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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/33039-8.txt b/33039-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fd50282 --- /dev/null +++ b/33039-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8897 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Orphan, by Clarence E. Mulford + +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 Orphan + +Author: Clarence E. Mulford + +Illustrator: Allen True + +Release Date: July 1, 2010 [EBook #33039] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ORPHAN *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.fadedpage.net + + + + + +THE ORPHAN + + + + +[Illustration: "She unfastened the gold breast-pin which she wore at her +throat and pinned the bandage into place." (_See page 95._)] + + + + +THE ORPHAN + +By Clarence E. Mulford + +Author of "Bar-20" + +With Four Illustrations in Colors + +By ALLEN TRUE + +A. L. BURT COMPANY + +PUBLISHERS NEW YORK + + + + +Copyright, 1908, by + +THE OUTING PUBLISHING COMPANY + +Entered at Stationer's Hall, London, England + +All Rights Reserved + +THE ORPHAN + + + + +AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED TO + +MY MOTHER + + + + +CONTENTS + + I THE SHERIFF RIDES TO WAR 3 + II CONCERNING AN ARROW 14 + III THE SHERIFF FINDS THE ORPHAN 33 + IV THE SECOND OFFENSE 45 + V BILL JUSTIFIES HIS CREATION 60 + VI THE ORPHAN OBEYS AN IMPULSE 80 + VII THE OUTFIT HUNTS FOR STRAYS 104 + VIII "A TIMBER WOLF IN HIS OWN COUNTRY" 125 + IX THE CROSS BAR-8 LOSES SLEEP 131 + X THE ORPHAN PAYS TWO CALLS 147 + XI A VOICE FROM THE GALLERY 173 + XII A NEW DEAL ALL AROUND 193 + XIII THE STAR C GIVES WELCOME 210 + XIV THE SHERIFF STATES SOME FACTS 240 + XV AN UNDERSTANDING 266 + XVI THE FLYING-MARE 284 + XVII THE FEAST 299 + XVIII PREPARATION 325 + XIX THE ORPHAN GOES TO THE A-Y 340 + XX BILL ATTENDS THE PICNIC 352 + XXI THE ANNOUNCEMENT 368 + XXII TEX WILLIARD'S MISTAKE 375 + XXIII THE GREAT HAPPINESS 392 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + "She unfastened the gold breast-pin which she + wore at her throat and pinned the bandage into + place" _Frontispiece_ + "'The less you count the longer you'll live!' + said Shields" 192 + The Orphan gives Blake Shields' note 214 + "The Orphan stepped back a pace and dropped the + Colt into its holster" 390 + + + + +THE ORPHAN + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE SHERIFF RIDES TO WAR + + +Many men swore that The Orphan was bad, and many swore profanely and with +wonderful command of epithets because he was bad, but for obvious reasons +that was as far as the majority went to show their displeasure. Those of +the minority who had gone farther and who had shown their hatred by rash +actions only proved their foolishness; for they had indeed gone far and +would return no more. + +Tradition had it that The Orphan was a mongrel, a half-breed, asserting +that his mother had been a Sioux with negro blood in her veins. It also +asserted that his father had been nominated and unanimously elected, by a +posse, to an elevated position under a tree; and further, that The Orphan +himself had been born during a cloudburst at midnight on the thirteenth +of the month. The latter was from the Mexicans, who found great delight in +making such terrifying combinations of ill luck. + +But tradition was strongly questioned as to his mother, for how could +the son of such a mother be possessed of the dare-devil courage and grit +which had made his name a synonym of terror? This contention was well +stated and is borne out, for it can be authoritatively said that the +mother of The Orphan was white, and had neither Indian nor negro blood +in her veins, but on the contrary came from a family of gentlefolk. +Thus I start aright by refuting slander. The Orphan was white, his +profanity blue, and his anger red, and having started aright, I will +continue with the events which led to the discovery of his innate better +qualities and their final ascendency over the savagely hard nature +which circumstances had bred in him. These events began on the day +when James Shields, for reasons hereinafter set forth, became actively +interested in his career. + +Shields, by common consent Keeper of the Law over a territory as large as +the State of New Jersey and whom out of courtesy I will call sheriff, +was no coward, and neither was he a fool; and when word came to him +that The Orphan had made a mess of two sheep herders near the U Bend of +the Limping Water Creek, he did not forthwith pace the street and +inform the citizens of Ford's Station that he was about to start on a +journey which had for its object the congratulation of The Orphan at +long range. Upon occasions his taciturnity became oppressive, especially +when grave dangers or tense situations demanded concentration of thought. +The more he thought the less he talked, the one notable exception +being when stirred to righteous anger by personal insults, in which case +his words flowed smoothly along one channel while his thoughts gripped a +single idea. To his acquaintances he varied as the mood directed, often +saying practically nothing for hours, and at other times discoursing +volubly. One thing, a word of his, had become proverbial--when Shields +said "Hell!" he was in no mood for pleasantries, and the third repetition +of the word meant red, red anger. He was a man of strong personality, +who loved his friends in staunch, unswerving loyalty; and he tolerated +his enemies until the last ditch had been reached. + +He, like The Orphan, was essentially a humorist in the finest definition +of the term, inasmuch as he could find humor in the worst possible +situations. He was even now forcibly struck with the humor of his +contemplated ride, for The Orphan would be so very much surprised to see +him. He could picture the expression of weary toleration which would +grace the outlaw's face over the sights, and he chuckled inwardly as +he thought of how The Orphan would swear. He did his shooting as an +unavoidable duty, a business, a stern necessity; and he took great +delight in its accuracy. When he shot at a man he did it with becoming +gravity, but nevertheless he radiated pride and cheerfulness when he hit +the man's nose or eye or Adam's apple at a hundred yards. All the time +he knew that the man ought to die, that it was a case of necessity, and +this explains why he was so pleased about the eye or nose or Adam's apple. + +With The Orphan popular opinion said it was far different; that his humor +was ghastly, malevolent, murderous; that he shot to kill with the +same gravity, but that it was that of icy determination, chilling +ferocity. He was said to be methodical in the taking of innocent life, +even more accurate than the sheriff, wily and shrewd as the leader of +a wolf-pack, and equally relentless. The Orphan was looked upon as an +abnormal development of the idea of destruction; the sheriff, a corrective +force, and almost as strong as the evil he would endeavor to overcome. +The two came as near to the scientists' little joke of the irresistible +force meeting the immovable body as can be found in human agents. + +So Shields, upon hearing of The Orphan's latest manifestation of humor, +appreciated the joke to the fullest extent and made up his mind to play +a similar one on the frisky outlaw. He could not help but sympathize +with The Orphan, because every man knew what pests the sheepmen were, +and Shields, at one time a cowman, was naturally prejudiced against +sheep. He was exceedingly weary of having to guard herds of bleating +grass-shavers which so often passed across his domain, and he regarded +the sheep-raising industry as an unnecessary evil which should by all +rights be deported. But he could not excuse The Orphan's crude and savage +idea of deportation. The sheriff was really kind-hearted, and he became +angry when he thought of the outlaw driving two thousand sheep over +the steep bank of the Limping Water to a pitiful death by drowning; The +Orphan should have been satisfied in messing up the anatomy of the +herders. He did not like a glutton, and he would tell the outlaw so +in his own way. + +He walked briskly through his yard and called to his wife as he passed +the house, telling her that he was going to be gone for an indefinite +period, not revealing the object of his journey, as he did not wish +to worry her. Accustomed as she was to have him face danger, she had a +loving wife's fear for his safety, and lost many hours' sleep while he +was away. He took his rifle from where it leaned against the porch and +continued on his way to the small corral in the rear of the yard, where +two horses whisked flies and sought the shade. Leading one of them +outside, he deftly slung a saddle to its back, secured the cinches +and put on a light bridle. Dropping the Winchester into its saddle +holster, he mounted and fought the animal for a few minutes just as he +always had to fight it. He spun the cylinders of his .45 Colts and ran his +fingers along the under side of his belt for assurance as to ammunition. +Seeing that the black leather case which was slung from the pommel of +the saddle contained his field glass and that his canteen was full of +water, he rode to the back door of his house, where his wife gave him +a bag of food. Promising her that he would take good care of himself +and to return as speedily as possible, he cantered through the gate +and down the street toward the "Oasis," the door of which was always open. +Two dogs were stretched out in the doorway, lazily snapping at flies. +As the sheriff drew rein he heard snores which wheezed from the barroom. + +"Say, Dan!" he cried loudly. "Dan!" + +"Shout it out, Sheriff," came the response from within the darkened room, +and the bartender appeared at the door. + +"If anybody wants me, they may find me at Brent's; I'm going out that +way," the sheriff said, as he loosened the reins. "Bite, d------n you," +he growled at his horse. + +"All right, Jim," sleepily replied the bartender, watching the peace +officer as he cantered briskly down the street. He yawned, stretched +and returned to his chair, there to doze lightly as long as he might. + +Shields usually left word at the Oasis as to where he might be found in +case he should be badly needed, but in this instance he had left word +where he could not be found if needed. He cantered out of the town over +the trail which led to Brent's ranch and held to it until he had put +great enough distance behind to assure him that he was out of sight of any +curious citizen of Ford's Station. Then he wheeled abruptly as he reached +the bottom of an arroyo and swung sharply to the northeast at a right +angle to his former course and pushed his mount at a lope around the +chaparrals and cacti, all the time riding more to the east and in the +direction of the U Bend of the Limping Water. He frowned slightly and +grumbled as he estimated that The Orphan would have nearly three hours' +start of him by the time he reached his objective, which meant a long +chase in the pursuit of such a man. + +To a tenderfoot the heat would have been very oppressive, even dangerous, +but the sheriff thought it an ideal temperature for hunting. He smiled +pleasantly at his surroundings and was pleased by the playful vim of +his belligerent pinto, whose actions were not in the least intended to +be playful. When the animal suddenly turned its head and nipped hard and +quick at the sheriff's legs, getting a mouthful of nasty leather and +seasoned ash for its reward, he gleefully kicked the pony in the eye +when it let go, and then rowelled a streak of perforations in its ugly +hide with his spurs as an encouragement. The ensuing bucking was joy +to his heart, and he feared that he might eventually grow to like the +animal. + +When he arrived at the U Bend he put in half an hour burying the human +butts of The Orphan's joke, for the perpetrator liked to leave his +trophies where they could be seen and appreciated. Shields looked sadly +at the dead sheep, said "Hell" twice and forded the stream, picked up the +outlaw's trail on the further side and cantered along it. The trail +was very plain to him, straight as a chalk line, and it led toward +the northeast, which suited the sheriff, because there was a goodly +sized water hole twenty miles further on in that direction. Perhaps he +would find The Orphan fortified there, for it would be just like that +person to monopolize the only drinking water within twenty miles and +force his humorous adversary to either take the hole or go back to the +Limping Water for a drink. Anyway, The Orphan would get awfully soiled +wallowing about in the mud and water, and he would not hurt the water +much unless he lacked the decency to bleed on the bank. Having decided +to take the hole in preference to riding back to the creek, the sheriff +immediately dismissed that phase of the game from his mind and fell to +musing about the rumors which had persistently reiterated that the +Apaches were out. + +Practical joking with The Orphan and interfering with the traveling of +Apache war parties were much the same in results, so the sheriff made +up his mind to attend to the lesser matter, if need be, after he had +quieted the man he was following. Everybody knew that Apaches were very +bad, but that The Orphan was worse; and, besides, the latter would be +laughing derisively about that matter concerning a drink. The sheriff +grinned and rode happily forward, taking pains, however, to circle +around all chaparrals and covers of every nature, for he did not know but +that his playful enemy might have tired of riding before the water +hole had been reached and decided to camp out under cover. While the +sheriff was unafraid, he had befitting respect for the quality of The +Orphan's marksmanship, which was reputed as being above reproach; and he +was not expected to determine offhand whether the outlaw was above lying +in ambush. So he used his field glass constantly in sweeping covers and +rode forward toward the water hole. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +CONCERNING AN ARROW + + +The bleak foreground of gray soil, covered with drifts of alkali and +sand, was studded with clumps of mesquite and cacti and occasional tufts +of sun-burned grass, dusty and somber, while a few sagebrush blended their +leaves to the predominating color. Back of this was a near horizon to the +north and east, brought near by the skyline of a low, undulating range +of sand hills rising from the desert to meet a faded sky. The morning +glow brought this skyline into sharp definition as the dividing line +between the darkness of the plain in the shadow of the range and the fast +increasing morning light. To the south and west the plain blended into +the sky, and there was no horizon. + +Two trails met and crossed near a sand-buffeted bowlder of lava stone, +which was huge, grotesque and forbidding in its bulky indistinctness. +The first of the trails ran north and south and was faint but plainly +discernible, being beaten a trifle below the level of the desert and +forming a depression which the winds alternately filled and emptied of +dust; and its arrow-like directness, swerving neither to the right nor +left, bespoke of the haste which urged the unfortunate traveler to +have done with it as speedily as possible, since there was nothing +alluring along its heat-cursed course to bid him tarry in his riding. +There was yet another reason for haste, for the water holes were over +fifty miles apart, and in that country water holes were more or less +uncertain and doubtful as to being free from mineral poisons. On the +occasions when the Apaches awoke to find that many of their young men +were missing, and a proved warrior or two, this trail become weighted +with possibilities, for this desert was the playground of war parties, an +unlimited ante-room for the preliminaries to predatory pilgrimages; and +the northern trail then partook of the nature of a huge wire over which +played an alternating current, the potentials of which were the ranges +at one end and the savagery and war spirit of the painted tribes at the +other: and the voltage was frequently deadly. + +The other trail, crossing the first at right angles, led eastward to the +fertile valleys of the Canadian and the Cimarron; westward it spread out +like the sticks of a fan to anywhere and nowhere, gradually resolving +itself into the fainter and still more faint individual paths which +fed it as single strands feed a rope. It lacked the directness of its +intersector because of the impenetrable chaparrals which forced it to +wander hither and yon. Neither was it as plain to the eye, for preference, +except in cases of urgent necessity, foreswore its saving of miles and +journeyed by the more circuitous southern trail which wound beneath +cottonwoods and mottes of live oak and frequently dipped beneath the +waters of sluggish streams, the banks of which were fringed with willows. + +As a lean coyote loped past the point of intersection a moving object +suddenly topped the skyline of the southern end of the sandhills to the +east and sprang into sharp silhouette, paused for an instant on the edge +of the range and then, plunging down into the shadows at its base, rode +rapidly toward the bowlder. + +He was an Apache, and was magnificent in his proportions and the easy +erectness of his poise. He glanced sharply about him, letting his gaze +finally settle on the southern trail and then, leaning over, he placed an +object on the highest point of the rock. Wheeling abruptly, he galloped +back over his trail, the rising wind setting diligently at work to cover +the hoofprints of his pony. He had no sooner dropped from sight over the +hills than another figure began to be defined in the dim light, this time +from the north. + +The newcomer rode at an easy canter and found small pleasure in the cloud +of alkali dust which the wind kept at pace with him. His hat, the first +visible sign of his calling, proclaimed him to be a cowboy, and when +he had stopped at the bowlder his every possession endorsed the silent +testimony of the hat. + +He was bronzed and self-reliant, some reason for the latter being +suggested by the long-barreled rifle which swung from his right saddle +skirt and the pair of Colt's which lay along his thighs. He wore the +usual blue flannel shirt, open at the throat, the regular silk kerchief +about his neck, and the indispensable chaps, which were of angora +goatskin. His boots were tight fitting, with high heels, and huge +brass spurs projected therefrom. A forty-foot coil of rawhide hung from +the pommel of his "rocking-chair" saddle and a slicker was strapped +behind the cantle. + +He glanced behind him as he drew rein, wondering when the sheriff would +show himself, for he was being followed, of that he was certain. That was +why he had ridden through so many chaparrals and doubled on his trail. +He was now riding to describe a circle, the object being to get behind +his pursuer and to do some hunting on his own account. As he started to +continue on his way his quick eyes espied something on the bowlder +which made him suddenly draw rein again. Glancing to the ground he saw +the tracks made by the Apache, and he peered intently along the eastern +trail with his hand shading his eyes. The eyes were of a grayish blue, +hard and steely and cruel. They were calculating eyes, and never missed +anything worth seeing. The fierce glare of the semi-tropical sun which for +many years had daily assaulted them made it imperative that he squint +from half-closed lids, and had given his face a malevolent look. And the +characteristics promised by the eyes were endorsed by his jaw, which was +square and firm set, underlying thin, straight lips. But about his +lips were graven lines so cynical and yet so humorous as to baffle an +observer. + +Raising his canteen to his lips he counted seven swallows and then, +letting it fall to his side, he picked up the object which had made +him pause. There was no surprise in his face, for he never was surprised +at anything. + +As he looked at the object he remembered the rumors of the Apache war +dances and of fast-riding, paint-bedaubed "hunting parties." What had been +rumor he now knew to be a fact, and his face became even more cruel as +he realized that he was playing tag with the sheriff in the very heart +of the Apache playground, where death might lurk in any of the thorny +covers which surrounded him on all sides. + +"Apache war arrow," he grunted. "Now it shore beats the devil that me and +the sheriff can't have a free rein to settle up our accounts. Somebody is +always sticking their nose in my business," he grumbled. Then he frowned +at the arrow in his hand. "That red on the head is blood," he murmured, +noticing the salient points of the weapon, "and that yellow hair means +good scalping. The thong of leather spells plunder, and it was pointing +to the east. The buck that brought it went back again, so this is to +show his friends which way to ride. He was in a hurry, too, judging from +the way he threw sand, and from them toe-prints." + +He hated Apaches vindictively, malevolently, with a single purpose and +instinct, because of a little score he owed them. Once when he had managed +to rustle together a big herd of horses and was within a day's ride of a +ready market, a party of Apaches had ridden up in the night and made off +with not only the stolen animals, but also with his own horse. This had +lost him a neat sum and had forced him to carry a forty-pound saddle, a +bridle and a rifle for two days under a merciless sun before he reached +civilization. He did not thank them for not killing him, which they for +some reason neglected to do. Apache stock was down very low with him, and +he now had an opportunity to even the score. Then he thought of the +sheriff, and swore. Finally he decided that he would just shoot that +worthy as soon as he came within range, and so be free to play his lone +hand against the race that had stolen his horses. His eyes twinkled +at the game he was about to play, and he regarded the silent message and +guide with a smile. + +"If it's all the same to you, I'll just polish you up a bit"--and when +he replaced it on the bowlder its former owner would not have known +it to be the same weapon, for its head was not red, but as bright as +the friction of a handful of sand could make it. This destroyed its +message of plentiful slaughter and, he knew, would grieve his enemies. +He touched it gently with his hand and it swung at right angles to its +former position and now pointed northward and in the direction from which +he expected the sheriff. + +"It was d----d nice of that Apache leaving me this, but I reckon I'll +switch them reinforcements--the sheriff will be some pleased to meet +them," he said, grinning at the novelty of the situation. "Nobody +will even suspect how a lone puncher"--for he regarded himself as a +cowman--"squaring up a couple of scores went and saved the eastern +valleys from more devilment. If the war-whoops are out along the Cimarron +and Canadian they are shore havin' fun enough to give me a little. But +I would like to see the sheriff's face when he bumps into the little +party I'm sending his way. Wonder how many he will get before he goes +under?" + +Then he again took up the arrow and carefully removed the hair and thong +of leather, chuckling at the tale of woe the denuded weapon would tell, +after which he placed it as before, wishing he knew how to indicate that +the Apaches had been wiped out. + +He rode to a chaparral which lay three hundred yards to the southeast of +him and thence around it to the far side, where he dismounted and fastened +his horse to the empty air by simply allowing the reins to hang down in +front of the animal's eyes. The pony knew many things about ropes and +straps, and what it knew it knew well; nothing short of dynamite would +have moved it while the reins dangled before its eyes. + +Its master slowly returned to the bowlder, where he set to work to cover +his tracks with dust, for although the shifting sand was doing this for +him, it was not doing it fast enough to suit him. When he had assured +himself that he had performed his task in a thoroughly workmanlike manner +he returned to his horse, and finally found a snug place of concealment +for it and himself. First bandaging its eyes so that it would not whinny +at the approach of other horses, he searched his pockets and finally +brought to light a pack of greasy playing cards, with which he amused +himself at solitaire, diligently keeping his eyes on both ends of the +heavier trail. + +His intermittent scrutiny was finally rewarded by a cloud of dust which +steadily grew larger on the southern horizon and soon revealed the +character of the riders who made it. As they drew nearer to him his +implacable hatred caused him to pick up his rifle, but he let it slide +from him as he counted the number of the approaching party, before +which was being driven a herd of horses which were intended to be placed +as relays for the main force. + +"Two, five, eight, eleven, sixteen, twenty, twenty-four, twenty-seven," +he muttered, carefully settling himself more comfortably. He could +distinguish the war paint on the reddish-brown colored bodies, and he +smiled at what was in store for them. + +"I reckon I won't get gay with no twenty-seven Apaches," he muttered. "I +can wait, all right." + +Upon reaching the rock the leaders of the band glanced at the arrow, +excitedly exchanged monosyllables and set off to the north at a hard +gallop, being followed by the others. As he expected, they were Apaches, +which meant that of all red raiders they were the most proficient. They +were human hyenas with rare intelligence for war and a most aggravating +way of not being where one would expect them to be, as army officers will +testify. Besides, an Apache war party did not appear to have stomachs, +and so traveled faster and farther than the cavalry which so often +pursued them. + +The watcher chuckled softly at the success of his stratagem and, suddenly +arising, went carefully around the chaparral until he could see the +fast-vanishing braves. Waiting until they had disappeared over the +northern end of the crescent-shaped range of hills, he hurried to the +bowlder and again picked up the arrow. + +"Huh! Didn't take it with them, eh?" he soliloquized. "Well, that +means that there's more coming, so I'll just send the next batch plumb +west--they'll be some pleased to explore this God-forsaken desert some +extensive." + +Grinning joyously, he replaced the weapon with its head pointing westward +and then looked anxiously at the tracks of the party which had just +passed. Deciding that the wind would effectually cover them in an hour +at most, he returned to his hiding place, taking care to cover his own +tracks. Taking a chance on the second contingent going north was all +right, but he didn't care to run the risk of having them ride to him for +explanations. Picking up the cards again he shuffled them and suffered +defeat after defeat, and finally announced his displeasure at the luck +he was having. + +"I never saw nothing like it!" he grumbled petulantly. "Reckon I'll +hit up the Old Thirteen a few," beginning a new game. He had whiled +away an hour and a half, and as he stretched himself his uneasy eyes +discovered another cloud on the southern horizon, which was smaller than +the first. He placed the six of hearts on the five of hearts, ruffled +the pack and then put the cards down and took up his rifle, watching the +cloud closely. He was soon able to count seven warriors who were driving +another "cavvieyeh" of horses. + +"Huh! Only seven!" he grunted, shifting his rifle for action. The fighting +lust swept over him, but he choked it down and idly fingered the hammer of +the gun. "Nope, I reckon not--seven husky Apaches are too much for one +man to go out of his way to fight. Now, if the sheriff was only with me," +and he grinned at the humor of it, "we might cut loose and heave lead. +But since he ain't, this is where I don't chip in--I'll wait a while, +for they'll shore come back." + +The seven warriors went through almost the same actions which their +predecessors had gone through and great excitement prevailed among them. +The leaders pointed to the very faint tracks which led northward and +debated vehemently. But the two small stones which held the arrow securely +in its position against the possibility of the wind shifting it could +not be doubted, and after a few minutes had passed they rode as bidden, +leaving one of their number on guard at the bowlder. Soon the other +six were lost to sight among the chaparrals to the west and the guard sat +stolidly under the blazing sun. + +The dispatcher noted the position of a shadow thrown on the sand by a +cactus and laughed silently as he fingered his rifle. He could not think +out the game. Try as he would, he could find no really good excuse for +the placing of the guard, although many presented themselves, to be +finally cast aside. But the fact was enough, and when the moving shadow +gave assurance that nearly an hour had passed since the departure of +the guard's companions, the man with the grudge cautiously arose on one +knee. + +After examining the contents of his rifle, he brought it slowly to +his shoulder. A quick, calculating glance told him that the range was +slightly over three hundred yards, and he altered the elevation of the +rear sights accordingly. After a pause, during which he gauged the +strength and velocity of the northern wind, he dropped his cheek against +the walnut stock of the weapon. The echoless report rang out flatly +and a sudden gust of hot wind whipped the ragged, gray smoke cloud into +the chaparral, where it lay close to the ground and spread out like a +miniature fog. As the smoke cleared away a second cartridge, inserted +deftly and quickly, sent another cloud of smoke into the chaparral +and the marksman arose to his feet, mechanically reloading his gun. The +second shot was for the guard's horse, for it would be unnecessarily +perilous to risk its rejoining the departed braves, which it very probably +would do if allowed to escape. + +Dropping his rifle into the hollow of his arm he walked swiftly toward +the fallen Indian, hoping that there would be no more war parties, for +he had now made signs which the most stupid Apache could not fail to note +and understand. The dead guard could be hidden, and by the use of his own +horse and rope he could drag the carcass of the animal into the chaparral +and out of sight. But the trail which would be left in the loose sand +would be too deep and wide to be covered. He had crossed the Rubicon, and +must stand or fall by the step. + +The Indian had fallen forward against the bowlder and had slid down its +side, landing on his head and shoulders, in which grotesque position the +rock supported him. One glance assured the "cowman" that his aim had +been good, and another told him that he had to fear the arrival of no +more war parties, for the arrow was gone. He was not satisfied, however, +until he had made a good search for it, thinking that it might have +been displaced by the fall of the Apache. He lifted the body of the +dead warrior in his arms and flung it across the apex of the bowlder, +face up and balanced nicely, the head pointing to the north. Then he +looked for the arrow on the sand where the body had rested, but it was +not to be found. A sardonic grin flitted across his face as he secured +the weapons of the late guard, which were a heavy Colt's revolver and a +late pattern Winchester repeater. Taking the cartridges from his body, he +stood up triumphant. He now had what he needed to meet the smaller body +of Indians on their return, ten shots in one rifle and a spare Colt's. + +"One for my cavvieyeh!" he muttered savagely as he thought of the loss of +his horse herd. "There'll be more, too, before I get through, or my +name's not"-- he paused abruptly, hearing hoofbeats made by a galloping +horse over a stretch of hard soil which lay to the east of him. Leaping +quickly behind the bowlder, he leveled his own rifle across the body of +the guard and peered intently toward the east, wondering if the advancing +horseman would be the sheriff or another Apache. The hoofbeats came +rapidly nearer and another courier turned the corner of the chaparral +and went no further. Again a second shot took care of the horse and the +marksman strode to his second victim, from whose body and horse he took +another Winchester and Colt. + +"Now I am in for it!" he muttered as he looked down at the warrior. "This +is shore getting warm and it'll be a d----n sight warmer if his friends +get anxious about him and hunt him up." + +Glancing around the horizon and seeing no signs of an interruption, he +slung the body across his shoulders and staggered with it to the bowlder, +where he heaved and pushed it across the body of the first Apache. + +"Might as well make a good showing and make them mad, for I can't very +well hide you and the cayuses--I ain't no graveyard," he said, stepping +back to look at his work. He felt no remorse, for that was a sensation +not yet awakened in his consciousness. He was elated at his success, +joyous in catering to his love for fighting, for he would rather die +fighting than live the round of years heavily monotonous with peace, +and his only regret was having won by ambush. But in this, he told +himself, there was need, for his hatred ordered him to kill as many as +he could, and in any way possible. Knowing that he was, single-handed, +attempting to outwit wily chiefs and that he had before him a carnival of +fighting, he would not have hesitated to make use of traps if they were +at hand and could be used. Perhaps it was old Geronimo whose plans he +was defeating and, if so, no precautions nor means were unjustifiable and +too mean to make use of, for Geronimo was half-brother to the devil and a +genius for warfare and slaughter, with a ferocity and cruelty cold-blooded +and consummate. + +He had yet time to escape from his perilous position and meet the sheriff, +if that worthy had eluded the first war party. But his elation had the +upper hand and his brute courage was now blind to caution. He savagely +decided that his matter with the sheriff could wait and that he would +take care of the war parties first, since there was more honor in fighting +against odds. The two Winchesters and his own Sharps, not to consider +the four Colt's, gave him many shots without having to waste time in +reloading, and he drew assurance from the past that he placed his shots +quickly and with precision. He could put up a magnificent fight in the +chaparral, shifting his position after each shot, and he could hug the +ground where the trunks of the vegetation were thickest and would prove +an effective barrier against random shots. His wits were keen, his legs +nimble, his eyesight and accuracy above doubt, and he had no cause to +believe that his strategy was inferior to that of his foes. There would be +no moon for two nights, and he could escape in the darkness if hunger +and thirst should drive him out. Here he had struck, and here he would +strike again and again, and, if he fell, he would leave behind him such +a tale of fighting as had seldom been known before; and it pleased his +vanity to think of the amazement the story would call forth as it was +recounted around the campfires and across the bars of a country larger +than Europe. He did not realize that such a tale would die if he died and +would never be known. His was the joy of a master of the game, a virile, +fearless fighting machine, a man who had never failed in the playing of +the many hands he had held in desperate games with death. He was not +going to die; he was going to win and leave dying for others. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE SHERIFF FINDS THE ORPHAN + + +The day dragged wearily along for the man in the chaparral, and when the +sun showed that it was still two hours from the meridian he leaped to +his feet, rifle in hand, and peered intently to the west, where he +had seen a fast-riding horseman flit between two chaparrals which stood +far down on the western end of the Cimarron Trail. Without pausing, he +made his way out of cover and ran rapidly along the edge of the thicket +until he had gained its northwestern extremity, where he plunged into +it, unmindful of the cuts and slashes from the interlocked thorns. +Using the rifle as a club, he hammered and pushed until he was screened +from the view of anyone passing along the trail, but where he could +see all who approached. As he turned and faced the west he saw the +horseman suddenly emerge from the shelter of the last chaparral in his +course and ride straight for the intersection of the trails, his horse +flattened to the earth by the speed it was making. Waiting until the +rider was within fifty yards of him, he pushed his way out to the trail, +the rifle leaping to his shoulder as he stepped into the open. The +newcomer was looking back at half a dozen Apaches who had burst into view +by the chaparral he had just quitted, and when he turned he was stopped +by a hail and the sight of an unwavering rifle held by the man on foot. + +"A truce!" shouted The Orphan from behind the sights, having an idea and +wishing to share it. + +"Hell, yes!" cried the astonished sheriff in reply, slowing down and +mechanically following the already running outlaw to the place where +the latter had spent the last few hours. + +By keeping close to the edge of the chaparral, which receded from the +trail, The Orphan had not been seen by the Apaches, and as he turned into +his hiding place a yell reached his ears. His trophies on the bowlder +were not to be unmourned. + +As he wormed his way into the thicket, closely followed by the sheriff, +he tersely explained the situation, and Shields, feeling somewhat under +obligation to the man who had refrained from killing him, nodded and +smiled in good nature. The sheriff thought it was a fine joke and +enthusiastically slapped his enemy on the back to show his appreciation, +for the time forgetting that they very probably would try to kill each +other later on, after the Apaches had been taken care of. + +As they reached a point which gave them a clear view of the bowlder, The +Orphan kicked his companion on the shin, pointing to the Apaches grouped +around their dead. + +"It's a little over three hundred, Sheriff," he said. "You shoot first and +I'll follow you, so they'll think you shot twice--there's no use letting +them think that there's two of us, that is, not yet." + +"Good idea," replied the sheriff, nodding and throwing his rifle to +his shoulder. "Right end for me," he said, calling his shot so as to be +sure that the same brave would not receive all the attention. As he fired +his companion covered the second warrior, using one of his captured +Winchesters, and a second later the rifle spun flame. Both warriors +dropped and the remaining four hastily postponed their mourning and +tumbled helter skelter behind the bowlder, the sheriff's second shot +becoming a part of the last one to find cover. + +"Fine!" exulted the sheriff, delighted at the score. "Best game I ever +took a hand in, d-----d if it ain't! We'll have them guessing so hard that +they'll get brain fever." + +"Three shots in as many seconds will make them think that they are +facing a Winchester in the hands of a crack shot," remarked The Orphan, +smiling with pleasure at the sheriff's appreciation. "They'll think +that if they can back off from the bowlder and keep it between them and +you that they can get out of range in a few hundred yards more. That is +where I come in again. You sling a little lead to let them know that you +haven't moved a whole lot, but stop in a couple of minutes, while I go +down the line a ways. The chaparral sweeps to the north quite a little, +and mebby I can drop a slug behind their fort from down there. That'll +make them think you are a jack rabbit at covering ground and will bother +them. If they rush, which they won't after tasting that kind of shooting, +you whistle good and loud and we'll make them plumb disgusted. I'll take +a Winchester along with me, so they won't have any cause to suspect that +you are an arsenal. So long." + +The sheriff glanced up as his companion departed and was pleased at the +outlaw's command of the situation. He had a good chance to wipe out the +man, but that he would not do, for The Orphan trusted him, and Shields +was one who respected a thing like that. + +The outlaw finally stopped about a hundred yards down the trail and looked +out, using his glasses. A brown shoulder showed under the overhanging side +of the bowlder and he smiled, readjusting the sights on the Winchester as +he waited. Soon the shoulder raised from the ground and pushed out farther +into sight. Then a poll of black hair showed itself and slowly raised. +The Orphan took deliberate aim and pulled the trigger. The head dropped to +the sand and the shoulder heaved convulsively once or twice and then lay +quiet. Leaping up, the marksman hastened back to the side of the sheriff, +who did not trouble himself to look up. + +"I got him, Sheriff," he said. "Work up to the other end and I'll go back +to where I came from. They have got all the fighting they have any use for +and will be backing away purty soon now. The range from the point where I +held you is some closer than it is from here, so you ought to get in a +shot when they get far enough back." + +"All right," pleasantly responded Shields, vigorously attacking the thorns +as he began his journey to the western end of the thicket. "Ouch!" he +exclaimed as he felt the pricks. Then he stopped and slowly turned and +saw The Orphan smiling at him, and grinned: + +"Say," he began, "why can't I go around?" he asked, indicating with a +sweep of his arm the southern edge of the chaparral, and intimating that +it would be far more pleasant to skirt the thorns than to buck against +them. "These d------d thorns ain't no joke!" he added emphatically. + +The outlaw's smile enlarged and he glanced quickly at the bowlder to see +that all was as it should be. + +"You can go around in one day afoot," he replied. "By that time +they"--pointing to the Apaches--"will have made a day's journey on +cayuses. And we simply mustn't let them get the best of us that way." + +Shields grinned and turned half-way around again: "It's a whole lot dry +out here," he said, "and my canteen is on my cayuse." + +"Here, pardner," replied The Orphan, holding out his canteen and watching +the effect of the familiarity. "Seven swallows is the dose." + +The sheriff faced him, took the vessel, counted seven swallows and +returned it. + +"I'm some moist now," he remarked, as he returned to the thorns. "It's +too d------n bad you're bad," he grumbled. "You'd make a blamed good +cow-puncher." + +The Orphan, still smiling, placed his hands on hips and watched the +rapidly disappearing arm of the law. + +"He's all right--too bad he'll make me shoot him," he soliloquized, +turning toward his post. As he crawled through a particularly badly matted +bit of chaparral he stopped to release himself and laughed outright. "How +in thunder did he get so far west? My trail was as plain as day, too." +When he had reached his destination and had settled down to watch the +bowlder he laughed again and muttered: "Mebby he figured it out that I +was doubling back and was laying for me to show up. And that's just the +way I would have gone, too. He ain't any fool, all right." + +He thought of the sheriff at the far end of the chaparral and of the +repeater he carried, and an inexplicable impulse of generosity surged +over him. The sheriff would be pleased to do the rest himself, he thought, +and the thought was father to the act. He picked up the Winchester he +had brought with him and fired at the bowlder, only wishing to let the +Apaches know his position so that they would think the way clear to +the northwest, and so innocently give the sheriff a shot at them as +they retreated. Dropping the Winchester he took up his Sharps, his pet +rifle, with which he had done wonderful shooting, and arose to one +knee, supporting his left elbow on the other; between the fingers of +his left hand he held a cartridge in order that no time should be lost in +reloading. The range was now five hundred yards, and when The Orphan knew +the exact range he swore with rage if he missed. + +His shot had the effect he hoped it would have, for suddenly there was +movement behind the bowlder. A pony's hip showed for an instant and +then leaped from sight as the outlaw reloaded. A cloud of dust arose to +the northwest of and behind the bowlder, and a series of close reports +sounded from the direction of the sheriff. The Orphan leaped to his feet +and dashed out on the plain to where his sight would not be obstructed +and saw an Apache, who hung down on the far side of his horse, sweep +northward and gallop along the northern trail. He fired, but the range +was too great, and the warrior soon dropped from sight over the range +of hills. As The Orphan made his way toward the bowlder the sheriff +emerged from his shelter and pointed to the west. A pony lay on its side +and not far away was the huddled body of its rider. + +As they neared each other the outlaw noticed something peculiar about +the sheriff's ear, and his look of inquiry was rewarded. "Stung," +remarked Shields, grinning apologetically. "Just as I shot," he added in +explanation of the Apache's escape. "Wonder what my wife'll say?" he +mused, nursing the swelling. + +The Orphan's eyes opened a trifle at the sheriff's last words, and he +thought of the war party he had sent north. His decision was immediate: +no married man had any business to run risks, and he was glad that he +refrained from shooting on sight. + +"Sheriff, you vamoose. Clear out now, while you have the chance. Ride west +for an hour, and then strike north for Ford's Station. That buck that got +away is due to run into twenty-seven of his friends and relatives that I +sent north to meet you. And they won't waste any time in getting back, +neither." + +Shields felt of his ear and laughed softly. He had a sudden, strong liking +for his humorous, clever enemy, for he recognized qualities which he had +always held in high esteem. While he had waited in the chaparral for the +Apaches to break cover he had wondered if the Indians which The Orphan +had sent north had been sent for the purpose of meeting him, and now +he had the answer. Instead of embittering him against his companion, it +increased his respect for that individual's strategy, and he felt only +admiration. + +"I saw your reception committee in time to duck," the sheriff said, +laughing. "If they kept on going as they were when I saw them they must +have crossed my trail about three hours later. When they hit that it +is a safe bet that at least some of them took it up. So if it's all the +same to you, I'll leave both the north and the west alone and take another +route home. I have shot up all the war-whoops I care about, so I am +well satisfied." + +He suddenly reached down toward his belt, and then looked squarely into +The Orphan's gun, which rested easily on that person's hip. His hand +kept on, however, but more slowly and with but two fingers extended, +and disappeared into his chap's pocket, from which it slowly and gingerly +brought forth a package of tobacco and some rice paper. The Orphan looked +embarrassed for a second and then laughed softly. + +"You're a square man, Sheriff, but I wasn't sure," he said in apology. +"So long." + +"That's all right," cried the sheriff heartily. "I was a big fool to make +a play like that!" + +The Orphan smiled and turned squarely around and walked away in the +direction of his horse. Shields stared at his back and then rolled a +cigarette and grinned: "By George!" he ejaculated at the confidence +displayed by his companion, and he slowly followed. + +After they had mounted in silence the sheriff suddenly turned and looked +his companion squarely in the eyes and received a steady, frank look in +return. + +"What the devil made you ventilate them sheep herders that way?" he asked. +"And go and drive all of them sheep over the bank?" + +The Orphan frowned momentarily, but answered without reserve. + +"Those sheep herders reckoned they'd get a reputation!" he answered. "And +they would have gotten it, too, only I beat them on the draw. As for the +idiotic muttons, they went plumb loco at the shooting and pushed each +other over the bank. To hell with the herders--they only got what they was +trying to hand me. But I'm a whole lot sorry about the sheep, although I +can't say I'm dead stuck on range-killers of any kind." + +The sheriff reflectively eyed his companion's gun and remembered its +celerity into getting into action, which persuaded him that The Orphan +was telling the truth, and swept aside the last chance for fair warfare +between the two for the day. + +"Yes, it is too bad, all them innocent sheep drowned that way," he slowly +replied. "But they are shore awful skittish at times. Well, do we part?" +he asked, suddenly holding out his hand. + +"I reckon we do, Sheriff, and I'm blamed glad to have met you," replied +the outlaw as he shook hands with no uncertain grip. "Keep away from them +Apaches, and so long." + +"Thanks, I will," responded the arm of the law. "And I'm glad to have met +you, too. So long!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE SECOND OFFENSE + + +Bill Howland emerged from the six-by-six office of the F. S. and S. Stage +Company and strolled down the street to where his Concord stood. He +hitched up and, after examining the harness, gained his seat, gathered up +the lines and yelled. There was a lurch and a rumble, and Bill turned +the corner on two wheels to the gratification of sundry stray dogs, +whose gratification turned to yelps of surprise and pain as the driver +neatly flecked bits of hair from their bodies with his sixteen foot +"blacksnake." Twice each week Bill drove his Concord around the same +corner on the same two wheels and flecked bits of hair from stray dogs +with the same whip. He would have been deeply grieved if the supply of new +stray dogs gave out, for no dogs were ever known to get close enough +to be skinned the second time; once was enough, and those which had felt +the sting of Bill's leather were content to stand across the street and +create the necessary excitement to urge the new arrivals forward. The +local wit is reported as saying: "Dogs may come and dogs may go, but Bill +goes on forever," which saying pleased Bill greatly. + +As he threw the mail bag on the seat the sheriff came up and watched him, +his eyes a-twinkle with humor. + +"Well, Sheriff, how's the boy?" genially asked Bill, who could talk all +day on anything and two days on nothing without fatigue. + +"All right, Bill, thank you," the sheriff replied. "I hope you are able +to take something more than liquid nourishment," he added. + +"Oh, you trust me for that, Sheriff. When my appetite gives out I'll be +ready to plant. I see your ear is some smaller. Blamed funny how they do +swell sometimes," remarked the driver, loosening his collar. + +The sheriff knew what that action meant and hurried to break the thread +of the conversation. + +"New wheel?" he asked, eying what he knew to be old. + +"Nope, painted, that's all," the driver replied, grinning. "But she +shore does look new, don't she? You see, Dick put in two new spokes +yesterday, and when I saw 'em I says, says I, 'Dick, that new wheel don't +look good thataway,' says I. 'It'll look like a limp, them new spokes +coming 'round all alone like,' says I. So we paints it, but we didn't +have time to paint the others, but they won't make much difference, +anyhow. Funny how a little paint will change things, now ain't it? Why, I +can remember when-----" + +"Much mail nowadays?" interposed the sheriff calmly. + +"Nope. Folks out here ain't a-helpin' Uncle Sam much. Postmaster says he +only sold ten stamps this week. What he wants, as I told him, is women. +Then everybody'll be sendin' letters and presents and things. Now, I knows +what I'm talking about, because-----" + +"The Apaches are out," jabbed the sheriff, hopefully. + +"Yes, I heard that you had a soiree with them. But they won't get so +far north as this. No, siree, they won't. They knows too much, Apaches +do. Ain't they smart cusses, though? Now, there's old Geronimo--been +raising the devil for years. The cavalry goes out for him regular, and +shore thinks he's caught, but he ain't. When he's found he's home smoking +his pipe and counting his wives, which are shore numerous, they say. Now, +I've got a bully scheme for getting him, Sheriff----" + +"Hey, you," came from the office. "Do you reckon that train is going to +tie up and wait for you, hey? Do you think you are so d----d important +that they won't pull out unless you're on hand? Why in h--l don't you quit +chinning and get started?" + +"Oh, you choke up!" cried Bill, clambering up to his seat. "Who's running +this, anyhow!" he grumbled under his breath. Then he took up the reins +and carefully sorted them, after which he looked down at Shields, whose +face wore a smile of amusement. + +"Bill Howland ain't none a-scared because a lot of calamity howlers get a +hunch. Not on your life! I've reached the high C of rollicking progress +too many times to be airy scairt at rumors. Show me the feather-dusters +in war paint, and then I'll take some stock in raids. You get up a bet +on me Sheriff, make a little easy money. Back Bill Howland to be right +here in seventy-two hours, right side up and smiling, and you'll win. You +just bet you'll----" + +"Well, you won't get here in a year unless you starts, you pest! For +God's sake get a-going and give the sheriff a rest!" came explosively +from the office, accompanied by a sound as if a chair had dropped to its +four legs. A tall, angular man stood in the doorway and shook his fist at +the huge cloud of dust which rolled down the street, muttering savagely. +Bill Howland had started on his eighty-mile trip to Sagetown. + +"Damnedest talker on two laigs," asserted the clerk. "He'll drive me loco +some day with his eternal jabber, jabber. Why do you waste time with +him? Tell him to close his yap and go to h--l. Beat him over the head, +anything to shut him up!" + +Shields smiled: "Oh, he can't help it. He don't do anybody any harm." + +The clerk shook his head in doubt and started to return to his chair, and +then stopped. + +"I hear you expect some women out purty soon," he suggested. + +"Yes. Sisters and a friend," Shields replied shortly. + +"Ain't you a little leary about letting 'em come out here while the +Apaches are out?" + +"Not very much--I'll be on hand when they arrive," the sheriff assured him. + +"How soon are they due to land?" + +"Next trip if nothing hinders them." + +"Jim Hawes is comin' out next trip," volunteered the clerk. + +"Good," responded the sheriff, turning to go. "Every gun counts, and Jim +is a good man." + +"Say," the agent was lonesome, "I heard down at the Oasis last night that +The Orphant was seen out near the Cross Bar-8 yesterday. He ought to get +shot, d----n him! But that's a purty big contract, I reckon. They say he +can shoot like the very devil." + +"They're right, he can," Shields replied. "Everybody knows that." + +"Charley seems to be in a hurry," remarked the agent, looking down the +street at a cowboy, a friend of the sheriff, who was coming at a dead +gallop. The sheriff looked and Charley waved his arm. As he came within +hailing distance he shouted: + +"The Orphan killed Jimmy Ford this morning on Twenty Mile Trail! His +pardner got away by shootin' The Orphan's horse and taking to the trail +through Little Arroyo. But he's shot, just the same, 'though not bad. The +rest of the Cross Bar-8 outfit are going out for him; they've been out, +but they can't follow his trail." + +"Hell!" cried the sheriff, running toward his corral. "Wait!" he shouted +over his shoulder as he turned the corner. In less than five minutes he +was back again, and on his best horse, and following the impatient cowboy, +swung down the street at a gallop in the direction of Twenty Mile Trail. + +As they left the town behind and swung through the arroyo leading to the +Limping Water, through which the stage route lay, Charley began to speak +again: + +"Jimmy and Pete Carson were taking a rest in the shade of the chaparral +and playin' old sledge, when they looked up and saw The Orphan looking +down at them. They're rather easy-going, and so they asked him to take a +hand. He said he would, and got off his cayuse and sat down with them. +Jimmy started a new deal, but The Orphan objected to old sledge and +wanted poker, at the same time throwing a bag of dust down in front of +him. Jimmy looked at Pete, who nodded, and put his wealth in front of +him. Well, they played along for a while, and The Orphan began to have +great luck. When he had won five straight jack pots it was more than +Jimmy could stand, him being young and hasty. He saw his new Cheyenne +saddle, what he was going to buy, getting further away all the time, and +he yelled 'Cheat!' grabbing for his gun, what was plumb crazy for him to +do. + +"The Orphan fired from his hip quick as a wink, and Jimmy fell back just +as Pete drew. The Orphan swung on him and ordered him to drop his gun, +which same Pete did, being sick at the stomach at Jimmy's passing. Then +The Orphan told him to take his dirty money and his cheap life and go back +to his mamma. Pete didn't stop none to argue, but mounted and rode away. +But the fool wasn't satisfied at having a whole skin after a run-in +with The Orphan, and when he got off about four hundred yards and right +on the edge of Little Arroyo, where he could get cover in one jump, +he up and let drive, killing The Orphan's horse. Pete got two holes in +his shoulder before he could get out of sight, and he remembered that +his shot had hardly left his gun before he had 'em, too. Pete says he +wonders how in h--l The Orphan could shoot twice so quick, when his +gun's a Sharp's single shot." + +Shields was pleased with the knowledge that it was not a plain murder +this time, and fell to wondering if the other killings in which The +Orphan had figured had not in a measure been justified. Hearsay cried +"Murderer," but his own personal experience denied the term. Did not +The Orphan know that Shields was after him, and that the sheriff was no +man to be taken lightly when he had shown mercy near the big bowlder? The +outlaw must be fair and square, reasoned the sheriff, else he would not +have looked for those qualities in another, and least of all in an +enemy. The outlaw had given him plenty of chances to kill and had thought +nothing of it, time and time again turning his back without hesitation. +True, The Orphan had covered him when his hand had streaked for his +tobacco; but the sheriff would have done the same, because the movement +was decidedly hostile, and he had been fortunate in not having paid +dearly for his rash action. The Orphan had taken a chance when he +refrained from pulling the trigger. + +Charley continued: "Jimmy's outfit swear they'll have a lynchin' bee to +square things for the Kid. They are plumb crazy about it. Jimmy was a +whole lot liked by them, and the foreman is going to give them a week +off with no questions asked. They are getting things ready now." + +The sheriff turned to his companion, his hazel eyes aflame with anger +at this threat of lynching when he had given plain warning that such +lawlessness would not for one minute be tolerated by him. + +"We'll call on the Cross Bar-8 first, Charley, and find out when this +lynching bee is due to come off," he said, turning toward the northwest. +Charley looked surprised at the sudden change in the plans, but followed +without comment, secretly glad that trouble was in store for the ranch he +had no use for. + +After an hour of fast riding they rode up to the corral of the Cross +Bar-8, and Shields, seeing a cowboy busily engaged in cleaning a rifle, +asked for Sneed, at the same time making a mental note of the preparations +which were going on about him. + +The foreman, as if in answer to the sheriff's words, walked into sight +around the corral wall and stepped forward eagerly when he saw who the +caller was. + +"I see that you know all about it, Sheriff," he began, hastily. "I've +just told the boys that they can go out for him," he continued. "They're +getting ready now, and will soon be on his trail." + +"Yes?" coldly inquired the sheriff. + +"They'll get him if you don't," assured the foreman, who had about as much +tact as a mule. + +"I'll shoot the first man who tries it," the sheriff said, as he flecked +a bit of dust from his arm. + +"What!" cried Sneed in astonishment. "By God, Sheriff, that's a d----d +hard assertion to make!" + +"And I hold _you_ responsible," continued the sheriff, leaning forward +as if to give weight to his words. + +The cowboy stopped cleaning his rifle and stood up, covering the sheriff, +a sneer on his face and anger in his eyes. + +"If you're a-scared, we ain't, by God!" he cried. "The Orphan has got +away too many times already, and here is where he gets stopped for good! +When we gets through with him he won't shoot no more friends of ourn, +nor nobody else's!" + +Shields looked him squarely in the eyes: "If you don't drop that gun I'll +drop you, Bucknell," he said pleasantly, and his eyes proclaimed that he +meant what he said. + +Sneed sprang forward and knocked the gun aside; "You d----n fool!" he +cried. "You ornery, silly fool! Get back to the bunk house or I'll make +you wish you had never seen that gun! Go on, get the h--l out of here +before you join Jimmy!" + +Then the foreman turned to Shields, feeling that he had lost much through +the rashness of his man. + +"Don't pay any attention to that crazy yearling, Sheriff," he said +earnestly. "He's only feeling his oats. But we only wanted to round him +up," he continued on the main topic. "We meant to turn him over to you +after we'd got him. He's a blasted, thieving, murdering dog, that's what +he is, and he oughtn't get away this time!" + +"You keep out of this, and keep your men out of it, too," responded +Shields, turning away. "I mean what I say. Jimmy started the mess and +got the worst of it. I'll get The Orphan, or nobody will. As long as I'm +sheriff of this county I'll take care of my job without any lynching +parties. Come on, Charley." + +"Deputize some of my boys, Sheriff!" he begged. "Let 'em think they're +doing something. The Orphan is a bad man to go after alone. The boys are +so mad that they'll get him if they have to ride through hell after him. +Swear them in and let them get him lawfully." + +"Yes?" retorted Shields cynically. "And have to shoot them to keep them +from shooting him?" + +"By God, Sheriff," cried Sneed, losing control of his temper, "this is +our fight, and we're going to see it through! We'll get that cur, sheriff +or no sheriff, and when we do, he'll stretch rope! And anybody who tries +to stop us will get hurt! I ain't making any threats, Sheriff; only +telling plain facts, that's all." + +"Then I'll be a wreck," responded Shields, still smiling. "For I'll stop +it, even if I have to shoot you first, which are also plain facts." + +Sneed's men had been coming up while they talked and were freely voicing +their opinions of sheriffs. Sneed stepped close to the peace officer and +laughed, his face flushed with foolish elation at his strength. + +"Do you see 'em?" he asked, ironically, indicating his men by a sweep of +his arm. "Do you think you could shoot me?" + +The reply was instantaneous. The last word had hardly left his lips before +he peered blankly into the cold, unreasoning muzzle of a Colt, and the +sheriff's voice softly laughed up above him. The cowboys stood as if +turned to stone, not daring to risk their foreman's life by a move, for +they did not understand the sheriff's methods of arguments, never having +become thoroughly acquainted with him. + +"You know me better now, Sneed," Shields remarked quietly as he slipped +his Colt into its holster. "I'm running the law end of the game and I'll +keep right on running it as I d----d please while I'm called sheriff, +understand?" + +Sneed was a brave man, and he thoroughly appreciated the clean-cut +courage which had directed the sheriff's act, and he knew, then, that +Shields would keep his word. He involuntarily stepped back and intently +regarded the face above him, seeing a not unpleasant countenance, although +it was tanned by the suns and beaten by the weather of fifty years. The +hazel eyes twinkled and the thin lips twitched in that quiet humor for +which the man was famed; yet underlying the humor was stern, unyielding +determination. + +"You're shore nervy, Sheriff," at length remarked the foreman. "The boys +are loco, but I'll try to hold them." + +"You'll hold them, or bury them," responded the sheriff, and turning to +his companion he said: "Now I'm with you, Charley. So long, Sneed," he +pleasantly called over his shoulder as if there had been no unpleasant +disagreement. + +"So long, Sheriff," replied the foreman, looking after the departing pair +and hardly free from his astonishment. Then he turned to his men: "You +heard what he said, and you saw what he did. You keep out of this, or +I'll make you d----d sorry, if he don't. If The Orphan comes your way, +all right and good. But you let his trail religiously alone, do you hear?" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +BILL JUSTIFIES HIS CREATION + + +Bill Howland careened along the stage route, rapidly leaving Ford's +Station in his rear. He rolled through the arroyo on alternate pairs of +wheels, splashed through the Limping Water, leaving it roiled and +muddy, and shot up the opposite bank with a rush. Before him was a +stretch of a dozen miles, level as a billiard table, and then the +route traversed a country rocky and uneven and wound through cuts and +defiles and around rocky buttes of strange formation. This continued +for ten miles, and the last defile cut through a ridge of rock, called +the Backbone, which ranged in height from twenty to forty feet, smooth, +unbroken and perpendicular on its eastern face. This ridge wound and +twisted from the big chaparral twenty miles below the defile to a branch +of the Limping Water, fifteen miles above. And in all the thirty-five +miles there was but a single opening, the one used by Bill and the stage. + +In crossing the level plain Bill could see for miles to either side of +him, but when once in the rough country his view was restricted to yards, +and more often to feet. It was here that he expected trouble if at all, +and he usually went through it with a speed which was reckless, to say +the least. + +He had just dismissed the possibility of meeting with Apaches as he +turned into the last long defile, which he was pleased to call a cañon. As +he made the first turn he nearly fell from his seat in astonishment at +what he saw. Squarely in the center of the trail ahead of him was a +horseman, who rode the horse which had formerly belonged to Jimmy of +the Cross Bar-8, and across the cut lay a heavy piece of timber, one +of the dead trees which were found occasionally at that altitude, and +it effectively barred the passing of the stage. The horseman wore his +sombrero far back on his head and a rifle lay across his saddle, while +two repeating Winchesters were slung on either side of his horse. One +startled look revealed the worst to the driver--The Orphan, the terrible +Orphan faced him! + +"Don't choke--I'm not going to eat you," assured the horseman with a +smile. "But I'm going to smoke half of your tobacco--and you can bring me +a half pound when you come back from Sagetown. Just throw it up yonder," +pointing to a rocky ledge, "and keep going right ahead." + +Bill looked very much relieved, and hastily fumbled in his hip pocket, +which was a most suicidal thing to do in a hurry; but The Orphan didn't +even move at the play, having judged the man before him and having faith +in his judgment. The hand came out again with a pouch of tobacco, which +its owner flung to the outlaw. After putting half of it in his own pouch +and enclosing a coin to pay for his half pound, The Orphan tossed it +back again and then moved the tree trunk until it fell to the road, when +he dismounted and rolled it aside. + +"You forget right now that you have seen me or you'll have heart disease +some day in this place," warned the horseman, moving aside. Bill swore +earnestly that at times his memory was too short to even remember his own +name, and he enthusiastically lashed his cayuse sextet. As he swung out +on the plain again he glanced furtively over his shoulder and breathed a +deep breath of relief when he found that the outlaw was not in sight. +He then tied a knot in his handkerchief so as to be sure to remember to +get a half-pound package of tobacco. A new responsibility, and one which +he had never borne before, weighed upon him. He must keep silent--and what +a rich subject for endless conversations! Talking material which would +last him for years must be sealed tightly within his memory on penalty +of death if he failed to keep it secret. + +After an uneventful trip across the open plain, which passed so rapidly +because of his intent thoughts that he hardly realized it, he ripped +into Sagetown with a burst of speed and flung the mail bag at the station +agent, after which he hastened to float the dust down his throat. + +When he met his Sagetown friends he had fairly to choke down his secret, +and his aching desire to create a sensation pained and worried him. + +"You made her faster than usual, Bill," remarked the bartender casually. +"Yore half-an-hour ahead of time," he added in a congratulatory tone as +he placed a bottle and glass before the new arrival. + +"Yes, and I had to stop, too," Bill replied, and then hastily gulped down +his liquor to save himself. + +"That so?" asked old Pop Westley, an habitué of the saloon. Pop Westley +had fought through the Civil War and never forgot to tell of his +experiences, which must have been unusually numerous, even for four years +of hard campaigning, if one may judge from the fact that he never had to +repeat, and yet used them as his _coup d'état_ in many conversational +bouts. "What was it, Injuns?" he asked, winking at the bartender as if +in prophecy as to what the driver would choose for his next lie. + +"Oh, no," replied Bill, groping for an idea to get him out of trouble. +"Nope, just had to lose twenty minutes rollin' rocks out of the +cañon--they must have been a little landslide since I went through her +the last time. Some of 'em was purty big, too." + +"I thought you might a had to kill some Injuns, like you did when they +broke out four years ago," responded the bartender gravely. "Tell us about +that time you licked them dozen mad Apache warriors, Bill," he requested. +"That was a blamed good scrap from what I can remember." + +"Oh, I've told you about that scrap so much I'm ashamed to tell it again," +replied the driver, wishing that he could remember just what he had said +about it, and sorry that his memory was so inferior to his imagination. + +"Bet you get scalped goin' back," pleasantly remarked Johnny Sands, who +had not fought in the Civil War, but who often ferociously wished he had +when old Pop Westley was telling of how Mead took Vicksburg, or some other +such bit of history. Pop must have been connected to a flying regiment, +for he had fought under every general on the Union side. + +"You're on for the drinks, Johnny," answered Bill promptly, feeling that +it would be a double joy to win. "The war-whoops never lived who could +scalp Bill Howland, and don't forget it, neither," he boastfully averred +as he made for the door, very anxious to get away from that awful gnawing +temptation to open their eyes wide about his recent experience. + +"Then The Orphan will get you, shore," came from Pop Westley. Bill jumped +and slammed the door so hard that it shook the building. + +He saw that his sextet was being properly fed and watered for the return +trip, which would not take place until the next day. But a trifle like +twenty-four hours had no effect on Bill under his present stress of +excitement, and he fooled about the coach as if it was his dearest +possession, inspecting the king-bolt, running-gear and whiffletrees with +anxious eyes. He wanted no break-down, because the Apaches _might_ be +farther north than was their custom. That done he took his rifle apart +and thoroughly cleaned and oiled it, seeing that the magazine was full +to the end. Then he had his supper and went straight therefrom to bed, +not daring to again meet his friends for fear of breaking his promise +to The Orphan. + +At dawn he drew up beside the small station and waited for the arrival of +the train, which even then was a speck at the meeting place of the rails +on the horizon. + +The station agent sauntered over to him and grinned. + +"I guess I will get that telegraph line after all, Bill," he remarked +happily. "I heard that the division superintendent wanted to get word +to me in a hurry the other day, and raised the devil when he couldn't. +I've been fighting for a wire to civilization for three years, and now I +reckon she'll come." + +"I always said you ought to have a telegraph line out here," Bill replied. +"Suppose that train should run off the track some day, what would they +do, hey?" + +"Huh, that train never goes fast enough to run off of anything," retorted +the station agent. "She'd stop dead if she hit a coyote--by gosh! Here +she comes now! What do you think of that, eh? Half-an-hour ahead of time, +too! Must be trying to hit up a better average than she's had for the +last year. She's usually due three hours late," he added in bewilderment. +"She owes the world about a month--must have left the day before by +mistake." + +"Johnny Sands says he raced her once for ten miles, and beat it a mile," +replied Bill, crossing his legs and yawning. Then he began one of his +endless talks, and the agent hastily departed and left him to himself. + +When the train finally stopped at its destination, after running past +the station and having to back to the platform, three women alighted and +looked around. Seeing the stage, they ordered their baggage transferred to +it and gave Bill a shock by their appearance. + +"Is this the stage which runs to Ford's Station?" the eldest asked of Bill. + +Bill fumbled at his sombrero and tore it from his head as he replied. + +"Yes, sir, er--ma'am!" he said, confusedly. "Are you Sheriff's sister, +ma'am?" + +"Yes," she answered. "Why do you ask? Has anything happened to him in this +awful country?" she asked in alarm. + +"No, ma'am, not yet," responded Bill in confusion. "He just didn't expect +you 'til the next train, ma'am, that's all. He was going to meet you then." + +"Now, _isn't_ that just like a man?" she asked her companions. "I +distinctly remember that I wrote him I would come on the twenty-fourth. +How stupid of him!" + +"Yes, ma'am, you did," interposed Bill, eagerly. "But this is only the +twenty-first, ma'am." + +She refused to notice the correction and waved her hand toward the coach. + +"Get in, dears," she said. "I _do_ so hope it isn't dirty and +uncomfortable, and we have so far to go in it, too. Thirty miles--think +of it!" + +Bill thought of it, but refrained from offering correction. If Shields +had said it was thirty miles when he knew it was eighty that was Shields' +affair, and he didn't care to have any unpleasantness. He had offered +correction about the date, and that was enough for him. Clambering down +heavily he opened the side door of the vehicle and then helped the +station agent put the trunks and valises and hat boxes on the hanging +shelf behind the coach and saw that they were lashed securely into +place. Then he threw the mail bag upon his seat, climbed after it and +started on his journey with a whoop and rush, for this trip was to be a +record-breaker. Shields had said it was thirty miles, and it behove +the driver to make it seem as short as possible. + +The unexpected arrival of the women had driven everything else from +his mind, even The Orphan, and after he had covered a mile he had a +strong desire to smoke. Giving his whip a jerk he threw it along the top +of the coach and slipped the handle under his arm. Then he felt for +his pouch, and as his fingers closed upon it he suddenly stiffened and +gasped. He had forgotten The Orphan's half pound! Swearing earnestly +and badly frightened at the close call he had from incurring the anger of +a man like the outlaw, he pulled on the reins with a suddenness which +caused the sextet to lay back their ears and indulge in a few heartfelt +kicks. But the darting whip kept peace and he swung around and returned +to town. + +As he drove past the station Mary Shields, the sheriff's elder sister, +poked her head out of the door and called to him. + +"Driver!" she exclaimed. "Driver!" + +Bill craned his neck and looked down. + +"Yes, ma'am," he replied anxiously. + +"Are we there already?" she asked. + +"Why, no, ma'am, it's ei--thirty miles yet," he responded as he sprang +to the ground. + +"Then where are we, for goodness' sake?" + +"Back in Sagetown, ma'am," he hurriedly replied. "I shore forgot +something," he added in explanation of the return as he ran toward +the saloon. + +She turned to her companions with a gesture of despair: + +"Isn't it awful," she asked, "what a terrible thing drinking is? A most +detestable habit! Here we are back to where we started from and just +because our driver must have a drink of nasty liquor! Why, we would have +been there by this time. I will most assuredly speak to James about this!" + +"Well, I suppose we may go on now!" she exclaimed as Bill bolted into +sight again, holding a package firmly in his two hands. "I suppose he +feels quite capable of driving now." + +Bill, blissfully ignorant of the remarks he had called forth, tossed +the tobacco upon the mail bag and climbed to his seat again. The long +whip hissed and cracked as he bellowed to the team, and once more they +started for Ford's Station. + +The passengers had all they could do to keep their seats because of the +gymnastics of the erratic stage. Bill, who had always found delight in +seeing how near he could come to missing things and who was elated at +the joy of getting over the worst parts of the trail with speed, decided +that this was a rare and most auspicious occasion to show just what he +could do in the way of fancy driving. The return to town had spoiled +his chances for a record, but he still could do some high-class work +with the reins. The weight of the baggage on the tail-board bothered +him until he discovered that it acted as a tail to his Concord kite, +and when he learned that he joyously essayed feats which he had long +dreamed of doing. The result was fully appreciated by the terrified +passengers who, choking with the dust which forced its way in to them, +could only hold fast to whatever came to their grasp and pray that they +would survive. + +As he passed a peculiarly formed clump of organ cacti, which he regarded +as being his half-way mark, he happened to glance behind, and his face +blanched in a sudden fear which gripped his heart in an icy grasp. + +He leaped to his feet, wrapping the reins about his wrists, and the +"blacksnake" coiled and writhed and hissed. Its reports sounded like +those of a gun, and every time it straightened out a horse lost a bit of +hair and skin. Both of the leaders had limp and torn ears, and a sudden +terror surged through the team, causing their eyes to dilate and grow +red. The driver's voice, strong and full, rang out in blood-curdling +whoops, which ended in the wailing howl of a coyote, wonderfully well +imitated. The combination of voice and whip was too much, and the six +horses, maddened by the terrible sting of the lash and the frightful, +haunting howl, became frenzied and bolted. + +Braced firmly on the footboard, poised carefully and with just the right +tension on the reins, the driver scanned the trail before him, avoiding +as best he could the rocks and deep ruts, and watching alertly for a +stumble. His sombrero had deserted him and his long brown hair snapped +behind him in the wind. Bill was frightened, but not for himself alone. +With all his bravado he was built of good timber, and his one thought was +for the women under his care. He unconsciously prayed that they might not +be brought face to face with the realization of what menaced them; that +they would not learn why the coach lurched so terribly; that the trunk +which obstructed the back window of the coach would not shift and give +them a sight of the danger. Oh, that the running gear held! That the +king-bolt, new, thank God, proved the words of the boasting blacksmith +to be true! He soon came to the beginning of a three-hundred-yard stretch +of perfect road and he hazarded a quick backward glance. Instantly his +eyes were to the front again, but his brain retained the picture he had +seen, retained it perfectly and in wonderful clearness. He saw that the +Apaches were no longer a mile away, but that they had gained upon him +a very little, so very little that only an eye accustomed to gauging +changing distances could have noticed the difference. And he also saw +that the group was no longer compact, but that it was already spreading +out into the dreaded, deadly crescent, a crescent with the best horses at +the horns, which would endeavor to sweep forward and past the coach, +drawing closer together until the circle was complete, with the stage +as the center. + +Another yell burst from him, and again and again the whip writhed and +hissed and cracked, and a new burst of speed was the reward. Well it +was that the horses were the best and most enduring to be found on the +range. He was dependent on his team, he and his passengers. He could not +hope to take up his rifle until the last desperate stand. Oh, if he only +had the sheriff, the cool, laughing, accurate sheriff with him to lie +against the seat and shoot for his sisters! Already the bullets were +dropping behind him, but he did not know of it. They dropped, as yet, +many yards too short, and he could not hear the flat reports. The wind +which roared and whistled past his ears spared him that. + +A stumble! But up again and without injury, for a master hand held the +reins, a hand as cunning as the eyes were calculating. Could Bill's +scoffing friends see him now their scoffing would freeze on lips open in +admiring astonishment. If he attained nothing more in his life he was +justifying his creation. He was doing his best, and doing it wonderfully +well. Long since had fear left him. He was now only a superb driver, +an alert, quick-thinking master of his chosen trade. He thrilled with +a peculiar elation, for was he not playing his hand against death? A +lone hand and with no hope of a lucky draw. All he could hope for was that +he be not unlucky and lose the game because of the weakness of a wheel, +or the traces, or that new king-bolt; that the splendid, ugly, terrorized +units of his sextet would last until he had gained the cañon, where +the stage would nearly block the narrow opening, and where he could +exchange reins for rifle! + +Within the coach three women were miserably huddled in a mass on the +floor. Two would be more proper, because the third, a slim girl of +nineteen, was temporarily out of her misery, having fainted, which was a +boon denied to her companions. Thrown from side to side as if they were +straws in weight, they first crashed into one wall and then into the +other, buffeted from the edge of the front seat to that of the rear one. +Bruised and bleeding and terrified, they dumbly prayed for deliverance +from the madman up above them. + +The driver's eye caught sight of the turn, which lay ten miles northeast +of the cañon--then he had passed it. + +"Only ten miles more, bronchs!" he shouted, imploringly, beseechingly. +"Hold it, boys! Hold it, pets! Only ten miles more!" he repeated until +the left-hand leader lurched forward and lost its footing. Another bit +of masterly manipulation of the reins saved it from going down, and again +the coyote yell rang out in all of its acute, quavering, hair-raising +mournfulness. The blacksnake again and again mercilessly leaped and +struck, and another wonderful burst of speed rewarded him. + +His heart suddenly went out to his horses, as he realized what speed they +were making and had been holding for so long a time, and he swore to treat +them better than they had ever known if they pulled him safely to the +mouth of the cañon. + +A second backward glance, forced from him because of the awful uncertainty +at his back, because if it was the last thing he ever did he must look +behind him as a child looks back into the awful darkness of the room, +caused his face to be convulsed with smiles, sudden and sincere. He +shouted madly in his joy at what he saw, dancing up and down regardless +of his perilous footing, bending his knees with a recklessness almost +criminal, as he uncoiled the hissing blacksnake high up in the air. +Again and again the whistling, hissing length of braided rawhide curled +and straightened and cracked, faster and faster until the reports +almost merged. He tossed his head and laughed wildly, hysterically, +and danced as only a man can dance when eased of a terrible nervous +tension; the rasping of the icy, grasping fingers of Death along his +back suddenly ceased, and there came to him assurance of life and +vengeance. Turning again he hurled the writhing length of his whip at +the yelling Apaches, snapping the rifle-like reports at their faces, +cursing them in shouted words; hot, joyous, cynical, taunting words +fresh from the soul of him, throbbing with his hatred; venomous, +contemptuous, scathing, too heartfelt to be over-profane. + +"Come _on_, d----n you! Your slide to h--l is greased _now!_ Come on, +you wolves! You cheap, blind vultures! Come on! _Come on!!_" he yelled, +well nigh out of his senses from the reaction. "Yes, yell! Yell, d----n +you!" he shouted as they replied to his taunts. "Yell! Shoot your tin guns +while you can, for you'll soon be so full of lead you'll stop forever! +_Come on!_ COME ON!" + +They came. All their energies were bent toward the grotesque figure that +reviled them. They could not catch his words, but their eyes flashed at +what they could see. Dust arose in huge, low clouds behind them, and they +gained rapidly for a time, but only for a time, for their mounts had +covered many miles in the last few days and were jaded and without their +usual strength because of insufficient food. But they gained enough to +drop their shots on the coach, although accurate shooting at the pace they +were keeping was beyond their skill. + +Puffs of dust spurted from the plain in front of the team and arose +beside it, and a jagged splinter of seasoned ash whizzed past the driver's +ear. A long, gray furrow suddenly appeared in the end of the seat and +holes began to show in the woodwork of the stage. One bullet, closer than +the others, almost tore the reins from the driver's hands as it hit the +loose end of leather which flapped in the air. Its jerk caused him to +turn again and renew his verbal cautery, tears in his eyes from the +fervor of his madness. + +"Hi-yi! Whoop-e-e!" he shouted at his straining, steaming sextet. "Keep it +up, bronchs! Hold her for ten minutes more, boys! We'll win! We'll win! +We'll laugh them into h--l yet! We'll dance on their painted faces! Keep +her steady! You're all right, every d----d one of you! Hold her steady! +Whoop-e-e!" + +A new factor had drawn cards, and the new factor could play his cards +better than any two men under that washed-out, faded blue sky. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE ORPHAN OBEYS AN IMPULSE + + +When Sneed promised to try to restrain his men he spoke in good faith, +and when he discovered that half of them were missing his anger began to +rise. But he was helpless now because they were beyond his reach, so he +could only hope that they would not meet the sheriff, not only because +of the displeasure of the peace officer, but also because good cowboys +were hard to obtain, and he knew what such a meeting might easily develop +into. + +The foreman knew that Ford's Station bore him and his ranch no love and +that if the sheriff should meet with armed resistance and, possibly, +mishap at the hands of any members of the Cross Bar-8, that trouble would +be the tune for him and his men to dance to. Angrily striding to and +fro in front of the bunk house he gave a profane and pointed lecture +to several of his men who stood near, abashed at their foreman's anger. He +suddenly stopped and looked toward the rocky stretch of land and hurled +epithets at what he feared might be taking place in its defiles and among +its rocks and bowlders. + +"Fools!" he shouted, shaking his fist at the Backbone. "Fools, to hunt +a man like that on his own ground, and in the way you'll do it! You can't +keep together for long, and as sure as you separate, some of you will be +missing to-night!" + +Had he been able, he would have seen six cowboys, who were keeping close +together as they worked their way southward, exploring every arroyo and +examining every thicket and bowlder. Their Colts were in their hands and +their nerves were tensed to the snapping point. + +They finally came to the stage road and, after a brief consultation, +plunged into it and scrambled up the opposite bank, where they left one of +their number on guard while they continued on their search. The guard +found concealment behind a huge bowlder which stood on the edge of the +cañon above the entrance. He lighted a cigarette, and the thin wisps of +pale blue smoke slowly made their way above him, twisting and turning, +halting for an instant, and then speeding upward as straight as a rod. +It was strong tobacco and very aromatic, and when the wind caught it up in +filmy clouds and carried it away it could be detected for many feet. + +Five minutes had passed since the searchers had become lost to sight +to the south when something moved on the other side of the cañon and +then became instantly quiet as the smoke streamed up. The guard was +cleverly hidden from sight, but he felt that he must smoke, for time +passed slowly for him. Again something moved, this time behind a thin +clump of mesquite. Gradually it took on the outlines of a man, and he was +intently watching the tell-tale vapor, the odor of which had warned him +in time. + +Retreating, he was soon lost to sight, and a few minutes later he peered +through a thin thicket which stood on the edge of the cañon wall. As +he did so the guard stuck his head out from the shelter of his bowlder +and glanced along the trail. Again seeking his cover he finished his +cigarette and lighted another. + +"He won't look again for a few minutes, the fool," muttered the other +as he dropped into the road and darted across it. After a bit of cautious +climbing he gained the top of the cañon wall and again became lost to +sight. + +Still the smoke ascended fitfully from behind the bowlder, and the +prowler gradually drew near it, at last gaining the side opposite the +smoker. He crouched and slowly crawled around it, his left hand holding +a Colt; his right, a lariat. As the guard again turned to examine the +lower end of the cañon his eyes looked into a steady gun, and while +his wits were rallying to his aid the rope leaped at him and neatly +dropped over his shoulders, pinning his arms to his side. It twitched and +a loop formed in it, running swiftly and almost horizontally. It whipped +over his head and tightened about his throat, while another loop sped +after it and assisted in throttling the puncher. Then the lariat twitched +and whirled and loops ran along it and fastened over the guard's wrists, +rapidly getting shorter; and when it ceased, its wielder was brought to +the side of his trussed victim. The bound man was turning purple in +the face and neck and his captor, hastily crowding the guard's own +neck-kerchief into the open, gasping mouth, released the throat clutch +of the rawhide and then securely fixed the gag into place. + +Roughly dragging his captive to a mass of débris he tore it apart and +dragged and pushed the man into it, after which he pushed the rubbish +back into place and then ran to the bowlder, where he covered all tracks. +Picking up the puncher's revolver he took the cylinder from it and hurled +it far out on the plain, throwing the frame across the defile into a +tangled mass of mesquite. Looking carefully about him, to be sure he had +not overlooked anything, he disappeared in the direction from which he had +come. + +He again appeared in the cañon, and ran swiftly along it until he came to +the tracks made by the guard's horse, which he followed into an arroyo +and where he found the animal hobbled. Loosening the hobbles he threw +them over the horse's neck and sprang into the saddle. He picked his +way carefully until he had reached the level plain, when he cantered +northward, keeping close to the rock wall of the Backbone to avoid +being seen by the searchers. When he had put a dozen miles behind him he +turned abruptly to the east, soon becoming lost to sight behind the +scattered chaparrals. + +The Orphan, surmounting a rise, looked to the southwest and saw something +which almost caused his hair to rise, and raising hair was not the +rule with him, which latter is mentioned to give proper emphasis to the +seriousness of what he looked upon. He leaped to the ground and saw that +the cinches were securely fastened, after which he vaulted back into the +saddle, and, instead of offering prayer for success, sent up profanity +at the possibility of failure. + +Two miles to the southwest of him he saw six horses flattened almost to +earth in keeping the speed they had attained and were holding. Back of +them lurched and rocked and heaved the sun-bleached coach, dull gray +and dusty, its tall driver standing up to his work, hatless and with +his arm rapidly rising and falling as he sent the cruel whip cruelly +home. Behind the stage whipped the baggage flap, a huge leathern apron +for the protection of luggage, standing out horizontally because of the +rush of wind caused by the speed of the coach. It flapped defiantly at +what so tenaciously pursued it. A thousand yards to the rear, riding +in crescent formation, the horns now far apart and well ahead of the +center, were five arm- and weapon-waving bronzed enthusiasts whose war +paint could just be discerned by The Orphan's good eyes and field glasses. + +As yet, the reason for the lifting hair has not been disclosed, because +The Orphan was proud in his belief that he had few nerves and a dormant +sympathy, and this scene alone would not have aroused much sympathy +in his heart for the driver, and neither would it have changed the +malevolent expression which disfigured his face, an expression caused +by the remembrance of six cowboys who had searched for him as if he was a +cowardly, cattle-killing coyote. But the exuberant baggage-flap revealed +two trunks, three valises and a pile of white cardboard boxes; and as if +this was not enough for a man adept at sign reading, the door of the +coach suddenly became unfastened and alternately swung open and shut as +the lurching of the coach affected it. And through the intermittent +opening he could see a mass of gray and brown and blue. + +The Orphan had spent ten years of his life battling against the hardest +kinds of odds, and his brain had foresworn long methods of thinking +and had adopted short cuts to conclusions. His mental processes were +sharp, quick and acted instantly on his nerves, often completing an action +before he became clearly conscious of its need. He forgot the pleasant +sheriff and the unpleasant, blundering cowboys who, very probably, were +now engaged in wondering where their companion had gone; and he forgot +his determination to return and free that puncher. He asked himself no +questions as to why or how, but simply sunk his spurs half an inch into a +horse that had peculiar and fixed ideas about their use, and that now +bucked, pitched and galloped forward because its rider had suddenly +decided to save those gray and brown and blue dresses. + +The Apaches had passed the point immediately south of him and were now +more to the west, going at right angles to the course he took. They +were so intent upon gaining yard upon yard that they did not look to +the side--their thoughts were centered on the tall, lanky man who stood +up against the sky and cursed them, and whose hat they had passed miles +back. As he turned and stole the look at them which had so pleased him, +they only waved guns and wasted cartridges more recklessly, yelling +savagely. + +Down from the north charged a brown, a dirty brown horse, and it was +comparatively fresh. It gained steadily, silently, and its gains were +measured in yards to each minute it ran, since it was coming at a sharp +angle. Astride of it and lying along its neck was a man whose spurs and +quirt urged it to its uttermost effort. Soon the man straightened up in +his saddle, the horse braced its legs and slid to a stand as a rifle +arose to the rider's shoulder, and at the shot the animal leaped forward +at its top speed. A puff of smoke flashed past the marksman's head to +mingle with the dust cloud in his wake, and the nearest brave, who was +the last in the crescent, dropped sprawlingly to the ground and rolled +rapidly several times. His horse, freed of its burden, ran off at an +angle and was soon left behind. The excitement of the chase and the noise +of the hoofbeats of their own horses and of the reports of their own +rifles effectually lost the report of the shot and soon another, and +nearest, Apache also plunged to the plain. This time the freed horse shot +ahead and ranged alongside the wearer of the head-dress, who turned in +his saddle and looked back. His eyesight was good, but not good enough +to see the .50 caliber slug which passed through his abdomen and tore the +ear of another warrior's horse. + +The rider of the horse owning the mutilated ear looked quickly backward, +screamed a warning and war-cry all in one and began to shoot rapidly. +His surprised companion followed suit as the coach came to a stand, and +another rifle, long silent, took a hand in the dispute with a vim as if +to make up for lost time. The first warrior fell, shot through by both +rifles, and the other, emptying his magazine at the new factor, who was +very busily engaged in extracting a jammed cartridge, wheeled his pony +about and fled toward the south, panic-stricken by the accuracy of the +newcomer and terrorized by the awful execution. But the Apache's last +shot nearly cleaned the sheriff's slate, grazing The Orphan's temple and +stunning him: a fraction of an inch more to the right would have cheated +the Cross Bar-8 of any chance of revenge. + +Bill, still holding the rifle, leaped to the sand and ran to where his +rescuer lay huddled in the dust of the plain. + +"I've got yore smoking," he exclaimed breathlessly, at last getting rid +of his mental burden. Then he stopped short, swore, and bent over the +figure, and grasping the body firmly by neck and thigh, slung it over +his shoulders and staggered toward the coach, his progress slow and +laborious because of the deep sand and dust. As he neared his objective +he glanced up and saw that his passengers had left the stage and were +grouped together on the plain like lambs lost in a lion country. + +They were hysterical, and all talked at once, sobbing and wringing their +hands. But when they noticed the driver stumbling toward them with the +body across his shoulders their tongues became suddenly mute with a new +fear. Up to then they had thought only of their own woes and bruises, but +here, perhaps, was Death; here was the man who had risked his life that +they might live, and he might have lost as they gained. + +They besieged Bill with tearful questions and gave him no chance to +reply. He staggered past them and placed his burden in the scant shadow +of the coach, while they cried aloud at sight of the blood-stained +face, frozen in their tracks with fear and horror. Bill, ignoring them, +hastily climbed with a wonderful celerity for him, to the high seat +and dropped to the ground with a canteen which he had torn from its +fastenings. Pouring its contents over the upturned face he half emptied a +pocket flask of whisky into The Orphan's mouth and then fell to chafing +and rubbing with his calloused, dust-covered hands, well knowing the +nature of the wound and that it had only stunned. + +Soon the eyelids quivered, fluttered and then flew back and the cruel eyes +stared unblinkingly into those of the man above him, who swore in sudden +joy. Then, weak as he was and only by the aid of an indomitable will, the +wounded man bounded to his feet and stood swaying slightly as one hand +reached out to the stage for support, the other instinctively leaping to +his Colt. He swayed still more as he slowly turned his head and searched +the plain for foes, the Colt half drawn from its holster. + +As soon as he had gained his feet and while he was looking about him in +a dazed way the women began to talk again, excitedly, hysterically. They +gathered around this unshaven, blood-stained man and tried to thank him +for their lives, their voices broken with sobs. He listened, vaguely +conscious of what they were trying to say, until his brain cleared and +made him capable of thought. Then he ceased to sway and spread his feet +far apart to stand erect. His hand went to his head for the sombrero +which was not there, and he smiled as he recalled how he had lost it. + +"Oh, how can we ever thank you!" cried the sheriff's eldest sister, +choking back a nervous sob. "How can we ever thank you for what you have +done! You saved our lives!" she cried, shuddering at the danger now +past. "You saved our lives! You saved our lives!" she repeated excitedly, +clasping and unclasping her hands in her agitation. + +"How can we ever thank you, how can we!" cried the girl who had fainted +when the chase had begun. "It was splendid, splendid!" she cried, swaying +in her weakness. She was so white and bruised and frail that The Orphan +felt pity for her and started to say something, but had no chance. The +three women monopolized the conversation even to the exclusion of Bill, +who suddenly felt that his talking ability was only commonplace after all. + +Blood trickled slowly down the outlaw's face as he smiled at them and +tried to calm them, and the younger sister, suddenly realizing the meaning +of what she had vaguely seen, turned to Bill with an imperative gesture. + +"Bring me some water, driver, immediately," she commanded impatiently, +and Bill hurried around to the rear axle from which swung a small keg of +three gallons' capacity. Quickly unsnapping the chain from it he returned +and pried out the wooden plug, slowly turning the keg until water began +to flow through the hole and trickle down to the sand. Miss Shields took a +small handkerchief from her waist and unfolded it, to be stopped by Bill. + +"Don't spoil that, miss!" he hastily exclaimed. "Take one of mine. They +ain't worth much, and besides, they're a whole lot bigger." + +"Thank you, but this is better," she replied, smiling as she regarded +the dusty neck-kerchief which he eagerly held out to her. She wet the +bit of clean linen and Bill followed her as she stepped to the side of +the outlaw, holding the keg for her and thinking that the sheriff was +not the only thoroughbred to bear the name of Shields. He turned the +keg for her as she needed water, and she bathed the wound carefully, +pushing back the long hair which persisted in getting in her way, all +the time vehemently declining the eager offers of assistance from her +companions. The Orphan had involuntarily raised his hand to stop her, +feeling foolish at so much attention given to so trivial a wound and not +at all accustomed to such things, especially from women with wonderful +deep, black eyes. + +"Please do not bother me," she commanded, pushing his hand aside. "You +can at least let me do this little thing, when you have done so much, or +I shall think you selfish." + +He stood as a bad boy stands when unexpectedly rewarded for some good +deed, uncomfortable because of the ridiculous seriousness given to his +gash, and ashamed because he was glad of the attention. He tried not to +look at her, but somehow his eyes would not stray from her face, her heavy +mass of black hair and her wonderful eyes. + +"You make me think that I'm really hurt," he feebly expostulated as he +capitulated to her deft hands. "Now, if it was a real wound, why it might +be all right. But, pshaw, all this fuss and feathers about a scratch!" + +"Indeed!" she cried, dropping the stained handkerchief to the ground +as she took another from her dress, plastering his hair back with her +free hand. "I suppose you would rather have what you call a real wound! +You should be thankful that it is no worse! Why, just the tiniest bit +more, and you would have--" she shuddered as she thought of it and turned +quickly away and tore a strip of linen from her skirt. Straightening up +and facing him again she ripped off the trimming and carefully plucked +the loose threads from it. Folding it into a neat bandage she placed the +handkerchief over the wound after pushing back the rebellious hair and +bound it into place with the strip, deftly patting it here and pushing it +there until it suited her. Then, drawing it tight, she unfastened the +gold breast-pin which she wore at her throat and pinned the bandage into +place, stepping back to regard her work with satisfaction. + +"There!" she cried laughing delightedly. "You look real well in a bandage! +But I am sorry there is need for one," she said, sobering instantly. +"But, then, it could have been much worse, very much worse, couldn't +it?" she asked, smiling brightly. + +Before The Orphan could reply, Bill saw a break in the conversation, or +thought he did, and hastened to say something, for he felt unnatural. + +"I got yore smokin', Orphant!" he cried, clambering up to his seat. +"Leastawise, I had before them war-whoops--yep! Here she is, right side +up and fine and dandy!" + +Could he have seen the look which the outlaw flashed at him he would have +quailed with sudden fear. Three gasps arose in chorus, and the women +drew back from the outlaw, fearful and shocked and severe. But with +the sheriff's younger sister it was only momentarily, for she quickly +recovered herself and the look of fear left her eyes. So this, then, +was the dreaded Orphan, the outlaw of whom her brother had written! This +young, sinewy, good-looking man, who had swayed so unsteadily on his +feet, was the man the stories of whose outrages had filled the pages of +Eastern newspapers and magazines! Could he possibly be guilty of the +murders ascribed to him? Was he capable of the inhumanity which had +made his name a synonym of terror? As she wondered, torn by conflicting +thoughts, he looked at her unflinchingly, and his thin lips wore a +peculiar smile, cynical and yet humorous. + +Bill leaped to the ground with the smoking tobacco and, blissfully +unconscious of what he had done, continued unruffled. + +"That was d----n fine--begging the ladies' pardon," he cried. "Yes sir, +it was plumb sumptious, it shore was! And when I tell the sheriff how +you saved his sisters, he'll be some tickled! You just bet he will! And +I'll tell it right, too! Just leave the telling of it to me. Lord, when +I looked back to see how far them war-whoops were from my back hair, and +saw you tearing along like you was a shore enough express train, I just +had to yell, I was so tickled. It was just like I held a pair of deuces +in a big jack-pot and drew two more! My, but didn't I feel good! And, +say--whenever you run out of smoking again, you just flag Bill Howland's +chariot: you can have all he's got. That's straight, you bet! Bill Howland +don't forget a turn like that, never." + +The enthusiasm he looked for did not materialize and he glanced from one +to another as he realized that something was up. + +"Come, dears, let us go," said Mary Shields, lifting her skirts and +abruptly turning her back on the outlaw. "We evidently have far to go, +and we have wasted _so_ much time. Come, Grace," she said to her friend, +stepping toward the coach. + +Bill stared and wondered how much time had been wasted, since never before +had he reached that point in so short a time. He had made two miles to +every one at his regular speed. + +"Come, Helen!" came the command from the elder, and with a trace of +surprise and impatience. + +"Sister! Why, Mary, how can you be so mean!" retorted the girl with the +black eyes, angry and indignant at the unkindness of the cut, her face +flushing at its injustice. Her spirit was up in arms immediately and she +deliberately walked to The Orphan and impulsively held out her hand, her +sister's words deciding the doubts in her mind in the outlaw's favor. + +"Forgive her!" she cried. "She doesn't mean to be rude! She is so very +nervous, and this afternoon has been too much for her. It was a man's +act, a brave man's act! And one which I will always cherish, for I will +never forget this day, never, never!" she reiterated earnestly. "I don't +care what they say about you, not a bit! I don't believe it, for you +could not have done what you have if you are as they paint you. I will +not wait for our driver to tell my brother about your splendid act--he, +at least, shall know you as you are, and some day he will return it, too." + +Then she looked from him to her hand: "Will you not shake hands with +me? Show me that you are not angry. Are you fair to me to class me as an +enemy, just because my brother is the sheriff?" + +He looked at her in wonderment and his face softened as he took the hand. + +"Thank you," he said simply. "You are kind, and fair. I do not think of +you as an enemy." + +"Helen! Are you coming?" came from the coach. + +He smiled at the words and then laughed bitterly, recklessly, his +shoulders unconsciously squaring. There was no malice in his face, +only a quizzical, baffling cynicism. + +"Oh, it's a shame!" she cried, her eyes growing moist. She made a gesture +of helplessness and looked him full in the eyes. "Whatever you have +done in the past, you will give them no cause to say such things in the +future, will you? You will leave it all behind you and get work, and not +be an outlaw any more, won't you? You will prove my faith in you, for I +_have_ faith in you, won't you? It will all be forgotten," she added, +as if her words made it so. Then she leaned forward to readjust the +bandage. "There, now it's all right--you must not touch it again like +that." + +"You are alone in your faith," he replied bitterly, not daring to look at +her. + +"Oh, I reckon not," muttered Bill, scowling at the stage as if he would +like to unhitch and leave it there. Then seeing The Orphan glance at the +horse which was grazing contentedly, he went out to capture the animal. +"D----d old hen, that's what she is!" he muttered fiercely. "I don't care +if she is the sheriff's sister, that's just what she is! Just a regular +ingrowing disposition!" + +"You are kind, as kind as you are beautiful," The Orphan responded simply. +"But you don't know." + +She flushed at his words and then decided that he spoke in simple +sincerity. + +"I know that you are going to do differently," she replied as she extended +her hand again. "Good-by." + +He bowed his head as he took it and flushed: "Good-by." + +She slowly turned and walked toward the coach, where she was received by +a chilling silence. + +Bill brought the horse to where The Orphan stood lost in thought, +unbuckled his cartridge belt and wrapped it around the pommel of the +saddle, the heavy Colt still in the holster. Then he clambered up for his +rifle and tied it to the saddle skirt by the thongs of leather which +dangled therefrom. Looking about him he espied the keg on the sand and, +driving home the plug, slung it behind the cantle of the saddle where +he fastend it by the straps which held the outlaw's "slicker." Jamming +the package of tobacco into the pocket of the garment he stepped back +and grinned sheepishly at his generous gifts. He turned abruptly and +strode to the outlaw and shoved out his hand. + +"There, pardner, shake!" he cried heartily. "Yore the best man in the +whole d----d cow country, and I'll tell 'em so, too, by God!" + +The outlaw came out of his reverie and looked him searchingly in the face +as he gripped the outstretched hand with a grip which made the driver +wince. + +"Don't be a fool, Bill," he replied. "You'll get yourself disliked if +you enthuse about me." Then he noticed the additions to his equipment +and frowned: "You better take those things, I can't. The spirit is enough." + +"Oh, you borrow them 'til you see me again," replied Bill. "You may need +'em," he added as he wheeled and walked to the coach. He climbed to his +seat and wrapped the lines about his hands, cracking the whip as soon as +he could, and the coach lurched on its way to Ford's Station, the driver +grunting about fool old maids who didn't know enough to be glad they were +alive. + +The Orphan hesitated about the gifts and then decided to take them for +the time. He mounted and rode past the coach door, keeping near to the +flank of the last horse, where he listened to Bill's endless talk. + +"How is it that you've got a Cross Bar-8 cayuse?" Bill asked at length, +too idiotically happy to realize the significance of his question. + +The Orphan's hand leaped suddenly and then stopped and dropped to the +pommel, and he looked up at the driver. + +"Oh, one of their punchers and I sort of swapped," he laughingly replied, +thinking of the man under the débris. "Say, if I don't get as far as +the cañon with you, just climb up above on the left hand side near the +entrance and release a fool puncher that is covered up under a pile of +rubbish, will you? I came near forgetting him, and I don't want him to die +in that way." + +As he spoke he saw a group of horsemen swing over a rise and he knew them +instinctively. + +"There's the gang now--tell them, I'm off for a ride," he said, dropping +back to the coach door, where he raised his hand to his head and bowed. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE OUTFIT HUNTS FOR STRAYS + + +As the group of punchers and the stage neared each other Bill saw two +horsemen ride out into view beside a chaparral half a mile to the +northwest, and he recognized Shields and Charley, who were loping forward +as if to overtake the cowboys, their approach noiseless because of +the deep sand. As the cowboys came nearer Bill recognized them as being +the five worst men of the Cross Bar-8 outfit, and his loyalty to his +new friend was no stronger than his dislike for the newcomers. They +swept up at a canter and stopped abruptly near the front wheel. + +"Who was _that?"