes and instantly they seemed filled with a thousand needles that +bit and seared and caused hot stinging tears to well between the +tight-closed lids. She gasped for breath and her lips and tongue went +dry. Sand gritted against her teeth as she closed them, and she tried in +vain to spit the dust from her mouth. She was aware that someone was +tying the scarf about her head, and close against her ear she heard the +voice of the Texan: "Breathe through your nose as long as you can an' +then through your teeth. Hang onto your saddle-horn, I've got your +reins. An' whatever you do, keep your eyes shut, this sand will cut 'em +out if you don't." She turned her face for an instant toward the west, +and the sand particles drove against her exposed forehead and eyelids +with a force that caused the stinging tears to flow afresh. Then she +felt her horse move slowly, jerkily at first, then more easily as the +Texan swung him in beside his own. + +"We're all right now," he shouted at the top of his lungs to make himself +heard above the roar of the wind. And then it seemed to the girl they +rode on and on for hours without a spoken word. She came to tell by the +force of the wind whether they travelled along ridges, or wide low +basins, or narrow coulees. Her lips dried and cracked, and the fine dust +and sand particles were driven beneath her clothing until her skin +smarted and chafed under their gritty torture. Suddenly the wind seemed +to die down and the horses stopped. She heard the Texan swing to the +ground at her side, and she tried to open her eyes but they were glued +fast. She endeavoured to speak and found the effort a torture because of +the thick crusting of alkali dust and sand that tore at her broken lips. +The scarf was loosened and allowed to fall about her neck. She could +hear the others dismounting and the loud sounds with which the horses +strove to rid their nostrils of the crusted grime. + +"Just a minute, now, an' you can open your eyes," the Texan's words fell +with a dry rasp of his tongue upon his caked lips. She heard a slight +splashing sound and the next moment the grateful feel of water was upon +her burning eyelids, as the Texan sponged at them with a saturated bit of +cloth. + +"The water-hole!" she managed to gasp. + +"There's water here," answered the cowboy, evasively, "hold still, an' in +a minute you can open your eyes." Very gently he continued to sponge at +her lids. Her eyes opened and she started back with a sharp cry. The +three men before her were unrecognizable in the thick masks of dirt that +encased their faces--masks that showed only thin red slits for eyes, and +thick, blood-caked excrescences where lips should have been. + +"Water!" Endicott cried, and Alice was sure she heard the dry click of +his tongue against the roof of his mouth. The girl saw that they were in +a cavern formed by a mud crack whose walls had toppled together. Almost +at her feet was a small pool, its surface covered with a film of dust. +Endicott stepped toward it, but the Texan barred the way. + +"Don't drink that! It might be a poison spring--most of 'em are down +here. It's the meanest death there is, the bellyache an' cramps that +comes from drinkin' poison water. Watch the horses. If they will drink +it, we can. He led his horse to the pool into which the animal thrust +his nose half way to the eyes. Only a moment he held it there, then with +a thrash of disappointment that sent the water splashing over the +dust-coated rocks, he raised his head and stood with the water dripping +in streams from his muzzle. He pawed at the ground, shook his head +wrathfully, and turned in disgust from the water-hole. + +"Poison," announced the Texan. "We can rinse out our mouths with it an' +clean out our eyes an' wash our faces, an' do the same for the horses, +but we can't swallow not even a drop of it, or us an' the angels will be +swappin' experiences about this time tomorrow." He turned to Alice: +"Ladies first. Just take your handkerchief an' wet it an' swab out your +mouth an' when you're through there's a good drink of real water waitin' +for you in the flask." + +When she had done, the three men followed her example, and the Texan +tendered the bottle: + +"Take all you need, there's plenty," he said. But she would take only a +swallow which she held in her mouth and allowed to trickle down her +throat. Endicott did the same and Bat, whereupon the cowboy replaced the +cork to the bottle and was about to return it to his slicker when the +girl caught his arm. + +"You didn't drink any!" she cried, but he overrode her protest. + +"I ain't thirsty," he said almost gruffly. "You better catch you a +little rest, because as soon as we get these horses fixed up, we're goin' +to pull out of here." The girl assayed a protest, but Tex turned +abruptly away and the three fell to work removing the caked dust from the +eyes and nostrils of the horses, and rinsing out their mouths. When they +finished, Tex turned to Bat. + +"How far d'you reckon it is to the water-hole?" he asked. + +The half-breed shrugged: "Mebbe-so fi' mile, mebbe-so ten. I ain' know +dis place. A'm t'ink we los'." + +"Lost!" snorted the Texan, contemptuously. "You're a hell of an Injun, +you are, to get lost in broad daylight in sight of the Bear Paws. I +ain't lost, if you are, an' I tell you we camp at that water-hole +tonight!" + +Again the half-breed shrugged: "I ain' see no mountaine. I ain' see no +mooch daylight, neider. Too mooch de dam' dus'--too mooch san'--too +mooch de win' blow. If we com' by de water-hole, A'm t'ink dat dam' +lucky t'ing." + +Tex regarded him with disapproval: "Climb onto your horse, old Calamity +Jane, an' we'll mosey along. A dry camp is better than this--at least +nobody can crawl around in their sleep an' drink a snifter of poison." He +helped Alice from the ground where she sat propped against a rock and +assisted her to mount, being careful to adjust the scarf over her nose +and mouth. + +As the horses with lowered heads bored through the dust-storm the Texan +cursed himself unmercifully. "This is all your fault, you damned +four-flusher! You would run a girl--that girl, into a hole like this, +would you? You low-lived skunk, you! You think you're fit to marry her, +do you? Well, you ain't! You ain't fit to be mentioned in the same +language she is! You'll get 'em all out of here or, by God, you'll never +get out yourself--an' I'm right here to see that that goes! An' you'll +find that water-hole, too! An' after you've found it, an' got 'em all +out of this jack-pot, you'll h'ist up on your hind legs an' tell 'em the +whole damn facts in the case, an' if Win jumps in an' just naturally mops +up hell with you, it'll be just what you've got comin' to you--if he does +a good job, it will." Mile after mile the horses drifted before the +wind, heads hung low and ears drooping. In vain the Texan tried to +pierce the impenetrable pall of flying dust for a glimpse of a familiar +landmark. "We ought to be hittin' that long black ridge, or the soda +hill by now," he muttered. "If we miss 'em both--God!" + +The half-breed pushed his horse close beside him: "We mus' got to camp," +he announced with his lips to the Texan's ear. "De hosses beginnin' to +shake." + +"How far can they go?" + +"Camp now. Beside de cut-bank here. Dem hoss she got for res' queek or, +ba Goss, she die." + +Tex felt his own horse tremble and he knew the half-breed's words were +true. With an oath he swung into the sheltered angle of the cut-bank +along which they were travelling. Bat jerked the pack from the +lead-horse and produced clothing and blankets, dripping wet from the +saturation he had given them in the poison spring. While the others +repeated the process of the previous camp, Bat worked over the horses +which stood in a dejected row with their noses to the base of the +cut-bank. + +"We'll save the water an' make tomatoes do," announced the Texan, as with +his knife he cut a hole in the top of a can. "This storm is bound to let +up pretty quick an' then we'll hit for the waterhole. It can't be far +from here. We'll tap two cans an' save one an' the water--the flask's +half full yet." + +Never in her life, thought Alice, as she and Endicott shared their can of +tomatoes, had she tasted anything half so good. The rich red pulp and +the acid juice, if it did not exactly quench the burning thirst, at least +made it bearable, and in a few minutes she fell asleep protected from the +all pervading dust by one of the wet blankets. The storm roared on. At +the end of a couple of hours Bat rose and silently saddled his horse. +"A'm gon' for fin' dat water-hole," he said, when the task was completed. +"If de sto'm stop, a'right. If it don' stop, you gon' on in de mornin'." +He placed one of the empty tomato cans in his slicker, and as he was +about to mount both Endicott and Tex shook his hand. + +"Good luck to you, Bat," said Endicott, with forced cheerfulness. The +Texan said never a word, but after a long look into the half-breed's +eyes, turned his head swiftly away. + +Both Tex and Endicott slept fitfully, throwing the blankets from their +heads at frequent intervals to note the progress of the storm. Once +during the night the Texan visited the horses. The three saddle animals +stood hobbled with their heads close to the cut-bank, but the pack-horse +was gone. "Maybe you'll find it," he muttered, "but the best bet is, you +won't. I gave my horse his head for an hour before we camped, an' he +couldn't find it." Tex sat up after that, with his back to the wall of +the coulee. With the first hint of dawn Endicott joined him. The wind +roared with unabated fury as he crawled to the cowboy's side. He held up +the half-filled water flask and the Texan regarded him with red-rimmed +eyes. + +"This water," asked the man, "it's for her, isn't it?" Tex nodded. +Without a word Endicott crawled to the side of the sleeping girl and +gently drew the blanket from her face. He carefully removed the cork +from the bottle and holding it close above the parched lips allowed a few +drops of the warm fluid to trickle between them. The lips moved and the +sleeping girl swallowed the water greedily. With infinite pains the man +continued the operation doling the precious water out a little at a time +so as not to waken her. At last the bottle was empty, and, replacing the +blanket, he returned to the Texan's side. "She wouldn't have taken it if +she had known," he whispered. "She would have made us drink some." + +Tex nodded, with his eyes on the other's face. + +"An' you're nothin' but a damned pilgrim!" he breathed, softly. Minutes +passed as the two men sat silently side by side. The Texan spoke, as if +to himself: "It's a hell of a way to die--for her." + +"We'll get through somehow," Endicott said, hopefully. + +Tex did not reply, but sat with his eyes fixed on the horses. Presently +he got up, walked over and examined each one carefully. "Only two of 'em +will travel, Win. Yours is all in." He saddled the girl's horse and his +own, leaving them still hobbled. Then he walked over and picked up the +empty tomato can and the bottle. "You've got to drink," he said, "or +you'll die--me, too. An' maybe that water ain't enough for her, either." +He drew a knife from his pocket and walked to Endicott's horse. + +"What are you going to do?" cried the other, his eyes wide with horror. + +"It's blood, or nothin'," answered the Texan, as he passed his hand along +the horse's throat searching for the artery. + +Endicott nodded: "I suppose you're right, but it seems--cold blooded." + +"I'd shoot him first, but there's no use wakin' her. We can tell her the +horse died." There was a swift twisting of the cowboy's wrist, the horse +reared sharply back, and Endicott turned away with a sickening feeling of +weakness. The voice of the Texan roused him: "Hand me the bottle and the +can quick!" As he sprang to obey, Endicott saw that the hand the cowboy +held tightly against the horse's throat was red. The weakness vanished +and he cursed himself for a fool. What was a horse--a thousand horses to +the lives of humans--her life? The bottle was filled almost instantly +and he handed Tex the can. + +"Drink it--all you can hold of it. It won't taste good, but it's wet." +He was gulping great swallows from the tin, as with the other hand he +tried to hold back the flow. Endicott placed the bottle to his lips and +was surprised to find that he emptied it almost at a draught. Again and +again the Texan filled the bottle and the can as both in a frenzy of +desire gulped the thick liquid. When, at length they were satiated, the +blood still flowed. The receptacles were filled, set aside, and covered +with a strip of cloth. For a moment longer the horse stood with the +blood spurting from his throat, then with a heavy sigh he toppled +sidewise and crashed heavily to the ground. The Texan fixed the cork in +the bottle, plugged the can as best he could, and taking them, together +with the remaining can of tomatoes, tied them into the slicker behind the +cantle of his saddle. He swung the bag containing the few remaining +biscuits to the horn. + +"Give her the tomatoes when you have to. _You_ can use the other +can--tell her that's tomatoes, too. She'll never tumble that it's blood." + +Endicott stared at the other: "What do you mean?" + +"I mean that you had better wake her up, now, an' get goin'. I'll wait +here for Bat. He's probably found the spring by this time, an' he'll be +moseyin' along directly with water an' the pack-horse." + +Endicott took a step toward him: "It won't work, Tex," he said, with a +smile. "You don't expect me to believe that if you really thought Bat +would return with water, you would be sending us away from here into this +dust-storm. No. I'm the one that waits for Bat. You go ahead and take +her through, and then you can come back for me." + +The Texan shook his head: "I got you into this deal, an'----" + +"You did it to protect me!" flared Endicott. "I'm the cause for all +this, and I'll stand the gaff!" + +The Texan smiled, and Endicott noticed that it was the same cynical smile +with which the man had regarded him in the dance hall, and again as they +had faced each other under the cottonwoods of Buffalo Coulee. "Since +when you be'n runnin' this outfit?" + +"It don't make any difference since when! The fact is, I'm running it, +now--that is, to the extent that I'll be damned if you're going to stay +behind and rot in this God-forsaken inferno, while I ride to safety on +your horse." + +The smile died from the cowboy's face: "It ain't that, Win. I guess you +don't savvy, but I do. She's yours, man. Take her an' go! There was a +while that I thought--but, hell!" + +"I'm not so sure of that," Endicott replied. "Only yesterday, or the day +before, she told me she could not choose--yet." + +"She'll choose," answered Tex, "an' she won't choose--me. She ain't +makin' no mistake, neither. By God, I know a man when I see one!" + +Endicott stepped forward and shook his fist in the cowboy's face: "It's +the only chance. You can do it--I can't. For God's sake, man, be +sensible! Either of us would do it--for her. It is only a question of +success, and all that it means; and failure--and all that that means. +You know the country--I don't. You are experienced in fighting this +damned desert--I'm not. Any one of a dozen things might mean the +difference between life and death. You would take advantage of them--I +couldn't." + +"You're a lawyer, Win--an' a damn good one. I wondered what your trade +was. If I ever run foul of the law, I'll sure send for you, _pronto_. +If I was a jury you'd have me plumb convinced--but, I ain't a jury. The +way I look at it, the case stands about like this: We can't stay here, +and there can't only two of us go. I can hold out here longer than you +could, an' you can go just as far with the horses as I could. Just give +them their head an' let them drift--that's all I could do. If the storm +lets up you'll see the Split Rock water-hole--you can't miss it if you're +in sight of it, there's a long black ridge with a big busted rock on the +end of it, an' just off the end is a round, high mound--the soda hill, +they call it, and the water-hole is between. If you pass the water-hole, +you'll strike the Miszoo. You can tell that from a long ways off, too, +by the fringe of green that lines the banks. And, as for the rest of +it--I mean, if the storm don't let up, or the horses go down, I couldn't +do any more than you could--it's cashin' in time then anyhow, an' the +long, long sleep, no matter who's runnin' the outfit. An' if it comes to +that, it's better for her to pass her last hours with one of her own kind +than with--me." + +Endicott thrust out his hand: "I think any one could be proud to spend +their last hours with one of your kind," he said huskily. "I believe we +will all win through--but, if worse comes to worst---- Good Bye." + +"So Long, Win," said the cowboy, grasping the hand. "Wake her up an' +pull out quick. I'll onhobble the horses." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +"WIN" + +Alice opened her eyes to see Endicott bending over her. "It is time to +pull out," said the man tersely. + +The girl threw off the blanket and stared into the whirl of opaque +dust. "The storm is still raging," she murmured. "Oh, Winthrop, do +you know that I dreamed it was all over--that we were riding between +high, cool mountains beside a flashing stream. And trout were leaping +in the rapids, and I got off and drank and drank of the clear, cold +water, and, why, do you know, I feel actually refreshed! The horrible +burning thirst has gone. That proves the control mind has over +matter--if we could just concentrate and think hard enough, I don't +believe we would ever need to be thirsty, or hungry, or tired, or cold, +do you?" + +The man smiled grimly, and shook his head: "No. If we could think hard +_enough_ to accomplish a thing, why, manifestly that thing would be +accomplished. Great word--enough--the trouble is, when you use it, you +never say anything." + +Alice laughed: "You're making fun of me. I don't care, you know what I +mean, anyway. Why, what's the matter with that horse?" + +"He died--got weaker and weaker, and at last he just rolled over dead. +And that is why we have to hurry and make a try for the water-hole, +before the others play out." + +Endicott noticed that the Texan was nowhere in sight. He pressed his +lips firmly: "It's better that way, I guess," he thought. + +"But, that's your horse! And where are the others--Tex, and Bat, and +the pack-horse?" + +"They pulled out to hunt for the water-hole--each in a different +direction. You and I are to keep together and drift with the wind as +we have been doing." + +"And they gave us the best of it," she breathed. Endicott winced, and +the girl noticed. She laid her hand gently upon his arm. "No, +Winthrop, I didn't mean that. There was a time, perhaps, when I might +have thought--but, that was before I knew you. I have learned a lot in +the past few days, Winthrop--enough to know that no matter what +happens, you have played a man's part--with the rest of them. Come, +I'm ready." + +Endicott tied the scarf about her face and assisted her to mount, then, +throwing her bridle reins over the horn of his saddle as the Texan had +done, he headed down the coulee. For three hours the horses drifted +with the storm, following along coulees, crossing low ridges, and long +level stretches where the sweep of the wind seemed at times as though +it would tear them from the saddles. Endicott's horse stumbled +frequently, and each time the recovery seemed more and more of an +effort. Then suddenly the wind died--ceased to blow as abruptly as it +had started. The man could scarcely believe his senses as he listened +in vain for the roar of it--the steady, sullen roar, that had rung in +his ears, it seemed, since the beginning of time. Thick dust filled +the air but when he turned his face toward the west no sand particles +stung his skin. Through a rift he caught sight of a low butte--a butte +that was not nearby. Alice tore the scarf from her face. "It has +stopped!" she cried, excitedly. "The storm is over!" + +"Thank God!" breathed Endicott, "the dust is beginning to settle." He +dismounted and swung the girl to the ground. "We may as well wait here +as anywhere until the air clears sufficiently for us to get our +bearings. We certainly must have passed the water-hole, and we would +only be going farther and farther away if we pushed on." + +The dust settled rapidly. Splashes of sunshine showed here and there +upon the basin and ridge, and it grew lighter. The atmosphere took on +the appearance of a thin grey fog that momentarily grew thinner. +Endicott walked to the top of a low mound and gazed eagerly about him. +Distant objects were beginning to appear--bare rock-ridges, and +low-lying hills, and deep coulees. In vain the man's eyes followed the +ridges for one that terminated in a huge broken rock, with its nearby +soda hill. No such ridge appeared, and no high, round hill. Suddenly +his gaze became rivetted upon the southern horizon. What was that +stretching away, long, and dark, and winding? Surely--surely it +was--trees! Again and again he tried to focus his gaze upon that long +dark line, but always his lids drew over his stinging eyeballs, and +with a half-sobbed curse, he dashed the water from his eyes. At last +he saw it--the green of distant timber. "The Missouri--five +miles--maybe more. Oh God, if the horses hold out!" Running, +stumbling, he made his way to the girl's side. "It's the river!" he +cried. "The Missouri!" + +"Look at the horses!" she exclaimed. "They see it, too!" The animals +stood with ears cocked forward, and dirt-caked nostrils distended, +gazing into the south. Endicott sprang to his slicker, and producing +the flask, saturated his handkerchief with the thick red liquid. He +tried to sponge out the mouths and noses of the horses but they drew +back, trembling and snorting in terror. + +"Why, it's blood!" cried the girl, her eyes dilated with horror. "From +the horse that died," explained Endicott, as he tossed the rag to the +ground. + +"But, the water--surely there was water in the flask last night!" +Then, of a sudden, she understood. "You--you fed it to me in my +sleep," she faltered. "You were afraid I would refuse, and that was my +dream!" + +"Mind over matter," reminded Endicott, with a distortion of his +bleeding lips that passed for a grin. Again he fumbled in his slicker +and withdrew the untouched can of tomatoes. He cut its cover as he had +seen Tex do and extended it to the girl. "Drink some of this, and if +the horses hold out we will reach the river in a couple of hours." + +"I believe it's growing a little cooler since that awful wind went +down," she said, as she passed the can back to Endicott. "Let's push +on, the horses seem to know there is water ahead. Oh, I hope they can +make it!" + +"We can go on a-foot if they can't," reassured the man. "It is not +far." + +The horses pushed on with renewed life. They stumbled weakly, but the +hopeless, lack-lustre look was gone from their eyes and at frequent +intervals they stretched their quivering nostrils toward the long green +line in the distance. So slow was their laboured pace that at the end +of a half-hour Endicott dismounted and walked, hobbling clumsily over +the hot rocks and through ankle-deep drifts of dust in his high-heeled +boots. A buzzard rose from the coulee ahead with silent flapping of +wings, to be joined a moment later by two more of his evil ilk, and the +three wheeled in wide circles above the spot from which they had been +frightened. A bend in the coulee revealed a stagnant poison spring. A +dead horse lay beside it with his head buried to the ears in the slimy +water. Alice glanced at the broken chain of the hobbles that still +encircled the horse's feet. + +"It's the pack-horse!" she cried. "They have only one horse between +them!" + +"Yes, he got away in the night." Endicott nodded. "Bat is hunting +water, and Tex is waiting." He carried water in his hat and dashed it +over the heads of the horses, and sponged out their mouths and noses as +Tex and Bat had done. The drooping animals revived wonderfully under +the treatment and, with the long green line of scrub timber now plainly +in sight, evinced an eagerness for the trail that, since the departure +from Antelope Butte, had been entirely wanting. As the man assisted +the girl to mount, he saw that she was crying. + +"They'll come out, all right," he assured her. "As soon as we hit the +river and I can get a fresh horse, I'm going back." + +"Going back!" + +"Going back, of course--with water. You do not expect me to leave +them?" + +"No, I