_ asked Larry Thompson impatiently, with his gloved hand +indicating the direction taken by The Orphan. + +"Friend of mine," replied Bill, who was diplomatically pleasant. "Say," he +began, enthusing for effect, "you should have turned up sooner--you missed +a regular circus! We was chased by five Apaches, and my friend cleaned +'em up right, he shore did! You should a seen it. I wouldn't a missed it +for----" + +"Cheese it!" relentlessly continued Larry, interrupting the threatened +verbal deluge. "Don't be all day about it, Windy," he cried; "who is he?" + +"Why, a friend of mine, Tom Davis," lied Bill. "He just wiped out a bunch +of Apaches, like I was telling you. They was a-chasing me some plentiful +and things was getting real interesting when he chipped in and took a +hand from behind. And he certainly cleaned 'em up brown, he shore did! +Say, I'll bet you, even money, that he can lick the sheriff, or even The +Orphant! He's a holy terror on wheels, that's what he is! Talk about +lightning on the shoot--and he can hit twice in the same place, too, +if he wants to, though there ain't no use of it when he gets there once. +The way he can heave lead is enough to make----" + +"Choke it, Bill, choke it!" testily ordered Curley Smith, whose reputation +was unsavory. "Tell us why in h--l he hit th' trail so all-fired hard. +Is yore friend some bashful?" he inquired ironically. + +"Well," replied Bill, grinning exasperatingly, "it all depends on how +you looks at it. Women say he is, men swear he ain't; you can take your +choice. But they do say he ain't no ladies' man," he jabbed maliciously, +well knowing that Curley prided himself on being a "lady-killer." + +"Th' h--l he ain't!" retorted Curley, with a show of anger, preparing to +argue, which would take time; and Bill was trying to give the outlaw a +good start of them. "Th' h--l he ain't!" he repeated, leaning aggressively +forward. "Yu keep yore opinions close to home, yu big-mouthed coyote!" + +"Well, you asked me, didn't you?" replied Bill. "And I told you, didn't I? +He's a good man all around, and say, you should oughter hear him sing! +He's a singer from Singersville, he is. Got the finest voice this side +of Chicago, that's what." + +"That's _real_ interesting, and _just_ what we was askin' yu about," +replied Larry with withering sarcasm. "An' bein' so, Windy, we'll shore +give him all the music he wants to sing to before dark if we gets him. +Yore lying ability is real highfalutin'. Now, suppose yu tell th' truth +before we drag it outen yu--who is he?" + +"You ought to know it by this time. Didn't I say his name is Tom Davis?" +he replied, crossing his legs, his face wearing a bored look. "How many +names do you think he's got, anyhow? Ain't one enough?" + +"Look a-here!" cried Curley, pushing forward. "Was that th' d----d +Orphant? Come on, now, talk straight!" + +"Orphant!" ejaculated Bill in surprise. "Did you say Orphant? Orphant +nothing!" he responded. "What in h--l do you think I'd be lying about +him for? Do I look easy? He ain't no friend of mine! Besides, I wouldn't +know him if I saw him, never having seen that frisky gent. Holy gee! is +the Orphant loose in this country, out here along my route!" he cried, +simulating alarm. + +"Well, we'll take a chance anyhow," interposed Jack Kelly. "I can tell +when a fool lies. If it _is_ yore friend Tom Davis we won't hurt him none." + +"Honest, you won't hurt him?" asked Bill, grinning broadly. "No, I reckon +_you_ won't, all right," he added, for the sheriff was close at hand +now and was coming up at a walk, and Bill had an abiding faith in that +official. He could be a trifle reckless how he talked now. He laughed +sarcastically and hooked his thumbs in the armholes of his vest. "Nope, +I reckon _you_ won't hurt him, not a little bit. Not if he knows you're +going to try it on him. And if it should be Mister Orphant, well, I hear +that he's dead sore on being hunted--don't like it for a d----n. I also +hear he drinks blood instead of water and whips five men before breakfast +every morning to get up an appetite. Oh, no, and you won't hurt him +neither, will you?" + +"Yore real pert, now _ain't_ yu?" shouted Curley angrily. "Yore a whole +lot sassy an' smart, _ain't_ yu? But if we find that he is that Orphant, +we'll pay yu a visit so yu can explain just why yore so d----d friendly +with him. He seems to have a whole lot of friends about this country, he +does! Even the sheriff won't hurt him. Even th' brave sheriff loses his +trail. Must be somethin' in it for somebody, eh?" + +"You'd better tell that to somebody else, the sheriff, for instance. He'd +like to think it over," responded Bill easily. "It's a good chance to +see a little branding, a la Colt, as the French say. Tell it to him, why +don't you?" + +"I'm a-tellin' it to yu, _now_, an' I'll tell it to Shields when I sees +him, yu overgrown baby, yu!" shouted Curley, his hand dropping to his +Colt. "Everybody knows it! Everybody is a-talkin' about it! An' we'll +have a new sheriff, too, before long! An' as for yu, if we wasn't in such +a hurry, we'd give yu a lesson yu'd never forget! That d----d Orphant +has got a pull, but we're goin' to give him a push, an' plumb into hell! +Either a pull or our brave sheriff is some ascairt of him! He's a _fine_ +sheriff, _he_ is, th' big baby!" + +"Pleasant afternoon, Curley," came from behind the group, accompanied by a +soft laugh. The voice was very pleasant and low. Curley stiffened and +turned in his saddle like a flash. The sheriff was smiling, but there was +a glint in his fighting eyes that gave grave warning. The sheriff smiled, +but some men smile when most dangerous, and as an assurance of mastery +and coolness. + +"Looking for strays, or is it mavericks?" he casually asked, a question +which left no doubt as to what the smile indicated, for it was a +challenge. Maverick hunting was at that time akin to rustling, and it was +occurring on the range despite the sheriff's best efforts to stop it. + +Curley flushed and mumbled something about a missing herd. He had suddenly +remembered the scene at the corral, and it had a most subduing effect on +him. The sheriff regarded him closely and then noted the bullet holes in +the coach. The door of the vehicle was closed, the curtains down, and no +sound came from within it. The baggage flap had settled askew over the +tell-tale trunks and hid them from sight on that side. + +"Oh, it's a missing herd this time, is it?" he inquired coolly. "Well, +I reckon you won't find it out here. They don't wander over this layout +while the Limping Water is running." + +"Well, we'll take a look down south aways; it won't do no harm now that +we've got this far," replied Larry. "Come on, boys," he cried. "We've +wasted too much time with th' engineer." + +"Wait!" commanded the sheriff shortly. "Your foreman made me certain +promises, and I reckon that you are out against orders. I wouldn't be +surprised if Sneed wants you right now." + +Larry laughed uneasily. "Oh, I reckon he ain't losin' no sleep about us. +We won't hurt nobody" --whereat Bill grinned. "Come on, fellows." + +"Well, I hope you get what you're looking for," replied the sheriff, +whereat Bill snickered outright and winked at Charley, who sat alert +and scowling behind the sheriff, rather hoping for a fight. + +Larry flashed the driver a malicious look and, wheeling, cantered south, +followed by his companions. They rode straight for the point at which The +Orphan had disappeared, Bill waving his arms and crying: "Sic 'em." The +chase was on in earnest. + +The stage door suddenly flew open with a bang and interrupted the +explanations which Bill was about to offer, and in a flash the sheriff +was almost smothered by the attentions showered on him. Laughing and +struggling and delighted by the surprise, the peace officer could not +get a word edgewise in the rapid-fire exclamations and questions which +were hurled at him from all sides. + +But finally he could be heard as he extricated himself from the embraces +of his sisters. + +"Well, well!" he cried, smiles wreathing his face as he stepped back to +get a good look at them. "You're a sight to make a sick man well! My, +Helen, but how you've grown! It's been five years since I saw you--and +you were only a schoolgirl in short dresses! And Mary hasn't grown a +bit older, not a bit," addressing the elder of the two. Then he turned to +the friend. "You must pardon me, Miss Ritchie," he said as he shook hands +with her. "But I've been looking forward to this meeting for a long time. +And I'm really surprised, too, because I didn't expect you all until the +next stage trip. I had intended meeting you at the train and seeing you +safely to Ford's Station, because the Apaches are out. I couldn't get +word to you in time for you to postpone your visit, so I was going to +take Charley and several more of the boys and escort you home." + +Then he looked about for Charley, and found that person engaged in +conversation with Bill as the two examined the bullet-marked stage. + +"Come here, Charley!" he cried, beckoning his friend to his side. +"Ladies, this is Charley Winter, and he is a real good boy for a puncher. +Charley, Miss Ritchie, my sisters Mary and Helen. I reckon you ladies are +purty well acquainted with Bill Howland by this time, but in case you +ain't, I'll just say that he is the boss driver of the Southwest, noted +locally for his oppressive taciturnity. I reckon you two boys don't need +any introducing," he laughed. + +Then, while the conversation throbbed at fever heat, Bill suddenly +remembered and wheeled toward the sheriff. + +"The Orphant!" he yelled in alarm, hoping to gain attention that way. + +The sheriff and Charley wheeled, guns in hand, and leaped clear of the +women, their quick eyes glancing from point to point in search of the +danger. + +"Where?" cried the sheriff over his shoulder at Bill. + +"Down south, ahead of them fool punchers," Bill exclaimed. "He's only +got a little start on 'em. And they know he's there, too. That's why +they're looking for cows on a place cows never go." + +Then he related in detail the occurrences of the past few hours, to the +sheriff's great astonishment, and also to his delight at the way it had +turned out. Shields thought of his own personal experiences with the +outlaw, and this put him deeper in debt. His opinion as to there being +much good in his enemy's makeup was strengthened, and he smiled at the +fighting ability and fairness of the man who had declared a truce with +him by the big bowlder on the Apache Trail. + +"Oh, I hope they don't catch him!" Helen cried anxiously. "Can't you do +something, James?" she implored. "He saved us, and he is wounded, too! +Can't you stop them?" + +The sheriff looked to the south in the direction taken by the +cow-punchers, and a hard light grew in his eyes. + +"No, not now," he replied decisively. "They've had too much time now. And +it's safe to bet that they rode at full speed just as soon as they got +out of my sight. They knew Bill would tell me. They're miles away by +this time. But don't you worry, Sis--they won't get him. Five curs never +lived that could catch a timber wolf in his own country--and if they +do catch him, they will wish they hadn't. And I almost hope they win the +chase, for they'll lose their fool lives. It will be a lesson to the +rest of the bullies of the Cross Bar-8--and small loss to the community at +large, eh, Charley?" + +"Yore shore right, Jim," replied Charley, smiling at Miss Ritchie. +"Did you ever hear tell of the dog that retrieved a lighted dynamite +cartridge?" he asked her. "No? Well, the dog left for parts unknown." + +"That's good, Charley," Shields responded with a laugh. "The dog just +wouldn't mind, and he was only a snarling, no-account cur at that, +wasn't he?" Then he looked at the coach, and his heart softened to the +hunted man. "I can see it all, now," he said slowly. "Those punchers must +have forced him out of the Backbone, and he was getting away when he +saw the plight you were in. By God!" he cried in appreciation of the +act. "It wasn't no one man's work, five Apaches! One man stopping five of +those devils--it was no work for a murderer, not much! It was clean-cut +nerve, and if I ever see him I'll tell him so, too! I'll let him know that +he's got some friends in this country. They can say what they please, +but there's more manhood in him to the square inch than there is in all +the people who cry him down; and who are in a great way responsible for +his being an outlaw. I'm ready to swear that he never wantonly shot a man +down; no, sir, he didn't. And I reckon he never had much show, from +what I know of him." + +"Helen was real kind to him," remarked the spinster. "She bathed his wound +and bandaged it. Spoiled her very best skirt, too." + +"You're a good girl, Sis," Shields said, looking fondly at the beautiful +girl at his side. His arm went around her shoulder and he affectionately +patted her cheek. "I'm proud of you, and we'll have to see if we can't +get another 'very best skirt,' too." Then he laughed: "But I'll bet he +blesses the warrior who fired that shot--he's not used to having pretty +girls fuss about him." + +Mary looked quickly at her sister. "Why, Helen! You've lost your gold pin! +Where do you suppose it has gone? I'll look in the stage for it before we +forget about it. Dear me, dear me," she cried as she entered the vehicle, +"this has indeed been a terrible day!" + +Bill grinned and turned toward his team. "I reckon she'll find it some +day," he said in a low aside as he passed the sheriff. "I'll just bet she +does. It'll be in at the finish of a whole lot of things, and people, too, +you bet," he added enigmatically. + +Shields looked quickly at the driver, his face brightened and he smiled +knowingly at the words. "I reckon it will; fool punchers, for instance?" + +Bill turned his head and one eye closed in an emphatic wink. "Keno," he +replied. + +Mary bustled out again, very much agitated. "I can't find it. Where do +you suppose you lost it, dear? I've looked everywhere in the stage." + +"Probably back where we stopped before," Helen replied quietly. "We were +so agitated that we would never have noticed it if it slipped down." + +"Well--" began Mary. + +"No use going back for it, Miss Shields," promptly interrupted Bill from +his high seat. "We just couldn't find it in all that trampled sand, not +if we hunted all week for it with a comb." + +"You're right, Bill," gravely responded the sheriff. "We never could." + +As they entered the defile of the Backbone the sheriff suddenly remembered +what Bill had told him and he stopped and dismounted. + +"You keep right on, Bill," he said. "I'm going up to hunt that fool +puncher. Lord, but it's a joke! This game is getting better every day--I'm +getting so I sort of like to have The Orphan around. He's shore original, +all right." + +"He's better than a marked deck in a darkened room," laughed the driver. +"He shore ought to be framed, or something like that." + +"You better go with them, Charley," the sheriff said as his friend made a +move at dismounting. "There ain't no danger, but we won't take no chances +this time; we've got a precious coachful." + +"All right," replied Charley as he wheeled toward the disappearing stage. +"So long, Sheriff." + +The sheriff looked the wall over and then picked out a comparatively easy +place and climbed to the top. As he drew himself over the edge he espied +a pair of boots which showed from under a pile of débris, and he laughed +heartily. At the laugh the feet began to kick vigorously, so affecting +the sheriff that he had to stop a minute, for it was the most ludicrous +sight he had ever looked upon. + +Shields grabbed the boots and pulled, walking backward, and soon an +enraged and trussed cow-puncher came into view. Slowly and carefully +unrolling the rope from the unfortunate man, he coiled it methodically +and slung it over his shoulder, and then assisted in loosening the gag. + +The puncher was too stiff to rise and his liberator helped him to his +feet and slapped and rubbed and chuckled and rubbed to start the blood in +circulation. The gag had so affected the muscles of the puncher's jaw +that his mouth would not close without assistance and effort, and his +words were not at all clear for that reason. His first word was a curse. + +"'Ell!" he cried as he stamped and swung his arms. "'Ell! I'm asleep all +o'er! ----! 'Ait till I get 'im! ----! 'Ait till I get 'im!" + +"Sort of continuing the little nap you was taking when he roped you, eh?" +asked Shields, holding his sides. + +"Nap nothing! Nap nothing!" yelled the other in profane denial. "I wasn't +asleep, I tell yu! I was wide awake! He got th' drop on me, and then that +cussed rope of his'n was everywhere! Th' air was plumb full of rope and +guns! I didn't have no show! Not a bit of a show! Oh, just wait till I +get him! Why, I heard my pardners talking as they hunted for me, and there +I was not twenty feet away from them all the time, helpless! They're +fine lookers, they are! Wait till I sees them, too! I'll tell 'em a few +things, all right!" + +"Well, I reckon you may see one or two of them, if they're lucky--and you +can't beat a fool for luck," replied the sheriff. "They want to be angels; +they're on his trail now." + +"Hope they get him!" yelled the puncher, dancing with rage. "Hope they +burn him at th' stake! Hope they scalp him, an' hash him, an' saw his arms +off, an' cave his roof in! Hope they make him eat his fingers and toes! +Hope----" + +"You're some hopeful to-day," responded the sheriff. "If you like them, +you better hope they don't get him. That's hoping real hope." + +"Wait till I get him!" the puncher repeated, grabbing for his Colt, being +too enraged to notice its absence. "I'll show him if he can tie a man up +an' leave him to choke to death, an' starve an' roast! I'll show him if +he can run this country like he owns it, shooting and abusing everybody +he wants to!" + +"All right, Sonny," Shields laughed. "I'll shore wait till you gets him, +if I live long enough. But for your sake I shore hope you never finds him. +He wouldn't get any more reputation if he killed you, and your friends +would miss you." + +"Don't yu let that worry yu!" retorted the enraged man. "I can take care +of myself in a mix-up, all right! An' I'm going to chase after my friends +an' take a hand in th' game, too, by God! He ain't going to leave me high +an' dry an' live to boast about it! But I suppose you reckon yu'll stop +me, hey?" + +Shields raised both hands high in the air in denial. "I wouldn't think +of such a thing, not for the world," he cried, laughter shaking his big +frame. "You can go any place you please, only _I'd_ take a gun if I was +going after _him_," he added, eyeing the empty holster. "You know, you +_might_ need it," he was very grave in his use of the subjunctive. + +The puncher slapped his hand to his thigh and then jumped high into the +air: "----! ----!" he shouted. "Stole my gun! Stole my gun!" Then he +paused suddenly and his face cleared. "But I've got something better'n a +Colt on my cayuse!" he cried as he leaped toward the edge of the cañon. +"An' I'll give him all it holds, too!" he threatened as he bumped and +slid to the bottom. The sheriff took more care and time in descending and +had just reached the trail when he heard a heart-rending yell, followed +by a sizzling stream of throbbing profanity. + +"Where's my cayuse?" yelled the puncher as he rounded the corner of +the cañon wall on a peculiar lope and hop. "Where's my cayuse, yu +law-coyote?" he shouted, temporarily out of his senses from rage. +"Where's my cayuse!" dancing up to the sheriff and shaking both fists +under the laughter-convulsed face. + +When the sheriff could speak, he leaned against the cañon wall for support +and broke the news. + +"Why, Bill Howland said as how The Orphan was riding a Cross Bar-8 +cayuse--dirty brown, with a white stocking on his near front foot. It +had a big scar on its neck, too." + +"Th' d----d hoss thief!" began the puncher, but Shields kept right on +talking. + +"There was a dandy Cheyenne saddle," he said, counting on his fingers, "a +good gun, a pair of hobbles and a big coil of rawhide rope on the cayuse. +Was they yours?" + +"Was they mine! Was they mine!" his companion screamed. "My new saddle +gone, my gun gone and my fine rope gone! Oh, h--l! How'll I hunt him now? +How'll I get home? How'll I get back to th' ranch?" Words failed him, and +he could only wave his arms and yell. + +"Well, it wouldn't hardly be worth while chasing him on foot without a +gun, that's shore," the sheriff said, grave once more. "But you can get +home all right; that's easy." + +"How can I?" asked the puncher, eyeing the sheriff's horse and waiting +for the invitation to ride double on it. + +"Why, walk," was the reply. "It's only about twenty miles as the crow +flies--say twenty-five on the trail." + +"Walk! Walk!" cried his companion, savagely kicking at a lizard which +looked out from a crevice in the rock wall. "I never walked five miles +all at once in my life!" + +"Well, it'll be a new experience, and you can't begin any younger," +replied Shields as he swung into his saddle. "It'll do you good, +too--increase your appetite." + +"I'm so hungry now I'm half starved," replied the other. "But I'll pay up +for all this, you see if I don't! I'll get square with that d----d outlaw!" + +"You don't know enough to be glad you were found," retorted the sheriff. +"And if he hadn't told Bill where to look for you, you wouldn't have been, +neither. You got off easy, Bucknell, and don't you forget it, neither. +Men have been killed for less than what you tried to do." + +The puncher wilted, for twenty-five miles in high-heeled boots, over rocks +and sand, and with an empty stomach, was terrible to contemplate, and he +turned to the sheriff beseechingly. + +"Give me a lift, Sheriff," he implored. "Take me up behind you--I can't +walk all the way!" + +Shields looked at the sun, which was nearing the western horizon, and +thought for a minute. Then he shrugged his shoulders. + +"Well, I hadn't ought to help you a step, not a single, solitary step, and +you know it. You tried your best to run against me. You tried to hold me +up there by the corral, and then after I had warned you not to go out +for The Orphan you went right ahead. Now you're asking me to help you out +of your trouble, to make good for your fool stupidity. But I'll take you +as far as the end of the cañon--no, I'll take you on to the ford, and +then you can do the rest on foot. That'll leave you ten or a dozen miles. +Get aboard." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +"A TIMBER WOLF IN HIS OWN COUNTRY" + + +When The Orphan said good-by to Bill he sat quietly in his saddle for a +minute watching the departing stage and wondered how it was that he had +the decency to avoid a fight with the cowboys in the presence of the +women. Then Helen's words came to him and he smiled at the idea of peace +when he would have to fight the outfit before sundown. The heat of the sun +on his bare head recalled him from his mental wanderings and he wheeled +abruptly and galloped along the trail to where he remembered that a tiny, +blood-stained handkerchief lay in the dust and sand. Soon he espied it +and, swinging over in the saddle, deftly picked it up and regained his +upright position, his head reeling at the effort. Unfolding it he examined +the neat "H" done in silk in one corner and smiled as he put it in his +chaps pocket where he kept his extra ammunition. + +"Peace and war in one pocket," he muttered, grinning at his cartridges' +new and unusual companion. + +Then he espied a Winchester near a fallen brave, and he procured it as he +had the handkerchief. Describing an arc he picked up another, discarding +it after he had emptied the magazine, for ammunition was what he wanted. +Two Winchesters were all right, but three were too many. As he threw it +from him he glanced through a slight opening in the chaparral and saw the +outfit approach the stage. Then he galloped to where his sombrero lay, +picked it up and turned to the south for the Cimarron Trail. When +thoroughly screened by the chaparral he pushed on with the swinging lope +which his horse could maintain for hours, and which ate up distance in +an astonishing manner. He had lost time in going for his sombrero and +the handkerchief, and every minute before nightfall was precious. His +thoughts now bent to the problem of how either to elude or ambush his +pursuers, and the Winchesters bespoke his forethought, for up to six +hundred yards they were not a pleasant proposition to face. If he +eluded the cowboys in the darkness he was morally certain that they +would take up his trail at dawn, and what distance he had gained would be +at the expense of the freshness of his horse. While he would average ten +miles an hour through the night, their mounts, freshened by a night's +rest, might cut down his gain before the nightfall of the next day. + +One of the Winchesters worked loose from its lashings and started to slide +toward the ground. He quickly grasped it and made it secure, smiling at +the number of rifles he had had and lost during the past three weeks. + +"Funny how this country has been shedding Winchesters lately," he mused. +"There was the five I got by the big bowlder, which I lost playing tag +with that d----d Cross Bar-8 gang, and here's two more, and I just left +three what I didn't want. Well, they're real handy for stopping a rush, +and I reckons that's what I'm up against this time. If I can find a +likely spot for a scrap before dark I may stop that gang in bang-up +style, d----n them." + +Half an hour later he caught sight of a moving body of horsemen to the +southeast of him and his glasses enabled him to make them out. + +"'Paches!" he exclaimed, and then he smiled grimly and continued on his +way toward them, taking care to keep himself screened from their sight +by rises and chaparrals. His first thought had been of danger, but now +he laughed at the cards fate had put in his hand, for he would use the +Indians to great advantage later on. + +He counted them and made their number to be twenty-two, which accounted +for the five warriors who had pursued the stage coach. The odds were fine +and he laughed joyously, recklessly: "All is fair in love and war," he +muttered savagely. + +Before the Indians had come upon the scene he had been alone to face +five angry and vengeful men, and whom he had every reason to believe +were at least fair fighters. Had the positions been reversed they would +not have hesitated to make use of any stratagem to save themselves--and +here were two contingents, both of which would take his life at the first +opportunity. He felt no distaste at the game he was about to play; on +the other hand, it pleased him immensely to know that he was superior +in intellect to his enemies. They both wanted blood, and they should +have it. If they found too much, well and good--that was their lookout. +And no less pleasing was the knowledge that he had sent them north and +that now he could make use of them. He wondered what they had been doing +for the last three weeks and why they were still in that part of the +country, but he did not care, for they were where he wanted them to be. + +"Twenty-two mad Apaches on the warpath against five cow-wrastlers!" +he exulted. "More than four to one, and just aching to get square on +somebody! That Cross Bar-8 gang will have something to weep about purty +d----n soon! And I shore hope they don't get tired and quit chasing me." + +He stopped and waited when he had gained a screened position from where +he could look back over his trail, and he had not long to wait, for soon +he saw five cowboys galloping hard in his direction. Another look to +the southeast showed him that the war party was now riding slowly toward +him, not knowing of his presence, and they would arrive at his cover +at about the same time the cowboys would come up. Neither the Indians +nor the cowboys knew of the proximity of the other, while The Orphan +could see them both. He glanced at the thicket to the west of him and +saw that it was thin, being a connecting link between the two larger +chaparrals. + +"I don't know how you are on the jump, bronch," he said to his mount, "but +I reckon you can get through that, all right." + +The cowboys disappeared from his sight behind the northern chaparral, +and as they did so he sunk his spurs into his horse and rode straight at +the prickly screen and, going partly over and partly through it, galloped +westward as the war party and the ranch contingent met. The shots and +yells were as music to his ears, and he bowed in mockery and waved his +hand at the turmoil as he made his escape. The timber wolf had won. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE CROSS BAR-8 LOSES SLEEP + + +Sneed was angry, which could be seen by the way he talked, ate, moved and +swore. He had many cattle to care for and they were strewn over six +hundred square miles of territory. The work was hard enough when he had +his full dozen punchers, but now it forced groans from the tired bodies +of his men, who fell asleep while removing their saddles at night, and +who worked in a way almost mechanical. The extra work was not conducive to +sweetness of temper, and he was continually quelling fights among the +members of the outfit. Where only argument formerly would have arisen +over differences of opinion, guns now leaped forth; and the differences +were multiplied greatly, and getting worse every day. Things which +ordinarily would have provoked no notice, or a laugh at most, now caused +hot words and surliness. And the reason for the extra work was the +continued absence of five cow punchers. + +Sneed, tired of cursing the missing men and of offering himself +explanations as to why they had not returned, fell, instead, to +planning an appropriate reception for them on their return to the ranch. +He needed no rehearsing, for while he did not know in just what manner +he would reveal his ideas concerning them, he knew what his ideas were +and he had always been good at extemporizing when under pressure, and he +was under pressure now if he had ever been. + +The extra work was hard enough in itself to cause his anger to rise +and to create sensitiveness and surliness on the part of his men, but +it was only one factor of his discontent. Busy all day at driving the +scattered cattle away from the Backbone and closer to the ranch proper +where they would be less likely to fall prey to Apache raiders; working +all day from the first sign of dawn to the prohibitive blackness of the +night, they could have stood up under the strain, for these were men of +iron, inured to hardships and constant riding. But hardy as they were +there was one thing which they must have, and that was sleep. If they +could have only four hours of unbroken sleep when they threw themselves, +fully dressed with the exception of their boots, in their bunks, they +could have endured the labor for weeks. But this was denied them, and +constantly on their minds were thoughts of fire, slaughtered cattle +and death. + +For a week night had been a terror on the Cross Bar-8. No sooner had the +exhausted outfit fallen asleep than bits of window glass would fly about +them, cutting and stinging. There was not a whole window pane in the house +and the door was so full of lead that it sagged on its half-shattered +hinges. Cooking utensils were fast deserving premiums, for hardly an +unperforated tin could be found on the premises. And their cook, a +Mexican, who most devoutly believed in a personal devil and a brimstone +hell, and who feared that he was living in uncomfortable proximity to +both, stood the strain for just two nights and then, panic-stricken, had +fled from the accursed place and left them to get their own meals as +best they could. The protection of the saints was all very well and good +under ordinary circumstances, but when they failed to stop the bullets +which passed through his cook shack and which more than once had grazed +him, it was time for him to find some place far removed from the Cross +Bar-8, and where the devil was less strong. When the saints allowed a +devil-sped bullet to completely shatter a crucifix it was time to migrate, +which he did, but in broad daylight when the outfit had departed and when +the devil was not in evidence. + +The interiors of both the ranch house and the bunk house were wrecked. +The clock, the pride of the foreman, stood with half its wheels buried in +the wall behind it by a .50 caliber slug, its hands pointing to half-past +one. Lead filled the interior walls, where opposite windows, and the +holes and splinters were a disgrace. Sombreros, equipment and the few +pictures the walls boasted were like tops of pepper shakers. No sooner was +a light shown than it became the target for a shot, and more than one +wound gave proof as to the accuracy of the perpetrator. So tired that +they fell asleep at supper, the men were constantly awakened by the noise +of devastation and the whining hum of the bullets. Pursuit was a failure, +and was also hazardous, as proven by Bert Hodge's arm, broken by a .50 +caliber slug from somewhere. + +The two houses, wrecked as they were, were fortunate when compared to +the condition of the other appurtenances of the ranch. Horses were +found dead at all points, and always with a bullet hole in the center +of the forehead. The carcasses of cows dotted the plain, and fire had +half-destroyed the three corrals. The three new cook wagons, unsheltered, +were denuded of bolts and nuts, and their tarpaulins were hopelessly +ruined. A wheel was missing from each of them and their poles had been +cut through in the middle, the severed ends being found on the roof of +the ranch house three minutes after their crashing descent had +awakened the foreman, who heard the hum and thud of a bullet as he opened +the door. The best grass had been burned off and the outfit had fought +fire on several nights when it should have slept. And the small water +hole near the cook shack, which furnished water for the bunk house, +had been cleared of a dead calf on two mornings. Scouting was of no +avail, for the few remaining horses (which now spent the night in the +bunk house) were as exhausted as their riders. Keeping guard was a +farce, for it had been tried twice, and the guards had fallen asleep; +and, awakened by their foreman at dawn, found that their rifles, +sombreros and even their spurs were missing. With all his hatred for The +Orphan, Sneed was fair-minded enough to give his enemy credit for being +the better man. When the harassing outrages had first begun and the +foreman and his men were comparatively fresh, he had given the matter +his whole attention; and he was no fool. But he had gained nothing but a +sense of defeat, which fact did not improve his peace of mind or +cause him to lose a whit of his anger. Do what he could, plan as he +might, he was beaten, and beaten at every turn. He had to deal with a +man whose cunning and ingenuity were far above the average; a man who, +combining a rare courage and a wonderful accuracy in shooting with +devilish strategy, towered far above the ordinary rustler and outlaw. +Sneed knew that he was absolutely at the mercy of his persistent enemy +and wondered why it was that he did not steal up in the night and kill +the outfit as it slept, which was entirely feasible. Finally, when the +strain had grown too much for even his iron nerves the sheriff was +implored to take command on the ranch and give it his personal +protection. The relations between the sheriff and the ranch were not +as cordial as they might have been, and the asking of this favor was +gall and wormwood to the foreman and his outfit. + +When Shields arrived to take charge of the trouble, accompanied by Charley +and two others, he sought the foreman, for Charley had news of a grave +nature for the Cross Bar-8. + +The foreman ran out of the bunk house and met them near the corral, where +the disagreement had taken place. + +"By the living God, Sheriff!" he cried, white with anger. "This thing +has got to stop if we have to call out the cavalry! We can't get a +decent breakfast--not a whole plate or pan in the house! Our cayuses +and cows are being slaughtered by the score! And as for the rest of our +possessions, they are so full of holes that they whistle when the wind +blows!" + +"So I heard," replied the sheriff. "I'll do my best." + +"We've been doing our best, but what good is it?" cried the foreman. "We +are so plumb sleepy we go to sleep moving about! We dassent show our faces +after dark without being made a target of! Our new wagons are wrecks, the +corrals destroyed and the best grass made us fight for our lives while it +burned! That cursed outlaw has got to be killed, d----n him!" + +"We'll do our best, Sneed," responded Shields. "I reckon we can stop it; +at least we can give you a good night's rest." + +"Where are my five punchers?" Sneed asked; his words bellowed until his +voice broke. "And Bucknell! D----n near dead before you found him above +the cañon, tied up like a package of flour!" + +"Well, Charley can tell you about your men," Shields responded, viewing +the devastation on all sides of him. + +"Well, what about them?" cried the foreman turning to the sheriff's +deputy, anger flashing anew in his eyes. + +"Well," Charley slowly began, "I was taking a short cut this morning, +and when I got to a place about a dozen miles southeast of the mouth +of Bill's cañon, I saw five bodies on the desert. They were your +cow-punchers, and they was so full of arrows that they looked like big +brooms. Apaches, I reckon," he added sententiously. + +Sneed tore his hair and swore when he was not choking. + +"And after I told them to let up on that blasted outlaw's trail!" he +yelled. "Where will it end, between war-whoops and murders? What sort of +a God-forsaken layout is this, anyhow? A man can't stick his nose out of +his own house after dark without having it skinned by a slug! He's a +h--l of a hefty orphant, he is! Poor thing, ain't got no paw or maw to +look after his dear little hide! He needs a regiment of cavalry for a +papa, that's what he needs, and a good strong lariat for a mamma! Orphant! +He's a h--l of a sumptious orphant!" + +"Have you trailed him?" asked the sheriff, having to smile in spite of +himself at the execution on all sides of him, and at the foreman's words. + +"Trailed him!" yelled Sneed, raising on his toes in his vehemence. +"Trailed him! Good God, yes! But what good is it, what can we do when +our cayuses are so dod-gasted tired that they can't catch a tumble bug? +Trailed him! Yes, we trailed him, all right! We trailed him until we fell +asleep in the saddles on our sleeping cayuses! And while we were gone, +d----d if he didn't blow in and smash up our furniture! We trailed him, +all right; just like a lot of cross-eyed, locoed drunken ants! We had to +wake each other up, and he could-a killed the whole crowd of us with a +club! And my punchers who were so cock-sure they'd get him! How in +h--l did they go and mess up with Apaches? They wasn't no fool kids!" + +"The last time we saw them they were leaving the stage to go south after +him," Charley said. "They hadn't got more than ten miles south when they +must have met the Apaches. I have a suspicion that The Orphan had a hand +in that meeting, but how he did it I don't know. But I know that the spot +was lovely for a head-on collision. Punchers riding south would turn the +corner of the chaparral and run into the war party before they knowed +it. And I didn't see The Orphant's body laying around all full of arrows, +neither." + +Sneed's rage was pathetic. He almost frothed, and tears stood in his +blood-shot eyes. His neck and his face were red as fire and the veins +of his neck and forehead stood out like whip-cords, while his face +worked convulsively. He was incapable of coherent speech, his words being +unintelligible growls, a series of snarls, and he could only pace back +and forth, waving his arms and cursing wildly. + +Shields glanced about the ranch and gave a few orders, his men executing +them without delay. One man was to keep guard in the bunk house while +Sneed and his woe-begone men slept. The sheriff and Charley rode away +toward the north to begin the search for the outlaw; and there was to +be no quarter asked or given if his deputies had anything to do with it. + +The remaining deputy busied himself about the ranch in executing a +plan the sheriff had thought out, and his actions were peculiar. First +selecting a position from which a man could command an extensive view of +the premises, he began to pace off distances in all directions. The +place was about eight hundred yards west of the ranch house and bunk +house, and formed one angle of a triangle with them; and from it it was +possible to look in through the windows of both of them. Anyone passing +within good rifle range of either house would show up against the lights +in the windows; and if a man had been covered over with sand on that +particular outlying angle, he could pick off the intruder without being +seen. The Orphan was due to meet with a surprise if he paid his regular +visit the coming night. + +The deputy, after completing his work to his satisfaction found three more +positions where they respectively commanded the corrals, the wagons and +the rear of the bunk house. Then he paced more distances and was careful +that bulky objects interposed in the direct lines between the positions, +this latter precaution being to make it impossible for the deputies to +shoot each other. This done, he went into the house and consulted with +his companion in arms, laughing immoderately about the joke they would +play on the marauder. + +While Shields and Charley vainly searched the plain and while the +deputy paced and thought and paced, and while Sneed and his exhausted +cow-punchers slept as if in death, safely under guard, two men were +riding along the Ford's Station Sagetown Trail well to the east of the +Backbone, chatting amicably and smoking the same brand of tobacco. One of +them sat high up in the air on the seat of a stage coach, from where he +overlooked his six-horse team. His face was wreathed in grins and his +expression was one of beatific contentment. The other cantered alongside +on a dirty brown horse which had a white stocking on the near front +foot, keeping close watch of the surrounding plain, his mind active and +alert. + +Bill Howland laughed suddenly and slapped his thigh with enthusiasm: +"Say, Orphant," he cried, "you are shore raising h--l with that Cross +Bar-8 gang! You has got them so tangled up and miserable that they don't +know where they are! If their brains was money they'd have to chalk up +their drinks. They're about as dangerous as ossified prairie dogs. +They remind me of the feller who kicked a rattlesnake to see if it was +alive, and found out that it was. No, sir, they shore won't die of brain +fever. Why, they ain't had any sleep for a week, have to work double +hard, eat what they can cook in sieve tins, and can't say their soul's +their own after dark. They could get rest if they quit working one +day and all but one get plenty of sleep. Then the other feller could get +his at night. But they don't know enough. Oh, it's rich: the whole +blamed town is laughing at 'em fit to bust. It's the funniest thing +ever happened in these parts since I've been out here." + +Then he suddenly paused: "Say, Sneed sent a puncher to town this morning. +It was that brass-headed, flat-faced Bucknell, what you tied up by the +cañon. He begged the sheriff to swear in a dozen bad men and come out and +protect his foreman and the rest of the outfit. And the pin-headed wart +went and blabbed the whole thing right in front of the Taggert's saloon +crowd, and he shore had to blow, all right. He shore did, and that gang's +always thirsty." + +The horseman flecked the ashes from his cigarette and smiled: "Well?" he +asked, looking up. + +"So Shields took Charley Winter and the two Larkin boys and went out +to the ranch right after the puncher went back. So you want to go easy +to-night or you'll touch off some unexpected fireworks and such. Shields +and his men will stay out there for several days and nights. That'll +give the crazy hens a chance to rest up a bit nights. But you be blamed +careful about them pinwheels and skyrockets or you'll get burned some. +Now, don't you even remember that _I_ told you about it. I wouldn't-a +said nothing at all, seeing as it ain't none of my business, only you +went and got me out of a tight place, and Bill Howland don't forget a +favor, no siree! You gave me a square deal and a ace full on kings with +them animated paint shops, and I'll give you a lift every time I can. +It wouldn't be a bad scheme to watch for me once in a while--I might have +some news for you." + +Bill's offer, plain as it was that he wished to help, not only because +he was in debt to the outlaw, but also because he wished to have safe +trips, touched the horseman deeply. Never in his life had The Orphan +been offered a helping hand from a stranger; all he could hope for was +to get the drop first. He rode on silently, buried in thought, and then, +suddenly flipping his cigarette at a cactus, raised his head and looked +full at the man above him. + +"You play square with me, Bill, and I'll take care of you," he replied. +"The less you say, the less apt you are to put your foot in it. I'll +hold my mouth about your information, for if Shields knew what you've +just said he'd play a tune for you to dance to. The Cross Bar-8 would +shoot you before a day passed. Any time you have news for me, tie your +kerchief to that cactus," pointing to an exceptionally tall plant close +at hand. "Do it on your outward trip. If I see it in time I'll meet you +somewhere on the Sagetown end of the trail on your return. I'm going +back now, so by-by." + +"So long, and good luck," replied Bill heartily. "I'll do the handkerchief +game, all right. Be some cautious about the way you buzz around that +stacked deck of a Cross Bar-8 for the next few days." + +The Orphan wheeled and cantered back, making a detour to the south, for +he had a plan to develop and did not wish to be interrupted by meeting +any more hunting parties. Bill lashed his team and rolled on his way to +Sagetown, a happy smile illuminating his countenance. + +"They can't beat us, bronchs," he cried to his team. "Me and The Orphant +can lick the whole blasted territory, you bet we can!" + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE ORPHAN PAYS TWO CALLS + + +Shortly after nightfall a rider cantered along the stage route, fording +the Limping Water and rode toward the town, whose few lights were bunched +together as if for protection against the spirits of the night. He +soon passed the scattered corrals on the outskirts of Ford's Station +and, slowing to a walk, went carelessly past the row of saloons and the +general store and approached a neat, small house some two hundred yards +west of the stage office. He appeared careless as to being seen; in fact +a casual observer would have thought him to be some cowboy who was +familiar with the town and who feared the recognition of no man. But while +he had no fear, he was alert; under his affected nonchalance nerves +were set for instant action. He was in the heart of the enemy's country, +in the crude stronghold of the Law, and if anything hostile to him +occurred it would happen quickly. And he was familiar with the town, +because he had on more than one occasion ridden through and explored it, +but never before at such an early hour. + +Arriving at his destination he dismounted and, leaving his horse +unrestrained by rope or strap, walked boldly up to the door of the +sheriff's house and knocked. Soon he heard footsteps within and the +door opened wide, revealing him standing hat in hand and smiling. + +"Good evening, ma'am," he said uneasily. + +The sheriff's wife stepped aside and the light fell full on his face. +For an instant she was at a loss, and then the fresh scar on his forehead +and her husband's good description came to her aid. She gasped and +stepped back involuntarily, astonished at his daring. Her act allowed +her companions to see him and the effect was marked. Miss Ritchie sat +upright in expectation, her face beaming, for this was as romantic and +unexpected as she could wish. Mary gasped and dropped her hands to her +side, not knowing what to do or say, while Helen slowly laid her work +aside and leaned forward slightly, regarding him intently, a curious +expression on her face. + +"I only called to ask how the ladies were," he continued slowly, turning +his hat in his hands, apparently not noticing Mrs. Shields' surprise. +"I was afraid they might have--that their recent experience might have +bothered them some." + +Evidently it was to be only a social call, and Mrs. Shields owed something +to this fair-minded and chivalrous man. She smiled kindly, remembering +that the caller was rather well thought of by her husband--he was not a +man for women to fear, whatever else he might be. + +"It is very kind of you," she replied. "Won't you come in?" she asked from +the habit of politeness, hardly expecting that he would do so. + +"Thank you, I will be glad to for a minute," he responded, slowly stepping +into the room, where he suddenly felt awkward and not at all comfortable. + +Helen picked up her work to fasten a thread, and he found himself +marveling at the cleverness of her fingers. Again laying the work +aside, she arose to meet him, a mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes. +It was so unusual to have been saved by an outlaw whom her brother had +tried to capture, and still more unusual to have him dare to call on her +in her brother's own house, especially after her sister's direct cut at +the coach. + +"Won't you be seated?" she asked, indicating her own chair by the light +and taking his hat. When the hat left him he suffered a loss, for he +had nothing to twist and grip. He replied by dropping into the chair, +not even seeing that it was out of range of the door as a compliment +to his hostess. There was no sign of a weapon on him, his holster being +empty; but his blue flannel shirt was unbuttoned, the opening hidden by +his neck-kerchief. He had, however, only put his Colt there to have it +out of sight, and not because he feared trouble. Habitual caution was +responsible for the shirt being open, for he was not even sure that he +would fight if trouble should come upon him, unless the women gave him +a clear field. + +Helen drew a chair from the wall and seated herself in the semi-circle +which faced him. + +"I am very glad that your wound has healed so nicely," she said with a +smile. "We are very sorry that you were hurt in our defense." + +"Oh, it wasn't anything," he quickly replied, smiling deprecatingly. "You +fixed it up so nice that it didn't bother me at all--didn't hurt a bit." + +"I am glad it was no worse," she replied, looking around the circle. +"Grace, Mary, you surely remember Mr.--Mr.----" + +"Please call me by the name you know me by--The Orphan," smiling broadly. +"I've almost forgotten that I ever had any other name." + +"Mr. Orphan--how funny it sounds," she laughed. "It's most original. +Margaret, this is the gentleman to whom we certainly owe our lives. Oh! I +know you don't like to be reminded of it," she went on, answering his +deprecatory gesture, "no doubt you are accustomed to that sort of thing +out here, but in the East such an experience does not often occur." + +"I am glad indeed to know and thank you," said Mrs. Shields, impulsively +extending her hand. "Your bravery has put me still deeper in your +debt. My husband--" her feelings overcame her as she realized that this +was the man who had spared to her that husband, her laughing, burly, +broad-shouldered, big-hearted king of men. Was it possible that this +handsome, confident stripling was his peer? + +Helen relieved the tension: "Mr. Orphan, this is Miss Ritchie, the same +Miss Ritchie who was so badly frightened when she first met you. Perhaps +you'll remember it. And this----" + +"I wasn't! I wasn't one bit frightened!" declared Miss Ritchie hotly, to +The Orphan's great enjoyment. + +"Now, Grace, don't fib--you can't deny it. And this is my sister who was +mean enough to keep her senses when I didn't. We thought highly of you +then, but even more so now. You see, my brother has been talking about +you, he takes a keen interest in you, Mr. Orphan--I declare I can't help +laughing at that name, it sounds so funny; but you will forgive me, won't +you? I knew you would. Well, James has been saying nice things about you, +and so you see we know you better now. He likes you real well, as well +as you will let him, and I'm awful sorry that he is not at home," she +dared, her eyes flashing with delight. "I am sure he would like to meet +you very much; in fact he has said as much. Oh, he speaks of you quite +often." + +The caller flushed, but he was determined to let them think him perfectly +at ease. + +"I am glad that he remembers me," he responded gravely. "I have only +met him once, but I thought he was rather glad to see me. We had a very +enjoyable time together and I found him very pleasant." He was forced +to smile as he recalled the six Apaches in the sheriff's rear. + +"Helen was just saying what awful risks her brother ran," Miss Ritchie +remarked, intently studying the rugged face before her. "But then, he's +a man. If I was a man, I wouldn't be afraid of them!" + +"My, how brave you are, Grace," laughed Mrs. Shields. "I heard quite to +the contrary about the stage ride." + +"Goodness, Margaret!" retorted Miss Ritchie, up in arms at the remark. +"You would have been afraid in that old coach if you had been banged about +in it as I was. The noise was terrible, and that awful driver!" + +The caller smiled at her spirit and then replied to her, serious at once. + +"Well, he does take chances," he said. "But for that matter every man +out in this country has to run risks. Now, I've taken some myself," he +added, smiling quizzically. "But, you know, we get used to them after a +while--we get used to everything but hunger and thirst--and life. I've +even gotten used to being lonesome, and I find that it really isn't so bad +after all. And then, you know, lonesomeness does have its advantages at +times, for it certainly promotes peace, and the cartridges that it saves +are worth considerable. But it took me several years before I could accept +it in that light with any degree of ease." + +Helen laughed merrily, for she most of all appreciated this outcast's +humor, and she liked him better the more he talked. + +"Yes, in time I suppose one does become accustomed to danger," she +replied, "although I'll be frank enough to admit that I don't believe +I could," glancing at her friend. "You risked much by coming here +to-night--just suppose that you had called last night!" + +"The danger was only from a chance recognition in the street," he replied, +smiling, "and it would have been equally dangerous for the man who +recognized me, and perhaps more so, since I was on the lookout--that +balances. I would be the last man anyone would expect to be in Ford's +Station at this time, and once free of the town, I could elude the +pursuers in the dark. And as for the sheriff, I knew that he was not +at home to-night, and, had he been so, I doubt if it would have stayed +me, for he is fair and square, and an unarmed man is safe with him in +his own house. He understands what a truce means, and we had one before." + +Mrs. Shields smiled at him in such warmth that he thanked his stars that +he had played fair out by the bowlder. + +"He told us of that!" Helen exclaimed, laughingly. "It was splendid of +you, both of you. And, do you know, I liked you much better for it. And +I wanted to meet you again and talk with you; I'm dreadfully curious." + +"Helen!" reproved her sister, and, turning from the girl to him, she tried +to explain away her sister's boldness. "You must excuse Helen, Mr.--Mr. +Orphan, because she is not a day older than she was five years ago." + +"Why, Mary!" cried Helen, reproachfully, "how can you say that? Just the +other day you said that I was quite grown up and dignified. I am sure that +Mr.--oh, goodness, there's that name again!" she bewailed. "Why don't you +get another name--that one sounds so funny!" + +The Orphan laughed: "I am not responsible for the name, I had no hand in +it. But, let's see what we can do," he said, counting on his fingers. +"There's Smith, Brown, Jones--Jones sounds well, why not say it?" he asked +gravely. "I am sure that's easier to say and remember." + +"Yes, that _is_ better!" she cried. "Let's see," she said, experimenting. +"Mr. Jones, Mr. Jones--oh, pshaw, I like the other much better. I trust +that I'll get accustomed to it in time, and I certainly should, because I +hear it enough; only then it hasn't that formal Mister before it. And it +is the Mister that causes all the trouble. Now, I'll try it again: I'm +sure that The Orphan (I said that real nicely, didn't I?) I'm sure that +The Orphan doesn't think me lacking in dignity, does he?" she asked, +regarding him merrily, and with a dare in her eyes. + +"Well, now really," he began, and then, seeing the look of warning in her +face, he laughed softly. "Why, really, I think that you must be much more +dignified than you were five years ago." + +"That's such a neat evasion that I hardly know whether to be angry or +not," she retorted, and then turned to Miss Ritchie, who was smiling. + +"Grace," she cried, "for goodness sake, say something! You don't want me +to do all the talking, do you?" and before her friend could say a word +she began a new attack, her eyes sparkling at the fun she was having. + +"What have you done since I told you to behave yourself?" she asked, +assuming a judicial seriousness which was extremely comical. + +He laughed heartily, for she was so droll, her eyes flashing so with +vivacity, and so rarely beautiful that he breathed deep in unconscious +effort to absorb some of the atmosphere she had created. And he was not +alone in his mirth, for Helen's audacity had caused smiles to come to +Miss Ritchie and Mrs. Shields, who were content to take no part in the +conversation, and even Mary forgot to be serious. + +"Well, I haven't had time to do much," he replied in humble apology, +"although I have been occupied in a desultory way on the Cross Bar-8 for +a week, and before that I was quite busily engaged in traveling for my +health. You see, this climate occasionally affects me, and I am forced +to go south or west for a change of air. I was just starting out on my +last trip when I first met you, and I have reason to believe that my +promptness in leaving you saved me much annoyance. But I have cooked +quite a few meals in the interim--and I've learned how mutton should be +broiled, too. I'll have to confess, however, that I have been out late +nights. But then, I'll have a better record to report next time, honest I +will." + +Helen leveled an accusing finger at him: "You spoiled all the cooking +utensils on that ranch, and you scared that poor cook so bad that he fled +in terror of his life and left those poor, tired men to get all their +own meals. Now, that was not right, do you see? The poor cook, he was +almost frightened to death. I am almost ashamed of you; you will have +to promise that you will not do anything like that again." + +"I promise, cross my heart," he replied eagerly, thinking of the five dead +punchers she had been kind enough to overlook. "I solemnly promise never +to scare that cook again," then seeing that she was about to object, he +added, "nor any other cook." + +"And you'll promise not to spoil any more tins, or terrorize that poor +outfit, or burn any more corrals, and everything like that?" she asked +quickly, for she detected a trace of seriousness in his face and wished to +drive home her advantage. If she could get a serious promise from him she +would rest content, for she knew he would keep his word. + +He thought for an instant and then turned a smiling face to her. Seeing +veiled entreaty in her eyes, he suddenly felt a quiet gladness steal over +him. Perhaps she really cared about his welfare, after all, though he +dared not hope for that. He grew serious, and when he spoke she knew that +he had given his word. + +"I promise not to take the initiative in any warfare, nor to harass the +Cross Bar-8 unless they force me to in self-defense," he replied. + +She hid her elation, for she had gained the point her brother had failed +to win, and did not wish to risk anything by showing her feelings. As +if to reward him for yielding to her, she led the conversation from the +personal grounds it had assumed and cleverly got him to talk about the +country and everything pertaining to it. + +He was thoroughly at ease now, and for an hour held them interested by +his knowledge of the trails and the natural phenomena. He told them of +cattle herding, its dangers and sports; and his description of a stampede +was masterly. He recounted the struggles of the first settlers with +the Indians, and even quite extensively covered the field of practical +prospecting, lightening his story with naïve bits of humor and witty +personal opinions which had them laughing heartily. It was not long before +they forgot that they were entertaining, or, rather, being entertained by +an outlaw; and as for himself, it was the most pleasant evening he had +ever known. There was such an air of friendliness and they were so natural +and human that he was stimulated to his best efforts; the barriers had +been broken down. + +"Oh, James says that you are a wonderful shot!" cried Helen, interrupting +his description of a shooting match at a cowboy carnival he had once +attended in a northern town. "He says that no man ever lived who could +hope to beat you with either rifle or revolver, six-shooter, as he calls +it. Won't you let me see you shoot, some day?" + +He laughed deprecatingly: "You ask the sheriff to shoot for you," he +responded. "He can beat me, I'm sure." + +"No, he can't!" she cried impulsively, "because he said he couldn't. That +was why he couldn't get you--" she stopped, horrified at what she had +said. Then, determined to make the best of it, and knowing that excuses +or apologies would make it worse, she hurriedly continued: "He says that +you are so fair and square that he just will not take any advantage of +you. He likes square people, and he isn't afraid to say it, either." + +The Orphan sat silently for half a minute, thinking hard, while Mrs. +Shields looked anxiously at him. Here was peace and happiness. The +sheriff could come and go as he pleased, and every good citizen was +his friend. He had a home--a pleasant contrast to the man who spent his +nights under the stars, not sure of his life from day to day, hounded +from point to point, having no friend, no one who cared for him; he +was just an outlaw, and damned by his fellow men. Then he remembered what +Helen had said before leaving him at the coach. She had faith in him, for +she had told him so--and she would not lie. Her kindness and faith in +him, an outcast, had been with him in his thoughts ever since, and he had +felt the loneliness of his life heavily from that day. He felt a strange +gnawing at his heart and he slowly raised his eyes to her, eagerly +drinking in her radiant beauty, a beauty wonderful to him, for never +before had he seen a beautiful woman. To him women had always been +repellent--and no wonder. He scorned those usually found in the cow +towns. At their best they were only ornaments, and to The Orphan's +mind ornaments were trash. But now he suddenly awoke to the fact that +she was more, that she was all that was worth fighting for, that she +was the missing half of his consciousness. And she herself had given him +heart for the fight, slight as it was, for he was like a drowning man +clutching at straws. But still his cynicism swayed him and made him +fear that it would be a hopeless battle. Again he thought of her brother +and suddenly envied him, and the liking he had felt for the sheriff +became strong and clear. Shields was a white man, just and square. + +He slowly raised his eyes to Mrs. Shields and smiled, which caused her +look of anxiety to clear. + +"The Sheriff is the whitest man in this whole country," he said quietly, +a trace of his mood being in his voice, "and only for that did I play +square with him. In confidence, just to let you know that I am not as +bad as people say, I will tell you that I have had him under my sights +more than once, and that I will never try to harm him while he remains +the man he is. I do not exaggerate when I say that I am naturally a good +judge of men, and I knew what he was in less than a minute after I met him. + +"At this minute he is watching for me, he and Charley Winter and the +Larkin brothers. They are lying quietly out on the plain, waiting for +me to show up between them and the lights of the windows. This is not +guesswork, for I know it. And if it was only the sheriff, and I did show +up over his sights, he would call out and give me a chance to surrender +or fight, and not shoot me down like a dog; the others wouldn't. And +because of my faith in his squareness, and because I above all others +can fully appreciate it at its highest value, I am going to ask you to +remember this, Mrs. Shields: If he ever needs a man to stand at his +back, and I can be found, he has only to let me know. He is compromising +himself with certain people because he has been fair to me, so please +remember what I said. He is the sheriff, and he only does his duty, +for which I cannot blame him. Bill Howland may be able to find me if +trouble should come upon you and yours. + +"Others have hunted for me as if I was a cattle-killing wolf. They have +tracked me and hounded me in gangs, determined to shoot me down at the +first opportunity, and unawares, if possible. They have laid traps for +me, tried to ambush me, and even stooped so low as to poison the water +of a remote water hole with wolf poison--strychnine. They knew that I +occasionally filled my canteen from it. Those who fight me foully I repay +in kind--but never with poison! It is my wits and gunplay against theirs +and against their cowardice and dirty tricks. When I fight, it is not +because I want to, except in the case of Indians, but because I must. +But your husband is a white man, madam, a thoroughbred. He stands so far +above the rest of the men in this country that I have only respect and +liking for him. Can you imagine the sheriff using poison to kill a man? + +"Once when I had finally found a good berth punching cows, once when I had +started out aright, I was discovered. They didn't get me, though they +tried to hard enough. And they call me a murderer because I declined to +remain inactive while they prepared for my funeral! Ever since I was a +lad of fifteen I have fought for my life at every turn, and continually. +I have no friends, not a living soul cares whether I live or die. There is +no one whom I can trust, and no one who trusts me. I have to be ever on +the lookout, and suspicious. Every man is my enemy, and all I have is +my life, worthless as it is. But pride will not let me lose it without +making a fight. + +"I hope the time will come when you can see me shoot, Miss Shields, that +the time will come when I can turn my back to my fellow men without +fearing a shot. Only once have I done that--it was with your brother, and +I enjoyed it immensely. And no one will welcome that day more devoutly +than the outlawed Orphan--the many times murderer--but by necessity: +for I never killed a man unless he was trying to kill me, and I never +will. I know what is _said_, but what I say is the truth. I can only ask +you to believe me, although I realize that I am asking much." + +He arose and walked over to his sombrero, taking it up and turning toward +the door. + +"To-night is the first time in ten years that I have been in a stranger's +house unarmed, and at ease. You have made the evening so pleasant for +me, so delightfully strange, and you all have been so good to talk to me +and treat me white that I find it impossible to thank you as I wish I +could. Words are hopelessly inadequate, and more or less empty, but you +will not lose by it," he said as he opened the door. "Good night, ladies." + +The door closed softly, quickly, and the women heard the cantering +hoofbeats of his horse as they grew fainter and finally died out on the +plain. + +His departure was seemingly unnoticed. They sat in silence for a minute +or more, each lost in her own thoughts, each deeply affected by his +words, staring before them and picturing each as her temperament +guided, the hunted man's dangers and loneliness. Mrs. Shields sat as he +had left her, her chin resting in her hand, seeing only two men in a +chaparral, one of whom was the man she loved. She could hear the +shooting and the war cries, she could see them meet, and clasp hands at +the parting; and her heart filled with kindly pity for the outcast, a +pity the others could not know. Helen, her face full in the light, her +arms outstretched on the table before her and her eyes moist, wondered at +the savage unkindness of men, the almost unbelievable harshness of +man for man. Her head dropped to her arms, and her sister Mary, also +under the spell, wondered at the expression she had seen on Helen's +face. Miss Ritchie, who had scarcely given more than a passing thought +to the sadness in his words, was picturing his fights, drinking in the +dash and courage which had so exalted him in her mind. With all his +loneliness, his danger, she almost envied him his devil-may-care, humorous +recklessness and good fortune, his superb self-confidence and prowess. +Here was a man who fought his own battles, who stood alone against the +best the world sent against him, giving blow for blow, and always +triumphing. + +Mrs. Shields stirred, glanced at Helen's bowed head and sighed: + +"Now I understand why James likes him so. Poor boy, I believe that if he +had a chance he would be a different and better man. James is right; he +always is." + +"I think he is just splendid!" cried Miss Ritchie with a start, emerging +from her dreams of deeds of daring. "Simply splendid! Don't you Helen?" +she asked impulsively. + +Helen arose and walked to the door of her room, turning her face toward +the wall as she passed them: "Yes, dear," she replied. "Good night." + +"Oh, why are men so cruel!" she cried softly as she paused before her +mirror. "Why must they fight and kill one another! It's awful!" + +The door had softly opened and closed and Miss Ritchie's arms were around +her neck, hugging tightly. + +"It _is_ awful, dear," she said. "But they can't kill _him!