don't expect you to leave them! Oh, Winthrop, I--" her voice +choked up and the sentence was never finished. + +"Buck up, little girl, an hour will put us at the river," he swung into +the saddle and headed southward, glad of a respite from the galling, +scalding torture of walking in high-heeled boots. + + +Had Endicott combed Montana throughout its length and breadth he could +have found no more evil, disreputable character than Long Bill Kearney. +Despised by honest citizens and the renegades of the bad lands, alike, +he nevertheless served these latter by furnishing them whiskey and +supplies at exorbitant prices. Also, he bootlegged systematically to +the Port Belknap Indians, which fact, while a matter of common +knowledge, the Government had never been able to prove. So Long Bill, +making a living ostensibly by maintaining a flat-boat ferry and a few +head of mangy cattle, continued to ply his despicable trade. Even +passing cowboys avoided him and Long Bill was left pretty much to his +own evil devices. + +It was the cabin of this scum of the outland that Endicott and Alice +approached after pushing up the river for a mile or more from the point +where they had reached it by means of a deep coulee that wound +tortuously through the breaks. Long Bill stood in his doorway and eyed +the pair sullenly as they drew rein and climbed stiffly from the +saddles. Alice glanced with disgust into the sallow face with its +unkempt, straggling beard, and involuntarily recoiled as her eyes met +the leer with which he regarded her as Endicott addressed him: + +"We've been fighting the dust storm for two days, and we've got to have +grub and some real water, quick." + +The man regarded him with slow insolence: "The hell ye hev," he +drawled; "Timber City's only seven mile, ef ye was acrost the river. I +hain't runnin' no hotel, an' grub-liners hain't welcome." + +"God, man! You don't mean----" + +"I mean, ef ye got five dollars on ye I'll ferry ye acrost to where ye +c'n ride to Timber City ef them old skates'll carry ye there, an' ef ye +hain't got the five, ye c'n swim acrost, or shove on up the river, or +go back where ye come from." + +Endicott took one swift step forward, his right fist shot into the +man's stomach, and as he doubled forward with a grunt of pain, +Endicott's left crashed against the point of his jaw with a force that +sent him spinning like a top as he crumpled to the hard-trodden earth +of the door-yard. + +"Good!" cried Alice. "It was beautifully done. He didn't even have a +chance to shoot," she pointed to the two 45's that hung, one at either +hip. + +"I guess we'll just relieve him of those," said Endicott, and, jerking +the revolvers from their holsters, walked to his saddle and uncoiled +the rope. Alice lent eager assistance, and a few moments later the +inhospitable one lay trussed hand and foot. "Now, we'll go in and find +something to eat," said Endicott, as he made fast the final hitch. + +The cabin was well stocked with provisions and, to the surprise of the +two, was reasonably clean. While Alice busied herself in the cabin, +Endicott unsaddled the horses and turned them into a small field where +the vegetation grew rank and high and green beside a series of +irrigation ditches. Passing the horse corral he saw that three or four +saddle-horses dozed in the shade of its pole fence, and continued on to +the river bank where he inspected minutely the ferry. + +"I guess we can manage to cross the river," he told Alice, when he +returned to the cabin; "I will breathe easier when I see you safe in +Timber City, wherever that is. I am coming back after Tex. But first +I must see you safe." + +The girl crossed to his side and as the man glanced into her face he +saw that her eyes were shining with a new light--a light he had dreamed +could shine from those eyes, but never dared hope to see. "No, Win," +she answered softly, and despite the mighty pounding of his heart the +man realized it was the first time she had used that name. "You are +not going back alone. I am going too." Endicott made a gesture of +protest but she gave no heed. "From now on my place is with you. Oh, +Win, can't you see! I--I guess I have always loved you--only I didn't +know It. I wanted romance--wanted a red-blood man--a man who could do +things, and----" + +"Oh, if I could come to you clean-handed!" he interrupted, +passionately; "if I could offer you a hand unstained by the blood of a +fellow creature!" + +She laid a hand gently upon his shoulder and looked straight into his +eyes: "Don't, Win," she said; "don't always hark back to _that_. Let +us forget." + +"I wish to God I could forget!" he answered, bitterly. "I know the act +was justified. I believe it was unavoidable. But--it is my New +England conscience, I suppose." + +Alice smiled: "Don't let your conscience bother you, because it is a +New England conscience. They call you 'the pilgrim' out here. It is +the name they called your early Massachusetts forebears--and if history +is to be credited, they never allowed their consciences to stand in the +way of taking human life." + +"But, they thought they were right." + +"And you _know_ you were right!" + +"I know--I know! It isn't the ethics--only the fact." + +"Don't brood over it. Don't think of it, dear. Or, if you must, think +of it only as a grim duty performed--a duty that proved, as nothing +else could have proved, that you are every inch a man." + +Endicott drew her close against his pounding heart. "It proved that +the waters of the Erie Canal, if given the chance, can dash as madly +unrestrained as can the waters of the Grand Canyon." + +She pressed her fingers to his lips: "Don't make fun of me. I was a +fool." + +"I'm not making fun--I didn't know it myself, until--" the sentence was +drowned in a series of yells and curses and vile epithets that brought +both to the door to stare down at the trussed-up one who writhed on the +ground in a very paroxysm of rage. + +"Conscience hurting you, or is it your jaw?" asked Endicott, as he +grinned into the rage-distorted features. + +"Git them hosses outa that alfalfy! You ---- ---- ---- ---- ----! +I'll hev th' law on ye! I'll shoot ye! I'll drag yer guts out!" So +great was the man's fury that a thin white foam flecked his +hate-distorted lips, and his voice rose to a high-pitched whine. +Endicott glanced toward the two horses that stood, belly-deep, in the +lush vegetation. + +"They like it," he said, calmly. "It's the first feed they have had in +two days." The man's little pig eyes glared red, and his voice choked +in an inarticulate snarl. + +Alice turned away in disgust. "Let him alone," she said, "and we will +have dinner. I'm simply famished. Nothing ever looked so good to me +in the world as that ham and potatoes and corn and peas." During the +course of the meal, Endicott tried to dissuade the girl from her +purpose of accompanying him on his search for Tex and the half-breed. +But she would have it no other way, and finally, perforce, he consented. + +Leaving her to pack up some food, Endicott filled the water-bag that +hung on the wall and, proceeding to the corral, saddled three of the +horses. Through the open window of the cabin he could see the girl +busily engaged in transferring provisions to a sack. He watched her as +she passed and repassed the window intent upon her task. Never had she +seemed so lovable, so unutterably desirable--and she loved him! With +her own lips she had told him of her love, and with her own lips had +placed the seal of love upon his own. Happiness, like no happiness he +had ever known should be his. And yet--hovering over him like a +pall--black, ominous, depressing--was the thing that momentarily +threatened to descend and engulf him, to destroy this new-found +happiness, haunt him with its diabolical presence, and crush his +life--and hers. + +With an effort he roused himself--squared himself there in the corral +for the final battle with himself. "It is now or never," he gritted +through clenched teeth. "Now, and alone. She won't face the situation +squarely. It is woman's way, calmy to ignore the issue, to push it +aside as the ill of a future day." + +She had said that he was right, and ethically, he knew that he was +right--but the fact of the