_ They can't +hurt him, so don't you care. Come on to bed--I have _so_ much to talk +about! Don't put your hair up to-night, Helen--let's go right to bed!" + +Helen impulsively kissed her and pushed her away, her face flushed. + +"You dear, silly goose, do you think I am worrying about him? Why, I had +forgotten him. I'm thinking about James." + +"Yes, of course you are," laughed Miss Ritchie. "I was only teasing you, +dear. But it _is_ too bad that nobody cares anything about him, isn't it, +Helen?" + +Tears trembled in Helen's eyes and she turned quickly toward the bed. +"Well, it's his own fault--oh, don't talk to me, Grace! Poor James, all +alone out there on that awful plain! I'm just as blue as I can be, so +there!" + +"Have a good, long cry, dear," suggested Miss Ritchie. "It does one _so_ +much good," she added as she stepped before the mirror. "But I think he is +just as splendid as he can be--I wish I was a man like him!" + +And while they played at pretending, the man who was uppermost in their +thoughts was playing a joke on the sheriff at the Cross Bar-8 which would +open that person's eyes wide in the morning. + + . . . . . + +On the ranch the darkness was intense and no sounds save the natural +noises of the night could be heard. The sky was overcast with clouds and +occasionally a drop of rain fell. The haunting wail of a distant coyote +quavered down the wind and the cattle in the corral were restless and +uneasy. A mounted man suddenly topped a rise at a walk and then stopped +to stare at the dim lights in the windows of the houses nearly a mile +away. He laughed softly at the foolishness of the inmates trying to +plot for _his_ death by doing something they had not dared to do for a +week. Who would be so foolish as to ride up to those lighted windows +unless he was a tenderfoot? + +Leaping lightly to the grass, he hobbled his horse and then took a bundle +from his saddle, which he strapped on his back and then went quietly +forward on foot, peering intently into the darkness before him. Soon he +dropped to his hands and knees and crawled cautiously and without a +sound. After covering several hundred yards in this manner he dropped +to his stomach and wriggled forward, his eyes strained for dangers. A +quarter of an hour elapsed, and then he heard a sneeze, muffled and +indistinct, but still a sneeze. Avoiding the place from whence it came, he +made a wide detour and finally stopped, chuckling silently. Untying +the bundle he removed it from his back and placed it upon a pile of +sand, which he heaped up for the purpose, and, printing his name in the +sand at its base, retreated as he had come and without mishap. After +searching for a quarter of an hour for his horse he finally found it, +removed the hobbles and vaulted to the saddle. Wheeling, he rode off at +a walk, soon changing to a canter, in the direction of the Limping +Water. When he had gained it he chanced the danger of quicksands and rode +north along the middle of the stream. If he was to be followed, the +probability was that his pursuers would ride south to find where he had +left the water; and they must be delayed as long as possible. + +An hour later daylight swiftly developed and a peculiarly shaped pile +of sand quaked and split asunder as a man arose from it. He shook himself +and spent some time in digging the sand from his pockets and boots and +in cleaning his rifle of it. Then he walked wearily toward the bunk-house, +whose occupants were still lost in the sleep of the exhausted. It was very +tedious to stay awake all night peering at the lights in the distant +windows; and it was very hard to keep one's eyes from closing when lying +in that position, and without any sleep for twenty-four hours. The +sheriff determined to crawl into a bunk as soon as he possibly could and +be prepared for his next vigil. + +As he glanced over the plain he espied something which caused him to stare +and rub his tired eyes, and which immediately banished sleep from his +mind. Running to it, he suddenly stopped and swore: "Hell!" he shouted. + +His wife's blue flower pot sat snugly on the apex of a pile of sand and +from it arose a geranium, which was tied to a supporting stick by a white +ribbon. He had whittled that stick himself, and he knew the flower pot. +Roughly traced in the sand at its base was one word--"Orphan." + +"Margaret's geranium in its blue pot, by God!" cried the sheriff, his +mouth open in amazement. "Well, I'll be d----d!" he exclaimed, running +toward the corral for his horse. "If that son-of-a-gun ain't been out +here under my very nose while I watched for him!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A VOICE FROM THE GALLERY + + +Matters were fast coming to a head as far as the sheriff and the Cross +Bar-8 were concerned. The loss of the five men who had won the friendship +of their fellows, the reign of terror caused by the outlaw, the loss +of their cook, the devastation and the extra work had only deepened the +hatred which the members of the outfit held for The Orphan; and it went +farther than The Orphan. + +Sneed was not long in learning what took place at the stage and of the +driver's loyalty to the outlaw, because Bill would talk; and the working +of his mind was the same as that of his men, for it followed the line of +least resistance. Questions of the nature of arraignments, and which +were answerable by the outfit in only one way, constantly presented +themselves in the minds of the men. They asked themselves why it was +that a man of the sheriff's proven courage, marksmanship and cleverness +should fail to get the man who so terrorized the ranch. Why was the +sheriff so apparently reluctant to take up the chase in earnest and push +it to a finish? Why was he so firm against the assistance of the ranchmen? +Why did he keep to his determination to allow no lynch law when the +evil was so great and the danger so pressing? And he was prepared to go +to great lengths to see that his orders were not disobeyed, as proven by +the scene at the corral. Why could he not have overlooked one lynching +party when property was being destroyed and lives in danger? And why had +the outrages suddenly ceased when Shields took charge of the defense of +the ranch?--there had been no molestation, not a shot had been fired, +not a cow killed. And how was it that a flower pot, which Shields had +admitted as belonging to his wife, had been placed at a point hardly two +hundred yards in front of the peace officer as he lay on guard? It was +true that it was out of line of him and the lights, but that could be +explained by events. From whom did The Orphan learn of the trap set for +him, and all of its details, even to the placing of the men, enabling him +to avoid the eager deputies and choose the position occupied by the +sheriff when he had so recklessly flaunted his contempt from a pile +of sand? + +The cowboys were naturally enough warped and prejudiced because of +their blind rage and hatred, and the questions which ran so riotously +through their minds found their answers waiting for them; in fact, the +answers induced the questions, and each recurrence gave them added +weight until they ceased to be questions and became, in reality, +statements of facts. Bill had talked too much when he had told in +careful detail of the attentions shown The Orphan by the sheriff's +sister; and to minds eager for confirmation of their suspicions this was +the crowning proof of the double dealing of the sheriff. And to make +matters worse, Tex Williard, who was as unscrupulous a man as ever wore +the garb of honesty, had tried to force his attentions on Helen when +she rode for exercise. His ideas of women had been developed among +those who frequented frontier bar-rooms, and he was enraged at his +rebuff, which had been sharp and final. She actually preferred a murdering +outlaw to a hardworking cowboy! His profane oratory as to the collusion, +or at least passive sympathy between the sheriff and the outlaw found +eager ears and receptive minds awaiting the torch of initiative, and it +was not long before low-voiced consultations began to plan a drastic +course of action. Credit must be given to Sneed, because he knew only of +the natural discontent and nothing of what was in the wind. Had he +known what was brewing he would have stamped it out with no uncertain +force, for he was wise enough to realize the folly of increasing the +antagonism which already was held by Ford's Station for his ranch. + +At first the conspirators had hopes of undermining Shields among the +citizens of the town, not knowing the feeling there as well as their +foreman knew it, but they were wise enough to go about it cautiously; +and the returns justified their caution, for they found the inhabitants +of Ford's Station unassailably loyal to the peace officer. To accuse +him, either directly or by suggestion, of double dealing would be to array +the two score inhabitants of the town on his side in hot and belligerent +partisanship, and this they wished to avoid by all means, for they had no +stomach for such a war as might easily follow. They then hit upon what +appeared to them to be an excellent plan, inasmuch as it was indirect and +would give the results desired; and the medium was to be the driver. + +The talkative one had shown more than passing friendliness for The +Orphan, and they had his boasting words for it and he could not deny it, +for Bill was very proud of the part he had played on that memorable day, +and he took delight in recounting the conversation he had held with the +outfit at the coach--and he had a way of adding to the tartness of his +repartee in its repetition. Tex Williard reasoned from experience that it +would not appear at all strange and unusual for Bill to be called to +account for his friendliness and assistance to the outlaw and for his +contemptuous words concerning the cowboys if it was done by some member or +members of the ranch as a personal affair and without the appearance +of being sanctioned by the foreman. And through the driver he hoped to +strike at Shields, for the sheriff would not remain passive in such an +event; and once he was drawn into a brawl, hot tempers or accident +would be the plea if he should be killed. The apologies and remorse of +the sorrowful participants could be profound. And thus was cold-blooded +murder planned by the very men who reviled The Orphan because they claimed +he was a murderer, and who cried aloud for his death on that charge. + +Tex was the ringleader and in his own way he was not without cunning, +and neither was he lacking in daring. He selected his assistants for the +game with cool, calculating judgment. The three he finally decided upon +were reckless and not lacking in intelligence and physical courage for +such work. After having made his selection he sounded them carefully +and finally made his plans known, going into minute rehearsal of every +phase and detail of the game with thoughtful care and studied sequence. +When he believed them to be well drilled he fixed upon the time and place +and caused word to get to Bill that he might expect trouble for his +assistance to The Orphan, and for having had a hand in sending the five +cowboys to their deaths. The news immediately reached the ears of the +sheriff, who determined to see that Bill received no injury at the hands +of the Cross Bar-8. He quietly made up his mind to be near the stage +route on the days when Bill drove through the defile of the Backbone, +and to be within call if he should be needed. If he should think it +necessary, he would even go so far as to become a regular passenger +in the coach until the trouble died down. To the masterly driving and +cool-headed courage of Bill no less than to the daring and accuracy of +The Orphan was the sheriff indebted for the lives of his sisters; and +the protection of Bill clove close to the line of duty, and not one +whit less to the line of law and order. + +Bill laughed and boasted and made a joke of the thought of any danger +from the malcontents of the Cross Bar-8, and flatly refused to allow the +sheriff to ride with him. He talked volubly until the agent profanely +sent him on his journey, and he tore through the streets of the town in +the same old way. He forded the Limping Water in safety and crossed the +ten mile stretch of open plain without a sign of trouble. As he left the +water of the stream the sheriff started after him from town, intending to +be not far behind him when he entered the rough country. + +When Bill plunged into the defile through the Backbone he began to grow a +little apprehensive, and he intently watched each stretch of the road as +each successive turn unfolded it to his sight. His foot was on the brakes +and he was braced to stop the rush of his team at the first glimpse of an +obstruction, or to tear past the danger if he could. One coyote yell and +one snap of the whip would send the team wild, for they remembered well. + +All was nice until he neared the place where The Orphan had held him up +for a smoke, and it was there the trouble occurred. As he swung around +the sharp turn he saw four cowboys bunched squarely in the center of the +trail and at such a distance from him that to attempt to dash past them +would be to lay himself open to several shots. They had him covered, and +as he grasped the situation Tex Williard rode forward and held up his hand. + +"Stop!" Tex shouted. "Get down!" + +"What in thunder do you want?" Bill asked, setting the brakes and stopping +his team, wonder showing on his face. + +"Yu!" came the laconic reply. "Get down!" + +"What's eating you?" Bill asked in no uncertain inflection. Had Tex been +less imperative and kept the insulting tone out of his words Bill might +have had time to become afraid, but the sting made him leap over fear to +anger; and genuine anger takes small heed of fear. + +Tex motioned to one of his men, who instantly leaped to the ground and +ran to the turn, where he knelt behind a rock, his rifle covering the back +trail. Then Tex returned to the driver. + +"Curiosity is eating me, yu half-breed!" he cried. "GET DOWN! d----n yu, +GET DOWN!! Don't wait all day, neither, do yu hear? What th' h--l do yu +think I'm a-talkin' for!" + +"Well, I'll be blamed!" ejaculated Bill, wrapping the reins about the +back of his seat. "Anybody would think you was the boss of the earth to +hear you! You ain't no road agent, you're only a fool amature with more +gall than brains! But I'll tell you right here and now that if you _are_ +playing road agent, I wouldn't be in your fool boots for a cool million. +And if you are joking you are showing d----d bad taste, and don't you +forget it. You're holding up a sack of U. S. mail, and if you don't know +what that means----" + +"Shut yore face! Yu talk when I ask yu to!" shouted Tex as the driver +dropped to the ground. "But since yore so unholy strong on th' palaver, +suppose yu just explains why yu are so all-fired friendly to Th' Orphant? +Suppose yu lisp why yu take such a peculiar interest in his health and +happiness. Come now, out with it--this ain't no Quaker meeting." + +"Warble, birdie, warble!" jeered one of the cowboys. "Sing, yu ---- ----!" + +"We're shore waitin', darlin'," jeered another. "Tune up an' get started, +Windy." + +"Well, since you talks like that," cried Bill, stung to reckless fury at +the cutting contempt of the words, "you can go to h--l and find out from +your fool friends!" he shouted, beside himself with rage. "Who are you to +stick me up and ask questions? It's none of your infernal business who +I like, you hog-nosed tanks! Why didn't you bring some decent men with +you, you flat-faced skunks? Why didn't you bring Sneed! White men would +a told you just what you are if you asked them to help you in your dirty +work, wouldn't they? Even a tin-horn gambler, a crooked cheat, would +give me more show for my money than you have, you bowlegged coyotes! +Ain't you man enough to turn the trick alone, Williard? Can't you play +a lone hand in ambush, you bob-tailed flush of a bad man! You're only a +lake-mouthed, red-headed wart of a two-by-four puncher, that's what----" + +Tex had been stunned by surprise at such an outburst from a man whom he +had always regarded as woefully lacking in courage. Then his face flamed +with an insane rage at the taunting insults hurled venomously at him and +he sprang to action as though he had been struck. It would have been bad +enough to hear such words from an equal, but from Bill! + +"Yu cur!" he yelled as he leaped forward into the tearing sting of the +driver's whip, which had been hanging from the wrist. + +"You're the fourth dog I cut to-day," Bill said, jerking it back for +another try. + +Tex shivered with pain as the lash cut through his ear, as it would have +cut through paper, and screamed his words as he avoided the second blow. +"I'll show yu if I am man enough! I'll kill yu for that, d----n yu!" + +As Tex threw his arms wide open to clinch, Bill leaped aside and drove +his heavy fist into the cowman's face as he passed, knocking him sidewise +against the wall of the defile; and then struggled like a madman in the +toils of two ropes. He was a Berserker now, a maniac without a hope +of life, and he screamed with rage as he tore frantically at the rough +hair ropes, wishing only to destroy, to kill with his bare hands. The blow +had not been well placed, being too high for the vital point, but it had +smashed the puncher's nose flat to his face and one eye was fast losing +its resemblance to the other. Tex staggered to his feet and returned +to the attack, striking savagely at the face of the bound man. Bill +avoided the blow by jerking his head aside and snarled like a beast +as he drove the heel of his heavy boot into his enemy's stomach. Then +everything grew black before his eyes and a roaring sound filled his +ears. The rope slackened and the men who had thrown him head-first on a +rock leaped from their horses and ran to him. + +When his senses returned he found himself bound hand and foot and under a +spur of rock which projected from the bank of the cut. His face was cut +and bruised and his scalp laid open, but through the blood which dripped +from his eyebrows he vaguely saw Tex, bent double and rocking back and +forth on the ground, intoned moans coming from him with a sound like that +made by a rasp on the edge of a box. + +As Bill's brain cleared he became conscious of excruciating pains in +his head, as if hammers were crashing against his skull. Glancing upward +he saw that a rope ran from his neck to the rock, over it and then to +the pommel of a saddle, and his face twitched as its meaning sifted +through his mind. Then he thought of the time The Orphan had held him +up in the defile--how unlike these men the outlaw was! If he would only +come now--what joy there would be in the flashing of his gun; what ecstasy +in the confusion, panic, rout that he would cause. He was dazed and +the throbbing, heavy, monotonous pain dulled him still more. He seemed +to be apart from his surroundings, to be an onlooker and not an actor +in the game. He wondered if that whip was his: yes, it must be . . . +certainly it was. He ought to know his own whip . . . of course it was +his. He regarded Tex curiously . . . there had been Indians, or was it +some other time? What was Tex doing there on the ground? He struggled to +think clearly, and then he knew. But the deadening pain was merciful +to him, it made him apathetic. Was he going to die? Perhaps, but what +of it? He didn't care, for then that pain wouldn't beat through him. Tex +looked funny. . . . He closed his eyes wearily and seemed to be far +away. He _was_ far away, and, oh, so tired! + +Tex finally managed to gain his feet and straighten up and revealed his +face, bloody and swollen and black from the blow. His words came with a +hesitation which suggested pain, and they were mumbled between split and +swollen lips. + +"Now, d----n yu!" he cried, brokenly, staggering to the helpless man +before him. "Now mebby yu'll talk! Why did yu help Th' Orphant? If yu +lie yu'll swing!" + +Bill swayed and his eyes opened, and after an interval he slowly and +wearily made reply, for his senses had returned again. + +"He saved my life," he said, "and I'll help--anybody for that." + +"Oh, he did, did he?" jeered Tex. "An' why? That ain't his way, helpin' +strangers at his own risk. Why?" + +"There was women--in the coach." + +"Oh, there was, hey?" ironically remarked Tex. "Mebby he wanted 'em all +to himself, eh?" + +"He's a white man, not a cur." + +"He's a cub of th' devil, that's what he is!" Tex cried. "He ain't no +orphant, not by a d----d sight--th' devil's his father, an' all hell is +his mother. Now, I want an answer to this one, and I want it quick: no lie +goes. Why don't th' sheriff get busy an' camp on his trail? What interest +has th' sheriff an' Th' Orphant in each other? Come on, out with it!" + +"I don't know," replied Bill, wishing that the sheriff was at hand to make +an appropriate answer. "Ask him, why don't you?" he asked, stretching his +neck to ease the hairy, bristling clutch of the lariat. + +"Oh, yu don't, an' yore still cheeky, eh?" cried the inquisitor. "An' yu +want yore d----d neck stretched, do yu?" + +He motioned to the man on the horse at the end of the rope and Bill +straightened up and daylight showed under his heels. As he struggled there +was an interruption from the man who covered the back trail: "'Nds up!" +he cried. "Don't move!" + +Tex signalled for Bill to be let down and ran backward to the opposite +side of the defile until he could see around the turn; and he discovered +the sheriff, who sat quietly under the gun of the cowboy. + +"Stop! Don't yu even wiggle!" cried the guard. "I'll blow yore head off +at the first move!" he added in warning; and for once in his eventful life +Shields knew that he was absolutely helpless, for the time, at least. +His hands were clasped over his sombrero, for it would be tiresome to hold +them out, and he felt that he might have need of fresh, quick muscles +before long. + +"All right, all right, bub," he responded in perfect good nature, +apparently. "Don't get nervous and let that gun go off, for it's shore +your turn now," he added, smiling his war smile. "Any particular thing you +want, or are you just practicing a short cut to eternity?" + +"I want yu to stay just like yu are!" snapped the man with the drop. "And +yu keep yore mouth shut, too!" + +"Since it's your last wish, why, it goes," replied the sheriff, ignoring +the command for silence. "Got any message for your folks? Any keep-sakes +you'd like to have sent back East? Give me the address of your folks and +I'll send them your last words, too." + +"That's enough, Sheriff," said Tex, moving cautiously forward behind his +leveled Colt. "I'll do all th' talkin' that's necessary; yu just listen +for a while." + +"Well, well," replied the sheriff, grinning and simulating surprise. "If +here ain't Tex Williard, too! What's your pet psalm, sonny? Good God, +what a face!" + +"What's that got to do with this?" asked Tex, intently watching for war. + +"Oh, nothing, nothing at all," replied the sheriff. "But, Lord, that +cayuse of yours can shore kick! Was you tickling it? They do go off like +that some times. Any of your nose coming out the back of your head yet? +But to reply to your touching inquiry, I'll say that the psalm might +work in handy after while, that's all. If you'll only tell me, I'll see +that it is sung over your grave. But, honest, how did you get that face?" + +"That'll just about do for yu!" cried the cowboy, angrily. "An' sit still, +yu!" he added. + +"Say, bub," confidentially said Shields, "my stomach itches like blazes. +Can't I scratch it, just once?" + +"No! Think I'm a fool!" yelled Tex, his finger tightening on the trigger. +"Yu sit still, d----n yu!" + +"Well, I only wanted to see just how much of a fool you really are," +grinned the sheriff exasperatingly. "Judging from your present position +I must say that I thought you didn't have any sense at all, but now I +reckon you've got a few brains after all. But suppose you scratch it +for me, hey? Just rub it easy like with your left paw." + +Tex swore luridly, too tense to realize what a fool the sheriff was making +of him. He could think of only one thing at a time, and he was thinking +very hard about the sheriff's hands. + +"Tut, tut, don't take it so hard," jeered the sheriff, smiling pleasantly. +"Now that I know that you are some rational, suppose you tell me the joke? +What's the secret? Who skinned his shin? What in thunder is all this +artillery saluting me for?" + +"Since yu want to know, I'll tell yu, all right," replied Tex. "Why are yu +an' Th' Orphant so d----d thick? Don't be all day about it?" + +"You d----d excuse!" responded the sheriff. "You mere accident! As the +poet said, it's none of your business! Catch that?" + +"Yes, I caught it," retorted Tex. "I reckon we needs a new sheriff, an' +d----d soon, too," he added venomously. + +"Well, people don't always get what they need," replied Shields easily. +"If they did, you would get yours right now, and good and hard, too," he +explained, making ready to put up the hardest fight of his life. Three +men had him covered, and he knew they would all shoot if he made a move, +for they had placed themselves in a desperate situation and could not back +out now. He knew that never before had he been in so tight a hole, but he +trusted to luck and his own quickness to crawl out with a whole skin. If +he was killed, he would have company across the Great Divide; of that +he was certain. + +"I reckon I'll take yore guns for a while, just to be doin' somethin'," +Tex said as he advanced a step. "Mebby that itch will go away then." + +"I reckon you'll be a d----n sight wiser if you don't force matters, for +they are purty well forced now," Shields replied. "No man gets my guns' +butts first without getting all mussed up inside. You'll certainly be +doing something if you try it." + +"Well, then," compromised Tex, "answer my question!" + +"And no man gets an answer to a question like that in words," the sheriff +continued, as if there had been no interruption. "But I'll give you and +your white-faced bums a chance for your lives--and I don't wonder The +Orphan shot up Jimmy, neither. Put up your wobbling guns and get out of +this country as fast as God will let you! If you ever come back I'll fill +you plumb full of lead! It's your move, Lovely Face, and the quicker you +do it the better it'll be for your health." + +[Illustration: "'The less you count the longer you'll live!' said Shields" +(See page 192.)] + +"Oh, I don't know about that," replied Tex with a leer and swagger. "To a +man up a tree it looks like yu are up agin a buzz saw this time." + +"To a man on the ground it looks like your tin buzz saw has hit the +hardest knot it ever struck, and you'll feel the jar purty soon, too," +Shields countered, his hazel eyes beginning to grow red. "You put up that +gun and scoot before I blow your d----d head off!" + +"I'll give yu 'til I counts three to answer my question," Tex said, +ignoring the advice. "One!" + +"The less you count the longer you'll live," said Shields, gripping his +horse with his knees in readiness to jump it sideways. + +"Two!" + +"Afternoon, gents," said a pleasant voice up above them, and all jumped +and looked up. As they did so Shields jerked his guns loose and laughed +softly: "That itch has plumb gone away," he said. "It's a new deal," he +exulted, his face wreathed in grins. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +A NEW DEAL ALL AROUND + + +On the edge of the bank, thirty feet above them, a man squatted on his +heels, his forearms resting easily on his knees. In each hand was a +long-barreled Colt, held in a manner oppressively businesslike. One of +the guns was leveled at the stomach of the man who guarded Bill, and +who still held the rope; the other covered the man who had baited the +sheriff. Shields took care of the remaining two. One of the newcomer's +eyes was half closed, squinting to keep out the smoke which curled up +from the cigarette which protruded jauntily from a corner of his mouth. +If anything was needed to strengthen the air of pertness of the man +above it was supplied by his sombrero, which sat rakishly over one +ear. A quizzical grin flickered across his face and the cigarette bobbed +recklessly when he laughed. + +"Was you counting?" he asked of Tex in anxious inquiry. "And for God's +sake, who stepped on your face?" + +Tex made no reply, for his astonishment at the interruption had given way +to the iron hand of fear which gripped him almost to suffocation. In +the space of one breath he had been hurled from the mastery to defeat; +from a good fighting chance, with all the odds on his side, to what +he believed to be certain death, for to move was to die. Had it been +anyone but The Orphan who had turned the scale he would have hazarded a +shot and trusted to luck, for his gun was in his hand; but The Orphan's +gunplay was as swift as light and never missed at that distance, and +The Orphan's reputation was a host in itself. He had threatened the +sheriff with death, he had used Bill worse than he would have used a +dog, and now his cup of bitterness was full to overflowing. Above him a +pair of cruel gray eyes looked over a sight into his very soul and a +malevolent grin played about the thin, straight lips of the man who +had killed Jimmy, who had led his five friends to an awful death, and +who had instilled terror night after night into the hearts of seven good +men. His mind leaped back to a day ten years before, and what he saw +caused his face to blanch. Ten years of immunity, but at last he was to +pay for his crime. Before him stood the son of the man he had been +foremost in hanging, before him stood the man he had cruelly wronged. +His nerve left him and he stood a broken, trembling coward, a living lie +to the occupation he had made his own, an insult to his dress and his +companions. Had he by some miracle been given the drop he could not +have pulled the trigger. He now had no hope for mercy where he had +denied it. He had played a good hand, but he had made no allowance for +the joker, and no blame to him. + +No sooner had The Orphan spoken and the sheriff discovered that he had +things safely in his hands, than Shields had leaped to the ground and +quickly disarmed his opponents, tossing the captured weapons to the top +of the bank near the outlaw. Then he folded his arms and waited, laughing +silently all the while. + +As soon as Shields had disposed of the last gun, The Orphan gave his whole +attention to the man who was guarding Bill, and that person changed the +course of his hand just in time. + +"No, I wouldn't try to use that gun, neither, if I was you," The Orphan +said, still smiling. "You can just toss it up on the bank over your +head--that's right. Now drop that rope--I'm surprised that you didn't +do it before. When you get Bill all untangled from those fixings come +right around here, where I can see how nice you all look in a bunch. +It'll take you one whole minute to get out of sight around that turn, so I +wouldn't try any running." + +The Orphan was ignorant of the condition of Bill's face, since he had only +seen the driver's back as he had crawled to the edge of the bank, and now +the bend in the opposite wall just hid Bill from his sight. So he gave +no great attention to the driver, but turned to the sheriff and laughed. + +"I knew that you would pull through, Sheriff," he said, "but I couldn't +help having a surprise party; I'm a whole lot fond of surprise parties, +you know. And it's shore been a howling success, all right." + +"You have a very pleasant way of making yourself useful," Shields +replied. "From the holes you've pulled me out of within the past six +weeks you must have a poor impression of me. But seeing that you have +reason to laugh at me, I accept your apology and bid you welcome. It's +all yours." Then he glanced quickly up the trail and his face went red +with anger. "Hell!" he cried in amazement. + +The Orphan looked in the direction indicated and he leaped to his feet +in sudden anger at what he saw. A man, followed by a cowboy, staggered +and stumbled drunkenly along the trail toward them, his face a mass of +cuts and bruises and blood. His hair was matted with blood and dirt, and a +red ring showed around his neck. His hands opened and shut convulsively +and he made straight as he could for Tex, who shrank back involuntarily. + +"My God! It's Bill!" cried The Orphan, hardly able to believe his eyes. + +"You're the cur _I_ want!" Bill muttered brokenly to Tex, straightening up +and becoming rapidly steadier under the stimulus of his rage. "You're the +---- _I_ want, d----n you!" he repeated as he slowly advanced. "It's my +turn now, you cur! Lynch me, would you? Lynch me, eh? Tried to hit me when +I was tied, eh? Sicked your dogs on me, eh? Keep still, d----n you--you +can't get away!" he cried as Tex moved backward. + +"Stand to it like a man, or I'll blow your head off!" cried The Orphan +from his perch. "Go on, Bill!" + +"You said you wanted me, didn't you? Do you still want me?" he asked, not +hearing The Orphan's words. "Are you still curious?" he asked, backing +Tex into a corner. + +"Hash him up, Bill!" cried the man above, and then, "Hey, wait a minute--I +want to see this," he added as he slid down the bank. "Go ahead with the +slaughter--push his head off!" + +Bill's one hundred and eighty pounds of muscle and rage suddenly hurled +itself forward behind a huge fist and Tex hit the bank and careened into +the dust of the trail, unconscious before he had moved. + +"I told you you wasn't man enough to play a lone hand!" yelled the driver +as he leaped after his victim. But he was stopped by the sheriff, who +sprang forward and deflected him from his course. + +"That's enough--no killing!" Shields cried, regaining his balance and +swiftly interposing himself between the driver and Tex. + +Bill didn't hear him, for he had just caught sight of the man who had told +him to warble, and he lost no time in getting to him. A few quick blows +and the enraged driver left his second victim face down in the dirt and +passed on to the man who had held the rope. + +"Hurrah for Bill!" yelled The Orphan, hopping first on one foot and +then on the other in his joy. "Set 'em up in the other alley! I didn't +know you had it in you, Bill! Good boy!" he shouted as Bill clinched with +the third cowboy. "Oh, that was a beauty! Right on the nose--oh, what +a whopper to get on the jaw! Whoop her up! Fine, fine!" he laughed as +Bill dropped his man. "'And subsequent proceedings interested _him_ +no more!' Next!" he cried as Bill wheeled on the last of the group. "Eat +him up, Bill!--that's the way! Just above the belt for his--Good! All +down!" he yelled madly as Bill, drawing his arm back from the stomach of +the falling puncher, sent a swift uppercut hissing to the jaw. "You +lifted him five feet, Bill," The Orphan exulted as Bill wheeled for more +worlds to conquer. + +"Where's the rest of the gang?" savagely yelled the driver, looking twice +at The Orphan before he was sure of his identity. "Where's the rest of +'em?" he shouted again, running around the bend in hot search. "Come +out and fight, you cowards!" they heard him cry, and straightway the +outlaw and the guardian of the law clung to each other for support as +they cried with joy. + +As Bill hurried back to the field of carnage one of his victims was +mechanically striving to gain his hands and knees, to go down in a +quivering heap by a blow from the insane victor. As Bill drew back +his foot to finish his work, Shields broke from his companion and leaped +forward just in time to hurl Bill back several steps. "D----n you!" +he cried, standing over the prostrate figure, "If you hit another man +while he's down I'll trim you right! Cool down and get some sense before +I punch it into you!" + +The Orphan, leaning limply against the bank of the defile, was making +foolish motions with his hands, which still held the Colts, and was +babbling idiotically, tears of laughter streaming down his face and +dripping from his chin. His eyes were closed and he was bent over, rocking +to and fro against the wall. + +"Oh, Lord!" he sobbed senselessly. "Oh, Lord, oh, Lord! Let me die in +peace! Take him away, take him away! Let me die in peace!" + +"I'm a fine sight to hit Sagetown, ain't I?" yelled Bill, keeping keen +watch on the four prostrate punchers. "They'll think I was licked! +They'll point to my face and head and swear that some papoose kicked +the stuffing outen me! That's what they'll do! But I'll show them, all +right! I'll just take my game with me and prove that I am the best man, +that's what I'll do! I'll pile 'em in the coach and lug 'em with me!" +grabbing, as he finished, one of the men by the foot and dragging him +toward the stage. It took The Orphan and Shields several strenuous +minutes to dissuade him from his purpose. Shields placed his fingers on +the bones of Bill's hand in a peculiar grip, and the driver loosened +his hold without loss of time. + +"You go back to town and get fixed up," ordered the sheriff. "I'll take +your team out of this and turn them around, and then come back for you. +Charley can make the trip if you can't. I would do it myself, only I've +got to tell Sneed that he's shy four more men." + +"I'll turn 'em around myself--I ain't hurt," asserted Bill with decision. +"And when I get patched up I'll make the trip, Pop Westley or no Pop +Westley. And I'll lick the whole blamed town, too, if they get fresh +about my face! I'm a fighter from Fightersville, I am! I'm a man-eating +bad-man, I am! I can lick anything that ever walked on hind legs, I can!" +and he glared as if anxious to prove his words. + +After the cowboys regained consciousness and got so they could stand, the +sheriff lined them up with their backs to the wall and gave them the guns +which The Orphan had obtained for him. The outlaw held them covered while +the sheriff told them what they were, and he wound up his lecture with +instructions and a warning. + +"Get out of this country and don't never come back!" he told them. "I +don't care where you go, so long as you go right now. If you even show +your faces in these parts again I'll shoot first and talk after." + +"Same here!" endorsed The Orphan, frowning down his desire to laugh at +the wrecks in front of him. + +"I'll kill you next time!" shouted Bill, prancing uneasily. + +"The cayuses are yours," continued the sheriff. "I'll settle with Sneed if +he has the gall to ask about them. Now git!" + +Tex stared first at the sheriff and then at The Orphan and Bill as if +doubting his ears. He was ten years nearer the grave than he had been +before The Orphan had interrupted his counting. In less than half an hour +he had gone through hell, and now he suddenly burst into tears from the +reaction and staggered to his horse, which he finally managed to mount, a +nervous wreck. "Oh, God!" he moaned, "Oh, God!" + +The others stared at him in amazement until he had turned the bend, and +then his companions slowly followed him and were lost to sight. + +"D----n near dead from fright!" ejaculated the sheriff. "I never saw +anybody go to pieces so bad!" + +"He shore lost his nerve all right, all right," responded The Orphan. +Then he turned to where Bill stood looking after them: "Bill, you're all +right--you can fight like h--l!" + +Bill slowly turned and grinned through the blood: "Oh, that wasn't +nothing--you should oughter see me when I get real mad!" + + . . . . . + +Two men rode side by side after a lurching coach on their way toward the +Limping Water, both buried in thought at what the driver had told them. +As they emerged from the defile and left the Backbone behind, the elder +looked keenly, almost affectionately, at his companion and placed a kindly +hand on the shoulder of the man who had turned the balance, breaking the +long silence. + +"Son, why don't you get a job punching cows, or something, and quit your +d----d foolishness?" he bluntly asked. + +The younger man thought for a space, and a woman's words directed his +reply: + +"I've thought of that, and I'd like to do it," he said earnestly. "But, +pshaw, who will give me a try in this country?" he asked bitterly. Then +he added softly: "And I won't leave these parts, not now." + +"You won't have to leave the country," replied the sheriff. "Why not try +Blake, of the Star C?" he asked. "Blake is a shore square man, and he's a +good friend of mine, too." + +"Yes, I reckon he is square," replied The Orphan. "But he won't take no +stock in me, not a bit." + +"Tell him that you're a friend of mine, and that I sent you to punch for +him, and see," responded Shields, examining his cinch. + +"Do you mean that, Sheriff?" the other cried in surprise. + +"Hell, yes!" answered Shields gruffly. "I'll give you a note to him, and +if you watch your business you'll be his right-hand man in a month. I +ain't making any mistake." + +"By God, I'll do it!" cried the outlaw. "You're all right, Sheriff!" + +"Well, I don't know about that," replied Shields, grinning broadly. "Mebby +I just can't see the use of us shooting each other up, and that is what it +will come to if things go on as they are, you know. I'd a blamed sight +rather have you behaving yourself with Blake than bothering me with your +fool nonsense and raising the devil all the time. Why, it's got so that +every place I go I sort of looks for flower pots!" + +The Orphan laughed: "I shore had a fine time that night!" + +When half way to the Limping Water the sheriff said good-by to Bill and +wheeled, facing in the direction of the Cross Bar-8. + +"Orphan, you wait for me at the ford," he said. "I'm going up to break the +news to Sneed, and I'll get paper and pencil while I'm there, and write a +note to Blake. I'll get back as quick as I can--so long." + +"So long, and good luck," replied The Orphan, heartily shaking hands with +his new friend. + +Shields loped away and arrived at the ranch as Sneed was carrying water +to the cook shack. + +"Hullo, Sneed! Playing cook?" he said, pulling in to a stop. + +"I'll play _on_ the cook if I ever get my hands on him," replied Sneed, +setting the pail down. "Well, what's new? Seen Tex and the other three? +I'll play on _them_, too, when they gets home! Off playing hookey from +work when we all of us aches from double shifts--oh, just wait till I sees +'em sneaking in to bed! Just wait!" + +"You ought to give 'em all a good thrashing, they need it," replied the +sheriff, and then he asked: "Got any paper, and a pencil?" He wanted his +needs supplied before he broke the news, for then he might not get them. + +"Shore as you live I have," answered the foreman, picking up the pail and +starting toward the bunk-house. "Come in and wet the dust--it's hot out +here." + +"Let me have the paper first--I want to scrawl a note before I forget +about it," the sheriff responded as he seated himself on a bunk and looked +critically about him at the bullet-riddled walls and pictures. + +Sneed handed him an ink bottle and placed a piece of wrapping paper and +a corroded pen on the table. + +"That paper ain't for love letters, the ink is mud, and the pen's a +brush, but I reckon you can make tracks, all right," the host remarked as +he pushed a bench up to the table for his guest. "And if them punchers +don't make tracks for home purty lively, I'll salt their hides and peg +'em on the wall to cure," he grumbled, rummaging for a bottle and cup. +When he placed the tin cup on the table he grinned foolishly, for it +was plugged with a cork. "D----d outlaw!" he grunted. + +"There," remarked the sheriff, fanning the note in the air. "That's done, +if it'll ever dry." + +"Blow on it," suggested Sneed, and then smiled. + +"Here, wait a minute," he said, stepping to the door, where he scooped up +a handful of sand. "Throw this on it--it can't get no muddier, anyhow." + +Shields carefully folded the missive and tucked it in his hip pocket, and +then he looked up at the foreman. + +"Sneed," he slowly began, "your punchers ain't never coming back." + +"What!" yelled the foreman, leaping to his feet, and having visions of +his men being cut up by outlaws and Indians. + +"Nope," replied Shields with an air of finality. "Bill Howland gave them +the most awful beating up that I ever saw men get, the whole four of +them, too! When he got through with them I took a hand and ordered them to +get out of the country, and I told them that if they ever came back I'd +shoot on sight, and I will." + +Sneed's rage was pathetic, and was not induced by the beating his men +had received, nor by the sheriff's orders, but because it left him only +three men to work a ranch which needed twelve. As he listened to the +sheriff's story he paced back and forth in the small room and swore +luridly, kicking at everything in sight, except the sheriff. Then he +cooled down, spread his feet far apart and stared at Shields. + +"Why didn't you kill 'em, the d----d fools?" he cried. "That's what +they deserved!" Then he paused. "But what am I going to do?" he asked. +"Where'll I get men, and what'll I do 'til I do get 'em?" + +"I'll send Charley and half a dozen of the boys out from town to stay +with you 'til you get some others," replied the sheriff, walking toward +the door. "And you might tell the three that are left that I'll kill the +next man who tries that kind of work in this country. I'm getting good +and tired of it. So long." + +Sneed didn't hear him, but sat with his head in his hands for several +minutes after the sheriff had gone, swearing fluently. + +"Orphan h--l!" he yelled as he picked up the water pail and stamped to +the cook shack. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE STAR C GIVES WELCOME + + +The Limping Water, within a mile after it passed Ford's Station, turned +abruptly and flowed almost due west for thirty miles, where it again +proceeded southward. At the second bend stood the ranch houses and corrals +of the Star C, in a country rich in grass and water. Its cows numbered +far into the thousands and its horses were the best for miles around, +while the whole ranch had an air of opulence and plenty. Its ranch +house was a curiosity, for even now there were lace curtains in some of +the windows, badly torn and soiled, but still lace curtains; and on the +floors of several rooms were thick carpets, now covered with dust and +riding paraphernalia. Oddly shaped and badly scratched chairs were +piled high with accumulated trash, and the few gilt-framed paintings +which graced the walls were hanging awry and were torn and scratched. At +one time an Eastern woman had tried to live there, but that was when +the owner of the ranch and his wife had been enthusiasts. New York +regained and kept its own, and they now would rather receive quarterly +reports by mail than daily reports in person. The foreman and his wolf +hounds reigned supreme, not at all bothered by the stiff furniture and +lace curtains, because he would rather be comfortable than stylish, +and so lived in two rooms which he had fitted up to his ideas. Carpets and +two-inch spurs cause profanity and ravelings, and as for pictures, they +have a most annoying way of tilting when one hangs a six-shooter on +one corner of the frame, and they are so inviting that one is constantly +forgetting. So the unstable pictures, the dress-parade chairs, bothersome +curtains and clutching carpets were left under the dust. + +The Star C, being in a part of the country little traversed and crossed +by no trails, was removed from the zone of The Orphan's activities and +had no cause for animosity, save that induced by his reputation. Several +of its punchers had seen him, and all were well versed in his exploits, +for frequently Ford's Station shared its hospitality with one or more of +them; and in Ford's Station at that time The Orphan was the chief topic +of conversation and the bone of contention. But the foreman of the Star C +would not know him if he should see him, unless by intuition. + +Blake was a man much after the pattern of Shields in his ideas, and the +two were warm friends and had roughed it together when Ford's Station +had only been an adobe hut. Their affection for each other was of the +stern, silent kind, which seldom betrayed itself directly in words, +and they could ride together for hours in an understanding silence and +never weary of the companionship; and when need was, deeds spoke for +them. The Cross Bar-8 would have had more than Ford's Station to fight if +it had declared war on the sheriff, which the Cross Bar-8 knew. The +three cleverest manipulators of weapons in that section, in the order of +their merit, were The Orphan, Shields and Blake, which also the Cross +Bar-8 knew. + +The foreman of the Star C rode at a walk toward a distant point of his +dominions and cogitated as to whether he could ride over to Ford's +Station that night to see the sheriff. It was a matter of sixty miles for +the round trip, but it might have been sixty blocks, so far as the +distance troubled him. He had just decided to make the trip and to +spend a pleasant hour with his friend, and drink some of the delicious +coffee which Mrs. Shields always made for him and eat one of her prize +pies, or some of her light ginger bread, when he descried a horseman +coming toward him at a lope. + +[Illustration: The Orphan gives Blake Shields' note. (_See page_ +213.)] + +The newcomer was a stranger to Blake and appeared to be a young man, which +was of no consequence. But the thing which attracted more than a casual +glance from the foreman was a certain jaunty, reckless air about the man +which spoke well for the condition of his nerves and liver. + +The stranger approached to within a rod of Blake before he spoke, and then +he slowed down and nodded, but with wide-eyed alertness. + +"Howdy," he said. "Are you the foreman of the Star C?" + +"Howdy. I am," replied the foreman. + +"Then I reckon this is yours," said the stranger, holding out a bit of +straw-colored paper. + +The foreman took it and slowly read it. When he had finished reading he +turned it over to see if there was anything on the back, and then stuck +it in his pocket and looked up casually. + +"Are you The Orphan?" he asked, with no more interest than he would have +displayed if he had asked about the weather. + +"Yes," replied The Orphan, nonchalantly rolling another cigarette. + +"How is the sheriff?" Blake asked. + +"Shore well enough, but a little mad about the Cross Bar-8," answered the +other as he inhaled deeply and with much satisfaction. "He said there was +some good coffee waiting for you to-night if you wanted it," he added. + +"Did he?" asked Blake, grinning his delight. + +"Yes, and some--apricot pie," added The Orphan wistfully. + +Blake laughed: "Well, I reckon I've got some business over in town +to-night, so you keep on going 'til you get to the bunk house. Tell Lee +Lung to rustle the grub lively--I'll be there right after you. Apricot +pie!" he chuckled as he pushed on at a lope. + +Jim Carter was washing for supper, being urged to show more speed by +Bud Taylor, when the latter looked up and saw The Orphan dismount. His +mouth opened a trifle, but he continued his urging without a break. He +had seen The Orphan at Ace High the year before, when the outlaw had +ridden in for a supply of cartridges, and he instantly recalled the face. +But Bud was not only easy-going, but also very hungry at the time, and he +didn't care if the devil himself called as long as the devil respected the +etiquette of the range. Besides, if there was to be trouble it would rest +more comfortably on a full stomach. + +"Give me a quit-claim to that pan, yu coyote," he said pleasantly to Jim. +"Yu ain't taking no bath!" + +"Blub--no I ain't--blub blub--but you will be--blub--if yu don't lemme +alone," came from the pan. "Hand me that towel!" + +"Don't wallow in it, yu!" admonished Bud as he refilled the basin. "Leave +some dry spots for me, this time." + +Jim carefully hung the towel on a peg in the wall of the house and then +noticed the stranger, who was removing his saddle. + +"Howdy, stranger!" he said heartily. "Just in time to feed. Coax some of +that water from Bud, but get holt of the towel first, for there won't be +none left soon." + +The Orphan laughed and dusted his chaps. + +"Where'll I find Lee Lung?" he asked. "Blake wants him to rustle the grub +lively." + +"He's in the cook shack behind the house a-doing it and trying to sing," +replied Jim. "He's always trying to sing; it goes something like this: +Hop-lee, low-hop yum-see," he hummed in a monotonous wail as he combed +his hair before a broken bit of mirror stuck in a crack. "Hi-dee, hee-hee, +chop-chop----" + +"Gimme that comb, yu heathen Chinee," cried Bud, "and don't make that +noise." + +"Anything else yu wants?" asked Jim, deliberately putting the comb away +in the box. + +"I want to be in Kansas City with a million dollars and a whopper of a +thirst," replied Bud as he filled the basin for the stranger. "It's all +yourn, stranger. Grub's waiting for yu inside when yore ready." + +"Do yu know who that feller is?" Bud asked in a whisper as they made their +way to the table, from which came much laughter. "That's The Orphant," +he added. + +"Th' h--l it is!" said Jim. "Him? Him Th' Orphant? Tell another! I'm more +than six years old, even if yu ain't." + +"That's straight, fellers!" said Bud to the assembled outfit in a low +voice. "I ain't kidding yu none, honest. I saw him up to Ace High last +year. That's him, all right. Wait 'til he comes in and see!" + +"Well, I don't care if he's Jonah," responded Jim. "Only I reckons you're +plumb loco, all the same. But I'm too hungry to care if Gabriel blows if I +can fill up before these Oliver Twists eats it all up," he said, revealing +his last reading matter. + +"He shore enough wears his gun plumb low--and the holster is tied to his +chaps, too," muttered Jim as he seated himself at the table. "So would I, +too, if I was him. Pass them murphys, Humble," he ordered. + +"You has got to bust that piebald pet what you've been keeping around the +house to-morrow, Humble," exulted the man nearest to him. "And it'll shore +be a circus watching you do it, too!" + +The blankets which divided the bunk house into two rooms were pushed aside +and The Orphan entered, carrying his saddle and bridle, which he placed +beside the others on the floor. Then he unbuckled his belts and hung +them, Colts and all, over the pommel, which was etiquette and which gave +assurance that the guest was not hunting anyone. Then he seated himself +at the table in a chair which Humble pushed back for him. His entry in +no degree caused a lull in the conversation. + +"Well, you hasn't got no kick coming, has you?" asked Humble. "Hey, +Cookie!" he shouted into the dark gallery which led to the cook shack. +"Rustle in some more fixings for another place, and bring in the slush!" +Then he turned to his tormentor: "You has allus got something to say about +my business, ain't you, hey?" + +"Sic 'em, Humble!" said Silent Allen. "Go for him!" + +From the gallery came sounds of calamity and then a mongrel dog shot +out and collided with the table, glancing off it and under the curtain +in his haste to gain the outside world. A second later the cook, his +face fiendish, grasping a huge knife, followed the dog out on the plain. +Those eating sprang to their feet and streamed after the cook, yelling +encouragement to their favorite. + +"Go it, Old Woman!" "'Ray for Cookie!" "Beat him out, Lightning!" and +other expressions met Blake as he came up from the corral. + +"Cook got 'em again?" he asked, elbowing his way into the house. "I told +you to keep liquor away from him." + +"'Tain't liquor this time; it's th' kioodle," replied Docile Thomas as he +led the way back to the table. "Him an' th' dog don't mix extra well." + +Blake swept aside the blanket and saw The Orphan standing by the window +and laughing. Turning, he disappeared into the gallery and soon returned +with a tin plate, a steel knife, a tin cup and the coffee pot. + +"Sit down--good Lord, they would let a man starve," he said, roughly +clearing a place at the table for the new arrival. "I don't know how +you feel," he continued, "but I'm so all-fired hungry that I don't know +whether it's my back or stomach that hurts. Take some beef and throw +those potatoes down this way. Here, have some slush," filling The Orphan's +cup with coffee. "This ain't like the coffee the sheriff drinks, but it +is just a little bit better than nothing. You see, Cook's all right, only +he can't cook, never could and never will. But he's a whole lot better +than a sailor I once suffered under." + +"What's the matter between you and Lightning, Lee?" asked Bud as the cook +passed by the table on his way to the shack. + +"Wouldn't he drink yore slush? I allus said some dogs was smart," laughed +Jack Lawson. + +Lee's smile was bland. "Scalpee th' dlog," he asserted as he disappeared. +"No dlamn good!" wafted from the gallery. + +"Say, Humble," said Silent Allen in an aggrieved tone, "the beef will wag +its tail some night if you don't shoot that cur!" + +"That's right!" endorsed Jack. "I'll shoot him for a dollar," he added +hopefully. "The boys will all chip in to make up the purse and it won't +cost you a cent, not even a cartridge." + +"Anybody that don't like that setter can move," responded Humble with +decision. "He's a O. K. dog, that's what he is," he added loyally. + +"Well, he's a setter, all right," laughed Silent. "He ain't good for +nothing else but to set around all day in the shade and chew hisself up." + +"He ain't, ain't he?" cried Humble, delaying the morsel on his fork in +mid-air. "You ought to see him a-chasing coyotes!" + +"I did see him chasing coyotes, and that's why I want you to have him +killed," replied Silent, grinning. "His feet are too big. Every time he +shoves his hind feet between the front ones he throws hisself." + +"What did he ever catch except fleas and the mange?" asked Blake, winking +at The Orphan, who was extremely busy burying his hunger. + +"What did he ever catch!" indignantly cried Humble, dropping his fork. +"You saw him catch that gray wolf over near the timber, and you can't deny +it, neither!" + +"By George, he did!" exclaimed Blake seriously. "You're right this time, +Humble, he did. But he let go awful sudden. Besides, that gray wolf +you're talking about was a coyote, and he would have died of old age in +another week if you hadn't shot him to save the dog. And, what's more, I +never saw him chase anything since, not even rabbits." + +"He caught my boot one night," remarked Charley Bailey, reflectively, +"right plumb on his near eye. Oh, he's a catcher, all right." + +"He's so good he ought to be stuffed, then he could sit without having +to move around catching boots and things," said Jim. "Why don't you have +him stuffed, Humble?" + +"Oh, yore a whole lot smart, now ain't you?" blazed the persecuted +puncher, glaring at his tormentors. + +"He can't catch his tail, Silent," offered Bud. "I once saw him trying +to do it for ten minutes--he looked like a pinwheel what we used to have +when we were kids. Missed it every time, and all he got was a cheap drunk." + +Humble said a few things which came out so fast that they jammed up, and +he left the room to hunt for his dog. + +"Any particular reason why you call him Lightning, or is it just irony?" +asked The Orphan as he helped himself to the beef for the third time. "I +never heard that name used before." + +"Oh, it ain't irony at all!" hastily denied the foreman. "That's a real +good name, fits him all right," he assured. Then he explained: "You see, +lightning don't hit twice in the same place, and neither can the dog when +he scratches himself. And, besides, he can dodge awful quick. You have +to figure which way he'll jump when you want him to catch anything." + +"But you don't have to remember his name at all, Stranger," interposed +Silent, who was not at all silent. "Any handle will do, if you only yells. +Every time anybody yells he makes a crow line for the plain and howls at +every jump. He's got a regular, shore enough trail worn where he makes his +get-away." + +Silence descended over the table, and for a quarter of an hour only the +click of eating utensils could be heard. At the end of that time Blake +pushed back his chair and arose. He glanced around the table and then +spoke very distinctly: "Well, Orphan, get acquainted with your outfit." A +head or two raised at the name, but that seemed to be all the effect of +his words. "The boys will put you onto the game in the morning, and Bud +will show you where to begin in case I don't show up in time. Better take +a fresh cayuse and let yours rest up some. Don't hurt Humble's ki-yi and +he'll be plumb nice to you; and if Silent wants to know how you likes +his singing and banjo playing, lie and say it's fine." + +The laugh went around and all was serene with the good fellowship which +is so often found in good outfits. + +"Joe, I'll bring the mail out with me, so you needn't go after it," +continued the foreman as he strode towards the door. "That's what I'm +going over for," he laughed. + +"Lord, I'd go, too, if pie and cake and good coffee was on the card," +laughed Silent. + +"We'll shore have to go over in a gang some night and raid that pantry," +remarked Bud. "It would be a circus, all right." + +"The sheriff would get some good target practice, that's shore," responded +Blake. "But I've got something better than that, and since you brought +the subject up I'll tell you now, so you'll be good. + +"Mrs. Shields has promised to get up a fine feed for you fellows as soon +as Jim's sisters are on hand to help her, and as they are here now I +wouldn't be a whole lot surprised if I brought the invitation back with +me. How's that for a change, eh?" he asked. + +"Glory be!" cried Silent. "Hurry up and get home!" + +"Say, she's all right, ain't she!" shouted Jack, executing a jig to show +how glad he was. + +"Pinch me, Humble, pinch me!" begged Bud. "I may be asleep and +dreaming--_here!_ What the devil do you think I am, you wart-headed +coyote!" he yelled, dancing in pain and rubbing his leg frantically. +"You blamed doodle bug, yu!" + +"Well, I pinched you, didn't I?" indignantly cried Humble. "What's eating +you? Didn't you ask me to, you chump?" + +"Hurry up and get that mail, Tom," cried Jim. "It might spoil--and say, +if she leads at you with that invite, clinch!" + +Blake laughed and went off toward the corral. As he found the horse he +wished to ride he heard a riot in the bunk-house and he laughed silently. +A Virginia reel was in full swing and the noise was terrible. Riding +past the window, he saw Silent working like a madman at his banjo; and +assiduously playing a harmonica was The Orphan, all smiles and puffed-out +cheeks. + +"Well, The Orphan is all right now," the foreman muttered as he swung out +on the trail to Ford's Station. "I reckon he's found himself." + +In the bunk-house there was much hilarity, and laughter roared continually +at the grotesque gymnastics of the reel and at the sharp wit which cut +right and left, respecting no one save the new member of the outfit, +and eventually he came in for his share, which he repaid with interest. +Suddenly Jim, catching his spurs in a bear-skin rug which lay near a +bunk, threw out his arms to save himself and then went sprawling to the +floor. The uproar increased suddenly, and as it died down Jim could be +heard complaining. + +"---- ----!" he cried as he nursed his knee. "I've had that pelt for +nigh onto three years and regularly I go and get tangled up with it. It +shore beats all how I plumb forget its habit of wrapping itself around +them rowels, what are too big, anyhow. And it ain't a big one at that, +only about half as big as the one I got for a tenderfoot up in Montanny," +he deprecated in disgust. + +The outfit scented a story and became suddenly quiet. + +"Dod-blasted postage stamp of a pelt," he grumbled as he threw it into +his bunk. + +"The other skin couldn't 'a' been much bigger than that one," said Bud, +leading him on. "How big was it, anyhow, Jim?" + +"It couldn't, hey? It came off a nine-foot grizzly, that's how big it +was," retorted Jim, sitting down and filling his pipe. "Nine whole feet +from stub of tail to snoot, plumb full of cussedness, too." + +"How'd you get it--Sharps?" queried Charley. + +"No, Colt," responded Jim. "Luckiest shot _I_ ever made, all right. I +shore had visions of wearing wings when I pulled the trigger. Just one of +them lucky shots a man will make sometimes." + +"Give us the story, Jim," suggested Silent, settling himself easily in his +bunk. "Then we'll have another smoke and go right to bed. I'm some sleepy." + +"Well," began Jim after his pipe was going well, "I was sort of second +foreman for the Tadpole, up in Montanny, about six years ago. I had a good +foreman, a good ranch and about a dozen white punchers to look after. And +we had a real cook, no mistake about that, all right. + +"The Old Man hibernated in New York during the winter and came out every +spring right after the calf round-up was over to see how we was fixed and +to eat some of the cook's flapjacks. That cook wasn't no yaller-skinned +post for a hair clothes line, like this grinning monkey what we've got +here. The Old Man was a fine old cuss--one of the boys, and a darn good +one, too--and we was always plumb glad to see him. He minded his own +business, didn't tell us how we ought to punch cows and didn't bother +anybody what didn't want to be bothered, which we most of us did like. + +"Well, one day Jed Thompson, who rustled our mail for us twice a month, +handed me a letter for the foreman, who was down South and wouldn't +be back for some time. His mother had died and he went back home for a +spell. I saw that the letter was from the Old Man, and wondered what it +would say. I sort of figured that it would tell us when to hitch up to +the buckboard and go after him. Fearing that he might land before the +foreman got back, I went and opened it up. + +"It was from the Old Man, all right, but it was no go for him that spring. +He was sick abed in New York, and said as how he was plumb sorry he +couldn't get out to see his boys, and so was we sorry. But he said as +how he was sending us a friend of his'n who wanted to go hunting, and +would we see that he didn't shoot no cows. We said we would, and then +I went on and found out when this hunter was due to land. + +"When the unfortunate day rolled around I straddled the buckboard and lit +out for Whisky Crossing, twenty miles to the east, it being the nearest +burg on the stage line. And as I pulled in I saw Frank, who drove the +stage, and he was grinning from ear to ear. + +"'I reckon that's your'n,' he said, pointing to a circus clown what had +got loose and was sizing up the town. + +"'The drinks are on me when I sees you again, Frank,' I said, for somehow +I felt that he was right. + +"Then I sized up my present, and blamed if he wasn't all rigged out to +kill Indians. While my mouth was closing he ambled up to me and stared +at my gun, which must 'a' been purty big to him. + +"'Are you Mr. Fisher's hired man?' he asked, giving me a real tolerating +look. + +"Frank followed his grin into the saloon, leaving the door open so he +could hear everything. That made me plumb sore at Frank, him a-doing a +thing like that, and I glared. + +"'I ain't nobody's hired man, and never was,' I said, sort of riled. 'We +ain't had no hired man since we lynched the last one, but I'm next door +to the foreman. Won't I do, or do you insist on talking to a hired man? +If you do, he's in the saloon.' + +"'Oh, yes, you'll do!' he said, quick-like, and then he ups and climbs +aboard and we pulled out for home, Frank waving his sombrero at me and +laughing fit to kill. + +"We hadn't no more than got started when the hunter ups and grabs at the +lines, which he shore missed by a foot. I was driving them cayuses, not +him, and I told him so, too. + +"'But ain't you going to take my luggage?' he asked. + +"'Luggage! What luggage?' I answers, surprised-like. + +"Then he pointed behind him, and blamed if he didn't have two trunks, a +gripsack and three gun cases. I didn't say a word, being too full of cuss +words to let any of 'em loose, until Frank wobbled up and asked me if +I'd forgot something. Then I shore said a few, after which I busted my +back a-hoisting his freight cars aboard, and we started out again, Frank +acting like a d----n fool. + +"The cayuses raised their ears, wondering what we was taking the saloon +for, and I reckoned we would make them twenty miles in about eight hours +if nothing busted and we rustled real hard. + +"Well, about every twenty minutes I had to get off and hoist some of +his furniture aboard, it being jolted off, for the prairie wasn't paved +a whole lot, and us going cross-country. Considering my back, and the +fact that he kept calling me 'My man,' and Frank's grin, I wasn't in +no frame of mind to lead a religion round-up when I got home and dumped +Davy Crockett's war-duds overboard for Jed to rustle in. I was still sore +at Jed for bringing that letter. + +"Davy Crockett dusted for the house and ordered Sammy Johns to oil his +guns and put them together, after which he went off a-poking his nose into +everything in sight, and mostly everything that wasn't in sight. When he +got back to the house from his tour of inspection he found his guns just +like he'd left them, and that was in their cases. Then he ambled out to +me and registered his howl. + +"'My man,' he said, 'My man, that hired man what I told to put my guns +together ain't done it!' + +"'Oh, he didn't?' I said, hanging on to my cuss words, for I was some +surprised and couldn't say a whole lot. + +"'No, he hasn't, and so I've come out to report him,' he said, looking mad. + +"'My man!' said I, mad some myself, and looking him plumb in the eyes. 'My +man, if he had I'd shore think he was off his feed or loco. He ain't no +hired man, but he is a all-fired good cow-puncher, and I'm a heap scared +about him not filling you full of holes, you asking him to do a thing like +that! He must be real sick.' + +"He didn't have no come-back to that, but just looked sort of funny, and +then he trotted off to put his guns together hisself. I hustled around +and saw that some work was done right and then went in to supper. After it +was over my present got up and handed me a gun, and I near fell over. +It was a purty little Winchester, and I don't blame him a whole lot for +being tickled over it, for it shore was a beauty, but it oozed out a ball +about the size of a pea, and the makers would 'a' been some scared if +they had known it was running around loose in a grizzly-bear country. + +"'I reckon that'll stop him,' he said, happy-like. + +"'Stop what?' I asked him. + +"'Why, game--bears, of course,' he said, shocked at my appalling ignorance. + +"'Yes,' said I, slow-like, 'I reckon Ephraim may turn around and scratch +hisself, if you hits him.' + +"'Why, won't that stop a bear?' + +"'Yes, if it's a stuffed bear,' I said. + +"'Why, that's a blamed good rifle!' + +"'It shore is; it's as fine a gun as I ever laid my eyes on,' I replied, +'for prairie dogs and such.' + +"Then I felt plumb sorry for him, he being so ignorant, and so when he +hands me a peach of a shotgun to shoot coyotes with I laid it down and +got my breach-loading Sharps, .50 caliber, which I handed to him. + +"'There,' I said, 'that's the only gun in the room what any +self-respecting bear will give a d----n for.' + +"He looked at it, felt its heft, sized up the bunghole and then squinted +along the sights. + +"'Why, this gun will kick like the very deuce!' he said. + +"'Kick!' said I. 'KICK! She'll kick like a army mule if you holds her far +enough from your shoulder. But I'd a whole lot ruther get kicked by a mule +than hugged by a grizzly, and so'll you when you sees him a-heading your +way.' + +"'But what'll you use?' says he, 'I don't want to take your gun.' + +"Well, when he said that I reckoned that he had some good stuff in him +after all, and somehow I felt better. There he was, away from his mother +and sisters, among a bunch of gamboling cow-punchers, and right in the +middle of a good bear country. I sort of wondered if he was to blame, and +managed to lay all the fault on his city bringing-up. + +"'That's all right,' says I, 'I'll take an old muzzle-loading Bridesburg +what's been laying around the house ever since I came here. It heaves +enough lead at one crack to sink a man-of-war, being a .60 caliber.' + +"Well, bright and early the next morning we started out for bear, and I +knowed just where to look, too. You see, there was a thicket of berry +bushes about three miles from the ranch house and I had seen plenty of +tracks there, and there was a grizzly among them, too, and as big as a +house, judging from the signs. The boys had wanted to ride out in a gang +and rope him, but I said as how I was saving him for a dude hunter to +practice on, so they left him alone. + +"We footed it through the brush, and finally Davy Crockett, who simply +would go ahead of me, yelled out that he had found tracks. + +"I rustled over, and sure enough he had, only they wasn't made by no bear, +and I said so. + +"'Then what are they?' he asked, sort of disappointed. + +"'Cow tracks,' said I. 'When you see bear tracks you'll know it right +away,' and we went on a-hunting. + +"We had just got down in a little hollow, where the green flies were +purty bad, when I saw tracks, and they was bear tracks this time, and +whoppers. It had rained a little during the night and the ground was +just soft enough to show them nice. I called Davy Crockett and he came +up, and when he saw them tracks he was plumb tickled, and some scairt. + +"'Where is he?' he asked, looking around sort of anxious. + +"'At the front end of these tracks, making more,' said I. + +"'And what are we going to do now?' he asked, cocking the Sharps. + +"'We're going to trail him,' said I, 'and if we finds him and has any +accidents, you wants to telegraph yourself up a tree, and be sure that +it ain't a big tree, too.' + +"'"Be sure it ain't a big tree!"' he repeated, looking at me like he +thought I wanted him to get killed. + +"'Exactly,' said I, and then I explained: 'The bigger the tree, the sooner +you'll be a meal, for he climbs by hugging the trunk and pushing hisself +up. A little tree'll slide through his legs, and he can't get a holt.' + +"'I hope I don't forget that!' he exclaimed, looking dubious. + +"'The less you forgets when bear hunting,' said I, 'the longer you'll +remember.' + +"We took up the trail and purty soon we saw the bear, and he was so big he +didn't hardly know how to act. He was pawing berries into his mouth +for breakfast, and he turned his head and slowly sized us up. He dropped +on all fours and then got up again, and Davy Crockett, not listening to +me telling him where to shoot, lets drive and busted an ear. Ephraim +preferred all fours again and started coming straight at us, and Moses +and all his bullrushers couldn't have stopped him. He was due to arrive +near Davy Crockett in about four and a half seconds, and that person +dropped his gun and hot-footed it for a whopping big tree. I yelled +at him and told him to take a little one, but he was too blamed busy +hunting bear to listen to a no-account hired man like me, so he kept +on a-going for the big tree. + +"I figured, and figured blamed quick, that the bear would tag him just +about the time he tagged the tree, and so, hoping to create a diversion, +I whanged away at the bear's tail, him running plumb away from me. I +was real successful, for I created it all right. When he felt that +carload of lead slide up under his skin he braced hisself, slid and +wheeled, looking for the son-of-a-gun what done it, and he saw me pouring +powder hell-bent down my gun. He must 'a' knowed that I was the real +business end of the partnership, and that he'd have trouble a-plenty if +he let me finish my job, for he came at me like a bullet. + +"'Climb a _little_ tree! Climb a _little_ tree!' yelled Davy Crockett from +his perch in his two-foot-through oak. + +"I wasn't in no joyous frame of mind when a nine-foot grizzly was due in +the next mail, but I just had to laugh at his advice when I sized up his +layout. As I jumped to one side the bear slid past, trying awful hard to +stop, and he was doing real well, too. As he turned I slipped on some of +that green grass, and thought as how the Old Man would have to get another +puncher. + +"'I ain't never going to peter out with a tenderfoot looking on if I can +help it!' I said to myself, and I jerked loose my six-shooter, shooting +offhand and some hasty. It was just a last hope, the kick of a dying +man's foot, but it fetched him, blamed if it didn't! He went down in a +heap and clawed about for a spell, but I put five more in him, and then +sat down. Did you ever notice how long it takes a grizzly to die? I +loaded my gun in a hurry, the sweat pouring down my face, for that was +one of the times it ain't no disgrace to be some scared, which I was. + +"'Is he dead?' called Davy Crockett from his tree, hopeful-like and some +anxious. + +"'He is,' I said, 'or, leastawise, he was.' + +"Davy was a sight. He was all skinned up from his clinch with the tree, +though how he used his face getting up is more than I can tell. And he +was some white and unsteady. He had all the hunting he wanted, and he +managed to say that he was glad he hadn't come out alone, and that he +reckoned I was right about his guns after all. So we took a last look at +the bear and lit out for the ranch, where I told the boys to go out and +drag our game home." + +Jim knocked the ashes from his pipe and began to fill it anew, acting as +though the story was finished, but Bud knew him well, and he spoke up: + +"Well, what then?" he asked. + +"Oh, the hunter left for New York the very next day, and I skinned the +bear and sent the pelt after him as a present. When I wrote out my +quarterly report, the foreman not being back yet, I told the Old Man that +if he had any more friends what wanted to go hunting to send them up to +Frenchy McAllister on the Tin Cup. I was some sore at Frenchy for the +way he had cleaned me out at poker." + +He threw the skin to the floor and began to undress. + +"Come on, now, lights out," he said. "I'm tired." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE SHERIFF STATES SOME FACTS + + +The foreman of the Star C impatiently tossed his bridle reins over the +post which stood near the sheriff's door and knocked heavily, brushing +the dust of his ride from him. Quick, heavy steps approached within the +house and the door suddenly flew open. + +"Hullo, Tom!" Shields cried, shaking hands with his friend. "Come right +in--I knew you would come if we coaxed you a little." + +"You don't have to do much coaxing--I can't stay away, Jim," replied Blake +with a laugh. "How do you do, Mrs. Shields?" + +"Very well, Tom," she answered. "Miss Ritchie, Helen, Mary, this is Tom +Blake; Tom, Miss Ritchie and James' sisters. They are to stay with us just +as long as they can, and I'll see that it is a good, long time, too." + +"How do you do?" he cried heartily, acknowledging the introduction. "I +am glad to meet you, for I've heard a whole lot about you. I hope you'll +like this country--greatest country under the sky! You stay out here a +month and I'll bet you'll be just like lots of people, and not want to +go back East again." + +"It seems as though we have always known Mr. Blake, for James has written +about you so much," replied Helen, and then she laughed: "But I am not +so sure about liking this country, although very unusual things seem to +take place in it. The journey was very trying, and it seemed to get worse +as we neared our destination." + +"Well, I'll have to confess that the stage-ride part of it is a drawback, +and also that Apaches don't make good reception committees. They are a +little too pressing at times." + +"But, speaking seriously," responded Helen, "I have had a really +delightful time. James has managed to get me a very tame horse after +quite a long search, and I have taken many rides about the country." + +"Wait 'til you see that horse, Tom," laughed the sheriff. "It's warranted +not to raise any devilment, but it can't, for it has all it can do to +stand up alone, and can't very well run away." + +"I see that The Orphan delivered my message, contrary to the habits of +men," remarked the sheriff's wife as she took the guest's hat and offered +him a seat. "I spoke to James about it several days ago, and asked him to +send you word when he could, for you have not been here for a long time. +And the wonderful thing about it is that he remembered to tell The Orphan." + +"Thank you," he replied, seating himself. "Yes, he delivered it all +right, it was about the second thing he said. But I just couldn't get +here any sooner, Mrs. Shields. And I was just wondering if I could get +over to-night when he told me. When he said 'apricot pie' he looked sort +of sad." + +"Poor boy!" she exclaimed. "You must take him one--it was a shame to send +such a message by him, poor, lonesome boy!" + +"Well, he ain't so lonesome now," laughed Blake. + +Helen had looked up quickly at the mention of The Orphan's name, and the +sheriff replied to her look of inquiry. + +"I sent him out to punch for Blake, Helen," he said quickly. "If he has +the right spirit in him he'll get along with the Star C outfit; if he +hasn't, why, he won't get on with anybody. But I reckon Tom will bring +out all the good in him; he'll have a fair show, anyhow." + +"And you never told us about it!" cried Helen reproachfully. + +"Oh, I was saving it up," laughed the sheriff. "What do you think of him, +Tom?" he asked, turning to the foreman. + +"Why, he's a clean-looking boy," answered Blake. "I like his looks. He +seems to be a fellow what can be depended on in a pinch, and after all +I had heard about him he sort of took me by surprise. I thought he would +be a tough-looking killer, and there he was only a overgrown, mischievous +kid. But there is a look in his eyes that says there is a limit. But he +surprised me, all right." + +"You want to appreciate that, Miss Ritchie," remarked the sheriff, smiling +broadly. "Anything that takes Tom Blake by surprise must have merit of +some kind. And he is a good judge of men, too." + +"I do so hope he gets on well," she replied earnestly. "He was a perfect +gentleman when he was here, and his wit was sharp, too. And out there on +that awful plain, when he stood swaying with weakness, he looked just +splendid!" + +"Pure grit, pure grit!" cried the sheriff in reply. "That's why I'm +banking on him," he added, his eyes warming as he remembered. "Any fellow +who could turn a trick like that, and who has so much clean-cut courage, +must be worth looking after. He's got a bad reputation, but he's plumb +white and square with me, and I'm going to be square with him. And when +you know all that I know about him you'll take his reputation as a +natural result of hard luck, spunk, and other people's devilment and +foolishness. But he's going to have a show now, all right." + +"What did your men say when they saw him? Do they know who he is?" asked +Mrs. Shields anxiously. + +Blake laughed: "Oh, yes, they know who he is. They ain't the talking kind +in a case like that; they won't say a word to him about what he has +done. Besides, he was under their roof, eating their food, and that's +enough for them. Of course, they were a little surprised, but not half as +much as I thought they would be. He is a man who gives a good first +impression, and the boys are all fine fellows, big-hearted, square, +clean-living and peaceful. Reputations don't count for much with them, +for they know that reputations are gossip-made in most cases. I asked +him to stay, and they haven't got no reason to object, and they won't +waste no time looking for reasons, neither. If there is any trouble at +all, it will be his own fault. Then again, they know that he is all +sand and that his gunplay is real and sudden; not that they are afraid +of him, or anybody else, for that matter, but he is the kind of a man +they like--somebody who can stand up on his own legs and give better than +he gets." + +"I reckon he fills that bill, all right," laughed the sheriff. "He _can_ +stand up on his own legs, and when he does he makes good. And as for +gunplay, good Lord, he's a shore wizard! I reckoned I could do things +with a gun, but he can beat me. He ain't no Boston pet, and he ain't +no city tough, not nohow. And I'd rather have him with me in a mix-up +than against me. He's the coolest proposition loose in this part of the +country at any game, and I know what I'm talking about, too." + +"You promised to tell us everything about him, all you knew," reproached +Helen. "And I am sure that it will be well worth hearing." + +"Well, I was saving it up 'til I could tell it all at once and when you +would all be together," he replied. "There wasn't any use of telling it +twice," he explained as he brought out a box of cigars. "These are the +same brand you sampled last time you were here," he assured his friend +as he extended the box. + +"By George, that's fine!" cried the foreman, picking out the blackest +cigar he could see. "I could taste them cigars for a whole week, they +was so good. There's nothing like a good Perfecto to make a fellow feel +like he's too lucky to live." + +"Oh," said Mrs. Shields. "Then you won't care for the coffee and pie and +gingerbread," she sighed. "I'm very sorry." + +Blake jumped: "Lord, Ma'am," he cried hastily, "I meant in the smoking +line! Why, I've been losing sleep a-dreaming of your cooking. Every time +the cook fills my cup with his insult to coffee I feel so lonesome that +it hurts!" + +"You want to look out, Tom!" laughingly warned the sheriff, "or you'll +get yourself disliked! When I don't care for Margaret's cooking I ain't +fool enough to say so, not a bit of it." + +"You're a nice one to talk like that!" cried his wife. "You are just like +a little boy on baking day--I can hardly keep you out of the kitchen. You +bother me to death, and it is all I can do to cook enough for you!" + +After the laugh had subsided and a steaming cup of coffee had been placed +at the foreman's elbow, Helen impatiently urged her brother to begin his +story. + +He lighted his cigar with exasperating deliberateness and then laughed +softly: "Gosh! I'm getting to be a second fiddle around here. From morning +to night all I hear is The Orphan. The first thing that hits me when I +come home is, 'Have you seen The Orphan?' or, 'Have you heard anything +about him?' The worst offenders are Miss Ritchie and Helen. They pester +me nigh to death about him. But here goes: + +"I reckon I'd better begin with Old John Taylor," he slowly began. "I've +been doing some quiet hunting lately, and in the course of it I ran across +Old John down in Crockettsville. You remember him, don't you, Tom? Yes, +I reckoned you wouldn't forget the man who got us out of that Apache +scrape. Well, I had a good talk with him, and this is what I learned: + +"About twenty years ago a family named Gordon moved into northwestern +Texas and put up a shack in one of the valleys. There was three of them, +father, mother, and a bright little five-year-old boy, and they brought +about two hundred head of cattle, a few horses and a whole raft of +books. Gordon bought up quite a bit of land from a ranch nearby at +almost a song, and he never thought of asking for a deed--who would, +down there in those days? There wasn't a rancher who owned more than a +quarter section; you know the game, Tom--take up a hundred and sixty +acres on a stream and then claim about a million, and fight like the very +devil to hold it. We've all done it, I reckon, but there is plenty of +land for everybody, and so there is no kick. Well, he was shore lucky, +for his boundary on two sides was a fair-sized stream that never went +dry, and you know how scarce that is--a whole lot better than a gold mine +to a cattleman. + +"They got along all right for a while, had a tenderfoot's luck with their +cattle, which soon began to be more than a few specks on the plain, and he +was very well satisfied with everything, except that there wasn't no +school. Old man Gordon was daffy on education, which is a good thing to +be daffy over, and he was some strong in that line himself, having been a +school teacher back East. But he took his boy in hand and taught him +all he knew, which must have been a whole lot, judging from things in +general, and the kid was a smart, quick youngster. He was plumb crazy +about two things--books and guns. He read and re-read all the books he +could borrow, and got so he could handle a gun with any man on the range. + +"About five years after he had located, the ranchman from whom he bought +his range and water rights went and died. Some of the heirs, who were not +what you would call square, began to get an itching for Gordon's land, +which was improved by the first irrigation ditch in Texas. There was a +garden and a purty good orchard, which was just beginning to bear fruit. +It was pure, cussed hoggishness, for there was more land than anybody +had any use for, but they must grab everything in sight, no matter what +the cost. Trouble was the rule after that, and the old man was up against +it all the time. But he managed to hold his own, even though he did lose +a lot of cattle. + +"His brand was a gridiron, which wasn't much different from the gridiron +circle brand of the big ranch. It ain't much trouble to use a running iron +through a wet blanket and change a brand like that when you know how, +and the Gridiron Circle gang shore enough knew how. Their expertness with +a running iron would have caused questions to be asked, and probably a +lynching bee, in other parts of the country, but down there they were +purty well alone. They let Gordon know that he had jumped the range, +which was just what they had done, that he didn't own it, and that the +sooner he left the country the better it would be for his health. But +he had peculiar ideas about justice, and he shore was plumb full of +grit and obstinacy. He knew he was right, that he had paid for the land, +and that he had improved it. And he had a lot of faith in the law, not +realizing that he hadn't anything to show the law. And he didn't know +that law and justice don't always mean the same thing, not by a long shot. + +"Well, one day he went out looking for a vein of coal, which he thought +ought to be thereabouts, according to his books, and it ought to be close +to the surface of a fissure. He reckoned that coal of any quality would +be some better than chips and the little wood he owned, so he got busy. +But he didn't find coal, but something that made him hotfoot it to his +books. When the report came back from the assay office he knew that he +had hit on a vein of native silver, which was some better than coal. + +"It didn't take long for the news to get around, though God Himself only +knows how it did, unless the storekeeper told that a package had gone +through his hands addressed to the assay office, and things began to +happen in chunks. He caught three Gridiron Circle punchers shooting his +cows, and he was naturally mad about it and just shot up the bunch before +they knew he was around. He killed one and spoiled the health of the other +two for some time to come, which naturally spelled war with a big W. Then +about this time his wife went and died, which was a purty big addition +to his troubles. As he stood above her grave, all broken up, and about +ready to give up the fight and go back East, he was shot at from cover. +He didn't much care if he was killed or not, until he remembered that he +had a boy to take care of. Then he got fighting mad all at once, all of +his troubles coming up before him in a bunch, and he got his gun and +went hunting, which was only right and proper under the circumstances." + +The sheriff flecked the ashes of his cigar into a blue flower pot which +was gay with white ribbons, and poured himself a cup of coffee. + +"I hate to think that it is possible to find a whole ranch of hellions +from the owner down," he continued, "but the nature of the owner picks a +dirty foreman, and a dirty foreman needs dirty men, and there you are. +That fits the case of the Gridiron Circle to a T. There was not one white +man in the whole gang," and he sat in silence for a space. + +"Well, the boy, who was about fifteen years old by this time, took his +gun and went out to find his daddy, and he succeeded. He cut him down +and buried him and then went home. That night the shack burned to the +ground, the orchard was ruined and the boy disappeared. Some people said +that the kid took what he wanted and burned the house rather than to +have it profaned as a range house by the curs who murdered his dad; and +some said the other thing, but from what I know of the kid, I reckon he +did it himself. + +"Right there and then things began to happen that hurt the ease and safety +of the Gridiron Circle. Cows were found dead all over the range--juglars +cut in every case. Three of their punchers were found dead in one +week--a .5O-caliber Sharps had done it. A regular reign of terror began +and kept the outfit on the nervous jump all the time. They searched and +trailed and searched and swore, and if one of them went off by himself +he was usually ready to be buried. Ten experienced, old-time cowmen were +made fools of by a fifteen-year-old kid, who was never seen by anybody +that lived long enough to tell about it. When he got hungry, he just +killed another cow and had a porterhouse steak cooked between two others +over a good fire. He ate the middle steak, which had all the juices of +the two burned ones, and threw the others away. Three meals a day for six +months, and one cow to a meal, was the order of things on the ranges of +the Gridiron Circle. He had plenty of ammunition, because every dead +puncher was minus his belt when found and his guns were broken or gone; +and early in the game the boy had made a master stroke: he raided the +storehouse of the ranch one night and lugged away about five hundred +rounds of ammunition in his saddle bags, with a couple of spare Colts and +a repeating Winchester of the latest pattern, and he spoiled all the +rest of the guns he could lay his hands on. Humorous kid, wasn't he, +shooting up the ranch with its own guns and cartridges? + +"Finally, however, after the news had spread, which it did real quick, a +regular lynching party was arranged, and the U-B, which lay about sixty +miles to the east, sent over half a dozen men to take a hand. Then the +Gridiron Circle had a rest, but while the gang was hunting for him and +laying all sorts of elaborate traps to catch him, the boy was over on +the U-B, showing it how foolish it had been to take up another man's +quarrel. By this time the whole country knew about it, and even some +Eastern papers began to give it much attention. One of the punchers of +the Gridiron Circle, when he found a friend dead and saw the tracks of +the kid in the sand, swore and cried that it was 'that d----n Orphan' +who had done it, and the name stuck. He had become an outlaw and was +legitimate prey for any man who had the chance and grit to turn the +trick. For ten years he has been wandering all over the range like a +hunted gray wolf, fighting for his life at every turn against all kinds of +odds, both human and natural. And I reckon that explains why he is accused +of doing so much killing. He has been hunted and forced to shoot to +save his own life, and a gray wolf is a fighter when cornered. I know +that I wouldn't give up the ghost if I could help it, and neither would +anybody else." + +"Oh, it is a shame, an awful shame!" cried Helen, tears of sympathy in her +eyes. "How could they do it? I don't blame him, not a bit! He did right, +terrible as it was! And only a boy when they began, too! Oh, it is awful, +almost unbelievable!" + +"Yes, it is, Sis," replied Shields earnestly. "It ain't his fault, not +by any manner or means--he was warped." And then he added slowly: "But Tom +and I will straighten him out, and if some folks hereabouts don't like it, +they can shore lump it, or fight." + +"Tell me how you met him, Jim," requested Blake in the interval of +silence. "I've heard some of it, second-handed, or third-handed, but I'd +like to have it straight." + +"Well," the sheriff continued, "when he came to these parts I didn't +know anything about him except what I had heard, which was only bad. He +had a nasty way of handling his gun, a hair-trigger and a nervous finger +on his gun, and he had a distressing way of using one cow to a meal, so +I got busy. I didn't expect much trouble in getting him. I knew that he +was only a youngster and I counted on my fifty years, and most of them +of experience, getting him. Being young, I reckoned he would be foolhardy +and hasty and uncertain in his wisdom; but, Lord! it was just like trying +to catch a flea in the dark. He was here, there and everywhere. While +I was down south hunting along his trail he would be up north objecting +to the sheep industry in ingenious ways and varying his bill of fare +with choice cuts of lamb and mutton. And by the time I got down south he +would be--God only knows where, I didn't. I could only guess, and I +guessed wrong until the last one. And then it was the toss of a coin +that decided it. + +"After a while he began to get more daring, and when I say more daring I +mean an open game with no limit. He began to prove my ideas about his age +making him reckless, though he was cautious enough, to be sure. One day, +not long ago, he had a run-in with two sheepmen out by the U bend of the +creek, who had driven their herds up on Cross Bar-8 land and over the +dead-line established by the ranch. They must have taken him for some +Cross Bar-8 puncher and thought he was going to kick up a fuss about the +trespass, or else they recognized him. Anyway, when I got on the scene +they were ready to be planted, which I did for them. Then I went after +him on a plain trail north--and almost too plain to suit me, because it +looked like it had been made plain as an invitation. He had picked out +the softest ground and left plenty of good tracks. But I was some mad +and didn't care much what I run into. I thought he had driven the whole +blasted herd of baa-baas over that high bank and into the creek, for the +number of dead sheep was shore scandalous. + +"I followed that cussed trail north, east, south, west and then all +over the whole United States, it seemed to me. And it was always +growing older, because I had to waste time in dodging chaparrals and +things like that that might hold him and his gun. I went picking my +way on a roundabout course past thickets of honey mesquite and cactus +gardens, over alkali flats and everything else, and the more I fooled +about the madder I got. I ain't no real, genuine fool, and I've had +some experience at trailing, but I had to confess that I was just a +plain, ordinary monkey-on-a-stick when stacked up against a kid that was +only about half my age, because suddenly the plainness of the trail +disappeared and I was left out on the middle of a burning desert to +guess the answer as best I could. I knew what he had done, all right, +but that didn't help me a whole lot. Did you ever trail anybody that used +padded-leather footpads on his cayuse's feet, and that went on a +walk, picking out the hardest ground? No? Well, I have, and it's no cinch. + +"I got tired of chasing myself back to the same place four times out of +five, and I reckons that it wouldn't be very long before he had made his +circle and got me in front of him. It ain't no church fair to be hunting +a mad devil like him under the best conditions, and it's a whole lot +less like one when he gets behind you doing the same thing. I didn't +know whether he had swung to the north or south, so I tossed up a coin +and cried heads for north--and it was tails. I cut loose at a lope and +had been riding for some time when I saw something through an opening +in the chaparrals to the east of me, and it moved. I swung my glasses +on it, and I'm blamed if it wasn't an Apache war party bound north. +They were about a mile to the east of me, and if they kept on going +straight ahead they would run across my trail in about three hours, +for it gradually worked their way. I ducked right then and there and +struck west for a time, turning south again until I hit the Cimarron +Trail, which I followed east. Well, as I went around one side of the +chaparral six mad Apaches went around the other, and they hit my trail +too soon to suit me. I heard a hair-raising yell and lit out in the +direction of Chattanooga as hard as I could go, with a hungry chorus a +mile behind me. + +"I had just passed that freak bowlder on the Apache Trail when the man I +was looking for turned up, and with the drop, of course. We reckoned that +two was needed to stop the war-paints, which we did, him running the game +and doing most of the playing. I felt like I was his honored guest whom +he had invited to share in the festivities. He had plenty of chances to +nail me if he wanted to, and he had chipped in on a game that he didn't +have to take cards in; and to help me out. He could have let them get +me and they would have thought that I had done all the injury and that +there wasn't another man on the desert. But he didn't, and I began to +think he wasn't as bad as he was painted." + +Then he told of the trouble between The Orphan and Jimmy of the Cross +Bar-8, and of the rage which blossomed out on the ranch. + +"That shore settled it for the Cross Bar-8. They wanted lots of gore, and +they got it, all right, when he played five of their punchers against +the very war party he had sent north to meet me, while I was chasing him. +That war party must have found something to their liking, wandering about +the country all that time." + +Blake interrupted him: "War party that he sent north to meet you?" he +asked in surprise. "How could he do that?" + +"That's just what I said," replied Shields, and then he explained about +the arrow. "Any man who could stack a deck like that and use one danger to +wipe out another ain't going to get caught by an outfit of lunkheads--by +George! if he didn't work nearly the same trick on the Cross Bar-8 crowd! +Oh, it's great, simply great!" + +The foreman slapped his knee enthusiastically: "Fine! Fine!" he exulted. +"That fellow has got brains, plenty of them! And he'll make use of them +to the good of this country, too, before we get through with him." + +Shields continued: "After he sic'd the chumps of the Cross Bar-8 on the +Apaches he shore raised the devil on the ranch and I was asked to go out +and run things, which I did, or rather thought I would do. Charley and I +and the two Larkin boys laid out on the plain all night, covered up with +sand, waiting for him to show up between us and the windows--and the first +thing I saw in the morning was Helen's flower pot here--it used to be +Margaret's--setting up on top of a pile of sand under my very nose where +he had stuck it while I waited for him--and blamed if he hadn't signed +his name in the sand at its base!" He suddenly turned to his sister: +"Tell Tom about him calling on you while I was waiting for him out on +the ranch, Helen." + +Helen did so and the way she told it caused the women to look keenly at +her. + +Blake laughed heartily: "Now, don't that beat all!" he cried. + +"It don't beat this," responded the sheriff, turning again to Helen. "Tell +him about the stage coach, Sis." + +"Well, I don't know much about the first part of it," she replied. "All I +remember is a terrible ride --oh, it was awful!" she cried, shuddering as +she remembered the tortures of the Concord. "But when we stopped and +after I managed to get out of the coach I saw the driver carrying a man on +his shoulders and coming toward us. He laid his burden down and revived +him--and he was a young man, and covered with blood." Then she paused: +"He was real nice and polite and didn't seem to think that he had done +anything out of the ordinary. Then we went on and he left us." + +The sheriff laughed and leveled an accusing finger at her: + +"You have left out a whole lot, Sis," he said affectionately. "Helen acted +just like the thoroughbred she is, Tom," he continued. "I guess Bill told +you all about it, for he's aired it purty well. Why, she even lost her +gold pin a-helping him!" and he grinned broadly. + +Helen shot him a warning glance, but it was too late; Mary suddenly sat +bolt upright, her expression one of shocked surprise. + +"Helen Shields!" she cried, "and I never thought of it before! How could +you do it! Why, that horrid man will show your pin and boast about it to +everybody! The idea! I'm surprised at you!" + +"Tut, tut," exclaimed Shields. "I reckon that pin is all right. He might +find it handy some day to return it, it'll be a good excuse when he gets +on his feet. And I'd hate to be the man to laugh at it, or try to take it +from him. Now, come, Mary, think of it right; it was the first kind act +he had known since he lost his daddy. And that pin is one of my main +stand-bys in this game. I believe that he'll be square as long as he +has it." + +"Well, I don't care, James," warmly responded Mary. "It was _not_ a modest +thing to do when she had never seen him before, and he her brother's +enemy and an outlaw!" + +"How could I have fastened the bandage, sister dear?" asked Helen, her +complexion slightly more colored than its natural shade. "It was so very +little to do after all he had done for us!" + +"Well, Tom and I have some business to talk over, so we'll leave you +to fight the matter out among yourselves," the sheriff said, arising. +"Come to my room, Tom, I want to talk over that ranch scheme with you. +You bring the coffee pot and the cigars and I'll juggle the pie and +gingerbread," he laughed as he led the way. + +"Oh, Tom!" hastily called Mrs. Shields after good-nights had been said, +and just before the door closed; "I promised you a dinner for your boys +when Helen and Mary came, and if you think you can spare them this coming +Sunday I will have it then." + +"Thank you, Mrs. Shields," earnestly responded Blake, turning on the +threshold. "It is awful good of you to put yourself out that way, and you +can bet that the boys will be your devoted slaves ever after. If you +must go to that trouble, why, Sunday or any day you may name will do for +us. Gosh, but won't they be tickled!" he exulted as he pictured them +feasting on goodies. "It'll be better than a circus, it shore will!" + +"Why, it's no trouble at all, Tom," she replied, smiling at being able +to bring cheer to a crowd of men, lonely, as she thought. "And you will +arrange to have The Orphan with them, won't you?" + +"I most certainly will," he heartily replied. "It'll do wonders for him." +He glanced quickly at Helen, but she was busily engaged in threading a +needle under the lamp shade. + +"Good night, all," he said as he closed the door. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +AN UNDERSTANDING + + +Blake settled himself in the easy chair which his host pushed over to +him and crossed his feet on the seat of another, and became the +personification of contentment. One of the black Perfectos which a +friend in the East kept Shields supplied with, was tenderly nursed by his +lips, its fragrant smoke slowly issuing from his nose and mouth, +yielding its delights to a man who knew a good cigar when he smoked it, +and who knew how to smoke it. At his elbow stood a coffee pot, flanked +on one side by a plate piled high with gingerbread; on the other by an +apricot pie. His eyes half-closed and his arms were folded, and a great +peace stole over him. He had the philosopher's mind which so readily +yields to the magic touch of a perfect cigar. In that short space of +time he was recompensed for a life of hardships, perils and but few +pleasures. + +They sat each lost in his own thoughts, in a silence broken only by the +very low and indistinct hum of women's voices and the loud ticking of the +clock, which soon struck ten. The foreman sighed, stirred to knock the +ashes from his cigar, and then slowly reached his hand toward the pie. +Shields came to himself and very gravely relighted his cigar, watching +the blue smoke stream up over the lamp. He looked at his contented friend +for a few seconds and then broke the silence. + +"Tom," he said, "what I'm going to tell you now is all meat. I couldn't +say anything about it while the women were around, for they shore worry a +lot and there wasn't no good in scaring them. + +"The Cross Bar-8 outfit got saddled with the idea that they wanted a +new sheriff, and four of them didn't care a whole lot how they made the +necessary vacancy. I got word that they were going to pay Bill Howland +for the part he played, and on the face of it there wasn't nothing more +than that. It was natural enough that they were sore on him, and that +they would try to square matters. Well, of course, I couldn't let him +get wiped out and I took cards in the game. But, Lord, it wasn't what I +reckoned it was at all. He was in for his licking, all right, but _he_ +was the _little_ fish--and _I_ was the _big_ one. + +"They got Bill in the defile of the Backbone and were going to lynch +him--they beat him up shameful. He wouldn't tell them that I was +hand-in-glove with The Orphan, which they wanted to hear, so they tried to +scare him to lie, but it was no go. + +"Well, I followed Bill and, to make it short, that is just what they had +figured on. They posted an outpost to get the drop on me when I showed +up, and he got it. Tex Williard seemed to be the officer in charge, +and he asked me questions and suggested things that made me fighting +mad inside. But I was as cool as I could be apparently, for it ain't +no good to lose your temper in a place like that. I suppose they wanted +me to get out on the warpath so they could frame up some story about +self-defense. It looked bad for me, with three of them having their guns +on me, and Tex Williard had just given me an ultimatum and had counted +two, when, d----d if The Orphan didn't take a hand from up on the wall +of the defile. That let me get my guns out, and the rest was easy. We let +Bill get square on the gang for the beating he had got, by whipping +all of them to the queen's taste. When they got so they could stand up I +told them a few things and ordered them out of the country, and they were +blamed glad to get the chance to go, too. + +"The Orphan didn't have to mix up in that, not at all, and it makes the +third time he's put his head in danger to help me or mine, and he took big +chances every time. How in h--l can I help liking him? Can I be blamed +for treating him white and square when he's done so much for me? He is so +chock full of grit and squareness that I'll throw up this job rather than +to go out after him for his past deeds, and I mean it, too, Tom." + +Blake reached for another piece of pie, held his hand over it in +uncertainty and then, changing his mind, took gingerbread for a change. + +"Well, I reckon you're right, Jim," he replied. "Anyhow, it don't make +a whole lot of difference whether you are or not. You're the sheriff of +this layout, and you're to do what you think best, and that's the idea +of most of the people out here, too. If you want to experiment, that's +your business, for you'll be the first to get bit if you're wrong. And +it ain't necessary to tell you that your friends will back you up in +anything you try. Personally, I am rather glad of what you're doing, +for I like that man's looks, as I said before, and he'll be just the kind +of a puncher I want. He's a man that'll fight like h--l for the man he +ties up to and who treats him square. If he ain't, I'm getting childish +in my judgment." + +"I sent him to you," the sheriff continued, "because I wanted to get +him in with a good outfit and under a man who would be fair with him. I +knew that you would give him every chance in the world. And then Helen +takes such an interest in him, being young and sympathetic and romantic, +that I wanted to please her if I could, and I can. She'll be very much +pleased now that I've given him a start in the right direction and there +ain't nothing I can do for her that is not going to be done. She's a +blamed fine girl, Tom, as nice a girl as ever lived." + +"She shore is--there ain't no doubt about that!" cried the foreman, and +then he frowned slightly. "But have you thought of what all this might +develop into?" he asked, leaning forward in his earnestness. "It's shore +funny how I should think of such a thing, for it ain't in my line at all, +but the idea just sort of blew into my head." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Well, Helen, being young and sympathetic and romantic, as you said, +and owing her own life and the lives of her sister and friend, not to +mention yours, to him, might just go and fall in love with him, and I +reckon that if she did, she would stick to him in spite of hell. He's a +blamed good-looking, attractive fellow, full of energy and grit, somewhat +of a mystery, and women are strong on mysteries, and he might nurse +ideas about having some one to make gingerbread and apricot pie for +him; and if he does, as shore as God made little apples, it'll be Helen +that he'll want. He's never seen as pretty a girl, she's been kind and +sympathetic with him, and I'm willing to bet my hat that he's lost a bit +of sleep about her already. Good Lord, what can you expect? She pities +him, and what do the books say about pity?" + +The sheriff thought for a minute and then looked up with a peculiar light +in his eyes. + +"For a bachelor you're doing real well," he said, still thinking hard. + +"Being a bachelor don't mean that I ain't never rubbed elbows with women," +replied the foreman. "There are some people that are bachelors because +they are too darned smart to get roped and branded because the moon +happens to be real bright. But I'll confess to you that I ain't a bachelor +because I didn't want to get roped. We won't say any more about that, +however." + +"Well," said Shields, slowly. "If he tries to get her before I know that +he is straight and clean and good enough for her, I'll just have to +stop him any way I can. First of all, I'm looking out for my sister, +the h--l with anybody else. But on the other hand, if he makes good and +wants her bad enough to rustle for two and she has her mind made up that +she'd rather have him than stay single and is head over heels in love +with him, I don't see that there's anything to worry about. I tell you +that he is a good man, a real man, and if he changes like I want him +to, she would be a d----d sight better off with him than with some dudish +tenderfoot in love with money. He has had such a God-forsaken life that +he will be able to appreciate a change like that--he would be square as a +brick with her and attentive and loyal--and with him she wouldn't run +much chance of being left a widow. Why, I'll bet he'll worship the ground +she walks on--she could wind him all around her little finger and he'd +never peep. And she would have the best protection that walks around these +parts. But, pshaw, all this is too far ahead of the game. How about that +herd of cattle you spoke of?" + +"I can get you the whole herd dirt cheap," replied the foreman. "And they +are as hungry and healthy a lot as you could wish." + +"Well," responded the sheriff, "I've made up my mind to go ranching +again. I can't stand this loafing, for it don't amount to much more than +that now that The Orphan has graduated out of the outlaw class. I can run +a ranch and have plenty of time to attend to the sheriff part of it, +too. Ever since I sold the Three-S I have been like a fish out of water. +When I got rid of it I put the money away in Kansas City, thinking that I +might want to go back at it again. Then I got rid of that mine and bunked +the money with the ranch money. The interest has been accumulating for +a long time now and I have got something over thirty thousand lying idle. +Now, I'm going to put it to work. + +"I ran across Crawford last week, and he is dead anxious to sell out and +go back East--he don't like the West. I've determined to take the A-Y off +his hands, for it's a good ranch, has good buildings on it, two fine +windmills over driven wells, good grass and shelters. Why, he has put +up shelters in Long Valley that can't be duplicated under a thousand +dollars. His terms are good--five thousand down and the balance in +installments of two thousand a year at three per cent., and I can get +_over_ three per cent, while it is lying waiting to be paid to him. He +is too blamed sick of his white elephant to haggle over terms. He was +foolish to try to run it himself and to sink so much money in driven +wells, windmills and buildings--it would astonish you to know how much +money he spent in paint alone. What did he know about ranching, anyhow? +He can't hardly tell a cow from a heifer. He said that he knew how to +make money earn money in the East, but that he couldn't make a cent +raising cows. + +"If The Orphan attends to his new deal I'll put him in charge and the +rest lies with him. I'll provide him with a good outfit, everything he +needs and, if he makes good and the ranch pays, I'll fix it so he can +own a half-interest in it at less than it cost me, and that will give +him a good job to hold down for the rest of his life. It'll be something +for him to tie to in case of squalls, but there ain't much danger of his +becoming unsteady, because if he was at all inclined to that sort of thing +he would be dead now. + +"This ain't no fly-away notion, as you know. I've had an itching for a +good ranch for several years, and for just about that length of time +I've had my eyes on the A-Y. I was going to buy it when Crawford gobbled +it up at that fancy price and I felt a little put out when he took up +his option on it, but I'm glad he did, now. Why, Reeves sold out to +Crawford for almost three times what I am going to pay for it, and it +has been improved fifty per cent. since he has had it. But, of course, +there was more cattle then than there is now. You get me that herd at +a good figure and I'll be able to take care of them very soon now, just +as soon as I close the deal. But, mind you, no Texas cattle goes--I don't +want any Spanish fever in mine. + +"I'm thinking some of putting Charley in charge temporarily, just as +soon as Sneed gets some men, and when The Orphan takes it over things will +be in purty fair shape. I won't move out there because my wife don't +like ranching--she wants to be in town where she is near somebody, but +I'll spend most of my time out there until everything gets in running +order. Oh, yes--in consideration of the five thousand down at the time +the papers are signed, Crawford has agreed to leave the ranch-house +furnished practically as it is, and that will be nice for Helen and The +Orphan if they ever should decide to join hands in double blessedness. +You used to have a lot of fun about the high-faluting fixings in your +ranch-house, but just wait 'til you see this one! An inside look around +will open your eyes some, all right. It is a wonder, a real wonder! +Running water from the windmills, a bath-room, sinks in the kitchen, a +wood-burning boiler in the cellar, and all the comforts possible. If +Crawford tries to move all that stuff back East it would cost him more +than he could get for it, and he knows it, too. It's a bargain at twice +the price, and I'm going to nail it. I can't think of anything else." + +"Well," replied Blake, "I don't see how you could do anything better, +that's sure. It all depends on the price, and if you're satisfied with +that, there ain't no use of turning it down. I know you can make money +out there with any kind of attention, for I'm purty well acquainted with +the A-Y. And I'll see about the cattle next week, but you better leave +The Orphan stay with me a while longer. My boys are the best crowd that +ever lived in a bunk-house, and if he minds his business they'll smooth +down his corners until you won't hardly know him; and they'll teach him a +little about the cow-puncher game if he's rusty. + +"You remember the time we had that killing out there, don't you?" Blake +asked. "Well, you also remember that we agreed to cut out all gunplay on +the ranch in the future, and that I sent East for some boxing gloves, +which were to be used in case anybody wanted to settle any trouble. +They have been out there for two years now, and haven't been used except +in fun. Give the boys a chance and they'll cure him of the itching +trigger-finger, all right. They're only a lot of big-hearted, overgrown +kids, and they can get along with the devil himself if he'll let them. +But they are hell-fire and brimstone when aroused," then he laughed +softly: "They heard about your trouble with Sneed and they shore was +dead anxious to call on the Cross Bar-8 and make a few remarks about +long life and happiness, but I made them wait 'til they should be sent for. + +"They know all about The Orphan--that is, as much as I did before I +called to-night. Joe Haines is a great listener and when he rustles our +mail once a week he takes it all in, so of course they know all about +it. They had a lot of fun about the way he made the Cross Bar-8 sit +up and take notice, for they ain't wasting any love on Sneed's crowd. +And it took Bill Howland over an hour to tell Joe about his experiences. +So when The Orphan met the outfit they knew him to be the man who had +saved the sheriff's sisters, which went a long way with them. Say, Jim," +he exclaimed, "can I tell them what you said about him to-night? Let +me tell them everything, for it'll go far with them, especially with +Silent, who had some trouble with the U-B about five years ago. He was +taking a herd of about three thousand head across their range and he +swears yet at the treatment he got. Yes? All right, it'll make him solid +with the outfit." + +"Tell them anything you want about him," said the sheriff, "but don't say +anything about the A-Y. I want to keep it quiet for a while." + +Shields poured himself a cup of coffee and then glanced at the clock: "Too +late for a game, Tom?" he asked, expectantly. + +The foreman laughed: "It's seldom too late for that," he replied. + +"Good enough!" cried his host. "What shall it be this time--pinochle or +crib?" + +The foreman slowly closed his eyes as he replied: "Either suits me--this +feed has made me plumb easy to please. Why, I'd even play casino to-night!" + +"Well, what do you say to crib?" asked the sheriff. "You licked me so bad +at it the last time you were here that I hanker to get revenge." + +"Well, I don't blame you for wanting to get it, but I'll tell you right +now that you won't, for I can lick the man that invented crib to-night," +laughed the foreman. "Bring out your cards." + +Shields placed the cards on the table and arranged things where they would +be handy while his friend shuffled the pack. + +The foreman pushed the cards toward his host: "There you are--low deals +as usual, I suppose." + +"Oh, you might as well go ahead and deal," grumbled the sheriff +good-naturedly. "I don't remember ever cutting low enough for you--by +George! A five!" + +Blake picked up the cards and started to deal, but the sheriff stopped him. + +"Hey! You haven't cut yet!" Shields cried, putting his hand on the cards. +"What are you doing, anyhow?" + +Blake laughed with delight: "Well, anybody that can't cut lower than a +five hadn't ought to play the game. What's the use of wasting time?" + +"Well, you never mind about the time--you go ahead and beat me," cried +the sheriff. "Of all the nerve!" + +Blake picked up the cards again: "Do you want to cut again?" he asked. + +"Not a bit of it! That five stands!" + +"Well, how would a four do?" asked the foreman, lifting his hand. "It's a +three!" he exulted. "All that time wasted," he said. + +"You go to blazes," pleasantly replied the sheriff as he sorted his hand. +"This ain't so bad for you, not at all bad; you could have done worse, +but I doubt it." He discarded, cut, and Blake turned a six. + +"Seven," called Shields as he played. + +"Seventeen," replied Blake, playing a queen. + +"No you don't, either," grinned the sheriff. "You can play that four later +if you want to, but not now on twenty-seven. Call it twenty-five," he +said, playing an eight. + +Blake carefully scanned his hand and finally played the four, grumbling a +little as his friend laughed. + +"Thirty-one--first blood," remarked the sheriff, dropping the deuce. + +While he pegged his points Blake suddenly laughed. + +"Say, Jim," he said, "before I forget it I want to tell you a joke on +Humble. He thought it would be easy money if he taught Lee Lung how +to play poker. He bothered Lee's life out of him for several days, and +finally the Chinaman consented to learn the great American game." + +Blake played a six and the sheriff scored two by pairing, whereupon his +opponent made it threes for six, and took a point for the last card. + +"As I was saying, Humble wanted the cook to learn poker. Lee's face was +as blank as a cow's, and Humble had to explain everything several times +before the cook seemed to understand what he was driving at. Anybody would +have thought he had been brought up in a monastery and that he didn't know +a card from an army mule." + +Blake pegged his seven points and picked up his cards without breaking +the story. + +"But Lee had awful luck, and in half an hour he owned half of Humble's +next month's pay. Now, every time he gets a chance he shows Humble the +cards and asks for a game. 'Nicee game, ploker, nicee game,' he'll say. +What Humble says is pertinent, profane and permeating. Then the boys guy +him to a finish. He'll be wanting to teach Lee how to play fan-tan some +day, so the boys say. Lee must have graduated in poker before Humble +ever heard of the game." + +Shields laughed heartily and swiftly ran over his cards. + +"Fifteen two, four, six, a pair is eight, and a double run of three is +fourteen. Real good," he said as he pegged. "Passed the crack that time. +What have you got?" + +The foreman put his cards down, found three sixes and then turned the crib +face up. "Pair of tens and His Highness," he grumbled. "Only three in that +crib!" + +"That's what you get for cutting a three," laughed the sheriff. + +The game continued until the striking of the clock startled the guest. + +"Midnight!" he cried. "Thirty miles before I get to bed--no, no, I can't +stay with you to-night --much obliged, all the same." + +He clapped his sombrero on his head and started for the door: "Well, +better luck next time, Jim--three twenty-four hands shore did make a +difference. Right where they were needed, too. So long." + +"Sorry you won't stay, Tom," called his friend from the door as the +foreman mounted. "You might just as well, you know." + +"I'm sorry, too, but I've got to be on hand to-morrow--anyway, it's bright +moonlight--so long!" he cried as he cantered away. + +"Hey, Tom!" cried the sheriff, leaping from the porch and running to the +gate. "Tom!" + +"Hullo, what is it?" asked the foreman, drawing rein and returning. + +"Smoke this on your way, it'll seem shorter," said the sheriff, holding +out a cigar. + +"By George, I will!" laughed Blake. "That's fine, you're all right!" + +"Be good," cried the sheriff, watching his friend ride down the street. + +"Shore enough good--I have to be," floated back to his ears. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE FLYING-MARE + + +The Sunday morning following Blake's visit to Ford's Station found the +Star C in excitement. Notwithstanding the fact that on every pleasant +night after the day's work had been done it was the custom for the outfit +to indulge in a swim, and that Saturday night had been very pleasant, the +Limping Water was being violently disturbed, and laughter and splashing +greeted the sun as it looked over the rim of the bank. Cakes of soap +glistened on the sand on the west bank and towels hung from convenient +limbs of the bushes which fringed the creek. + +Silent, who was noted among his companions for the length of time he +could stay under water, challenged them to a submersion test. The rules +were simple, inasmuch as they consisted in all plunging under at the +same time, the winner being he who was the last man up. Silent had +steadfastly refused to have his endurance timed, which his friends +mistook for modesty, and no sooner had all "ducked under" than his head +popped up--but this time he was not alone. Humble, whose utmost limit +was not over half a minute, grew angry at his inability to make a good +showing and craftily determined to take a handicap. The two stared at +each other for a space and then burst into laughter, forgetting for the +time being what they should do. Other heads bobbed up, and the secret +was out. Only that Silent was the best swimmer in the crowd saved him +from a ducking, and as it was he had to grab his clothes and run. + +After being assured that he was forgiven for his trickery he rejoined his +friends and his towel. + +More fun was now the rule, for dressing required care. The sandy west bank +sloped gradually to the water's edge, and it was necessary to stand on one +foot on a small stone in the water while the other was dipped to remove +the sand. Still on one foot the other must be dried, the stocking put on, +then the trouser leg and lastly the boot, and woe to the man who lost his +balance and splashed stocking and trouser leg as he wildly sought to +save it! Humble splashed while his foot was only half-way through the +trouser leg, and The Orphan fared even worse. Then a race of awkward +runners was on toward the bunk house, where breakfast was annihilated. + +"Hey, Tom, what time do we leave?" asked Bud for the fifth time. + +"Nine o'clock, you chump," replied the foreman. + +"Three whole hours yet," grumbled Jim as he again plastered his hair to +his head. + +"I'll lose my appetite shore," worried Humble. "We got up too blamed +early, that's what we did." + +"Why, here's Humble!" cried Silent in mock surprise. "Do _you_ like +apricot pie, and gingerbread and _real_ coffee?" + +"You go to the devil," grumbled Humble. "You wouldn't 'a' been asked at +all, only she couldn't very well cut you out of it when she asked me +along. _I_'m the one she really wants to feed; you fellers just happen +to tag on behind, that's all." + +"Going to take Lightning with you, Humble?" asked Docile, winking at the +others. + +"Why, I shore am," replied Humble in surprise. "Do you reckon I'd leave +him and that d-----d Chink all alone together, you sheep?" + +"I was afraid you wouldn't," pessimistically grumbled Docile, but here +he smiled hopefully. "Suppose you take Lee Lung and leave the dog here?" +he queried. + +"Suppose you quit supposing with your feet!" sarcastically countered +Humble. "I know you ain't got much brains, but you might exercise what +little you have got once in a while. It won't hurt you none after you +get used to it." + +"How are you going to carry him, Humble--like a papoose?" queried Joe with +a great show of interest. + +Humble stared at him: "Huh!" he muttered, being too much astonished to +say more. + +"I asked you how you are going to carry your fighting wolfhound," Joe +said without the quiver of an eyelash. "I thought mebby you was going to +sling him on your back like a papoose." + +"Carry him! Papoose!" ejaculated Humble in withering irony. "What do you +reckon his legs are for? He ain't no statue, he ain't no ornament, he's a +dog." + +"Well, I knowed he ain't no ornament, but I wasn't shore about the rest of +it," responded Joe. "I only wanted to know how he'd get to town. There +ain't no crime in asking about that, is there? I know he can't follow the +gait we'll hit up for thirty miles, so I just naturally asked, _sabe?"_ + +"Oh, you did, did you!" cried Humble, not at all humbly. "He can't follow +us, can't he?" he yelled belligerently. + +"He shore can't, cross my heart," asserted Silent in great earnestness. +"If he runs to Ford's Station after us and gets there inside of two days +I'll buy him a collar. That goes." + +"Huh!" snorted Humble in disgust, "he won't wear your old collar after he +wins it. He's got too much pride to wear anything you'll give him." + +"He couldn't, you mean," jabbed Jim. "He's so plumb tender that it would +strain his back to carry it. Why, he has to sit down and rest if more'n +two flies get on the same spot at once." + +"He can't wag his tail more'n three times in an hour," added Bud, "and +when he scratches hisself he has to rest for the remainder of the day." + +Humble turned to The Orphan in an appealing way: "Did you ever see so many +d----d fools all at once?" he beseeched. + +The Orphan placed his finger to his chin and thought for fully half a +minute before replying: "I was just figuring," he explained in apology +for his abstraction. Then his face brightened: "You can tie him up in +a blanket--that's the best way. Yes, sir, tie him up in a blanket and +sling him at the pommel. We'll take turns carrying him." + +"Purple h--l!" yelled Humble. "You're another! The whole crowd are a lot +of ----!" + +"Sing it, Humble," suggested Tad, laughing. "Sing it!" + +"Whistle some of it, and send the rest by mail," assisted Jack Lawson. + +"Seen th' dlog?" came a bland, monotonous voice from the doorway, where +Lee Lung stood holding a chunk of beef in one hand, while his other hand +was hidden behind his back. Over his left shoulder projected half a foot +of club, which he thought concealed. "Seen th' dlog?" he repeated, smiling. + +"Miss Mirandy and holy hell!" shouted Humble, leaping forward at sight of +the club. There was a swish! and Humble rebounded from the door, at which +he stared. From the rear of the house came more monotonous words: "Nice +dlog-gie. Pletty Lightling. Here come. Gette glub," and Humble galloped +around the corner of the house, swearing at every jump. + +When the laughter had died down Blake smiled grimly: "Some day Lee _will_ +get that dog, and when he does he'll get him good and hard. Then we'll +have to get another cook. I've told him fifty times if I've told him once +not to let it go past a joke, but it's no use." + +"He won't hurt the cur, he's only stringing Humble," said Bud. "Nobody +would hurt a dog that minded his own business." + +"If anybody hit a dog of mine for no cause, he wouldn't do it again unless +he got me first," quietly remarked The Orphan. + +Jim hastily pointed to the corner of the house where a club projected into +sight: "There's Lee now!" he whispered hurriedly. "He's laying for him!" + +There was a sudden spurt of flame and smoke and the club flew several +yards, struck by three bullets. Humble hopped around the corner holding +his hand, his words too profane for repetition. + +Smoke filtered from The Orphan's holster and eyes opened wide in surprise +at the wonderful quickness of his gunplay, for no one had seen it. All +there was was smoke. + +"Good God!" breathed Blake, staring at the marksman, who had stepped +forward and was explaining to Humble. "It's a good thing Shields was +square!" he muttered. + +"Did you see that?" asked Bud of Jim in whispered awe. "And I thought _I_ +was some beans with a six-shooter!" + +"No, but I heard it--was they one or six?" replied Jim. + +"I didn't know it was you, Humble," explained The Orphan. "I thought it +was the Chink laying for the dog." + +"---- ----! Good for you!" cried Humble in sudden friendliness. "You're +all right, Orphant, but will you be sure next time? That stung like +blazes," he said as he held out his hand. "I can always tell a white +man by the way he treats a dog. If all men were as good as dogs this world +would be a blamed sight nicer place to live in, and don't you forget it." + +"Still going to take Lightning with you, Humble?" asked Bud. + +"No, I ain't going to take Lightning with me!" snapped Humble. "I'm going +to leave him right here on the ranch," here his voice arose to a roar, +"and if any sing-song, rope-haired, animated hash-wrastler gets gay while +I'm gone, I'll send him to his heathen hell!" + +"Come on, boys," said Blake, snapping his watch shut. "Time to get going." + +"Glory be!" exulted Silent, executing a few fancy steps toward the corral, +his companions close behind, with the exception of The Orphan, who had +gone into the bunk house for a minute. + +As they whooped their way toward the town Blake noticed that a gold +pin glittered at the knot of the new recruit's neck-kerchief, and he +chuckled when he recalled the warning he had given to the sheriff. He +shrewdly guessed that the apricot pie and the rest of the feast were +quite subordinated by The Orphan to the girl who had given him the pin. + +Bud suddenly turned in his saddle and pointed to a jackrabbit which +bounded away across the plain like an animated shadow. + +"Now, if Humble's bloodhound was only here," he said, "we would rope that +jack and make the cur fight it. It would be a fine fight, all right," he +laughed. + +"You go to the devil," grunted Humble, and he started ahead at full speed. +"Come on!" he cried. "Come on, you snails!" and a race was on. + + . . . . . + +The citizens of Ford's Station saw a low-hanging cloud of dust which +rolled rapidly up from the west and soon a hard-riding crowd of cowboys, +in gala attire, galloped down the main street of the town. They slowed +to a canter and rode abreast in a single line, the arms of each man over +the shoulders of his nearest companions, and all sang at the top of +their lungs. On the right end rode Blake, and on the left was The +Orphan. Bill Howland ran out into the street and spotted his new friend +immediately and swung his hat and cheered for the man who had helped +him out of two bad holes. The Orphan broke from the line and shook +hands with the driver, his face wreathed by a grin. + +"You old son-of-a-gun!" cried Bill, delighted at the familiarity from so +noted a person as the former outlaw. "How are you, hey?" + +The line cried warm greeting as it swung around to shake his hand, and +the driver's chest took on several inches of girth. + +"Hullo, Bill!" cried Bud with a laugh. "Seen your old friend Tex lately?" + +"Yes, I did," replied Bill. "I saw him out on Thirty-Mile Stretch, but he +didn't do nothing but swear. He didn't want no more run-ins with me, all +right, and, besides, my rifle was across my knees. He said as how he was +going to come back some day and start things moving about this old town, +and I told him to begin with the Star C when he did." + +He looked across the street and waved his hand at a group of his friends +who were looking on. "Come on over, fellows," he cried, and when they had +done so he turned and introduced The Orphan to them. + +"This ugly cuss here is Charley Winter; this slab-sided curiosity is Tommy +Larkin, and here is his brother Al; Chet Dare, Duke Irwin, Frank Hicks, +Hoke Jones, Gus Shaw and Roy Purvis. All good fellows, every one of them, +and all friends of the sheriff. Here comes Jed Carr, the only man in the +whole town who ain't afraid of me since I licked them punchers in the +defile. Hullo, Jed! Shake hands with the man who played h--l with the +Cross Bar-8 and the Apaches." + +"Glad to meet you, Orphan," remarked Jed as he shook hands. "Punching +for the Star C, eh? Good crowd, most of them, as they run, though Humble +ain't very much." + +"He ain't, ain't he?" grinned that puncher. "You're some sore about that +day when I cleaned up all your cush at poker, ain't you? Ain't had time to +get over it, have you? Want to borrow some?" + +"You want to look out for Humble, Jed," bantered Bud. "He's taken a lesson +at poker from our cook since he played you. Didn't you, Easy?" he asked +Humble. + +The roar of laughter which followed Bud's words forced Humble to stand +treat: "Come on over and have something with the only man in the crowd +that's got any money," he said. + +When they had lined up against the bar jokes began to fly thick and fast +and The Orphan felt a peculiar elation steal over him as he slowly puffed +at his cigar. Suddenly the door flew open and Bill's glass dropped from +his hand. + +"Bucknell, by God! And as drunk as a fool!" he exclaimed. + +The puncher whom The Orphan had tied up above the defile leaned against +the door frame and his gun wavered from point to point unsteadily as he +tried to peer into the dim interior of the room, his face leering as he +sought, with a courage born of drink, for the man who had made a fool of +him. + +A bottle crashed against the wall at his side, and as he lurched forward, +glancing at the broken glass, a figure leaped to meet him and with +agile strength grasped his right wrist, wheeled and got his shoulder +under Bucknell's armpit, took two short steps and straightened up with +a jerk. The intruder left the floor and flew headforemost through the +air, crashing against the rear wall, where he fell to the floor and lay +quiet. The Orphan, having foresworn unnecessary gunplay, and always +scorning to shoot a drunken man, had executed a clever, quick flying-mare. + +As the sheriff stepped into the room Blake ran forward and lifted Bucknell +to his feet, supporting him until he could stand alone. The puncher was +greatly sobered by the shock and blinked confusedly about him. The Orphan +was smoking nonchalantly at the bar and Bill had just given the sheriff +the victim's gun. + +"What's the matter?" asked Bucknell, rubbing his forehead, which was cut +and bruised. + +"Nothing's the matter, yet," answered Shields shortly. "But there would +have been if you hadn't been too drunk to know what you was doing. I saw +you and tried to get here first, but it's all right now. Take your gun +and get out. Here," he exclaimed, "you promise me to behave yourself and +you can go back to Sneed, for he needs you. Otherwise, it's out of the +country after Tex for you. Is it a go?" + +"What was that, and who done it?" asked Bucknell, clinging to the bar. +"What was it?" he repeated. + +"That was me trying to throw you through the wall," said the sheriff, +wishing to give Bucknell no greater cause for animosity against The +Orphan, and for the peace of the community; and also because he wished to +help The Orphan to refrain from using his gun in the future. "And I'd +'a' done it, too, only my hand was sweaty. Will you do what I said?" he +asked. + +Bucknell straightened up and staggered past the sheriff to where The +Orphan stood: "You done that, but it's all right, ain't it?" he asked. +"You ain't sore, are you?" His eyes had a crafty look, but the dimness +of the room concealed it, and The Orphan did not notice the look. + +"It's all right, Bucknell, and I ain't sore," he replied. "I won't be sore +if you do what the sheriff wants you to." + +"All right, all right," replied Bucknell. "Have a drink on me, boys. It's +all right now, ain't it? Have a drink on me." + +"No more drinking to-day," quickly said the bartender at a look from +Shields. "All the good stuff is used up and the rest ain't fit for dogs, +let alone my friends. Wait 'til next time, when I'll have some new." + +"That's too d----d bad," replied Bucknell, leering at the crowd. "Have a +smoke, then. Come on, have a smoke with me." + +"We shore will, Bucknell," responded Shields quickly. + +As the cowboy started for the door the sheriff placed a hand on his +shoulder: "You behave yourself, Bucknell," he said. "So long." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE FEAST + + +Joyous whoops, loud and heartfelt, brought the women to the door of the +sheriff's house in time to see their guests dismount. A perfect babel of +words greeted their appearance as the cowboys burst into a running fire +of jokes, salutations and comments. Even the ponies seemed to know that +something important and unusual was taking place, for they cavorted +and bit and squealed to prove that they were in accord with the spirit of +their riders and that thirty miles in less than three hours had not +subdued them. Bright colors prevailed, for the neck-kerchiefs in most +cases were new and yet showed the original folding creases, while new, +clean thongs of rawhide and glittering bits of metal flashed back the +sunlight. Spurs glittered and the clean looking horses appeared to have +had a dip in the Limping Water. Blake had hunted through the carpeted +rooms of his ranch-house for decorations, and in the drawer of a table +he had found a bunch of ribbons of many kinds and shades. These now +fluttered from the pommels of the saddles and in one case a red ribbon +was twined about the leg of a vicious pinto, and the pinto was not at +all pleased by the decoration. + +The sheriff led the way to the house closely followed by Blake, the others +coming in the order of their nerve. The Orphan was last, not from lack of +courage, but rather because of strategy. He thought that Helen would +remain at the door to welcome each arrival and if he was in the van +he would be passed on to make way for those behind him. Being the last +man he hoped to be able to say more to her than a few words of greeting. +As he mounted the steps she was drawn into the room for something and he +stepped to one side on the porch, well knowing that she would miss him. + +Bud poked his head out the door and started to say something, but The +Orphan fiercely whispered for him to be silent and to disappear, which +Bud did after grinning exasperatingly. + +The man on the porch was growing impatient when he heard the light +swish of skirts around the corner of the house. Sauntering carelessly to +the corner he looked into the back-yard and saw Helen with a tray in +her hands, nearing the back door. She espied him and stopped, flushing +suddenly as he leaped lightly to the ground and walked rapidly toward +her. Her cheeks became a deeper red when he stopped before her and took +the tray, for his eyes were rebellious and would not be subdued, and the +first thing she saw was the gold pin which stood out boldly against +the dark blue neck-kerchief. She was rarely beautiful in her white dress, +and the ribbon which she wore at her throat did not detract in its +effect. Later her sister was to wonder if it was a coincidence that the +ribbon and his neck-kerchief were so good a match in color. + +She welcomed him graciously and he felt a sudden new and strangely +exhilarating sensation steal over him as he took the hand she held out, +the tray all the while bobbing recklessly in his other hand. + +"Why aren't you in the house paying your respects to your hostess?" she +chided half in jest and half in earnest. + +"The delay will but add to my fervor when I do," he replied, "for I will +have had a stimulus then. As long as the hostesses are four and insist +on not being together, how can I pay my respects all at once?" + +"But there is only one hostess," she laughingly corrected. "I am afraid +you are not very good at making excuses. You probably never felt the need +to make them before. You see, I, too, am only a guest." + +"We two," he corrected daringly. + +"I am very glad to see you," she said, leading away from plurals. "You +are looking very well and much more contented. And then, this is ever so +much nicer than our first meeting, isn't it? No horrid Apaches." + +"I've gotten so that I rather like Apaches," he replied. "They are so +useful at times. But you mustn't try to tempt me to subordinate that +eventful day, not yet. It can't be done, although I've never tried to do +it," he hastily assured her, making a gesture of helplessness. "Sometimes +an unexpected incident will change the habits of a lifetime, making +the days seem brighter, and yet, somehow, adding a touch of sadness. I +have been a stranger to myself since then, restless, absentminded, moody +and hungry for I know not what." He paused and then slowly continued, "I +must beg to remain loyal to that day of all days when you bathed an +outlaw's head and showed your love for fair play and kindness." + +"Goodness!" she cried, for one instant meeting his eager eyes. "Why, I +thought it was a terrible day! And you really think differently?" + +"Very much so," he assured her as she withdrew her hand from his. "You +see, it was such a new and delightful experience to save a stage coach +and then find that it was a hospital with a wonderful doctor. I accused +that Apache of being stingy with his lead, for he might just as well have +given me a few more wounds to have dressed." + +"Yes," she laughingly retorted, "it was almost as new an experience +as starting on a long and supposedly peaceful journey and suddenly +finding oneself in the middle of a desert surrounded by dead Indians +and doctoring an Indian killer who was at war with one's brother. And +that after a terrible shaking up lasting for over an hour. Truly it +is a day to be remembered. Now, don't you think you should hurry in and +greet my sister-in-law?" + +"Yes, certainly," he quickly responded. "But before I lose the opportunity +I must ask you if you will care if I ride over and see you occasionally, +because it is terribly lonely on that ranch." + +"You know that we shall always be glad to see you whenever you can call," +she replied, smiling up at him. "We are all very deep in your debt and +brother and all of us think a great deal of you. Are you satisfied on the +Star C, and do you like your work and your companions?" + +"Thank you," he cried happily, "I will ride over and see you once in a +while. But as for my work, it is delightful! The Star C is fine and my +companions--well, they just simply can't be beat! they are the finest, +whitest set of men that ever gathered under one roof." + +"That's very nice, I am glad that you find things so congenial," she +replied in sincerity. "James was sure that you would, for Mr. Blake is an +old friend of his." + +"I'm very anxious about this pin," he said, putting his hand on it. "May +I keep it for a while longer?" he asked with a note of appeal in his voice. + +"Why, yes," she replied, "if you wish to. But only as long as you do +not displease me, and you will not do that, will you? James has such +deep confidence in you that I know you will not disappoint him. You will +justify him in his own mind and in the minds of his acquaintances and +prove that he has not erred in judgment, won't you?" + +"If I am the sum total of your brother's trouble, he will have a path of +roses to wander through all the rest of his life," he responded earnestly. +"And I'm really afraid that you will never again wear this pin as a +possession of yours. Of course you can borrow it occasionally," and he +smiled whimsically, "but as far as displeasing you is concerned, it is +mine forever. It will really and truly be mine on that condition, won't +it? My very own if I do not forfeit it?" + +"If you wish it so," she replied quickly, her face radiant with smiles. +"And you will work hard and you will never shoot a man, no matter what the +provocation may be, unless it is absolutely necessary to do it for the +saving of your own life or that of a friend or an innocent man. Promise +me that!" she commanded imperatively, pleased at being able to dictate +to him. "Men like you never break a promise," she added impulsively. + +"I promise never to shoot a man, woman, child or--or anybody," he +laughingly replied, "unless it is necessary to save life. And I'll work +real hard and save my money. And on Sundays, rain or shine, I'll ride in +and report to my new foreman." Then a bit of his old humor came to him: +"For I just about need this pin--knots are so clumsy, you know." + +She glanced at the knot which held the pin and laughed merrily, leading +the way into the house. + +As they entered Humble was extolling the virtues of his dog, to the +broad grins of his companions, who constantly added amendments and made +corrections _sotto voce._ + +"Why, here they are!" cried the sheriff in such a tone as to suffuse +Helen's face with blushes. The Orphan coolly shook hands with him. + +"Yes, here we are, Sheriff, every one of us," he replied. "We couldn't be +expected to stay away when Mrs. Shields put herself to so much trouble, +and we're all happy and proud to be so honored. How do you do, Mrs. +Shields," he continued as he took her hand. "It is awful kind of you to go +to such trouble for a lot of lonely, hungry fellows like us." + +"Goodness sakes!" she cried, delighted at his words and pleased at the +way he had parried her husband's teasing thrust. "Why, it was no trouble +at all--you are all my boys now, you know." + +"Thank you, Mrs. Shields," he replied slowly. "We will do our very best +to prove ourselves worthy of being called your boys." + +The sheriff regarded The Orphan with a look of approbation and turned to +his sister Helen. + +"He ain't nobody's fool, eh, Sis?" he whispered. "I'm wondering how you +ever made up your mind to share him with us!" + +"Oh, please don't!" she begged in confusion. "Please don't tease me now!" + +"All right, Sis," he replied in a whisper, pinching her ear. "I'll save +it all up for some other time, some time when he ain't around to turn it +off, eh? But I don't blame him a bit for exploring the yard first--you're +the prettiest girl this side of sun-up," he said, beaming with love and +pride. "How's that for a change, eh? Worth a kiss?" + +She kissed him hurriedly and then left the room to attend to her duties +in the kitchen, and he sauntered over to where The Orphan was talking with +Mrs. Shields, his hand rubbing his lips and a mischievous twinkle in his +kind eyes. + +"Did you notice the new flower-bed right by the side of the house as you +ran past it a while ago?" he asked, flashing a keen warning to his wife. + +The Orphan searched his memory for the flower-bed and not finding it, +turned and smiled, not willing to admit that his attention had been too +fully taken up with a fairer flower than ever grew in earth. + +"Why, yes, it is real pretty," he replied. "What about it?" + +"Oh, nothing much," gravely replied the sheriff as he edged away. "Only +we were thinking of putting a flower-bed there, although I haven't had +time to get at it yet." + +The Orphan flushed and glanced quickly at the outfit, who were too busy +cracking jokes and laughing to pay any attention to the conversation +across the room. + +"James!" cried Mrs. Shields. "Aren't you ashamed of yourself!" + +"When you tickle a mule," said the sheriff, grinning at his friend, "you +want to look out for the kick. Come again sometime, Sonny." + +"James!" his wife repeated, "how can you be so mean! Now, stop teasing and +behave yourself!" + +"For a long time I've been puzzled about what you resembled, but now +I have your words for it," easily countered The Orphan. "Thank you for +putting me straight." + +The sheriff grinned sheepishly and scratched his head: "I'm an old fool," +he grumbled, and forthwith departed to tell Helen of the fencing. + +Mrs. Shields excused herself and followed her husband into the kitchen to +look after the dinner, and The Orphan sauntered over to his outfit just +as Jim looked out of a rear window. Jim turned quickly, his face wearing +a grin from ear to ear. + +"Hey, Bud!" he called eagerly. "Bud!" + +"What?" asked Bud, turning at the hail. + +"Come over here for a minute, I want to show you something," Jim replied, +"but don't let Humble come." + +Bud obeyed and looked: "Jimminee!" he exulted. "Don't that look sumptious, +though? This is where we shine, all right." Then turned: "Hey, fellows, +come over here and take a look." + +As they crowded around the window Humble discovered that something was +in the wind and he followed them. What they saw was a long table beneath +two trees, and it was covered with a white cloth and dressed for a feast. +Bud turned quickly from the crowd and forcibly led Humble to a side +window before that unfortunate had seen anything and told him to put +his finger against the glass, which Humble finally did after an argument. + +"Feel the pain?" Bud asked. + +"Why, no," Humble replied, looking critically at his finger. "What's the +matter with you, anyhow?" + +"Nothing," replied Bud. "Think it over, Humble," he advised, turning away. + +Humble again put his finger to the glass and then snorted: + +"Locoed chump! Prosperity is making him nutty!" When he turned he saw his +friends laughing silently at him and making grimaces, and a light suddenly +broke in upon him. + +"Yes, I did!" he cried. "That joke is so old I plumb forgot it years ago! +Spring something that hasn't got whiskers and a halting step, will you?" + +Jim laughed and suggested a dance, but was promptly squelched. + +"You heathen!" snorted Blake in mock horror. "This is Sunday! If you want +to dance wait till you get back to the ranch--suppose one of the women was +here and heard you say that!" + +"Gee, I forgot all about it being Sunday," replied Jim, quickly looking +to see if any of the women were in the room. "We're regular barbarians, +ain't we!" he exclaimed in self-condemnation and relief when he saw that +no women were present. "We're regular land pirates, ain't we?" + +"You'll be asking to play poker yet, or have a race," jabbed Humble with +malice. "You ain't got no sense and never did have any." + +"Huh!" retorted Jim belligerently, "I won't try to learn a Chinee cook +how to play poker and get skinned out of my pay, anyhow! Got enough?" +he asked, "or shall I tell of the time you drifted into Sagetown and +asked----" + +"Shut up, you fool!" whispered Humble ferociously. "Yu'll get skun if you +say too much!" + +"'Skun' is real good," retorted Jim. "Got any more of them new words to +spring on us?" + +Helen had been passing to and fro past the window and Docile Thomas here +put his marveling into words, for he had been casting covert glances at +her, but now his restraint broke. + +"Gee whiz!" he exclaimed in a whisper to Jack Lawson. "Ain't she a regular +hummer, now! Lines like a thoroughbred, face like a dream and a smile +what shore is a winner! See her hair--fine and dandy, eh? She's in the +two-forty class, all right!" he enthused. "Why, when this country wakes +up to what's in it the sheriff will have to put up a stockade around this +house and mount guard. Everybody from Bill up will be stampeding this way +to talk business with the sheriff. No wonder The Orphan has got a bee +in his bonnet--lucky dog!" + +"She can take care of my pay every month just as soon as she says the +word," Jack replied. "But suppose you look away once in a while? Suppose +you shift your sights! You, too, Humble," he said, suddenly turning on +the latter. + +"Me what?" asked Humble, without interest and without shifting his gaze. +"What are you talking about?" + +"Look at something else, see?" + +"Shore I see," replied Humble. "That's why I'm looking. Do you think I +look with my eyes shut! Gee, but ain't she a picture, though!" + +"She shore is, but give it a rest, take a vacation, you chump!" retorted +Jack. "You're staring at her like she had you hoodooed. Come out of your +trance--wake up and make a fool of yourself some other way. Don't aim all +the time at her. Mebby Lee Lung has killed your dog!" + +"If he has we'll need a new cook," replied Humble with decision. + +"Come on, boys! Don't start milling!" cried the sheriff, suddenly entering +the room. "Dinner's all ready and waiting for us. And I shore hope you +have all got your best appetites with you, because Margaret likes to +see her food taken care of lively. If you don't clean it all up she'll +think you don't like it," he said, winking at Blake, "and if she once +gets that notion in her head it will be no more invitations for the Star +C." + +There was much excitement in the crowd, and the replies came fast. + +"I ain't had anything good to eat for fifteen long, aching years!" cried +Bud. "When I get through you'll need a new table. + +"Same here, only for thirty years," replied Jim hastily. "I just couldn't +sleep last night for thinking about the glorious surprise my abused +stomach was due to have to-day. I'll bet my gun on my performance if +the track is heavy, all right. I'm not poor on speed, and I'm a stayer +from Stayersville." + +"Well, I won't be among the also rans, you can bet on that," laughed +Silent. "I don't weigh very much, but I'm geared high." + +"I'll bet it's good!" cried Humble, "I'll bet it's real good!" + +"D----n good, you mean!" corrected Jack. "Hey, fellows!" he cried, "did +you hear what Humble said? He said that he'd bet it was _real_ good!" + +"Horray for Humble, the wit of the Star C," laughed Docile. + +"Me for the apricot pie!" exulted Charley. "Here's where I get square on +Blake for rubbing it in all these months about the fine pie he gets over +here." + +"There ain't no apricot pie," gravely lied the sheriff in surprise. + +"What!" cried Charley in alarm. "There ain't none for me! Oh, well, you +can't lose me in daylight, for I'll double up on everything else. I ain't +going to get left, all right!" + +"Don't wake me up," begged Joe Haines. "Let me dream on in peace and +plenty. Grub, real, genuine grub, grub what is grub! Oh, joy!" + +Mrs. Shields hurried into the room and then paused in surprise when she +saw that the outfit had not moved toward the feast. + +"Land sakes!" she cried. "Aren't you boys hungry, or is James up to some +of his everlasting teasing again!" + +"You talk to her, Bud," whispered Jim eagerly. "I'm so scary I shore +can't." + +"Yes, go ahead, Bud!" came instant and unanimous endorsement in whispers. + +"Well, ma'am," began Bud, clearing his throat, glancing around uneasily +to be sure that the crowd was giving him moral backing, and feeling +uncomfortable, "we was just getting up a--a----" + +"B, C, D," prompted Jim in a whisper. + +"We was just getting up a resolution of thanks, Mrs. Shields," he +continued, stabbing his elbow into the stomach of the offending Jim. +"You shut up!" he fiercely whispered. "I'm carrying one hundred and +forty pounds now without the saddle!" Then he continued: "We all of us +are plumb tickled about this, so plumb tickled we don't hardly know what +to say----" + +"That's right," whispered Jim, folding his arms across his stomach. +"You're proving it, all right." + +Silent and Jack hauled Jim to the rear and Bud continued unruffled: "But +we want to thank you, ma'am, from the bottoms, the very lowest bottoms of +our hearts for your kindness to a orphant outfit what ain't had anything +to eat since the war, and very little during it. Joe Haines, here, ma'am, +was just saying as how he was a-scared that it is all a dream----" + +"I didn't neither!" fiercely contradicted Joe in a whisper, looking very +self-conscious. He was whisked to the rear to join Jim and the speech went +on. + +"He is afraid it is a dream, ma'am, and I know we all of us have more or +less doubts about it being really true. But, ma'am, we shore are anxious +to find out all about it. We've rid thirty miles to see for ourselves, +and I don't reckon you'll have any fears about our appetites being left +at home when you sizes up the wreck left in the path of the storm after +the stampede is over. The boys want to give you three cheers even if it +is Sunday, ma'am, for your kindness to them, and I'm shore one of the +boys!" + +"Hip, hip, horray!" yelled the crowd, surging forward. + +"Good boy, Bud!" they cried. + +"I'm proud of you, Buddie!" exulted Charley, slapping him extra heartily +on the back. + +"I didn't know you had it in you, Bud!" cried Silent. "It was shore a +dandy speech, all right." + +"We'll send you to Congress for that, some day, Bud," cried Jack Lawson. +"You're all right!" + + "I once had a piece of pie, a piece of pie, a piece of pie, + I once had a piece of pie, when I was five years old," + +sang Charley as he pranced toward the door. + +"Good! Go on, Charley, go on!" cried his companions joyously. + + "Now I'll have another piece, another piece, another piece, + Now I'll have another piece, that's two all told. + + Good bye, Lee Lung, good bye Lee Lung, + Good bye, Lee Lung, we're going to forget you now!" + +"Again on that Lee Lung, altogether--it hits me right!" cried Bud, and the +matter pertaining to the farewells to Lee Lung was promptly and properly +attended to in heartfelt sincerity. + +The ladies laughed with delight, and Mrs. Shields whispered to her +husband, who nodded and escorted The Orphan to a seat near the head of the +table, where he was flanked by Helen and Blake. + +"Grab your partners, boys," the sheriff cried, pointing to the chairs. +There was a hasty piling of belts and guns on the ground, and after much +confusion all were seated. + +The sheriff arose: "Boys, Mrs. Shields wants me to tell you how pleased +she is to have you all here. She has felt plumb sorry about you and she +shore has shuddered at the thought of a Chinee cook----" + +"Which same we all do--it's chronic," interposed Jim to laughter. + +"She wants you to make yourselves at home," continued the sheriff, "learn +the lay of the land around this range and never forget the trail leading +here, because she insists that when any of you come to town you have +simply got to pay us a visit and see if there is a piece of pie or cake +to eat before you go back to that cook. And Tom says that he'll fire +the first man who renigs----" + +"I'm going to carry the mail hereafter!" cried Bud, scowling fiercely at +Joe. + +"Not if I can shoot first, you don't!" retorted the mail carrier. "I was +just a-wondering if it wouldn't be better to come in twice a week for it +instead of once. We might get more letters." + +"We'll bid for your job next year," laughed Silent. + +"Before I coax you to eat," continued the sheriff, "I----" + +"Wrong word, Sheriff," interposed Humble. "Not coax, but force." + +"I am going to ask you to reverse things a little, and drink a standing +toast to the man who saved the stage, to the man who saved Miss Ritchie +and my sisters and who made this dinner possible. This would be far from a +happy day but for him. I want you to drink to the long life and happiness +of The Orphan. All up!" + +The clink of glasses was lost in the spontaneous cheer which burst from +the lips of the former outlaw's new friends, and he sat confused and +embarrassed with a sudden timidity, his face crimson. + +"Speech!" cried Jim, the others joining in the cry. "Speech! Speech!" + +Finally, after some urging, The Orphan slowly arose to his feet, a foolish +smile playing about his lips. + +"It wasn't anything," he said deprecatingly. "You all would have done it, +every one of you. But I'm glad it was me. I'm glad I was on hand, although +it wasn't anything to make all this fuss about," and he dropped suddenly +into his seat, feeling hot and uncomfortable. + +"Well, we have different ideas about its being nothing," replied the +sheriff. "Now, boys, a toast to Bill Halloway," he requested. "Bill +couldn't get here to-day, but we mustn't forget him. His splendid grit +and driving made it possible for our friend to play his hand so well." + +"Hurrah for Bill!" cried Silent, leaping to his feet with the others. When +seated again he looked quickly at his glass and turned to Bud. + +"Real sweet cider!" he exulted. "Good Lord, but how time gallops past! +I'd almost forgotten what it was like! It's been over twenty years since I +tasted any! Ain't it fine?" + +"I was wondering what it was," remarked Humble, a trace of awe in his +voice as he refilled his glass. "It's shore enough sweet cider, and blamed +good, too!" + +Charley was romping with the mail carrier and he had a sudden inspiration: +"Speech from Joe! Speech for the pieces of pie and cake he's due to get!" + +"Now, look here, boy," Joe gravely replied. "I'm the mail carrier. I +don't have to go on jury duty, lead religion round-ups, go to war or make +speeches. As the books say, I'm exempt. All I have to do is punch cows, +rustle the mail and eat pie and cake once a week," he said, glancing +at Bud, who glared and groaned. + +"Good boy, Joe!" cried Humble, waving his glass excitedly. "You're shore +all right, you are, and I'm your deputy, ain't I?" + +"No, not my deputy, but my delirium," corrected Joe. + +"Glory be!" cried Silent as his plate was passed to him. "Chicken, real +chicken! Mashed potatoes, mashed turnips and dressing and gravy! And +here comes stewed corn, boiled onions and jelly and mother's bread. And +stewed tomatoes? Well, well! I guess we ain't going to be well fed, and +real happy, eh, fellows? My stomach won't know what's the matter--it'll +think it died and went to heaven by mistake. Holy smoke! It hurts my +eyes. What, cranberry jam? Well, I'm just going to close my eyes for a +minute if you don't mind; I want to recuperate from the shock. This is +where I live again!" + +Humble stared in rapture at the feast before him and finally heaved a long +drawn sigh of doubt and content. + +"Gee!" he cried softly, a far-away look in his eyes. "Look at it, just +look at it! Just like I used to get when I was a little tad back in +Connecticut--but that was shore a long time ago. Well," he exclaimed, +bracing up and bravely forgetting his boyhood, "there's one thing I hope, +and that is that Lee beats my dog. Then I can shoot him and get square +for all these years of imitation grub what he's handed out to me!" + +"Hey, Tom!" eagerly cried Charley, "why can't we handle a herd of chickens +out on the ranch, and have a garden? Why, we could have eggs every day +and chickens on holidays!" + +"No wonder Tom likes to ride to town," laughed Silent. "Gee whiz, I'd walk +it for pie and cake and real genuine coffee!" + +"Walk it!" snorted Jim. "Huh, I'd crawl, and stand on my head, knock my +feet together and crow every half mile! Walk it, huh!" + +Merriment reigned supreme throughout the meal and when the bashfulness had +worn off the conversation became fast and furious, abounding in terse wit, +verbal attacks and clever counters, and in concentrated onslaughts +against the unfortunate Humble, who soon found, however, a new and +loyal champion in Miss Ritchie, who took his part. Her assistance was so +doughty as to more than once put to rout his tormentors, and before the +dessert had been reached he was her devoted slave and admirer and was +henceforth to sing her praises at every opportunity, and even to make +opportunities. + +At The Orphan's end of the table all was serene. He, Helen, Blake and +the sheriff found much to talk about, and all the while Mrs. Shields +regarded the four in a motherly way, and tempered the keenness of her +husband's wit, for he was prone to break lances with The Orphan and to +tease his sister, much to her confusion. She was very happy, for here +at her side were her husband and the man she had feared would harm him, +laughing and joking and the best of friends; and down the table a crowd +of big-hearted boys, her boys now, were having the time of their lives. +They were good boys, too, she told herself; a trifle rough, but sterling +at the heart, and every one of them a loyal friend. How good it was to +see them eat and hear them laugh, all happy and mischievous. The welding +of the units had been finished, and now the Star C and The Orphan were +one in spirit. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +PREPARATION + + +After the dinner at the sheriff's house, life meant much to The Orphan, +for the dinner had done its work and done it well. Whatever had been +missing to complete the good fellowship between him and the others had +been supplied and by the time the outfit was ready to leave for home, +all corners had been rounded and all rough edges smoothed down. With +his outfit he was in hearty, loyal accord, and the spirit of the ranch +had become his own. With the sheriff his already strong liking had been +stripped of any undesirable qualities, and he felt that Shields was not +only the whitest man he had ever met, but also his best friend. He had +become more intimate with the sheriff's household, and for Mrs. Shields he +had only love and respect. + +With Helen his cup was full to overflowing, for he had managed to hold +several long talks with her during the afternoon, and to his mind he had +heard nothing detrimental to his hopes. His eyes had been opened as to +what it was he had been hungering for, and the knowledge thrilled him to +his finger-tips. He was a red-blooded, clean-limbed man, direct of words +and purpose, reveling in a joyous, surging, vigorous health, in tune with +his surroundings; he was dominant, fearless, and he had a saving grace +in his humor. To him came visions of the future, golden as the sunrise, +rich in promise and assurance as to a happiness such as he could only +feebly feel. Himself he was sure of, for he feared no failure on his part; +as far as he was concerned it was won. Helen, he believed from what the +day had given him, would not refuse him when the time came for her to +decide, and his effervescent spirits sent a song to his lips, which he +hurled to the sky as a war-cry, a slogan of triumph and a defiance. + +As yet he knew nothing of the sheriff's plans, and his thoughts concerning +his future position in the community did not dare to soar above that of +foreman of some ranch. To this end he would bend his energies with all the +power of his splendid trinity--heart, mind and body. He was far too +happy to think of failure, because there would be none; had the word +passed through his mind he would have laughed it into oblivion. His +experience gave him confidence, for he was no weakling sheltered and +protected by any guiding angel; to the contrary, he was the survivor +of a bitter war against conditions which would have destroyed a less +strong man; he was victor over himself and his enemies, a conqueror +of adverse conditions, a hewer of his own path; his enemies had been +his best friends, and his long fight, his salvation. For ten years he +had constantly fought a bitter fight against nature and man; hunger and +thirst, plots and ambushes had all played their parts, and he had won +out over all of them. He was young, hopeful and unafraid, and now that he +was on the right trail he would bend every energy to stay there, and +he would stay there, be the opposition what it might; and if the +opposition should be man, and of a strength dangerous to him, he would +destroy it as he had destroyed others before it. While now scorning to +use his gun on every provocation he would depend upon it as on a court +of last resort--and its decision would be final. + +He held ill wishes against no man save one, and that one was the man who +had placed the rope about the neck of his father. He did not know that +man's name, and he did not know that he might not be among those who had +already paid for that crime. But should he ever learn that he lived he +would take payment in full be the cost what it might. + +But he had no thoughts for strife, he only knew that the sun had never +been so bright, the sky so blue and the plain so full of life and beauty +as it was on this perfect day. Only one other day rivaled it--the day he +had swayed weakly by the side of a dusty coach and had felt warm, soft +fingers touching his forehead. But, he told himself with joy, there would +be days to come which would eclipse even that. + +He was aroused from his reverie by the approach of the foreman, who gave +him a hearty hail and smiled at the happy expression on the puncher's face. + +"Well, you look like you had struck it rich!" cried Blake. "What is it, +gold or silver?" + +"Gold or silver!" cried The Orphan in contempt at such cheapness. "By God, +Blake, I wouldn't sell my claim for all the gold and silver in this fool +earth! Gold or silver! Why, man, I know where there is plenty of both. +Here," he cried, plunging his hand into his chaps pocket, "look at this!" + +The foreman looked and whistled and took the object into his hand, where +he examined it critically. "By George, it's the yellow metal, all right, +and blamed near pure!" He returned it to its owner and added: "That's the +real stuff, Orphan." + +"Yes, it is," replied the other as he pocketed the nugget. "And I know +where it came from. There's plenty left that's just like it, but I +wouldn't go after it if it was diamonds." + +"You wouldn't!" exclaimed Blake in surprise. "By George, I'd go to-morrow, +to-night, if I knew. Gold like that ain't to be sneered at. It spells +ranches, ease, plenty, anything you want. And you wouldn't go for it?" + +"No, I wouldn't, and I won't," replied the puncher. "I'm going to stay +right here on this range and make good with my hands and brains. I'm +going to win the game with the cards I hold, and when I say win I mean it. +There are times when gold is a dangerous thing to have, and this is one +of them, as you'll understand when I disclose my hand. When I win I won't +need gold bad enough to go through hell and hot water for it and risk not +getting back to my claim, and it's one hundred to one that I wouldn't +get back, too. And if I lose, mind you, _if_, I won't have any use for +it. I picked that nugget up in the middle of the damnedest desert God +ever made, and when I got off it I was loco for a week. I won't tell +any friend of mine where it is because I want my friends to go on drawing +their breath. I need my friends a whole lot, and that's why I don't tell +you where it is. I was saving that for my enemies. Two have gone after +it already, and haven't been heard of since." + +"Well, you are the first man who ever told me that gold isn't worth going +after, and you have convinced me that in your case you are right," laughed +the foreman. + +"You wouldn't have to be told if you knew that desert as I do," replied +The Orphan. + +"How was the sheriff last night?" asked Blake. "Or didn't you notice, +being too much occupied in your claim?" + +The Orphan looked at him and then laughed softly: "He was the same as +ever--the best man I ever knew. But how in thunder do you know about my +claim? How did you know what I meant? I thought that I had covered that +trail pretty well." + +Blake put his hand on his friend's shoulders and gravely looked at him: +"Son, having eyes, I see; having ears, I hear; having brains, I think. +If you have been fooling yourself that you are on a quiet trail, just +listen to this: There ain't a man who knows you well that don't know what +you're playing for, even Bill had it all mapped out the second time he +saw you. And most of us wish you luck. You're not a man who needs help, +but if you _do_ need it, you know where to come for it." + +"Thank you, Blake," replied The Orphan, eagerly filling his lungs with the +crisp air. "That's why I ain't hankering for that gold--I'm too blamed +busy making my own." + +"Well, what I wanted to speak to you about is this," said the foreman, +thinking quickly as to how to say it. "Old man Crawford got me to promise +that I'd pick up a herd of cows for him before fall. Now, I would just +as soon do it myself as not, but if you want to try your hand at it, go +ahead. He wants about five thousand, to be delivered in five herds, a +thousand each, at his corrals. He won't pay any more than the regular +price for them, and the more you can drop the price the better he will +like it, of course. They must be good, healthy cattle and be delivered +to him before payment is made. What do you say?" + +"I say that it's a go!" cried The Orphan. "I've had some great luck +lately!" he exulted. "I'm ready to go after them whenever you say the +word, to-night if you say so. And I'll get the right number and kind +or know the reason why. And I'll take a hand in driving the last herd to +him myself. Good Lord, what luck!" + +Blake talked a while longer about the trip, giving necessary instructions +about prices and where he would be likely to find the herd, and then +rode off in the direction of Ford's Station for a consultation with his +friend, the sheriff. + +"Hullo, Tom!" came from the stage office as he rode past. He quickly +turned his head and then stopped, smiling broadly. + +"Why, hullo, Bill," he replied. "Glad to see you. How are things? Had any +trouble lately?" + +"Nope, times are real dull since that day in the defile," Bill answered +with a grin. "I saw Tex once at Sagetown, but he ain't talking none +these days, he's too busy thinking. You see, I've got a purty strong +combination backing me and nobody feels like starting it a-going, because +there ain't no telling just where it'll stop. The Orphant and the sheriff +make a blamed good team, all right." + +"None better at any game, Bill," replied Blake. "And you used the right +word, too. They're going to pull together from now on, in fact, the Star +C will be in harness with them." + +"That's the way to talk!" cried Bill enthusiastically. "I always said +that Orphant was a white man, even before I ever saw him," he said, +forgetting much that he might be in hearty accord. "He can call on me +any time he needs me, you bet. He cheated the devil twice with me, and I +ain't a-going to forget it. But say, what do you think of the sheriff's +sister, Helen? Ain't she a winner, hey? Finest girl these parts have +ever seen, all right, and her friend ain't second by no length, neither." + +"Why, Bill," exclaimed Blake, a twinkle coming to his eyes, "you are not +allowing yourself to get captured, are you? That's a risky game, like +starting up The Orphan and the sheriff, for there's no telling just where +it will stop." + +"No, I ain't letting myself get captured," sighed Bill. "I ain't no fool. +Bill Howland knows a thing or two, which he learned not more than a +thousand years ago. I've got it all sized up. And since then I've seen +a certain bang-up puncher hitting the trail for the sheriff's house some +regular twice a week. Nope, I'm a batchler now and forever, long may +I wave." + +"Say," he continued, suddenly remembering something. "What's the sheriff +up to now? Is he going to have a picnic out on Crawford's ranch? He asked +me if he could have the lend of the stage on an off day some time soon. +Wants me to drive it for him out to the A-Y and back. I don't know what +his game is, and I don't care none. I'll do it, all right. But what's he +going to do out there, anyhow?" + +Blake laughed: "Oh, nothing bad, I reckon. You'll probably learn all about +it as soon as the rest of us. How do you expect me to know anything about +it? Mebby he is going to have a picnic out there for all we know. The +A-Y is a good place for one, ain't it?" + +"You just bet it is," cried Bill. "Your ranch is all right, Blake, but I +like the A-Y better. It's got windmills and everything. Finest grove near +the ranch-house that I ever saw, and I've seen some fine groves in my +time. Old man Crawford knew a good thing when he saw it, all right. +Here comes Charley Winter like he had all day to go nowhere--he's got a +good job with the Cross Bar-8, but I wouldn't have it for a gift--no, +sir, money wouldn't tempt me to be one of that outfit. But I reckon +it's some better out there than it once was since the sheriff and The +Orphant amputated its inflamed fingers. Hullo, Charley," he cried as the +newcomer drew rein. "I was just telling Blake what a good job you have +got with Sneed." + +"Hullo, you old one-hoss driver," grinned Charley. "Hullo, Tom," he cried. +"Looking for the sheriff?" + +"Hullo, Charley," said the foreman, shaking hands with Sneed's substitute +puncher. "Yes, I am. Do you know where he is?" + +"He's out at the Cross Bar-8, giving Sneed a talking to," Charley +answered. "Bucknell went and got loaded again last night, raised h--l +in town and out of it all the way home. He thought he wanted to shoot +up The Orphan, so he was some primed. Jim is telling Sneed to hold him +down to water and peace unless he wants to lose him. He'll be in soon, +though. How's The Orphan getting on out at your place?" + +"Fine!" answered Blake, his face wearing a frown. "But I'm some sorry +about that fool Bucknell, though. He may get on a spree some day and +_find_ The Orphan. I don't want any more gunplay, and if that idiot does +find him and gets ambitious to notch up his gun another hole, there'll +shore be some loose lead. If he ever gets on Star C ground, and I catch +him there, I'll shore enough wipe up the earth with him, and when you +see him, just tell him what I said, will you? It ain't no joke, for I +will." + +"Shore I'll tell him," replied Charley. "When will that bunch of cattle +be on hand--I'm anxious to swap jobs." + +Blake flashed him a warning glance and tried to ignore the question by +changing the subject, but it was too late, for Bill was curious. + +"What cattle is that, Charley?" asked the driver in sudden interest. + +"Oh, some cattle that I'm going to get of Blake for Sneed," lied Charley +easily. + +"What in all get out does Sneed want with any Star C cows?" Bill asked in +surprise. "He's got plenty of cows of his own, unless The Orphant shot a +whole lot more than I thought he did." + +"I don't know, Bill," replied Charley. "I didn't ask him, it being plainly +none of my business." + +Bill scratched his head: "No, I reckon not," he replied doubtfully. + +"Here comes Shields now," said Blake suddenly. "I reckon I'll ride off +and meet him. So long, Bill." + +"So long," replied Bill. "Be sure to tell The Orphan I was asking about +him. So long, Charley." He turned abruptly and entered the stage office: +"I don't understand it," he muttered. "There's something in the wind that +I can't get onto nohow. He has shore got me guessing some, all right." + +The clerk tossed aside the paper and stared: "Well, that's too d----d +bad, now ain't it?" he asked sarcastically. "You ought to object, that's +what you ought to do! What right has anybody to keep quiet about their +own business when you want to know, hey? If I wanted to know everybody's +business as bad as you do, I'd shore raise h--l, I would. Why don't you +choke it out of him, wipe up the earth with him? Go out right now and give +him a piece of your mind." + +"Oh, you would, would you! You're blamed smart, now ain't you? You work +too hard--your nerves are giving away," drawled Bill as he picked up the +paper. "Sitting around all day with your feet on the table and a pipe in +your mouth that you're too lazy to light, working like the very devil +trying to find time to do the company's business, which there ain't none +to do. Ain't you ashamed to go to bed?--it must take a lot of gall to +hunt your rest at night after finding it and hugging it all day. What +would you do for a living if I forgot to bring the paper with me some day, +hey? You ain't got enough animation to want to know what is going on in +this little world of ours, you----" + +"You get out of here, right now, too!" yelled the clerk. "I don't want you +hanging around bothering me, you pest! Get out of here right now, before I +get up and throw you out! Do you hear me!" + +Bill crossed his legs, pushed back his sombrero, turned the page carefully +and then remarked, "I licked four husky cow-punchers, real bad men, last +month. One right after the other, and I was purty near all in, too." He +glanced at the next page disinterestedly, spat at a fly on the edge of +the box cuspidor and then added wearily and with great deprecation, "I'm +feeling fine to-day, never felt so good in my life, but I need more +exercise--I'm two pounds over weight right now." + +The clerk showed interest and awe: "Weight?" he asked. "What is your +fighting weight?" + +Bill looked up aggressively: "Fighting weight?" he asked, raising his +eyebrows. "My _fighting_ weight is something over nine hundred pounds, +when I'm real mad. Ordinarily, one hundred and eighty. Why?" + +"Oh, nothing," replied the clerk, staring out of the window. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE ORPHAN GOES TO THE A-Y + + +The A-Y had been a very busy place for the past two weeks because of the +cattle which had to be re-branded and taken care of, and of other things +which had to be done about the ranch. The sheriff had taken title and +had persuaded Crawford to remain in nominal charge for a month at the +most so as to keep the sale a secret until the new owner would be ready to +make it known. So word went around that Crawford had hired the sheriff to +put things on a paying basis and that half of the old outfit had left, +their places being filled by Charley, the two Larkin brothers and two +men from a northern ranch. + +Shields had been very much pleased with the cattle which The Orphan +had bought for him and had asked Blake if he could borrow the new +puncher to help him get things in good running shape. Blake had told The +Orphan of the sheriff's request and had advised him to accept, which the +puncher was very glad to do. So this is how the former outlaw became +temporary foreman of the A-Y under the sheriff. Only the sheriff's most +intimate friends knew his plans, one of whom was Charley Winter, who +found food for mirth in the unique position things had taken. The +sheriff's deputies who had lain out-doors all night on the Cross Bar-8 +waiting to capture or kill the outlaw were now working under him, and +the best of feelings prevailed. The man who had hunted The Orphan now +employed him as the bearer of the responsibilities of the new ranch. +Truly, a change! + +While The Orphan was busy with his duties on the A-Y the sheriff rode to +the Star C and sought out the foreman, whom he finally found engaged in +freeing a cow that had become mired in a quicksand. As the terror-stricken +animal galloped wildly away from the scene of torture and indignities to +its person Blake mopped his face and began to scrape the quicksand from +him. + +"Playing life-saver, eh?" laughed the sheriff. + +The foreman looked up and smiled sheepishly: "Yes," he replied as he shook +hands with the sheriff. "One cow more or less won't make nor break no +ranch, but I just can't see 'em suffer. The boys and I were passing, so +we stopped and got to work. But cows ain't got no gratitude, not nohow! +That ornery beast will be all ready to charge me the first time he sees +me afoot. Did you see him try to horn me when I let go?" + +His friend laughed, and when they had ridden some distance from the others +he turned in his saddle: + +"Well, The Orphan is working like a horse, and he likes it, too," he +said. "You ought to hear him giving orders--he just asks a man to do a +thing, don't order it done. When he talks it sounds like the puncher +would be doing him the greatest possible favor to do the work he is paid +to do, but there is a suggestion that if any nastiness develops, hell +will be a peaceful place compared to the near vicinity of the foreman +of the A-Y. He sizes up a thing with one look, and then tells how it +should be done. Everything has gone off so fine that I'm going to ask +you to lose a good man, and real soon, too. What do you say, Tom?" + +Blake laughed: "Why, we were a-plenty before he came and we'll be a-plenty +after he goes. That's for your asking me to turn him over to you. The +boys will be both sorry and glad to have him leave, because they like +him a whole lot. But of course they want to see him land everything +that he can, so they'll give him a good send-off. That reminds me to +say that I know they will want to be on hand when you break the news to +him. It'll be a circus for your Eastern friend, Miss Ritchie." + +"Now you're talking!" enthused the sheriff. "I want to have as many +fireworks at the ceremony as I can possibly get. Oh, it'll be a great +day, all right. We are all going out and take a bang-up lunch, just +like we're going on that picnic that Bill's been so worried about, and +Bill is going to drive the women over in his coach. The first surprise +will be the announcement of the new ownership of the A-Y, and right on +top of it I'm going to fire the second gun. I hope none of your boys +know anything about it," he added with anxiety. + +"Not a thing," hastily replied the foreman. "You have your wife send a +message to me by Joe when he rustles our mail to-morrow and ask us to come +to the picnic at the A-Y on the day which you will decide on. They'll go, +all right, no fear about that. Nothing more than your wife's cooking is +needed to attract them," and he laughed heartily at how suddenly they +would come to life at such a summons. + +Shields thought intently for a few seconds and then slapped his thigh: +"I've got it!" he exulted. "I'll ride over to your place with you and +write a letter to my wife telling her just what to do. Joe can deliver +it and bring back the invitation. You see, I won't be home to-night, but +that will do the trick, all right. Now, what do you say to this coming +Saturday?--this is, let me see: Wednesday. Will that be time enough for +you to make any arrangements you may want to make?" + +"Shore, plenty of time," Blake laughed. "It's good all the way. Joe will +be delighted to have a real good excuse to call at your house. He's a +bashful cuss, like all the rest. They talk big, but they're some bashful +all the same. He's been worrying about it, for one day he came to me +with a funny expression on his face and acted like he didn't know how +to begin. So I asked him what was troubling him, and he blurted out like +this, as near as I can remember: + +"'Well, you know Mrs. Shields said we was to go to her house when any of +us hit town?' he asked. + +"'I shore do,' I answered, wondering what was up. + +"'Well, I go to town a lot, and it takes a h--l of a lot of gall to do +it,' he complained, looking so serious that it was funny. + +"'Gall!' said I, surprised-like, and trying to keep my face straight. +'Gall! Well, I can't see that it takes such a brave man to call at a +friend's house when he's been told to do it.' + +"'Oh, that part of it is all right," he replied. 'But she'll think I only +call to get my face fed, and it makes me feel like a--I don't know what. +You see, I always get away quick.' + +"'Well, stay longer, there ain't no use of being in a hurry,' I said. +'Stay and talk a while.' + +"'Then they'll think I ain't got enough and push more pie at me, like they +did once,' he complained. + +"'Suppose I give Silent your terrible ordeal to do,' I suggested +tentatively, 'or Bud, he's dead anxious for your job.' + +"'Oh, it ain't as bad as that!' he cried quickly. 'I only thought that +I'd speak to you about it. I thought you could suggest something.' + +"'Well,' I replied, 'every time you call you say I sent you over to ask +about the sheriff's health. How'll that do?' + +"He grinned sheepishly and then swore: 'H--l, that would make a shore +enough mess of it,' he cried. 'I'd be a royal American idiot to say a +thing like that, now, wouldn't I?'" + +The sheriff laughed heartily, and they talked about the picnic until they +had reached the ranch-house, where he wrote the note to his wife. Bidding +his friend good-by, he rode out past the corrals and headed for the A-Y. + +When about half-way to his own ranch, and on A-Y ground, he surmounted a +rise and saw a figure flit from sight behind a thicket, and his curiosity +was immediately aroused. Not knowing who the man might be, he stalked his +quarry and finally found Bucknell standing beside his horse. + +"Well, what's the trouble now?" the sheriff asked as he came out into +sight. He was dangerously near angry, for Bucknell was on forbidden ground +and was flushed as if from liquor. "What's the trouble?" he repeated. + +Bucknell looked confused: "Nothing, Sheriff. Why?" he asked, evading the +searching gaze of the peace officer. + +"Oh, I thought something might have gone wrong on the Cross Bar-8, and +that you were looking for me," Shields coldly replied. + +Bucknell looked at the ground and coughed nervously before he replied, +which only made the sheriff all the more determined to get at the matter +in a true light. + +"No, nothing's wrong," replied the puncher. "I was just riding out this +way--I was some nervous, that's all." + +"That don't go with me!" the sheriff said sharply. "I've lived too long +to bite on a yarn like that. Why, you can't look at me!" + +The puncher did not reply and the sheriff continued: + +"Now, look here, Bucknell, take some good advice from me--stay on your +ranch, mind your own business and let liquor alone. As sure as you +monkey around the Star C Blake will give you a d----n sound licking, and +he's man enough to do it, too, make no error. And as for the A-Y, well, +the temporary foreman of that ranch is the cleverest man with a gun that I +ever saw, and I've seen some good ones in my time. If you go up against +him you'll get shot, for he'd think you were about the easiest proposition +he ever met. As sure as you drink you'll get drunk, and as sure as you +get drunk you'll work up an appetite for a fight, and if you pick a +fight with him you'll never know what hit you. You stick to water and +the Cross Bar-8." + +"Oh, I reckon I can take care of my own business," sullenly replied +Bucknell. "I can come out here drunk or sober if I wants to, I reckon." + +"You can do nothing of the kind," rejoined the sheriff. "And you certainly +ought to be able to take care of your own business, as you say," he +retorted, holding his temper with an effort. "But in the past you didn't, +and you may not in the future. And when your business gets too big for you +to handle it gets into my hands, and if you make any trouble I'll d----n +soon convince you that I can handle your surplus. Now, get out of here and +think it over." + +Bucknell swung into his saddle and then turned, the liquor making him +reckless. + +"D----n it!" he cried. "The Orphant killed Jimmy and a whole lot more good +cow-punchers! He's nothing but a murdering thief, a d----d rustler, that's +what he is! And you are his best friend, it seems!" + +The wan smile flickered across the sheriff's face, but still he refrained, +for such is the foolish consideration given by brave men to liquor. A +drunkard may do much with impunity, for the argument states he is not +responsible, forgetting that in the beginning he was responsible enough +to have left liquor alone, and that injury, whether unintentional or +not, is still injury. + +"There is no seem about it!" he retorted. "I _am_ his best friend, and +he needs friends bad enough, God knows. But speaking of murder, those +four good cow-punchers that stopped me in the defile tried hard enough to +qualify at it, and The Orphan not only saved me, but also some of them, +for I'd a gotten some of them before I cashed. You're a h--l of a fine +cub to talk about murders, you are!" + +"That's all right," retorted Bucknell, "he's just what I said he was. And +a side pardner of our brave sheriff, too!" + +"D----n you!" shouted Shields, his face dark with passion. "You have +said enough, any more from you and I'll break your dirty neck! Just +because I felt sorry for you when you got half killed in the saloon +and let you stay in the country don't think you are the boss of this +section. When I saw what a pitiful, drunken wreck you were, I felt sorry +for you, but not any more. You don't want decent treatment, you want +to get clubbed, and you're right in line to get just what you need, too! +Now, I'm not going to stand any more of your d----d foolishness--my +patience is played out. And if you were half a man you wouldn't sit there +like a bump on a log and swallow what I'm saying--you'd put up a fight +if you died for it. You are no good, just a drunken, lawless fool of a +puncher; just a bag of wind, and it's up to you to walk a chalk line or +I'll give you a taste of what I carry around with me for bums of your +kind. What in h--l do you think I am? No, you don't, you stay right +where you are 'til I get good and ready to have you go! You've come +d----d near the end of your rope and there is just one thing for you +to do, and that is, get out of this country and do it quick! You stay on +your own side of the Limping Water, for if I catch you riding off any +nervousness off of Cross Bar-8 ground without word from your foreman, +I'll shoot you down like I'd shoot a coyote! And for a dollar I'd wipe up +the earth with you right now! You d----d, sneaking, cowardly cur, you +tin-horn bully! Pull your stakes and get scarce and don't you open your +mouth to me--come on, lively! Pull your freight!" + +Bucknell slowly rode away, his eyes to the ground and not daring to say +what seethed in his heart. He swore to himself that he would get square +some day on both, not realizing in his anger that when sober he feared +them both. + +The sheriff stared after him and then returned to the point where he +had left his horse. As he mounted he shook his head savagely and swore. +Glancing again after the puncher he struck into a canter and rode toward +the ranch. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +BILL ATTENDS THE PICNIC + + +The picnic aroused quite a stir for so frivolous a thing. When Blake +read Mrs. Shields' invitation to the outfit they acted like schoolboys +dismissed for a vacation. Grins of delight were the style on the Star +C, and the overflow of bubbling happiness took the form of practical +joking against Humble, whose life suddenly held much anxiety. In Ford's +Station there was an air of expectancy, and Bill spent all of Saturday +morning from daylight until time to start in cleaning his stage and +grooming the horses, whose astonishment quickly passed into prohibitive +indignation. After narrowly escaping broken bones and chewed arms Bill +decided that the sextet could go as it was. + +"Serves 'em right!" he yelled to his friendly enemy, the clerk, after he +had barely dodged a vicious kick, wildly waving a curry comb. "Let the +ignoramuses go like they are! Let 'em show how cheap and common they are! +They never was any good for anything, anyhow, eating their heads off and +kicking their best friend!" + +"How about the time they beat out them Apaches?" asked the clerk, settling +back comfortably against the coach. + +"You get out!" yelled Bill pugnaciously. "Who asked you for talk, hey? And +get away from that coach, you idiot, you'll dirty it all up!" + +"Sic 'em, Tige!" jeered the clerk pleasantly. "Chew 'em up!" + +"What!" yelled Bill, swiftly grabbing up the pail of water which stood +near him. "Sic 'em, is it!" he cried, running forward. "Chew 'em up, +hey!" he continued, heaving the contents of the pail at the clerk, who +nimbly sprang inside the vehicle and slammed the door shut behind him as +the water struck it. He leaped out of the other door and was safely away +before Bill realized what had happened. Then the driver said things when +he saw the mess he had made of the coach, upon which he had spent two +hard hours in polishing. + +"Suffering dogs!" he shouted, dancing first on one foot and then on the +other. "Now look what you've done! You're a h--l of a feller, you are! +After me rubbing the skin off'n my hands and breaking my arms a-polishing +it up! You good for nothing, mangy half-breed! Wait till I get a hold of +you, you long pair of legs, you! Just wait! I'll show you, all right!" + +The clerk twiddled his fingers from afar and jeered in his laughter: +"Serves you right! Sic 'em, Towser! Eat 'em up, Fido! Sic 'em, sic 'em!" +he shouted joyously, and forthwith ran for his life. + +Bill returned to the coach and worked like mad to undo the evil effects +he had wrought and finally succeeded in bringing a phantom glow to the +time-battered wood. Then he hitched up and drove to the sheriff's house, +where he saw huge baskets on the porch. + +"Good morning, Mrs. Shields," he said as he stamped to the door. "Good +morning, ladies." + +"Good morning William," replied the sheriff's wife as she hurried to +collect shawls and blankets. "Will you mind putting those baskets on +the coach, William? We will soon be ready." + +"Why, certainly not, ma'am," he answered, recklessly grabbing up the two +largest. "Jimminee!" he exulted. "These are shore heavy, all right, all +right! Must be plumb full of good things! To-day is where your Uncle +Bill Halloway gets square for the dinner the company froze him out of. +Wonder if there's apricot pie in this one?" he mused curiously. He +gingerly raised the cover and a grin distorted his face. "Must be six, +yes, eight--mebby ten!" he soliloquized as he placed it on the stage. +"Hullo, bottles of some kind," he whispered as he picked up another +basket. "Hear the little devils clink, eh? Must be coffee and tea, hey? +Yes, shore enough it is. Good Lord, how hungry I am--wish I had eaten that +breakfast this morning--how in thunder did I know we was going to be so +late? I'll be the strong man at this picnic, all right!" + +"Here are some blankets, William," called Mrs. Shields. "Helen, would you +mind showing him how to carry that box?--he's sure to turn it upside down +if you don't." + +"Next!" he cried, returning from the trip with the blankets. "I put them +blankets up on top, Mrs. Shields, is it all right? How do you do, Miss +Helen, any more freight?" + +"How do you do," she replied. "This box is to go, please. Now, do be very +careful not to turn it up, or jar it!" she warned. "And put it on the seat +inside the coach where we can steady it." + +"Gee, what's in it?" asked Bill, nearly dying from his curiosity. "Must +be the joker of the feast, eh?" + +"Three layer cakes," she laughingly replied. "Chocolate, cocoanut and +lemon." + +"Um!" he said. "I'll carry this one high up, it deserves it." + +"Oh, do be careful!" she cried as he swooped it up to his shoulder. "Oh!" +she screamed as it thumped against the top of the door frame. + +"Whoa! Back up!" cried Bill, executing the order. "Easy, boy--all right, +off we go!" + +"Grace, Mary," cried Helen, "we are all ready to go!" + +"Ain't there any more boxes?" asked Bill from the coach. + +"Come, girls," cried Mrs. Shields as she stepped into the coach. "Close +the door after you, and lock it, dear." + +Bill gallantly helped the ladies into the coach, grinned at the cake box +and started toward the front wheel when he was called back. + +"Now, William," cautioned Mrs. Shields, laughing. "We will not be pursued +by Apaches to-day, and this cake must not be shaken!" + +"You won't know you're riding, ma'am, you shore won't," he assured her as +he danced toward the front wheel again. + +"Wake up there, you!" he yelled from the box. "Come on, Jerry, think +you're glued to the earth? Come on, Tom! Easy there, you fool jackrabbit! +--haven't you learned that you can't reach this high!" + +When they had arrived at the A-Y the baskets were carried into the +ranch-house and the women became very busy getting things ready for the +feast. Bill took care of his team and then carried the blankets to the +grove. + +While the picnic was being prepared there arose a series of blood-curdling +whoops off to the south where the outfit of the Star C made the air +blue with powder smoke. As they came nearer something peculiar was +noticed by Helen. It appeared to be a sort of drag drawn by a horse and +supported by two long, springy poles, one end of which rested on the +ground, and the other fastened to the saddle. While she wondered Bill +came up and she turned to him for light. + +"What have they got fastened to that horse?" she asked him. + +He looked and then smiled: "Why, it is a travois," he said. "But what +under the sun have they got on it? They must be bringing their own grub!" + +The travois dragged and bumped over the uneven plain and soon came near +enough for its burden to be made out. A man and a dog were strapped to it. + +At this point Blake joined Helen and Bill, and as he did so he espied the +travois. + +"Thunder!" he cried, running forward. "Somebody is hurt! What's the +matter, Silent?" he shouted. + +"Matter?" asked Silent, in surprise as the outfit drew near. "There ain't +nothing the matter. Why?" + +"What's that travois doing with you, then?" Blake demanded. + +Silent's face was as grave as that of an owl. "Travois?" he asked. +Then his face cleared: "Oh, yes--I near forgot about it," he added, +apologetically. "You see, Humble he shore wanted his dog to come to the +picnic, so we reckoned we'd let it come along. Bud and Jim was for +slinging it at the end of a rope and dragging it over, but I said no. +We ain't got any ropes to have all frayed out and cut a-dragging dogs +to picnics, and I said so, too. So we built the travois and strapped +Lightning to it. When Humble saw what we had done he acted real unpolite. +He said as how he wasn't going to have no dog of his'n toted twenty +miles in a fool travois. Said that he'd make it stay home first, which +was some mean after inviting the dog to come along. He said that he'd +go in a travois himself first before he'd let the setter be made a fool +of. Well, we simply had to subdue him, and he got so unreasonable that we +just had to tie him with his dog. He shore does get awful pig-headed at +times." + +"Take off the gag, Jim," requested Silent, turning to the grinning +cow-puncher. "Let him loose now, we've arrived." + +Jim leaned over and whispered in Humble's ear, the information being that +there were ladies about, and that all swearing must be thought and not +yelled. Then he slipped the gag, and untied the ropes. Gales of laughter +met the angry and indignant puncher when he had leaped to his feet, and +he flashed one quick glance at the women and then, boiling with wrath +and suppressed profanity, fled toward the corrals as swiftly as cramped +muscles would allow. The dog snarled at its tormentors and then set +off in hot pursuit of its discomfited master, whose waving arms kept +time with his speeding legs. + +"That's all the thanks we get," grumbled Bud, "but then, he don't know +any better anyhow." + +Blake laughed and regarded his grinning and expectant outfit, and the +longer he looked at them the more he laughed. They had paid their respects +to the women while Silent explained about the travois and now they cast +many longing glances at the blankets and cloths spread out on the grass +and at the baskets which Bill was busy over. They had tried to coax the +driver to them to give information as to what they might expect in the +way of edibles, but he had haughtily and disdainfully refused to enlighten +them, taking care, however, to arouse their curiosity by looking fondly +at the box and the baskets and even showed his elation by taking several +fancy steps for their benefit. + +"Well, get rid of the cayuses," said Blake, "and square things with +Humble. Bring him back with you or you don't get any pie. You're such a +darn fool crowd that I can't get mad this time, but don't ever drag a +man in a travois again." + +"Did he come, or was he kidnapped?" murmured Bud. "What we did once we can +do again, and Humble will be on hand when the feast begins." + +Jim had been scowling at Bill, whose manners were most aggravating. "You +just wait, you heathen," threatened Jim. "You're ace high with the grub, +all right, but just you wait 'til we get you alone!" + +"Yah!" laughed the driver. "I shore can handle the best cow-wrastler that +ever lived." + +"Bill seems to be running this here festival," Bud complained to Helen. + +"Oh, he is our right-hand man," she replied with enthusiasm. "We couldn't +possibly get along without him, now. He has charge of the pie and cake." + +Bill's chest expanded: "I'm foreman of the pie and cake herd," he +exclaimed proudly. "You can't get ahead of me." + +Bud looked at the driver and then significantly waved his hand at the +travois: "And you'll shore travel in style, just like a real pie foreman, +too, when we gets a chance to honor you like we wants to." + +"You'll get no pie if you acts smart, little boy," retorted the driver. +"Run along and play till lunch is ready, and don't dirty your hands and +face." + +"Well, we've got fine memories," Bud suggested as he led the way to the +corrals, where he found The Orphan. + +"Hullo, Orphan!" he cried enthusiastically as he gripped the outstretched +hand. "Plumb glad to see you. How's things?" + +"Glad to see you, boys," cried the temporary foreman, who was all smiles. +"One at a time!" he laughed as they crowded about him. "Make yourselves +right at home--that smallest corral is for your cayuses. And you'll find +plenty of soap and water and towels by the bunk-house, and there's a box +of good cigars, a tin of tobacco, and a jug on the table inside. Help +yourself to anything you want, the place is all yours." + +"Gee, this is a good game, all right," Bud laughed as he turned to put +his horse in the corral. "The sheriff shore knows how to deal." + +"Leave a cigar for me, Silent," jokingly warned Jim as his friend turned +toward the bunk-house. "Too many smokes will make you sick." + +"Well, you've got a gall, all right!" retorted Silent. "You better let me +bring yours out to you and keep away from the box, for I'm always plumb +suspicious of these goody-goody, it's-for-your-own-good people." + +A crafty look came to Jack Lawson's face and he turned to The Orphan: "Has +Bill Howland got his cigars yet?" he asked, winking at his friends. + +"Why, I don't know whether he has or not," replied The Orphan. "But I +don't believe that he has been out of sight of the pies since he came. +They've got him in a trance." + +"Guess I'll take him one," continued Jack, grinning broadly. "He likes to +smoke." + +"Shore enough, go ahead," endorsed the foreman of the A-Y as he turned +toward the grove. Then he stopped, and with a knowing look added: "If you +want to see Humble, he just went in the bunk-house." + +A yell of dismay arose as the outfit started pell-mell for the house. +Silent entered it first and his profanity informed his companions that +their fears were well grounded. Neither Humble, cigars, tobacco nor jug +were to be seen, and a search was forthwith instituted. Jack looked at +a distant corral and saw Lightning as the dog disappeared from sight into +it. + +"Hey!" he cried. "He's in the big corral--I just saw his dog go in, and +it was wagging its tail a whole lot. Come on, we'll surround it and show +that frisky gent a thing or two!" + +No more words were wasted, and in a very short time figures were creeping +around the corral. Then there was a scramble as most of the searchers +scaled the wall at different points while two of them ran in through +the gate. The first thing they saw was the dog, and his tail was still +wagging as he curiously followed, nose to the ground, a huge horned toad. +He looked up at the sudden disturbance and backed off suspiciously, +looking for a way to escape. + +"---- ----!" chorused the fooled punchers, who discovered that deductions +don't always deduct, and then they returned to the bunk-house to "slick +up." When finally satisfied about their appearance they made their way +to the grove and the sight which greeted their eyes as they entered it +almost made them drop in their tracks. + +Humble and Bill sat cross-legged on a blanket, which was surrounded with +guns. The jug, tobacco and cigars were flanked by pies and a cake, while +each of the conspirators held a lighted cigar in one hand while they took +turns at the jug. A huge piece of pie rested in a plate at Humble's side, +while Bill's knee held a piece of cake. + +"Hands up!" shouted Humble, grabbing a gun. "Don't you dare to raid the +gallery! You stay right where you are!" + +Bill's blacksnake whip leaped from point to point experimentally, picking +up twigs and leaves with disturbing accuracy. + +The invaders halted just beyond the range of the whip and consulted +uneasily, not noticing that the driver had shortened his weapon by twice +the length of its handle. Finally Jim and Docile ran back toward the +corral while their friends waited impatiently for their return, grinning +at the enemy with an I-told-you-so air. + +Bill suddenly leaned forward, the whip slid down into his hand to the end +of the handle and cracked viciously. Joe Haines, who had grown a little +careless, leaped into the air and yelled, grabbing at his leg. + +"Keep your distance, you!" warned the driver, trying to look ferocious. +"Twenty feet is the dead-line, children." + +Jim and Docile returned apace and brought with them half a dozen lariats, +which ranged in length from thirty to forty feet. + +"Hey, you!" cried Humble in alarm. "That ain't fair!" + +Grim silence was the only reply as the invaders each took his rope and +surrounded the two. Then, suddenly, the air was full of darting ropes +and in less time than it takes to tell of it the pair were hopelessly +and helplessly trussed. Silent ran in and hurled the whip away and then +squatted before the prisoners, throwing their cigars after the whip as +he took up the pie and cake, which he tantalizingly munched before their +eyes. + +"I like a hog, all right, but you suit me too blamed well!" asserted Bud, +grabbing at Silent's pie. + +"Gimme some of that," demanded Jim, trying for the cake. And when the +disturbance had ceased there were no signs of either pie or cake. + +"It's the travois for you, Humble dear!" softly hummed Charley Bailey. +"And to the ranch, by the way of town!" + +"And Bill will be pleased to explore the Limping Water on the bottom," +amended Jim. "One of us can drive the women home!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE ANNOUNCEMENT + + +About thirty people sat in a circle on the grass in the grove on the A-Y, +engaged in taking viands from the well-filled plates which made the +rounds. Keen humor from all sides kept them in roars of laughter, Humble +and Bill provoking the greater part of it. Humble sat next to Miss +Ritchie, while The Orphan and Bill flanked Helen, the sheriff next to his +new foreman. Humble's face had a look of benign condescension when he +allowed himself to bestow perfunctory attentions on the members of +his outfit, whom he graciously called "purty fair punchers in a way." + +Crawford, the former owner of the A-Y, sat next to Shields, and when the +lunch had reached the cigar stage he arose and cleared his throat. + +"Ladies and Gentlemen, Bill and Humble," he began amid laughter. "I +have been regarded as the host of this picnic, and the false position +embarrasses me. But any such momentary feeling is compensated by the +importance of what I have to tell you. + +"When I took up the A-Y it was with a determination to keep it and to +spend the rest of my days on it in peace. This I have found to be +impossible, and in consequence I have turned it over to a better man. The +energy which I have seen applied in the right way for the last few weeks +has assured me that the A-Y will soon be second in importance and +wealth to no ranch in this country. I have seen order, system, emerge +from chaos; I have seen five thousand cattle re-branded and taken care +of in such dispatch as to astonish me and be almost beyond my belief. +The sheriff has been as economical in the use of his energy as he can +be in the use of his words. By that I don't mean in the way that is +causing you to smile, but simply that he knows how to accomplish the +most work with the least possible expenditure of effort and time, as +witnessed by the condition of this ranch to-day. But while he has been +the guiding spirit in the work of putting the ranch on its proper +footing, he has had as good assistants as it is possible to find. + +"I don't wish to tire you with any long speech, for brevity is the soul +of more than wit, so I will close by telling you that the A-Y is in new +and better hands--our sheriff is now its owner, and I extend to him my +heartiest wishes for his success in his new venture. I must thank him and +all of you for a very pleasant day and a memory to take East with me." + +For an instant there was intense silence, and then a small battle seemed +to be taking place. The noise of the shooting and cheering was deafening +and smoke rolled down like a heavy fog. The sheriff met the rush toward +him and put in a very busy few minutes in shaking hands and replying +to the hearty congratulations which poured in upon him from all sides. +Everybody was happy and all were talking at once, and Bill could be heard +reeling off an unbroken string of words at high speed. + +The Orphan fought his way to his best friend and gripped both hands in his +own. + +"By God, Sheriff!" he cried. "This is great news, and I'm plumb glad to +hear it! I hope you have the very best of luck and that your returns, both +in pleasure and money, far exceed your fondest expectations. Anything I +can do is yours for the asking." + +"Thank you, son," replied the sheriff, looking fondly into his friend's +eyes. "I'm going to call on you just as soon as I can make myself heard +in all this hellabaloo. Just listen to that!" he exclaimed as Silent let +loose again. + +"Glory be!" yelled he of the misleading name, slapping Humble across the +back. "For this you ride home like a white man, Humble--all your sins are +forgiven! Hurrah for the sheriff, his family and the A-Y!" he shouted at +the top of his lungs, and his cheer was supported unanimously with true +cowboy enthusiasm and vim. + +"Hurray for me, too!" shouted Bill in laughter. Then he fled, with Silent +in hot pursuit. + +The sheriff tried to speak, and after several attempts was finally given +silence. + +"Thank you, everybody!" he cried, his face beaming. "I am happy for many +reasons to-day, but foremost among them is the fact that I have so many +warm and loyal friends. The A-Y is always open to all of you, and I'll be +some disappointed if you don't put in a lot of your spare time over here." + +He paused for a few seconds and then looked at The Orphan, who stood at +Helen's side. + +"Mr. Crawford did his part a whole lot better than I can do mine, I'm +afraid, but I'm going to do my best, anyhow. The news has only been half +told--the name of the new foreman of the A-Y henceforth will be The +Orphan! Whoop her up, boys!" he shouted, leading a cheer which was not +one whit less a cheer than those which had gone before. + +The Orphan stared in astonishment, for once in his life he had been +surprised. The sheriff at last had the drop on him. He looked from one to +another, started to step forward and then changed his mind and looked +appealingly at Helen, who smiled in a way to double the speed of his +heart-beats. + +Her eyes were moist, and the sudden consciousness that she formed half +of the objective of all eyes caused her cheeks to go crimson. Her hand +impulsively went to his shoulder and without thought on her part, and his +incredulous questioning was answered by her. + +"It's all true," she said earnestly. "I've known of it for a whole week +now. You are the real foreman of the A-Y, and I most earnestly hope for +your success." + +He suddenly seemed to be above the earth and his voice broke in his +stammered reply. For a fraction of a second her eyes had told him what +he had dreamed of, what he had hoped for above all things, and he grasped +her hand for a second as he stepped forward toward his new employer, +whose hand met his with a man's grasp. + +"Thank you, Sheriff," he said, his head whirling from the surprises of a +minute. "You've been squarer and fairer with me than any man I've ever +known, and hell will look nice to me if I don't make good with you. + +"Thank you, boys; thank you, Bill: you're all right, every one of you!" +he cried as his friends crowded about him. "What the sheriff said +about warm friends was the truth--thank you, Bud and Jim! Thank you, +Blake--you're another brick! Good God, what I have gained in two months! +I can scarcely believe it, it seems so like a dream. That's a real +warm grip, all right, though," he exclaimed as he shook hands with Humble, +"so I reckon it's all true. Two months!" he marveled. "Two glorious, +glorious months! A new start in life, a loyal crowd of friends, a--and +all in two months! And there is the man I owe it all to," he suddenly +cried, pointing to the sheriff. "There's the whitest man God ever made, +and I'll kill the man who says I lie!" + +"Good boy!" shouted Bill in enthusiastic endorsement. "You two make a pair +of aces what can beat any full-house ever got together, and _I_'ll lick +the man who says _I_ lie!" he yelled pugnaciously. "The Orphant may be +an orphant, all right, but he's got a whole lot of brothers." + +Mrs. Shields walked over to The Orphan and placed a motherly hand on his +shoulder as he recovered. + +"You won't be an orphan any longer, my boy," she said, smiling up at him. +"You're one of us now--I always wanted a son, and God has given me one +in you." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +TEX WILLIARD'S MISTAKE + + +During the month which followed the picnic things ran smoothly on the +A-Y, and the rejuvenated ranch was the pride of the whole contingent, +from the sheriff down to the cook. The Orphan had taken charge with a +determination which grew firmer with each passing day and the new +owner was delighted at the outcome of his plans. The foreman, elated +and happy at his sudden shift in fortune, radiated cheerfulness and +consideration. His men knew that he would not ask them to do anything +which he himself feared to do, which would not have been much consolation +to a timid man, since he feared nothing; but to them it meant that +they had a foreman who would stick by them through fire and water, +and a foreman who commands respect from his outfit is a man whose life +is made easy for him. He had known too much of unkindness, harshness, +to become angry at mistakes; instead, he set diligently at work to undo +them, and mistakes were rare. The very men who had once wished for his +life would now fight instantly to save it. They were proud of him, of +the owner, the ranch and themeselves; and proudest of all was Bill, once +driver of the stage, but now a cowboy working hard and loyally under the +man who had once held him up for a smoke. + +Visitors were numerous, and every man who called became enthusiastic +about the ranch, and after he had departed marveled at the complete +change in the man who was its foreman, and felt confidence in the good +judgment of the sheriff. Ford's Station was openly jubilant, for the town +exulted in the discomfiture of the Cross Bar-8 and in the proof that +their sheriff was right. And Ford's Station chuckled at the news it +heard, for the foreman of the Cross Bar-8 had called twice at the A-Y and +was fast losing his prejudice against The Orphan. Sneed had found a +quiet, optimistic foreman in the place of his former enemy, and the +laughter which lurked in The Orphan's eyes closed the breach. He had +seen the man in a new light, and when he had said his farewell at the +close of his second visit the grip of his hand was strong. As for the +Star C, a trail had been worn between the two ranches and hardly a day +passed but one or more of its punchers dropped in to say a few words to +their former bunkmate, and to stir up Bill. The Star C, no less than his +own men, swore by The Orphan. + +One bright morning the sheriff left for a trip to Chicago and other +packing cities to arrange for future cattle shipments, and announced +that he would be away for a week or two. On the night following his +departure trouble began. The ranch and bunk houses of the Cross Bar-8 +were fired into, and when Sneed and his men had returned after a fruitless +search in the dark the foreman stared at the wall and swore. Was it The +Orphan again? In the absence of the sheriff had he renewed the war? +First thought cried that he had, but gradually the idea became untenable. +Why should The Orphan risk his splendid berth on the A-Y, his prospects +now rich in promise, to work off any lingering hatred? When Sneed had +shaken hands with him he found apparent sincerity in the warm clasp. He +would ride over at daylight and have the matter settled once and for +all. And if satisfied that The Orphan was guiltless of the outrage he +would turn his whole attention to the imitator of the former outlaw. + +The Orphan was mending his saddle girth when he saw Sneed cantering past +the farthest corral. The latter's horse bore all the signs of hard riding +and he looked up inquiringly at the visitor. + +"Good morning, Sneed," he said pleasantly, arising and laying aside the +saddle. "What's up, anything?" + +"Yes, and I came over to find out about it," Sneed answered. "I hardly +know how to begin--but here, I'll tell it from the beginning," and he +related what had occurred, much to the wonder of The Orphan. + +"Now," finished the visitor, "I want to ask you a question, although I +may be a d----n fool for doing it. But I want to get this thing thrashed +out. Do you know who did it?" + +The foreman of the A-Y straightened up, his eyes flashing, and then he +realized that Sneed had some right to question him after what had occurred +in the past. + +"No, Sneed, I do not," he answered, "but in two guesses I can name the +man!" + +"Good!" cried Sneed. "Go ahead!" + +"Bucknell?" + +"No, he was with me in the bunk-house," replied the foreman of the Cross +Bar-8. "It wasn't him--go on." + +"Tex Williard," said The Orphan with decision. + +"Tex?" cried Sneed. "Why?" + +"It's plain as day, Sneed," The Orphan answered. "He's sore at me, but +lacks nerve." + +"But, thunderation, how would he hurt you by shooting at us?" Sneed +demanded, impatiently. + +"Oh, he would scare up a war during the sheriff's absence by throwing your +suspicions on me. He reckoned you would think that I did it, get good +and mad, fly off the handle and raise h--l generally. He figured that +I, according to the past, would meet you half way and that you or some +of your men might kill me. If you didn't, he reckoned that the sheriff +would kick me out of this berth, and that one or both of us might get +killed in the argument. He could sit back and laugh to himself at how easy +it was to square up old scores from a distance. It's Tex as sure as I am +here, and unless Tex changes his plans and gets out of this country d----n +soon he won't be long in getting what he seems to ache for." + +Sneed pushed back his sombrero and smiled grimly: "I reckon that you're +right," he replied. "But you ain't sore at the way I asked, are you? I +had to begin somewhere, you know." + +"Sore?" rejoined his companion, angrily. "Sore? I'm so sore that I'm going +out after Tex right now. And I'll get him or know the reason why, too. +You go back and post your men about this--and tell them on no account +to ride over my range for a few days, for they might get hurt before they +are known. Put a couple of them to bed as soon as you get back--you need +them to keep watch nights." + +He turned toward the corral and called to a man who was busy near it: +"Charley, you take anybody that you want and get in a good sleep before +nightfall. I will want both of you to work to-night." + +"All right, after dinner will be time enough," Charley replied. "I'll take +Lefty Lukins." + +The Orphan went into the ranch house and returned at once with his rifle, +a canteen of water and a package of food. As he threw a saddle on his +horse Bill galloped up, waving his arms and very much excited. + +"Hey, Orphant!" he shouted. "Somebody's shore enough plugged some of our +cows near the creek! I lost his trail at the Cottonwoods!" + +"All right, Bill," replied the foreman, "I'll go out and look them over. +You take another horse and ride to the Star C. Tell Blake to keep watch +for Tex Williard, and tell him to hold Tex for me if he sees him. Lively, +Bill!" + +Bill stared, leaped from his horse, took the saddle from its back and was +soon lost to sight in the corral. In a few minutes he galloped past his +foreman and Sneed swearing heartily. His quirt arose and fell and soon +he was lost to sight over a rise near the ranch-house. + +The foreman of the A-Y rode over to Charley: "Charley, in case I don't get +back to-night, you and Lefty keep guard somewhere out here, and shoot +any man who don't halt at your hail. If I return in the dark I'll whistle +Dixie as soon as I see the lights in the bunk house, and I'll keep it +up so you won't mistake me. So long." + +Sneed and he cantered away together and soon they parted, the former to +ride toward his ranch, the latter toward the Cottonwoods near the Limping +Water and along the trail left by Bill. + +When near the grove The Orphan saw five dead cows and he quickly +dismounted to examine them. + +"Not dead for long," he muttered as he examined the blood on them. He +leaped into his saddle and galloped through the grove. "Now, by God, +somebody pays for them!" he muttered. + +Here was a sudden change in things, positions had been reversed, and +now he could appreciate the feelings which he had, more than once, aroused +in the hearts of numerous foremen. He emerged from the grove and rode +rapidly along the trail left by the perpetrator, alert, grim and angry. +Soon the trail dipped beneath the waters of the creek and he stopped +and thought for a few seconds. If it was Tex, he would not have ridden +toward the Cross Bar-8 and the town, and neither would he have ridden +south toward the Star C, nor north in the direction of the A-Y. He would +seek cover for the day if he was still determined to carry on his game, +and would not emerge until night covered his movements. That left him +only the west along the creek, and more than that, the creek turned to the +south again about five miles farther on and flowed far too close to the +ranch-houses of the Star C for safety. He must have left the water at the +turn, and toward the turn rode The Orphan, watching intently for the trail +to emerge on either bank. His deductions were sound, for when he had +rounded the bend of the stream he picked up the trail where it left +the water and followed it westward. + +The country around the bend was very wild and rough, for ravines between +the hills cut seams and gashes in the plain. The underbrush was shoulder +high, and he did not know how soon he might become a target. The trail +was very fresh in the soft loam of the ravines and the broken branches +and trampled leaves were still wet with sap. Soon he hobbled his horse +and proceeded on foot, but to one side of and parallel with the trail. +He had spent an hour in his advance and had begun to regret having left +his horse so early, when he heard the report of a gun near at hand and +a bullet hissed viciously over his head as he stooped to go under a low +branch. + +He threw up his arms, the rifle falling from his hands, pitched forward +and rolled down the side of the hill and behind a fallen tree trunk +which lay against a thicket. As soon as he had gained this position he +glanced in the direction from whence the shot had come and, finding +himself screened from sight on that side, quickly jerked off his boots and +planted them among the bushes, where they looked as if he had crawled in +almost out of sight. That done, he crawled along the ground under the +protection of the tree trunk and then squirmed under it, when he pushed +himself, feet first, deep into a tangled thicket and waited, Colt in +hand, for a sign of his enemy's approach. + +A quarter of an hour had passed in silence when a shot, followed by +another, sounded from the hillside. After the lapse of a like interval +another shot was fired, this time from the opposite direction. He saw a +twig fall by the boots and heard the spat! of the bullet as it hit a +stone. Two more shots sounded in rapid succession, and then another long +interval of silence. Half an hour passed, but he was not impatient. He +most firmly believed that his man would, sooner or later, come out to +examine the boots, and time was of no consequence: he wanted the man. + +Whoever he was, he was certainly cautious, he did not believe in taking +any chances. It was almost certain that he would not leave until he had +been assured that he had accomplished his purpose, for it would be most +disconcerting at some future time to unexpectedly meet the man he thought +he had murdered. Another shot whizzed into the place where the body +should have been, according to the silent testimony of the boots. It +sounded much closer to the thicket, but in the same direction of the +last few shots. Then, after ten minutes of silence, a twig snapped, +and directly behind the thicket in which The Orphan was hidden! The +foreman's nerves were tense now, his every sense was alert, for his +was a most dangerous position. He quickly glanced over his shoulder into +the thicket and found that he could not penetrate the mass of leaves and +branches, which reassured him. He was very glad that he had forced himself +well into the cover, for soon the leaves rustled and a pebble rolled not +more than four feet off, and in front of him, slightly at his right. +More rustling and then a head and shoulder slowly pushed past him into +view. The man moved very slowly and cautiously and was crouched, his +head far in advance of his waist. The Orphan could see only one side +of the face, the angle of the man's jaw and an ear, but that was enough, +for he knew the owner. Slowly and without a sound the foreman's right +hand turned at the wrist until the Colt gleamed on a line with the +other's heart. The searcher leaned forward and to one side, that he +might better see the boots, when a sound met his ears. + +"Don't move," whispered the foreman. + +The prowler stiffened in his tracks, frozen to rigidity by the command. +Then he slowly turned his head and looked squarely into the gun of the +man he thought he had killed. + +"Christ!" he cried hoarsely, starting back. + +"I don't reckon you'll ever know Him," said The Orphan, his voice very +low and monotonous. "Stand just as you are--don't move--I want to talk +with you." + +Tex simply stared at him in pitiful helplessness and could not speak, +beads of perspiration standing out on his face, testifying to the agony +of fear he was in. + +"You're on the wrong side of the game again, Tex," The Orphan said slowly, +watching the puncher narrowly, his gun steady as a rock. "You still +want to kill me, it seems. I've given you your life twice, once to your +knowledge, and I told you with the sheriff that I would shoot you if you +ever returned; and still you have come back to have me do it. You were +not satisfied to let things rest as they were." + +Tex did not reply, and The Orphan continued, a flicker of contempt about +his lips. + +"You were never cast for an outlaw, Tex. If I do say it myself, it +takes a clever man to live at that game, and I know, for I've been all +through it. As you see, Sneed and I didn't shoot each other, for the +play was too plain, too transparent. You should have ambushed one of +his men, burned his corrals and slaughtered his cattle, for then he +might have shot and talked later. And he might have gotten me, too, +for I was unsuspecting. I don't say that I would kill an innocent man to +arouse his anger if I had been in your place, I'm only showing you +where you made the mistake, where you blundered. Had you killed one of +his men it is very probable that his rage would have known no bounds, +but as it was the provocation was not great enough." + +Tex remained silent and unconsciously toyed at his ear. The Orphan looked +keenly at the movement and wondered where he had seen it before, for it +was familiar. His face darkened as memory urged something forward to +him out of the dark catacombs of the past, and he stilled his breathing +to catch a clue to it. He saw the little ranch his father had worked so +hard over to improve, and had fought hard to save, and then the picture of +his dying mother came vividly before him; but still something avoided +his searching thoughts, something barely eluded him, trembling on the +edge of the Then and Now. He saw his father's body slowly swinging and +turning in the light breeze of a perfect day, and he quivered at the +nearness of what he was seeking, its proximity was tantalizing. The +rope!