deed remained. His hand had sped a soul to +its God. + +Why? + +To save the woman he loved. No jury on earth would hold him guilty. +He would surrender himself and stand trial. Then came the memory of +what Tex had told him of the machinations of local politics. He had no +wish to contribute his life as campaign material for a county election. +The other course was to run--to remain, as he now was, a fugitive, if +not from justice, at least from the hand of the law. This course would +mean that both must live always within the menace of the +shadow--unless, to save her from this life of haunting fear, he +renounced her. + +His eyes sought the forbidding sweep of the bad lands, strayed to the +sluggish waters of the Missouri, and beyond, where the black buttes of +the Judith Range reared their massive shapes in the distance. Suddenly +a mighty urge welled up within him. He would not renounce her! She +was his! This was life--the life that, to him, had been as a sealed +book--the fighting life of the boundless open places. It was the +coward's part to run. He had played a man's part, and he would +continue to play a man's part to the end. He would fight. Would +identify himself with this West--become part of it. Never would he +return to the life of the city, which would be to a life of fear. The +world should know that he was right. If local politics sought to crush +him--to use him as a puppet for their puny machinations, he would smash +their crude machine and rebuild the politics of this new land upon +principles as clean and rugged as the land itself. It should be his +work! + +With the light of a new determination in his eyes, he caught up the +bridle-reins of the horses and pushed open the gate of the corral. As +he led the animals out he was once more greeted with a volley of oaths +and curses: "Put them back! Ye hoss-thief! I'll have ye hung! Them's +mine, I tell ye!" + +"You'll get them back," assured Endicott. "I am only borrowing them to +go and hunt for a couple of friends of mine back there in the bad +lands." + +"Back in the bad lands! What do ye know about the bad lands? Ye'll +git lost, an' then what'll happen to me? I'll die like a coyote in a +trap! I'll starve here where no one comes along fer it's sometimes a +week--mebbe two!" + +"It will be a long time between meals if anything should happen to us, +but it will do you good to lie here and think it over. We'll be back +sometime." Endicott made the sack of provisions fast to the saddle of +the lead-horse, and assisted Alice to mount. + +"I'll kill ye fer this!" wailed the man; "I'll--I'll--" but the two +rode away with the futile threats ringing in their ears. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE END OF THE TRAIL + +"How are we going to find them?" asked the girl, as the two drew their +mounts to a stand on the top of a low ridge and gazed out over the sea +of similar ridges that rolled and spread before them as far as the eye +could reach in three directions--bare coulees, and barer ridges, with +here and there a low bare hill, all black and red and grey, with +studdings of mica flashing in the rays of the afternoon sun. + +"We'll find them. We've got to. I have just been thinking: Living on +the edge of the bad lands the way this man does he must occasionally +cross them. Tex said that the Split Rock water-hole was the only one +between the river and the mountains. We'll start the horses out and +give them their heads, and the chances are they will take us to the +water-hole. In all probability Tex and Bat will be there. If they are +not we will have to find them." + +"Of course!" assented the girl. "Oh, Win, I'm so proud of you! I +couldn't be any prouder if you were a--a real cowboy!" Endicott +laughed heartily, and urged his horse forward. The animals crossed +several low ridges and struck into a coulee which they followed +unhesitatingly. When it petered out in a wide basin, they struck into +another coulee, and continued their course, covering the miles at a +long, swinging trot. At sundown Endicott reined in sharply and pointed +to the northward. "It's the ridge of the Split Rock!" he cried; "and +look, there is the soda hill!" There it was only a mile or two +away--the long black ridge with the huge rock fragment at its end, and +almost touching it, the high round hill that the Texan had described. + +The horses pressed eagerly forward, seeming to know that rest and water +were soon to be theirs. "I wonder if they are there," breathed the +girl, "and I wonder if they are--all right." + +A few minutes later the horses swung around the base of the hill and, +with an exclamation of relief, Endicott saw two figures seated beside +the detached fragment of rock that lay near the end of the ridge. + +The Texan arose slowly and advanced toward them, smiling: "Good +evenin'," he greeted, casually, as he eyed the pair with evident +approval. "You sure come a-runnin'. We didn't expect you 'til along +about noon tomorrow. And we didn't expect you at all," he said to the +girl. "We figured you'd shove on to Timber City, an' then Win would +get a guide an' come back in the mornin'." + +Endicott laughed: "When I learned there was such a place as Timber +City, I intended to leave her there and return alone--only I was not +going to wait 'til morning to do it. But she wouldn't hear of it, so +we compromised--and she came with me." + +Tex smiled: "It's a great thing to learn how to compromise." He stared +for a few moments toward the west, where the setting sun left the sky +ablaze with fiery light. Then, still smiling, he advanced toward them +with both hands extended: "I wish you luck," he said, softly. "I cared +for you a mighty lot, Miss Alice, but I'm a good loser. I reckon, +maybe it's better things worked out the way they did." Endicott +pressed the outstretched hand with a mighty grip and turned swiftly +away to fumble at his latigo strap. And there were tears in the girl's +eyes as her fingers lingered for a moment in the Texan's grasp: "Oh, +I--I'm sorry. I----" + +"You don't need to be," the man whispered. "You chose the best of the +two." He indicated Endicott with a slight jerk of the head. "You've +got a real man there--an' they're oncommon hard to find. An' now, if +you've got some grub along suppose we tie into it. I'm hungry enough +to gnaw horn!" + +As Alice proceeded to set out the food, the Texan's eyes for the first +time strayed to the horses. "How much did Long Bill Kearney soak you +for the loan of his saddle-horses?" + +"Nothing," answered Endicott, "and he supplied us with the grub, too." + +"He, what?" + +"Fact," smiled the other, "he demurred a little, but----" + +"Long Bill's the hardest character in Choteau County." + +Endicott glanced at his swollen knuckles: "He is hard, all right." + +Tex eyed him in amazement, "Win, you didn't--punch his head for him!" + +"I did--and his stomach, too. We were nearly starved, and he refused +us food. Told us to go back where we came from. So I reached for him +and he dozed off." + +"But where was his guns?" + +"I took them away from him before I tied him up." + +"Where is he now?" + +"Tied up. He called me a lot of names because I turned the horses into +his alfalfa. They were hungry and they enjoyed it, but Bill nearly +blew up. Then we got dinner and took the horses and came away." + +"You're the luckiest man out of hell! You doggoned pilgrim, you!" Tex +roared with laughter: "Why accordin' to dope, he'd ought to just et you +up." + +"He whined like a puppy, when we left him, for fear we would get lost +and he would starve to death. He is yellow." + +"His kind always is--way down in their guts. Only no one ever made him +show it before." + +"How far did we miss the water-hole last night?" asked Endicott, as he +and Tex sat talking after the others had sought their blankets. + +"About two miles. The wind drifted us to the east. Bat didn't get far +'til his horse went down, so he bled him like we did, and holed up 'til +the storm quit. Then, after things cleared up, we got here about the +same time. The water ain't much--but it sure did taste good." For a +long time the two lay close together looking up at the million winking +stars. Tex tossed the butt of a cigarette into the grey dust. "She's +a great girl, Win. Game plumb to her boot heels." + +"She is, that. I've loved her for a long time--since way back in my +college days--but she wouldn't have me." + +"You hadn't earnt her. Life's like that--it's ups an' downs. But, in +the long run, a man gets about what's comin' to him. It's like +poker--in the long run the best player is bound to win. There's times +when luck is against him, maybe for months at a stretch. He'll lose +every time he plays, but if he stays with it, an' keeps on playin' the +best he knows how, an' don't go tryin' to force his luck by drawin' +four cards, an' fillin' three-card flushes, why, some day luck will +change an' he wins back all he's lost an' a lot more with it, because +there's always someone in the game that's throwin' their money away +drawin' to a Judson." + +"What is a Judson?" + +"Bill Judson was a major, an' next to playin' poker, he liked other +things. Every time he'd get three cards of a suit in a row, he'd draw +to 'em, hopin' for a straight flush. That hope cost him, I reckon, +hundreds of dollars, an' at last he filled one--but, hell! Everyone +laid down, an' he gathered the ante." The Texan rolled another +cigarette. "An' that's the way it is with me--I tried to force my +luck. I might as well own up to it right here an' get it over with. +You've be'n square, straight through, an' I haven't. I was stringin' +you with all that bunk about politics, an' you bein' sure to get hung +for shootin' Purdy. Fact is, the grand jury would have turned you +loose as soon as your case come up. But, from the first minute I laid +eyes on that girl, I wanted her. I'm bad enough, but not like Purdy. +I figured if she'd go half-way, I'd go the other half. So I planned +the raid on the wool-warehouse, an' the fake lynchin', purpose to get +her out of town. I didn't care a damn about you--you was just an +excuse to get her away. I figured on losing you after we hit the +mountains. The first jolt I got was in the warehouse, when we didn't +have to drag you out. Then I got another hell of a one in the coulee +under the cottonwoods. Then they got to comin' so thick I lost track +of 'em. An' the first thing I knew I would have killed any man that +would look crossways at _her_. It come over me all of a sudden that I +loved her. I tried to get out of it, but I was hooked. I watched +close, an' I saw that she liked me--maybe not altogether for what she +thought I'd done for you. But you was in the road. I knew she liked +you, too, though she wouldn't show it. 'Everything's fair in love or +war,' I kept sayin' over an' over to myself when I'd lay thinkin' it +over of nights. But, I knew it was a damned lie when I was sayin' it. +If you'd be'n milk-gutted, an' louse-hearted, like pilgrims are +supposed to be, there'd be'n a different story to tell, because you +wouldn't have be'n fit for her. But I liked you most as hard as I +loved her. 'From now on it's a square game,' I says, so I made Old Man +Johnson cough up that outfit of raiment, an' made you shave, so she +wouldn't have to take you lookin' like a sheep-herdin' greaser, if she +was a-goin' to take you instead of me. After that I come right out an' +told her just where I stood, an' from then on I've played the game +square. The women ain't divided up right in this world. There ought +to have be'n two of her, but they ain't another in the whole world, I +reckon, like her; so one of us had to lose. An', now, seein' how I've +lied you into all this misery, you ought to just naturally up an' knock +hell out of me. We'll still keep the game fair an' square. I'll throw +away my gun an' you can sail in as quick as you get your sleeves rolled +up. But, I doubt if you can get away with it, at that." + +Endicott laughed happily, and in the darkness his hand stole across and +gripped the hand of the Texan in a mighty grip: "I wish to God there +was some way I could thank you," he said. "Had it not been for you, I +never could have won her. Why, man, I never got acquainted with myself +until the past three days!" + +"There ain't any posses out," grinned Tex. "The fellow I met in the +coulee there by Antelope Butte told me. They think you were lynched. +He told me somethin' else, too--but that'll keep." + +As they were saddling up, the following morning, the Texan grinned: +"I'll bet old Long Bill Kearney's in a pleasin' frame of mind." + +"He's had time to meditate a little on his sins," answered Alice. + +"No--not Long Bill ain't. If he started in meditatin' on them, he'd +starve to death before he'd got meditated much past sixteen--an' he's +fifty, if he's a day." + +"There are four of us and only three horses," exclaimed Endicott, as he +tightened his cinch. + +"That's all right. The horses are fresh. I'm light built, an' we'll +change off makin' 'em carry double. It ain't so far." + +The morning sun was high when the horses turned into the coulee that +led to Long Bill's ranch. Bat, who had scouted ahead to make sure that +he had not succeeded in slipping his bonds and had plotted mischief, +sat grinning beside the corral fence as he listened, unobserved, to the +whimpering and wailing of the man who lay bound beside the cabin door. + +"What's the matter, Willie?" smiled Tex, as he slipped from his seat +behind Endicott's saddle. "Didn't your breakfast set right?" + +The man rolled to face them at the sound of the voice, and such a +stream of obscene blasphemy poured from his lips as to cause even the +Texan to wince. Without a word the cowboy reached for a bar of soap +that lay awash in the filthy water of a basin upon a bench beside the +door, and jammed it down the man's throat. The sounds changed to a +sputtering, choking gurgle. "Maybe that'll learn you not to talk vile +when there's ladies around." + +"Water!" the man managed to gasp. + +"Will you quit your damn swearin'?" + +Long Bill nodded, and Tex held a dipper to his lips. + +"Go catch up the horses, Bat, an' we'll be gettin' out of here. They's +some reptiles so mean that even their breath is poison." + +As Bat started for the alfalfa field the man fairly writhed with fury: +"I'll hev the law on ye, ye--" he stopped abruptly as Tex reached for +the soap. + +"You won't have the law on no one, you lizard! You don't dare to get +within hollerin' distance of the law." + +"I will pay you a reasonable amount for any damage to your field, and +for the food, and the use of your horses," offered Endicott, reaching +for his pocket. + +"Keep your money, Win," grinned the Texan. "Let me pay for this. This +coyote owes me twenty dollars he borrowed from me when I first hit the +country an' didn't know him. He's always be'n anxious to pay it, ain't +you, Bill? Well, it's paid now, an' you don't need to go worryin' your +heart out about that debt no longer." + +Again the man opened his lips, but closed them hurriedly as Tex reached +for the soap. + +"I'll have to borrow your horse an' saddle for my friend, here," said +the Texan, "an' Bat, he'll have to borrow one, too. We'll leave 'em in +Timber City." + +"_Non_!" cried the half-breed, who had paused in the process of +changing Alice's saddle to her own horse. "Me--I ain' gon' for bor' no +hoss. Am tak' dis hoss an' giv' heem back to Judge Carson. Him b'long +over on Sage Creek." + +"Whad'ye mean, ye red scum!" screamed the man, his face growing purple. +"That Circle 12 brand is----" + +"Ha! Circle 12! De mos' dat Circle 12 she hair-bran'." He stepped +into the cabin and reappeared a moment later with some coal-oil in a +cup. This he poured into his hand and rubbed over the brand on the +horse's shoulder. And when he had pressed the hair flat, the Circle 12 +resolved itself into a V 2. + +The Texan laughed: "I suppose I ought to take you into Timber City, but +I won't. I imagine, though, when the Judge hears about this, you'd +better be hittin' the high spots. He's right ugly with horse thieves." + +"Hey, hain't ye goin' to ontie me?" squealed the man, as the four +started down the bank with the horses. + +"You don't suppose I'd go off an' leave a good rope where you could get +your claws on it, do you? Wait 'til we get these horses onto the +flat-boat, and all the guns around here collected so you can't peck at +us from the brush, an' I'll be back." + +"You gon' on to Timbaire City," said Bat, "an' I'm com' long bye-m-bye. +A'm tak' dis hoss an' ride back an' git ma saddle an' bridle." He +advanced and removed his hat; "_Adieu, ma'mselle_, mebbe-so I ain' git +dere 'til you gon'. Ol' Bat, he lak' you fine. You need de help, +som'tam', you mak' de write to ol' Bat an', ba Goss, A'm com' lak' +hell--you bet you dam' life!" Tears blinded the girl's eyes as she +held out her hand, and as a cavalier of old France, the half-breed bent +and brushed it with his lips. He shook the hand of Endicott: "Som'tam' +mebbe-so you com' back, we tak' de hont. Me--A'm know where de elk an' +de bear liv' plenty." Endicott detected a twinkle in his eye as he +turned to ascend the bank: "You mak' Tex ke'p de strong lookout for de +posse. A'm no lak' I seen you git hang." + +"Beat it! You old reprobate!" called the Texan as he followed him up +the slope. + +"How'm I goin' to git my boat back?" whined Long Bill, as the Texan +coiled his rope. + +"Swim acrost. Or, maybe you'd better go 'round--it's some little +further that way, but it's safer if you can't swim. I'll leave your +guns in the boat. So long, an' be sure to remember not to furget +sometime an' pay me back that twenty." + +The ride to Timber City was made almost in silence. Only once did the +Texan speak. It was when they passed a band of sheep grazing beside +the road: "They're minin' the country," he said, thoughtfully. "The +time ain't far off when we'll have to turn nester--or move on." + +"Where?" asked Alice. + +The cowboy shrugged, and the girl detected a note of unconscious +sadness in his tone: "I don't know. I reckon there ain't any place for +me. The whole country's about wired in." + +Timber City, since abandoned to the bats and the coyotes, but then in +her glory, consisted of two stores, five saloons, a half-dozen less +reputable places of entertainment, a steepleless board church, a +schoolhouse, also of boards, a hotel, a post office, a feed stable, +fifty or more board shacks of miners, and a few flimsy buildings at the +mouths of shafts. It was nearly noon when the three drew up before the +hotel. + +"Will you dine with us in an hour?" asked Endicott. + +The Texan nodded. "Thanks," he said, formally, "I'll be here." And as +the two disappeared through the door, he gathered up the reins, crossed +to the feed barn where he turned the animals over to the proprietor, +and passing on to the rear, proceeded to take a bath in the watering +trough. + +Punctually on the minute he entered the hotel. The meal was a solemn +affair, almost as silent as the ride from the river. Several attempts +at conversation fell flat, and the effort was abandoned. At no time, +however, did the Texan appear embarrassed, and Alice noted that he +handled his knife and fork with the ease of early training. + +At the conclusion he arose, abruptly: "I thank you. Will you excuse +me, now?" + +Alice nodded, and both watched as he crossed the room, his spurs +trailing noisily upon the wooden floor. + +"Poor devil," said Endicott, "this has hit him pretty hard." + +The girl swallowed the rising lump in her throat: "Oh, why can't he +meet some nice girl, and----" + +"Women--his kind--are mighty scarce out here, I imagine." + +The girl placed her elbows upon the table, rested her chin upon her +knuckles, and glanced eagerly into Endicott's face: + +"Win, you've just got to buy a ranch," she announced, the words fairly +tumbling over each other in her excitement. "Then we can come out here +part of the time and live, and we can invite a lot of girls out for the +summer--I just know oodles of nice girls--and Tex can manage the ranch, +and----" + +"Match-making already!" laughed Endicott. "Why buy a ranch? Why not +move into Wolf River, or Timber City, and start a regular matrimonial +agency--satisfaction guaranteed, or your money back. It would be more +prac----" + +"Winthrop Adams Endicott!" + +"Oh, I forgot! I'm not practical. I'm romantic, and red-blooded, +and--" they had the little dining-room to themselves; he rose swiftly +from his chair and, crossing to her side, stooped and kissed her, not +once, but twice, and thrice,--"I'm glad of it! And that reminds me, I +have a couple of errands to attend to, so you will have to manage to +worry along without me for fifteen minutes or so." + +She laughed up into his face: "How can I ever stand it? I've worried +along without you all my life. I guess I'll survive." + +"You won't have to much longer," he smiled, and hastened from the room. +A half-hour later he returned to find her waiting in the hotel +"parlour." She saw that his eyes were shining as he crossed eagerly, +seated himself upon the haircloth sofa beside her, and whispered in her +ear. + +"Winthrop! Indeed we won't do anything of the kind! Why +it's--it's----" + +"It's impractical, and it's romantic," he finished for her. "Also, +it's unconventional. Now, refuse if you dare! The stage leaves for +Lewiston and the railroad at five. He seems to be a regular chap--the +parson. Both he and his wife insisted that the event take place in +their house. Said it would be much pleasanter than the hotel--and I +heartily agreed with them. We figured that half-past four would give +us just about time." + +"Well, of all things!" blushed the girl. "You two arranged the whole +affair, and of course, as I'm only the bride, it wasn't necessary to +consult me at all!" + +"Exactly," smiled Endicott; "I'm red-blooded, you know, and +romantic--and when I go in for little things like unconventionality, +and romance, I go the limit. And you don't dare refuse!" + +She looked up into his eyes, shining with boyish enthusiasm: "I don't +dare," she whispered. "I don't want to dare. Oh, Win, I--I'm just +crazy about it!" + +A few moments later she drew away from him and smoothed her hair. + +"You must go right this minute and find Tex. And, oh, I hope Bat will +be here in time! I just love old Bat!" She ceased speaking and looked +questioningly into his eyes which had suddenly become grave. + +"I have been looking for Tex, and I couldn't find him anywhere. Then I +went to the stable across the street. His horse is gone." + +For some moments both were silent. "He never even said good-bye," +faltered the girl, and in her voice was a note of real hurt. + +"No," answered Endicott, softly, "he should have said good-bye." + +Alice rose and put on her hat: "Come on, let's get out of this hateful +stuffy little room. Let's walk and enjoy this wonderful air while we +can. And besides, we must find some flowers--wild flowers they must be +for our wedding, mustn't they, dear? Wild flowers, right from God's +own gardens--wild, and free, and uncultivated--untouched by human +hands. I saw some lovely ones, blue and white, and some wild-cherry +blossoms, too, down beside that little creek that crosses the trail +almost at the edge of the town." Together they walked to the creek +that burbled over its rocky bed in the shadow of the bull-pine forest +from which Timber City derived its name. Deeper and deeper into the +pines they went, stopping here and there to gather the tiny white and +blue blossoms, or to break the bloom-laden twigs from the low cherry +bushes. As they rounded a huge upstanding rock, both paused and +involuntarily drew back. There, in the centre of a tiny glade that +gave a wide view of the vast sweep of the plains, with their background +of distant mountains, stood the Texan, one arm thrown across the neck +of his horse, and his cheek resting close against the animal's glossy +neck. For a moment they watched as he stood with his eyes fixed on the +far horizon. + +"Go back a little way," whispered Endicott. "I want to speak with +him." The girl obeyed, and he stepped boldly into the open. + +"Tex!" + +The man whirled. "What you doin' here?" his face flushed red, then, +with an effort, he smiled, as his eyes rested upon the blossoms. +"Pickin' posies?" + +"Yes," answered Endicott, striving to speak lightly, "for a very +special occasion. We are to be married at half-past four, and we want +you to be there--just you, and Bat, and the parson. I hunted the town +for you and when I found your horse gone I--we thought you had ridden +away without even saying good-bye." + +"No," answered the cowboy slowly, "I didn't do that. I was goin' +back--just for a minute--at stage time. But, it's better this way. In +rooms--like at dinner, I ain't at home, any more. It's better out here +in the open. I won't go to your weddin'. Damn it, man, I _can't_! +I'm more than half-savage, I reckon. By the savage half of me, I ought +to kill you. I ought to hate you--but I can't. About a lot of things +you're green as hell. You can't shoot, nor ride, nor rope, nor do +hardly any other damn thing a man ought to do. But, at that, you whirl +a bigger loop than I do. You've got the nerve, an' the head, an' the +heart. You're a man. The girl loves you. An' I love her. My God, +man! More than all the world, I love the woman who is to be your +wife--an' I have no right to! I tell you I'm half-savage! Take her, +an' go! Go fast, an' go a long time! I never want to hear of you +again. But--I can still say--good luck!" he extended his hand and +Endicott seized it. + +"I shall be sorry to think that we are never to meet again," he said +simply. + +The shadow of a smile flickered on the Texan's lips: "After a while, +maybe--but not soon. I've got to lick a savage, first--and they die +hard." + +Endicott turned to go, when the other called to him: "Oh, Win!" He +turned. "Is she here--anywhere around? I must tell her good-bye." + +"Yes, she is down the creek a way. I'll send her to you." + +The Texan advanced to meet her, Stetson in hand: "Good-bye," he said, +"an' good luck. I can't give you no regular weddin' present--there's +nothin' in the town that's fit. But, I'll give you this--I'll give you +your man clean-handed. He ain't wanted. There's no one wants him--but +you. He didn't kill Purdy that night. It's too bad he didn't--but he +didn't. We all thought he did, but he only creased him. He came to, +after we'd pulled out. I heard it from the puncher I had the fight +with in the coulee--an' it's straight goods." He paused abruptly, and +the girl stared wide-eyed into his face. The wild flowers dropped from +her hands, and she laid trembling fingers upon his arm. + +"What are you saying?" she cried, fiercely. "That Purdy is not dead? +That Win didn't kill him? That----" + +"No. Win didn't kill him," interrupted the Texan, with a smile. + +"Have you told Win?" + +"No. Weddin' presents are for the bride. I saved it for you." + +Tears were streaming from the girl's eyes: "It's the most wonderful +wedding present anybody ever had," she sobbed. "I know Win did it for +me, and if he had killed him it would have been justifiable--right. +But, always, we would have had that thing to think of. It would have +been like some hideous nightmare. We could have put it away, but it +would have come again--always. I pretended I didn't care. I wouldn't +let him see that it was worrying me, even more than it worried him." + +The cowboy stooped and recovered the flowers from the ground. As Alice +took them from him, her hand met his: "Good-bye," she faltered, +"and--may God bless you!" + +At the rock she turned and saw him still standing, hat in hand, as she +had left him. Then she passed around the rock, and down the creek, +where her lover waited with his arms laden with blossoms. + + + + +AN EPILOGUE + +At exactly half-past four the Texan galloped to the door of the Red +Front Saloon, and swinging from his horse, entered. Some men were +playing cards at a table in the rear, but he paid them no heed. Very +deliberately he squared himself to the bar and placed his foot upon the +brass rail: "Give me some red liquor," he ordered. And when the +bartender set out the bottle and the glass the cowboy poured it full +and drank it at a gulp. He poured out another, and then a third, and a +fourth. The bartender eyed him narrowly: "Ain't you goin' it a little +strong, pardner?" he asked. The Texan stared at him as if he had not +heard, and answered nothing. A smile bent the white aproned one's lips +as he glanced into his customer's eyes still black from the blow Curt +had dealt him in the coulee. + +"Them lamps of yourn was turned up too high, wasn't they?" he asked. + +The cowboy nodded, thoughtfully: "Yes, that's it. They was turned up +too high--a damn sight too high for me, I reckon." + +"Git bucked off?" + +The blackened eyes narrowed ever so slightly: "No. A guard done that." + +"A guard?" + +"Yes, a guard." The Texan poured out his fifth drink. "In the pen, it +was." + +"In the pen!" The bartender was itching with curiosity. "You don't +look like a jail-bird. They musta got the wrong guy?" he suggested. + +"No. I killed him, all right. I shot his ears off first, an' then +plugged him between the eyes before he could draw. It was fun. I can +shoot straight as hell--an' quick! See that mouse over by the wall?" +Before the words were out of his mouth his Colt roared. The bartender +stared wide-eyed at the ragged bit of fur and blood that was plastered +against the base-board where a moment before a small mouse had been +nibbling a bit of cheese. The men at the card table paused, looked up, +and resumed their game. + +"Man, that's shootin'!" he exclaimed. "Have one on me! This geezer +that you bumped off--self defence, I s'pose?" + +"No. He was a bar-keep over on the Marias. He made the mistake of +takin' ondue notice of a pair of black eyes I'd got--somehow they +looked mirthful to him, an'--" The Texan paused and gazed +reproachfully toward a flick of a white apron as the loquacious one +disappeared through the back door. + +A loud shouting and a rattling of wheels sounded from without. The +card game broke up, and the players slouched out the door. Through the +window the Texan watched the stage pull up at the hotel, watched the +express box swung off, and the barn-dogs change the horses; saw the +exchange of pouches at the post office; saw the stage pull out slowly +and stop before a little white cottage next door to the steepleless +church. Then he reached for the bottle, poured another drink, and +drank it very slowly. Through the open door came the far-away rattle +of wheels. He tossed some money onto the bar, walked to the door, and +stood gazing down the trail toward the cloud of grey dust that grew +dimmer and dimmer in the distance. At last, it disappeared altogether, +and only the trail remained, winding like a great grey serpent toward +the distant black buttes of the Judith Range. He started to re-enter +the saloon, paused with his foot on the threshold and stared down the +empty trail, then facing abruptly about he swung into the saddle, +turned his horse's head northward, and rode slowly out of town. At the +little creek he paused and stared into the piney woods. A tiny white +flower lay, where it had been dropped in the trail, at the feet of his +horse, and he swung low and recovered it. For a long time he sat +holding the little blossom in his hand. Gently he drew it across his +cheek. He remembered--and the memory hurt--that the last time he had +reached from the saddle had been to snatch _her_ handkerchief from the +ground, and he had been just the fraction of a second too late. + +"My luck's runnin' mighty low," he muttered softly, and threw back his +shoulders, as his teeth gritted hard, "but I'm still in the game, an' +maybe this will change it." Very carefully, very tenderly, he placed +the blossom beneath the band inside his hat. "I must go an' hunt for +Bat, the old renegade! If anything's happened to him--if that damned +Long Bill has laid for him--I will kill a man, sure enough." He +gathered up his reins and rode on up the trail, and as he rode the +shadows lengthened. Only once he paused and looked backward at the +little ugly white town. Before him the trail dipped into a wide valley +and he rode on. And, as the feet of his horse thudded softly in the +grey dust of the trail, the sound blended with the low, wailing chant +of the mournful dirge of the plains: + + "O bury me not on the lone prairie + Where the wild coyotes will howl o'er me, + Where the rattlesnakes hiss and the crow flies free, + O bury me not on the lone prairie." + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TEXAN*** + + +******* This file should be named 16976.txt or 16976.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/9/7/16976 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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