--the rope about his father's neck had been of manila fiber; he +could never forget the soiled, bleached-yellow streak which had led +upward to Eternity. And manila ropes were, at that time, a rarity in +that part of the country, for rawhide and braided-hair lariats had been +the rule. And on the day when he had given Tex his life in the defile he +had noticed the faded yellow rope which had swung at the puncher's saddle +horn. As he strained with renewed hope to catch the elusive impression +another scene came before him. It was of three men bent over a cow, +engaged in blotting out his father's brand, and instantly the face of +one of them sprang into sharp definition on his mental canvas. + +"D----n you!" he cried, his finger tightening on the trigger of the +Colt which for so many years had been his best friend. "I know you now, +changed as you are! Now I know why you have been so determined for my +death. On the day that I cut my father down I swore that I would kill +the man who had lynched him if kind fate let me find him, and I have +found him. You have just five minutes to live, so make the most of it, you +cowardly murderer!" + +Tex's face went suddenly white again and his nerve deserted him. His Colt +was in his hand, but oh, so useless! Should he fight to the end? A shudder +ran through him at the thought, for life was so good, so precious; far +too precious to waste a minute of it by dying before his time was up. +Perhaps the foreman would relent, perhaps he would become so wrapped +up in the memories of the years gone by as to forget, just for half a +second, where he was. The watch in The Orphan's hand gave him hope, +for he would wait until the other glanced at it--that would be his only +hope of life. + +The foreman's watch ticked loudly in the palm of his left hand and the +Colt in his right never quivered. The first minute passed in terrifying +silence, then the second, then the third, but all the time The Orphan's +eyes stared steadily at the man before him, gray, cruel, unblinking. + +"They told me to do it! They told me to do it!" shrieked the pitiful, +unnerved wreck of a man as he convulsively opened and shut his hand. +"I didn't want to do it! I swear I didn't want to do it! As God is above, +I didn't want to! They made me, they made me!" he cried, his words swiftly +becoming an unintelligible jumble of meaningless sounds. He stared at the +black muzzle of the Colt, frozen by terror, fascinated by horror and +deadened by despair. The watch ticked on in maddening noise, for his every +sense was now most acute, beating in upon his brain like the strokes of a +hammer. Then the foreman glanced quickly at it. The gun in Tex's hand +leaped up, but not quickly enough, and a spurt of smoke enveloped his face +as he fell. The Orphan stepped back, dropping the Colt into its holster. + +[Illustration: "The Orphan stepped back a pace and dropped the Colt into +its holster." (_See page_ 390.)] + +"The courage of despair!" he whispered. "But I'm glad he died game," he +slowly added. Then he suddenly buried his face in his hands: "Helen!" he +cried. "Helen--forgive me!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE GREAT HAPPINESS + + +The town was rapidly losing sharpness of detail, for the straggling +buildings were becoming more and more blurred and were growing into sharp +silhouettes in the increasing dusk, and the sickly yellow lights were +growing more numerous in the scattered windows. + +Helen moved about the dining-room engaged in setting the table and +she had just placed fresh flowers in the vase, when she suddenly stopped +and listened. Faintly to her ears came the pounding hoofbeats of a +galloping horse on the well-packed street, growing rapidly nearer with +portentous speed. It could not be Miss Ritchie, for there was a vast +difference between the comparatively lazy gallop of her horse and the +pulse-stirring tattoo which she now heard. The hoofbeats passed the +corner without slackening pace, and whirled up the street, stopping in +front of the house with a suddenness which she had long since learned +to attribute to cowboys. She stood still, afraid to go to the door, +numbed with a nameless fear--something terrible must have happened, +perhaps to The Orphan. The rider ran up the path, his spurs jingling +sharply, leaped to the porch, and the door was dashed open to show him +standing before her, sombrero in hand, his quirt dangling from his left +wrist. He was dusty and tired, but the expression on his face terrified +her, held her speechless. + +"Helen!" he cried hoarsely, driving her fear deeper into her heart by +his altered voice. "Helen!" She trembled, and he made a gesture of +hopelessness and involuntarily stepped toward her, letting the door swing +shut behind him. He stood just within the room, rigidly erect, his eyes +meeting hers in the silence of strong emotion. Breathlessly she retreated +as he advanced, as if instinct warned her of what he had to tell her, +until the table was between them; and a spasm of pain flickered across +his face as he noticed it, leaving him hard and stern again, but in +his eyes was a look of despair, a keen misery which softened her and +drew her toward him even while she feared him. + +The silence became unbearable and at last she could endure it no longer. +"What is it?" she breathed, tensely. "What have you to tell me?" + +His eyes never wavered from her face, fascinated in despair of what he +must read there, much as he dreaded it, and he answered her from between +set lips, much as a man would pronounce his own death sentence. "I have +broken my word," he said, harshly. + +"Broken your word--to me?" she asked. + +"Yes." + +Her face brightened and was softened by a child-like wonder, for she felt +relieved in a degree, and unconsciously she moved nearer to him. "What is +it--what have you done?" + +He regarded her without appraising the change in her expression and his +reply was as harsh and stern as his first statement, accompanied by no +excuses nor words of extenuation. "I have killed a man," he said. + +A shiver passed over her and her eyes went closed for a moment. The +great choice was at hand now, and in her heart a fierce, short battle +raged; on one side was arrayed her early training, all her teachings, all +regard for the ideas of law and order which she had absorbed in the East, +where human life was safeguarded as the first necessity; and on the +other was the Unwritten Law of the range as exemplified by The Orphan. +Blood, and human blood, was precious, and her early environment fought +bitterly against this regime of direct justice, so startlingly driven +into her mind by his bold, cold admission. And then, he had sinned in +this way again after he had promised her not to do so. The last thought +dominated her and she opened her eyes and looked at him hopefully. + +"Perhaps," she said, eagerly, "perhaps you could not avoid it--perhaps you +were forced to do it." + +"No." + +"Oh!" she cried. "You did not--you did not shoot him down without warning! +I _know_ you didn't!" + +"No, not that," he said slowly. "And, besides, this was his third offense. +Twice I have given him his life, and I would have done so again but for +what I discovered after I faced him." He paused for a moment and then +continued, with more feeling in his voice, a ring of victory and an +irrepressible elation. "I found that he was the man for whom I have +been looking for fifteen years, and whom I had sworn to kill. He killed +my father, killed him like a dog and without a chance for life, hung +him to a tree on his own land. And when I learned that, when he had +confessed to me, I forgot the new game, I forgot everything but the +watch in my hand slowly ticking away his life, the time I had given him +to make his peace with God--and I hated the slow seconds, I begrudged +him every movement of the hands. Then I shot him, and I was glad, so +glad--but oh, dear! If you--if you----" + +His voice wavered and broke and he dropped to his knees before her with +bowed head as she came slowly toward him and seized the hem of her gown +in both hands, kissing it passionately, burying his face in its folds like +a tired boy at his mother's knee. + +Her eyes were filled with tears and they rimmed her lashes as she looked +down on the man at her feet. Bending, she touched him and then placed her +hands on his head, tenderly kissing the tangled hair in loving forgiveness. + +"Dear, dear boy," she murmured softly. "Don't, dear heart. Don't, you +must not--oh, you must not! Please--come with me; get up, dear, and sit +with me over here in the corner; then you shall tell me all about it. I +am sure you have not done wrong--and if you have--don't you know I love +you, boy? Don't you know I love you?" + +He stirred slightly, as if awakening from a troubled sleep, and slowly +raised his head and looked at her with doubt in his eyes, for it was so +much like a dream--perhaps it was one. But he saw a light on her face, +a light which a man sees only on the face of one woman and which blinds +him against all other lights forever. Then it was true, all true--he had +heard aright! "Helen!" he cried, "Helen!" and the ring in his voice +brought new tears to her eyes. He sprang to his feet, tense, eager, all +his nerves tingling, and his quirt hissed through the air and snapped a +defiance, a warning to the world as he clasped her to him. "I _knew_, +I _knew!_" he cried passionately. "In my heart I _knew_ you were a +thoroughbred!" + +He tilted her head back, but she laughed low with delight and eluded him, +leading him to a chair, the chair he had occupied on the occasion of his +first visit, and then drew a low, rough footrest beside him and seated +herself at his feet, her elbows resting on his knees and her chin in her +hands. He looked down into the upturned face and then glanced swiftly +about the homelike room and back to her face again. She snuggled tightly +against his knees and waited patiently for his story. + +He sighed contentedly and touched her cheek reverently and then told her +all of the story of Tex Williard, from the very beginning to the very end, +from the time he had seen Tex bending over one of his father's cows to +the last scene in the thicket. When he had finished, Helen took his head +between her hands, pressing it warmly as she nodded wisely to show that +she understood. He looked deep into her eyes and then suddenly bent +his head until his lips touched her ear: "Helen, darling," he whispered, +"how long must I wait?" + +"Why, you scamp!" she exclaimed, teasingly, threatening to draw away from +him. "You haven't even told me that you love me!" + +He pressed her hands tightly and laughed aloud, joyously, filled with an +elated, effervescent gladness which surged over him in waves of delight: +"Haven't I? Oh, but you know better, dear. Many and many times I have +told you that, and in many ways, and you knew it and understood. You +never doubted it, and I hope," he added seriously, "that you never will." + +"I never will, dear." + +They did not hear Grace Ritchie in the kitchen, did not hear her quiet +step as it crossed the threshold and stopped, and then tiptoed to the +rear door and sped lightly around the house to the street, and down it +to where Mrs. Shields and Mary were walking toward the house. They did not +know that half an hour had passed since the coming of the quiet step and +the three women, and that the supper was hopelessly ruined. They knew +nothing--and Everything: they had learned the Great Happiness. + +THE END + + + + +Popular Copyright Books + +AT MODERATE PRICES + +Any of the following titles can be bought of your +bookseller at the price you paid for this volume + +Alternative, The. By George Barr McCutcheon. +Angel of Forgiveness, The. By Rosa N. Carey. +Angel of Pain, The. By E. F. Benson. +Annals of Ann, The. By Kate Trimble Sharber. +Battle Ground, The. By Ellen Glasgow. +Beau Brocade. By Baroness Orczy. +Beechy. By Bettina Von Hutten. +Bella Donna. By Robert Hichens. +Betrayal, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. +Bill Toppers, The. By Andre Castaigne. +Butterfly Man, The. By George Barr McCutcheon. +Cab No. 44. By R. F. Foster. +Calling of Dan Matthews, The. By Harold Bell Wright +Cape Cod Stories. By Joseph C. Lincoln. +Challoners, The. By E. F. Benson. +City of Six, The. By C. L. Canfield. +Conspirators, The, By Robert W. Chambers. +Dan Merrithew. By Lawrence Perry. +Day of the Dog, The. By George Barr McCutcheon. +Depot Master, The. By Joseph C. Lincoln. +Derelicts. By William J. Locke. +Diamonds Cut Paste. By Agnes & Egerton Castle. +Early Bird, The. By George Randolph Chester +Eleventh Hour, The. By David Potter. +Elizabeth in Rugen. By the author of Elizabeth and Her German Garden. +Flying Mercury, The. By Eleanor M. Ingram. +Gentleman, The. By Alfred Ollivant. +Girl Who Won, The. By Beth Ellis. +Going Some. By Rex Beach. +Hidden Water. By Dane Coolidge. +Honor of the Big Snows, The. By James Oliver Curwood. +Hopalong Cassidy. By Clarence E. Mulford. +House of the Whispering Pines, The. By Anna Katherine Green. +Imprudence of Prue, The. 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By Maria Thompson Davies. +Romance of a Plain Man, The. By Ellen Glasgow. +Running Fight, The. By Wm. Hamilton Osborne. +Septimus. By William J. Locke. +Silver Horde, The. By Rex Beach. +Spirit Trail, The. By Kate & Virgil D. Boyles. +Stanton Wins. By Eleanor M. Ingram. +Stolen Singer, The. By Martha Bellinger. +Three Brothers, The. By Eden Phillpotts. +Thurston of Orchard Valley. By Harold Bindloss. +Title Market, The. By Emily Post. +Vigilante Girl, A. By Jerome Hart. +Village of Vagabonds, A. By F. Berkeley Smith. +Wanted--A Chaperon. By Paul Leicester Ford. +Wanted: A Matchmaker. By Paul Leicester Ford. +Watchers of the Plains, The. By Ridgwell Cullum. +White Sister, The. By Marion Crawford. +Window at the White Cat, The. By Mary Roberts Rhinehart. +Woman in Question. The. By John Reed Scott. + + + + +Popular Copyright Books + +AT MODERATE PRICES + +Any of the following titles can be bought of your +bookseller at the price you paid for this volume + +Anna the Adventuress. By E. 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By Bettina Von Hutten. +Ladder of Swords, A. By Gilbert Parker. +Lorimer of the Northwest. By Harold Bindloss. +Lorraine. By Robert W. Chambers. +Loves of Miss Anne, The. By S. R. Crockett + + + + +Popular Copyright Books + +AT MODERATE PRICES + +Any of the following titles can be bought of your +bookseller at the price you paid for this volume + +Marcaria. By Augusta J. Evans. +Mam' Linda. By Will N. Harben. +Maids of Paradise, The. By Robert W. Chambers. +Man in the Corner, The. By Baroness Orczy. +Marriage A La Mode. By Mrs. Humphry Ward. +Master Mummer, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. +Much Ado About Peter. By Jean Webster. +Old, Old Story, The. By Rosa N. Carey. +Pardners. By Rex Beach. +Patience of John Moreland, The. By Mary Dillon. +Paul Anthony, Christian. By Hiram W. Hays. +Prince of Sinners, A. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. +Prodigious Hickey, The. By Owen Johnson. +Red Mouse, The. By William Hamilton Osborne. +Refugees, The. By A. Conan Doyle. +Round the Corner in Gay Street. Grace S. Richmond. +Rue: With a Difference. By Rosa N. Carey. +Set in Silver. By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. +St. Elmo. By Augusta J. Evans. +Silver Blade, The. By Charles E. Walk. +Spirit in Prison, A. By Robert Hichens. +Strawberry Handkerchief, The. By Amelia E. Barr. +Tess of the D'Urbervilles. By Thomas Hardy. +Uncle William. By Jennette Lee. +Way of a Man, The. By Emerson Hough. +Whirl, The. By Foxcroft Davis. +With Juliet in England. By Grace S. Richmond. +Yellow Circle, The. By Charles E. Walk. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Orphan, by Clarence E. 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Mulford + +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 Orphan + +Author: Clarence E. Mulford + +Illustrator: Allen True + +Release Date: July 1, 2010 [EBook #33039] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ORPHAN *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.fadedpage.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + <div class='figcenter'> + <a id='cover'></a><img src='images/illus-cvr.jpg' alt='' /> + </div> + <hr class='pb' /> +<h1>THE ORPHAN</h1> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a id='link_i1'></a><img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' /> +<p class='center caption'> +“She unfastened the gold breast-pin which she wore at her<br />throat and pinned the bandage into place.” (<i>See page 95.</i>) +</p> +</div> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<div class='titlepage'> +<p class='fs22 mb20'>The Orphan</p> +<p class='fs18 mb10'>By Clarence E. Mulford</p> +<p class='sc '>Author of “Bar-20”</p> +<div class='tpi'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.png' /> +</div> +<p class='sc mb20'>With Four Illustrations in Colors<br />By ALLEN TRUE</p> +<p>A. L. BURT COMPANY</p> +<p>PUBLISHERS<span style='letter-spacing:2em;'> </span>NEW YORK</p> +</div> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c'>Copyright, 1908, by<br />THE OUTING PUBLISHING COMPANY</p> +<hr class='copy' /> +<p class='c'>Entered at Stationer’s Hall, London, England<br /><i>All Rights Reserved</i></p> +<hr class='copy' /> +<p class='c fs12'>THE ORPHAN</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c'>AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED TO<br /><span class='fs12'>MY MOTHER</span></p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<table summary='TOC'> +<tr><td colspan='3' class='center fs12'>CONTENTS</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='3' class='center fs12'></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>I</td><td class='tcol2'>The Sheriff Rides to War</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_1'>3</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>II</td><td class='tcol2'>Concerning an Arrow</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_2'>14</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>III</td><td class='tcol2'>The Sheriff Finds The Orphan</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_3'>33</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>IV</td><td class='tcol2'>The Second Offense</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_4'>45</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>V</td><td class='tcol2'>Bill Justifies his Creation</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_5'>60</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>VI</td><td class='tcol2'>The Orphan Obeys an Impulse</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_6'>80</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>VII</td><td class='tcol2'>The Outfit Hunts for Strays</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_7'>104</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>VIII</td><td class='tcol2'>“A Timber Wolf in his Own Country”</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_8'>125</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>IX</td><td class='tcol2'>The Cross Bar-8 Loses Sleep</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_9'>131</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>X</td><td class='tcol2'>The Orphan Pays Two Calls</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_10'>147</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XI</td><td class='tcol2'>A Voice From the Gallery</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_11'>173</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XII</td><td class='tcol2'>A New Deal All Around</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_12'>193</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XIII</td><td class='tcol2'>The Star C Gives Welcome</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_13'>210</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XIV</td><td class='tcol2'>The Sheriff States Some Facts</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_14'>240</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XV</td><td class='tcol2'>An Understanding</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_15'>266</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XVI</td><td class='tcol2'>The Flying-Mare</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_16'>284</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XVII</td><td class='tcol2'>The Feast</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_17'>299</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XVIII</td><td class='tcol2'>Preparation</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_18'>325</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XIX</td><td class='tcol2'>The Orphan Goes to the A-Y</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_19'>340</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XX</td><td class='tcol2'>Bill Attends the Picnic</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_20'>352</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXI</td><td class='tcol2'>The Announcement</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_21'>368</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXII</td><td class='tcol2'>Tex Williard’s Mistake</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_22'>375</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1'>XXIII</td><td class='tcol2'>The Great Happiness</td><td class='tcol3'><a href='#link_23'>392</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<table summary='LOI'> +<tr><td colspan='3' class='center fs12'>ILLUSTRATIONS</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='3' class='center fs12'></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1i'>“She unfastened the gold breast-pin which she wore at her throat and pinned the bandage into place”</td><td class='tcol2i'><a href='#link_i1'><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1i'>“‘The less you count the longer you’ll live!’ said Shields”</td><td class='tcol2i'><a href='#link_i2'>192</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1i'>The Orphan gives Blake Shields’ note</td><td class='tcol2i'><a href='#link_i3'>214</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class='tcol1i'>“The Orphan stepped back a pace and dropped the Colt into its holster”</td><td class='tcol2i'><a href='#link_i4'>390</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.8em; margin-bottom:20px;'>THE ORPHAN</p> + +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3'></a>3</span><a id='link_1'></a>CHAPTER I<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE SHERIFF RIDES TO WAR</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>M</span>ANY men swore that The Orphan was bad, +and many swore profanely and with +wonderful command of epithets because he was bad, but for obvious reasons +that was as far as the majority went to show their displeasure. Those of +the minority who had gone farther and who had shown their hatred by rash +actions only proved their foolishness; for they had indeed gone far and +would return no more.</p> + +<p>Tradition had it that The Orphan was a mongrel, +a half-breed, asserting that his mother had +been a Sioux with negro blood in her veins. It +also asserted that his father had been nominated +and unanimously elected, by a posse, to an elevated +position under a tree; and further, that The +Orphan himself had been born during a cloudburst +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4'></a>4</span> +at midnight on the thirteenth of the month. +The latter was from the Mexicans, who found +great delight in making such terrifying combinations +of ill luck.</p> + +<p>But tradition was strongly questioned as to his +mother, for how could the son of such a mother +be possessed of the dare-devil courage and grit +which had made his name a synonym of terror? +This contention was well stated and is borne out, +for it can be authoritatively said that the mother +of The Orphan was white, and had neither Indian +nor negro blood in her veins, but on the contrary +came from a family of gentlefolk. Thus I start +aright by refuting slander. The Orphan was +white, his profanity blue, and his anger red, and +having started aright, I will continue with the +events which led to the discovery of his innate +better qualities and their final ascendency over the +savagely hard nature which circumstances had +bred in him. These events began on the day when +James Shields, for reasons hereinafter set forth, +became actively interested in his career.</p> + +<p>Shields, by common consent Keeper of the Law +over a territory as large as the State of New Jersey +and whom out of courtesy I will call sheriff, was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5'></a>5</span> +no coward, and neither was he a fool; and when +word came to him that The Orphan had made a +mess of two sheep herders near the U Bend of the +Limping Water Creek, he did not forthwith pace +the street and inform the citizens of Ford’s Station +that he was about to start on a journey which +had for its object the congratulation of The +Orphan at long range. Upon occasions his taciturnity +became oppressive, especially when grave +dangers or tense situations demanded concentration +of thought. The more he thought the less +he talked, the one notable exception being when +stirred to righteous anger by personal insults, in +which case his words flowed smoothly along one +channel while his thoughts gripped a single idea. +To his acquaintances he varied as the mood +directed, often saying practically nothing for +hours, and at other times discoursing volubly. One +thing, a word of his, had become proverbial–when +Shields said “Hell!” he was in no mood for pleasantries, +and the third repetition of the word meant +red, red anger. He was a man of strong personality, +who loved his friends in staunch, unswerving +loyalty; and he tolerated his enemies until the last +ditch had been reached.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6'></a>6</span>He, like The Orphan, was essentially a humorist +in the finest definition of the term, inasmuch as he +could find humor in the worst possible situations. +He was even now forcibly struck with the humor +of his contemplated ride, for The Orphan would +be so very much surprised to see him. He could +picture the expression of weary toleration which +would grace the outlaw’s face over the sights, and +he chuckled inwardly as he thought of how The +Orphan would swear. He did his shooting as an +unavoidable duty, a business, a stern necessity; and +he took great delight in its accuracy. When he +shot at a man he did it with becoming gravity, but +nevertheless he radiated pride and cheerfulness +when he hit the man’s nose or eye or Adam’s apple +at a hundred yards. All the time he knew that the +man ought to die, that it was a case of necessity, +and this explains why he was so pleased about the +eye or nose or Adam’s apple.</p> + +<p>With The Orphan popular opinion said it was +far different; that his humor was ghastly, malevolent, +murderous; that he shot to kill with the same +gravity, but that it was that of icy determination, +chilling ferocity. He was said to be methodical +in the taking of innocent life, even more accurate +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7'></a>7</span> +than the sheriff, wily and shrewd as the leader of a +wolf-pack, and equally relentless. The Orphan +was looked upon as an abnormal development of +the idea of destruction; the sheriff, a corrective +force, and almost as strong as the evil he would +endeavor to overcome. The two came as near to +the scientists’ little joke of the irresistible force +meeting the immovable body as can be found in +human agents.</p> + +<p>So Shields, upon hearing of The Orphan’s latest +manifestation of humor, appreciated the joke to +the fullest extent and made up his mind to play a +similar one on the frisky outlaw. He could not +help but sympathize with The Orphan, because +every man knew what pests the sheepmen were, +and Shields, at one time a cowman, was naturally +prejudiced against sheep. He was exceedingly +weary of having to guard herds of bleating grass-shavers +which so often passed across his domain, +and he regarded the sheep-raising industry as an +unnecessary evil which should by all rights be +deported. But he could not excuse The Orphan’s +crude and savage idea of deportation. The sheriff +was really kind-hearted, and he became angry when +he thought of the outlaw driving two thousand +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8'></a>8</span> +sheep over the steep bank of the Limping Water +to a pitiful death by drowning; The Orphan +should have been satisfied in messing up the +anatomy of the herders. He did not like a glutton, +and he would tell the outlaw so in his own way.</p> + +<p>He walked briskly through his yard and called +to his wife as he passed the house, telling her that +he was going to be gone for an indefinite period, +not revealing the object of his journey, as he did not +wish to worry her. Accustomed as she was to have +him face danger, she had a loving wife’s fear for +his safety, and lost many hours’ sleep while he was +away. He took his rifle from where it leaned +against the porch and continued on his way to the +small corral in the rear of the yard, where two +horses whisked flies and sought the shade. Leading +one of them outside, he deftly slung a saddle +to its back, secured the cinches and put on a light +bridle. Dropping the Winchester into its saddle +holster, he mounted and fought the animal for a +few minutes just as he always had to fight it. He +spun the cylinders of his .45 Colts and ran his +fingers along the under side of his belt for assurance +as to ammunition. Seeing that the black +leather case which was slung from the pommel of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9'></a>9</span> +the saddle contained his field glass and that his +canteen was full of water, he rode to the back door +of his house, where his wife gave him a bag of +food. Promising her that he would take good care +of himself and to return as speedily as possible, he +cantered through the gate and down the street +toward the “Oasis,” the door of which was always +open. Two dogs were stretched out in the doorway, +lazily snapping at flies. As the sheriff drew +rein he heard snores which wheezed from the barroom.</p> + +<p>“Say, Dan!” he cried loudly. “Dan!”</p> + +<p>“Shout it out, Sheriff,” came the response from +within the darkened room, and the bartender +appeared at the door.</p> + +<p>“If anybody wants me, they may find me at +Brent’s; I’m going out that way,” the sheriff said, +as he loosened the reins. “Bite, d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––––</span>n you,” he +growled at his horse.</p> + +<p>“All right, Jim,” sleepily replied the bartender, +watching the peace officer as he cantered briskly +down the street. He yawned, stretched and returned +to his chair, there to doze lightly as long +as he might.</p> + +<p>Shields usually left word at the Oasis as to where +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10'></a>10</span> +he might be found in case he should be badly +needed, but in this instance he had left word where +he could not be found if needed. He cantered out +of the town over the trail which led to Brent’s ranch +and held to it until he had put great enough distance +behind to assure him that he was out of sight +of any curious citizen of Ford’s Station. Then he +wheeled abruptly as he reached the bottom of an +arroyo and swung sharply to the northeast at a +right angle to his former course and pushed his +mount at a lope around the chaparrals and cacti, +all the time riding more to the east and in the +direction of the U Bend of the Limping Water. +He frowned slightly and grumbled as he estimated +that The Orphan would have nearly three hours’ +start of him by the time he reached his objective, +which meant a long chase in the pursuit of such a +man.</p> + +<p>To a tenderfoot the heat would have been very +oppressive, even dangerous, but the sheriff thought +it an ideal temperature for hunting. He smiled +pleasantly at his surroundings and was pleased by +the playful vim of his belligerent pinto, whose +actions were not in the least intended to be playful. +When the animal suddenly turned its head and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11'></a>11</span> +nipped hard and quick at the sheriff’s legs, getting +a mouthful of nasty leather and seasoned ash for +its reward, he gleefully kicked the pony in the eye +when it let go, and then rowelled a streak of perforations +in its ugly hide with his spurs as an +encouragement. The ensuing bucking was joy to +his heart, and he feared that he might eventually +grow to like the animal.</p> + +<p>When he arrived at the U Bend he put in half +an hour burying the human butts of The Orphan’s +joke, for the perpetrator liked to leave his trophies +where they could be seen and appreciated. Shields +looked sadly at the dead sheep, said “Hell” twice +and forded the stream, picked up the outlaw’s trail +on the further side and cantered along it. The +trail was very plain to him, straight as a chalk line, +and it led toward the northeast, which suited the +sheriff, because there was a goodly sized water +hole twenty miles further on in that direction. +Perhaps he would find The Orphan fortified there, +for it would be just like that person to monopolize +the only drinking water within twenty miles and +force his humorous adversary to either take the +hole or go back to the Limping Water for a drink. +Anyway, The Orphan would get awfully soiled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12'></a>12</span> +wallowing about in the mud and water, and he +would not hurt the water much unless he lacked the +decency to bleed on the bank. Having decided to +take the hole in preference to riding back to the +creek, the sheriff immediately dismissed that phase +of the game from his mind and fell to musing +about the rumors which had persistently reiterated +that the Apaches were out.</p> + +<p>Practical joking with The Orphan and interfering +with the traveling of Apache war parties +were much the same in results, so the sheriff made +up his mind to attend to the lesser matter, if need +be, after he had quieted the man he was following. +Everybody knew that Apaches were very bad, but +that The Orphan was worse; and, besides, the latter +would be laughing derisively about that matter +concerning a drink. The sheriff grinned and rode +happily forward, taking pains, however, to circle +around all chaparrals and covers of every nature, +for he did not know but that his playful enemy +might have tired of riding before the water hole +had been reached and decided to camp out under +cover. While the sheriff was unafraid, he had +befitting respect for the quality of The Orphan’s +marksmanship, which was reputed as being above +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13'></a>13</span> +reproach; and he was not expected to determine +offhand whether the outlaw was above lying in +ambush. So he used his field glass constantly in +sweeping covers and rode forward toward the +water hole.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14'></a>14</span><a id='link_2'></a>CHAPTER II<br /><span class='h2fs'>CONCERNING AN ARROW</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>T</span>HE bleak foreground of gray soil, covered +with drifts of alkali and +sand, was studded with clumps of mesquite and cacti and occasional tufts +of sun-burned grass, dusty and somber, while a few sagebrush blended +their leaves to the predominating color. Back of this was a near horizon +to the north and east, brought near by the skyline of a low, undulating +range of sand hills rising from the desert to meet a faded sky. The +morning glow brought this skyline into sharp definition as the dividing +line between the darkness of the plain in the shadow of the range and the +fast increasing morning light. To the south and west the plain blended +into the sky, and there was no horizon.</p> + +<p>Two trails met and crossed near a sand-buffeted +bowlder of lava stone, which was huge, grotesque +and forbidding in its bulky indistinctness. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15'></a>15</span> +first of the trails ran north and south and was faint +but plainly discernible, being beaten a trifle below +the level of the desert and forming a depression +which the winds alternately filled and emptied of +dust; and its arrow-like directness, swerving neither +to the right nor left, bespoke of the haste which +urged the unfortunate traveler to have done with +it as speedily as possible, since there was nothing +alluring along its heat-cursed course to bid him +tarry in his riding. There was yet another reason +for haste, for the water holes were over fifty miles +apart, and in that country water holes were more +or less uncertain and doubtful as to being free from +mineral poisons. On the occasions when the +Apaches awoke to find that many of their young +men were missing, and a proved warrior or two, +this trail become weighted with possibilities, for +this desert was the playground of war parties, an +unlimited ante-room for the preliminaries to predatory +pilgrimages; and the northern trail then partook +of the nature of a huge wire over which played +an alternating current, the potentials of which were +the ranges at one end and the savagery and war +spirit of the painted tribes at the other: and the +voltage was frequently deadly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16'></a>16</span>The other trail, crossing the first at right angles, +led eastward to the fertile valleys of the Canadian +and the Cimarron; westward it spread out like +the sticks of a fan to anywhere and nowhere, gradually +resolving itself into the fainter and still more +faint individual paths which fed it as single strands +feed a rope. It lacked the directness of its intersector +because of the impenetrable chaparrals which +forced it to wander hither and yon. Neither was +it as plain to the eye, for preference, except in cases +of urgent necessity, foreswore its saving of miles +and journeyed by the more circuitous southern trail +which wound beneath cottonwoods and mottes of +live oak and frequently dipped beneath the waters +of sluggish streams, the banks of which were +fringed with willows.</p> + +<p>As a lean coyote loped past the point of intersection +a moving object suddenly topped the skyline +of the southern end of the sandhills to the east and +sprang into sharp silhouette, paused for an instant +on the edge of the range and then, plunging down +into the shadows at its base, rode rapidly toward +the bowlder.</p> + +<p>He was an Apache, and was magnificent in his +proportions and the easy erectness of his poise. He +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17'></a>17</span> +glanced sharply about him, letting his gaze finally +settle on the southern trail and then, leaning over, +he placed an object on the highest point of the +rock. Wheeling abruptly, he galloped back over +his trail, the rising wind setting diligently at work +to cover the hoofprints of his pony. He had no +sooner dropped from sight over the hills than +another figure began to be defined in the dim light, +this time from the north.</p> + +<p>The newcomer rode at an easy canter and found +small pleasure in the cloud of alkali dust which the +wind kept at pace with him. His hat, the first +visible sign of his calling, proclaimed him to be a +cowboy, and when he had stopped at the bowlder +his every possession endorsed the silent testimony +of the hat.</p> + +<p>He was bronzed and self-reliant, some reason +for the latter being suggested by the long-barreled +rifle which swung from his right saddle skirt and +the pair of Colt’s which lay along his thighs. He +wore the usual blue flannel shirt, open at the throat, +the regular silk kerchief about his neck, and the +indispensable chaps, which were of angora goatskin. +His boots were tight fitting, with high heels, +and huge brass spurs projected therefrom. A +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18'></a>18</span> +forty-foot coil of rawhide hung from the pommel +of his “rocking-chair” saddle and a slicker was +strapped behind the cantle.</p> + +<p>He glanced behind him as he drew rein, wondering +when the sheriff would show himself, for he +was being followed, of that he was certain. That +was why he had ridden through so many chaparrals +and doubled on his trail. He was now riding to +describe a circle, the object being to get behind his +pursuer and to do some hunting on his own account. +As he started to continue on his way his quick eyes +espied something on the bowlder which made him +suddenly draw rein again. Glancing to the ground +he saw the tracks made by the Apache, and he +peered intently along the eastern trail with his hand +shading his eyes. The eyes were of a grayish blue, +hard and steely and cruel. They were calculating +eyes, and never missed anything worth seeing. The +fierce glare of the semi-tropical sun which for many +years had daily assaulted them made it imperative +that he squint from half-closed lids, and had given +his face a malevolent look. And the characteristics +promised by the eyes were endorsed by his jaw, +which was square and firm set, underlying thin, +straight lips. But about his lips were graven lines +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19'></a>19</span> +so cynical and yet so humorous as to baffle an +observer.</p> + +<p>Raising his canteen to his lips he counted seven +swallows and then, letting it fall to his side, he +picked up the object which had made him pause. +There was no surprise in his face, for he never was +surprised at anything.</p> + +<p>As he looked at the object he remembered the +rumors of the Apache war dances and of fast-riding, +paint-bedaubed “hunting parties.” What +had been rumor he now knew to be a fact, and his +face became even more cruel as he realized that he +was playing tag with the sheriff in the very heart +of the Apache playground, where death might lurk +in any of the thorny covers which surrounded him +on all sides.</p> + +<p>“Apache war arrow,” he grunted. “Now it +shore beats the devil that me and the sheriff can’t +have a free rein to settle up our accounts. Somebody +is always sticking their nose in my business,” +he grumbled. Then he frowned at the arrow in +his hand. “That red on the head is blood,” he +murmured, noticing the salient points of the +weapon, “and that yellow hair means good scalping. +The thong of leather spells plunder, and it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20'></a>20</span> +was pointing to the east. The buck that brought +it went back again, so this is to show his friends +which way to ride. He was in a hurry, too, judging +from the way he threw sand, and from them +toe-prints.”</p> + +<p>He hated Apaches vindictively, malevolently, +with a single purpose and instinct, because of a +little score he owed them. Once when he had +managed to rustle together a big herd of horses +and was within a day’s ride of a ready market, a +party of Apaches had ridden up in the night and +made off with not only the stolen animals, but also +with his own horse. This had lost him a neat sum +and had forced him to carry a forty-pound saddle, +a bridle and a rifle for two days under a merciless +sun before he reached civilization. He did not +thank them for not killing him, which they for +some reason neglected to do. Apache stock was +down very low with him, and he now had an opportunity +to even the score. Then he thought of the +sheriff, and swore. Finally he decided that he +would just shoot that worthy as soon as he came +within range, and so be free to play his lone hand +against the race that had stolen his horses. His +eyes twinkled at the game he was about to play, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21'></a>21</span> +and he regarded the silent message and guide with +a smile.</p> + +<p>“If it’s all the same to you, I’ll just polish you +up a bit”–and when he replaced it on the bowlder +its former owner would not have known it to +be the same weapon, for its head was not red, but +as bright as the friction of a handful of sand could +make it. This destroyed its message of plentiful +slaughter and, he knew, would grieve his enemies. +He touched it gently with his hand and it swung at +right angles to its former position and now pointed +northward and in the direction from which he +expected the sheriff.</p> + +<p>“It was d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d nice of that Apache leaving me +this, but I reckon I’ll switch them reinforcements–the +sheriff will be some pleased to meet them,” he +said, grinning at the novelty of the situation. +“Nobody will even suspect how a lone puncher”–for +he regarded himself as a cowman–“squaring +up a couple of scores went and saved the eastern +valleys from more devilment. If the war-whoops +are out along the Cimarron and Canadian they +are shore havin’ fun enough to give me a little. +But I would like to see the sheriff’s face when he +bumps into the little party I’m sending his way. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22'></a>22</span> +Wonder how many he will get before he goes +under?”</p> + +<p>Then he again took up the arrow and carefully +removed the hair and thong of leather, chuckling +at the tale of woe the denuded weapon would tell, +after which he placed it as before, wishing he knew +how to indicate that the Apaches had been wiped +out.</p> + +<p>He rode to a chaparral which lay three hundred +yards to the southeast of him and thence around it +to the far side, where he dismounted and fastened +his horse to the empty air by simply allowing the +reins to hang down in front of the animal’s eyes. +The pony knew many things about ropes and +straps, and what it knew it knew well; nothing +short of dynamite would have moved it while the +reins dangled before its eyes.</p> + +<p>Its master slowly returned to the bowlder, where +he set to work to cover his tracks with dust, for +although the shifting sand was doing this for him, +it was not doing it fast enough to suit him. When +he had assured himself that he had performed his +task in a thoroughly workmanlike manner he +returned to his horse, and finally found a snug +place of concealment for it and himself. First +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23'></a>23</span> +bandaging its eyes so that it would not whinny at +the approach of other horses, he searched his pockets +and finally brought to light a pack of greasy +playing cards, with which he amused himself at +solitaire, diligently keeping his eyes on both ends +of the heavier trail.</p> + +<p>His intermittent scrutiny was finally rewarded +by a cloud of dust which steadily grew larger on +the southern horizon and soon revealed the character +of the riders who made it. As they drew +nearer to him his implacable hatred caused him to +pick up his rifle, but he let it slide from him as he +counted the number of the approaching party, +before which was being driven a herd of horses +which were intended to be placed as relays for the +main force.</p> + +<p>“Two, five, eight, eleven, sixteen, twenty, +twenty-four, twenty-seven,” he muttered, carefully +settling himself more comfortably. He could distinguish +the war paint on the reddish-brown colored +bodies, and he smiled at what was in store for +them.</p> + +<p>“I reckon I won’t get gay with no twenty-seven +Apaches,” he muttered. “I can wait, all right.”</p> + +<p>Upon reaching the rock the leaders of the band +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24'></a>24</span> +glanced at the arrow, excitedly exchanged monosyllables +and set off to the north at a hard gallop, +being followed by the others. As he expected, they +were Apaches, which meant that of all red raiders +they were the most proficient. They were human +hyenas with rare intelligence for war and a most +aggravating way of not being where one would +expect them to be, as army officers will testify. +Besides, an Apache war party did not appear to +have stomachs, and so traveled faster and farther +than the cavalry which so often pursued them.</p> + +<p>The watcher chuckled softly at the success of his +stratagem and, suddenly arising, went carefully +around the chaparral until he could see the fast-vanishing +braves. Waiting until they had disappeared +over the northern end of the crescent-shaped +range of hills, he hurried to the bowlder +and again picked up the arrow.</p> + +<p>“Huh! Didn’t take it with them, eh?” he +soliloquized. “Well, that means that there’s more +coming, so I’ll just send the next batch plumb +west–they’ll be some pleased to explore this God-forsaken +desert some extensive.”</p> + +<p>Grinning joyously, he replaced the weapon with +its head pointing westward and then looked anxiously +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25'></a>25</span> +at the tracks of the party which had just +passed. Deciding that the wind would effectually +cover them in an hour at most, he returned to his +hiding place, taking care to cover his own tracks. +Taking a chance on the second contingent going +north was all right, but he didn’t care to run the +risk of having them ride to him for explanations. +Picking up the cards again he shuffled them and +suffered defeat after defeat, and finally announced +his displeasure at the luck he was having.</p> + +<p>“I never saw nothing like it!” he grumbled +petulantly. “Reckon I’ll hit up the Old Thirteen +a few,” beginning a new game. He had whiled +away an hour and a half, and as he stretched himself +his uneasy eyes discovered another cloud on +the southern horizon, which was smaller than the +first. He placed the six of hearts on the five of +hearts, ruffled the pack and then put the cards +down and took up his rifle, watching the cloud +closely. He was soon able to count seven warriors +who were driving another “cavvieyeh” of horses.</p> + +<p>“Huh! Only seven!” he grunted, shifting his +rifle for action. The fighting lust swept over him, +but he choked it down and idly fingered the hammer +of the gun. “Nope, I reckon not–seven husky +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26'></a>26</span> +Apaches are too much for one man to go out of his +way to fight. Now, if the sheriff was only with +me,” and he grinned at the humor of it, “we might +cut loose and heave lead. But since he ain’t, this +is where I don’t chip in–I’ll wait a while, for +they’ll shore come back.”</p> + +<p>The seven warriors went through almost the +same actions which their predecessors had gone +through and great excitement prevailed among +them. The leaders pointed to the very faint tracks +which led northward and debated vehemently. But +the two small stones which held the arrow securely +in its position against the possibility of the wind +shifting it could not be doubted, and after a few +minutes had passed they rode as bidden, leaving +one of their number on guard at the bowlder. Soon +the other six were lost to sight among the chaparrals +to the west and the guard sat stolidly under +the blazing sun.</p> + +<p>The dispatcher noted the position of a shadow +thrown on the sand by a cactus and laughed silently +as he fingered his rifle. He could not think out +the game. Try as he would, he could find no really +good excuse for the placing of the guard, although +many presented themselves, to be finally cast aside. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27'></a>27</span> +But the fact was enough, and when the moving +shadow gave assurance that nearly an hour had +passed since the departure of the guard’s companions, +the man with the grudge cautiously arose on +one knee.</p> + +<p>After examining the contents of his rifle, he +brought it slowly to his shoulder. A quick, calculating +glance told him that the range was slightly +over three hundred yards, and he altered the elevation +of the rear sights accordingly. After a pause, +during which he gauged the strength and velocity +of the northern wind, he dropped his cheek against +the walnut stock of the weapon. The echoless +report rang out flatly and a sudden gust of hot +wind whipped the ragged, gray smoke cloud into +the chaparral, where it lay close to the ground and +spread out like a miniature fog. As the smoke +cleared away a second cartridge, inserted deftly +and quickly, sent another cloud of smoke into the +chaparral and the marksman arose to his feet, +mechanically reloading his gun. The second shot +was for the guard’s horse, for it would be unnecessarily +perilous to risk its rejoining the departed +braves, which it very probably would do if allowed +to escape.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28'></a>28</span>Dropping his rifle into the hollow of his arm +he walked swiftly toward the fallen Indian, hoping +that there would be no more war parties, for he +had now made signs which the most stupid Apache +could not fail to note and understand. The dead +guard could be hidden, and by the use of his own +horse and rope he could drag the carcass of the +animal into the chaparral and out of sight. But +the trail which would be left in the loose sand +would be too deep and wide to be covered. He +had crossed the Rubicon, and must stand or fall +by the step.</p> + +<p>The Indian had fallen forward against the bowlder +and had slid down its side, landing on his head +and shoulders, in which grotesque position the rock +supported him. One glance assured the “cowman” +that his aim had been good, and another +told him that he had to fear the arrival of no more +war parties, for the arrow was gone. He was not +satisfied, however, until he had made a good search +for it, thinking that it might have been displaced +by the fall of the Apache. He lifted the body of +the dead warrior in his arms and flung it across the +apex of the bowlder, face up and balanced nicely, +the head pointing to the north. Then he looked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29'></a>29</span> +for the arrow on the sand where the body had +rested, but it was not to be found. A sardonic grin +flitted across his face as he secured the weapons of +the late guard, which were a heavy Colt’s revolver +and a late pattern Winchester repeater. Taking +the cartridges from his body, he stood up triumphant. +He now had what he needed to meet the +smaller body of Indians on their return, ten shots +in one rifle and a spare Colt’s.</p> + +<p>“One for my cavvieyeh!” he muttered savagely +as he thought of the loss of his horse herd. +“There’ll be more, too, before I get through, or +my name’s not”– he paused abruptly, hearing +hoofbeats made by a galloping horse over a stretch +of hard soil which lay to the east of him. Leaping +quickly behind the bowlder, he leveled his own +rifle across the body of the guard and peered intently +toward the east, wondering if the advancing +horseman would be the sheriff or another Apache. +The hoofbeats came rapidly nearer and another +courier turned the corner of the chaparral and +went no further. Again a second shot took care +of the horse and the marksman strode to his second +victim, from whose body and horse he took another +Winchester and Colt.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30'></a>30</span>“Now I am in for it!” he muttered as he looked +down at the warrior. “This is shore getting warm +and it’ll be a d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n sight warmer if his friends get +anxious about him and hunt him up.”</p> + +<p>Glancing around the horizon and seeing no signs +of an interruption, he slung the body across his +shoulders and staggered with it to the bowlder, +where he heaved and pushed it across the body of +the first Apache.</p> + +<p>“Might as well make a good showing and make +them mad, for I can’t very well hide you and the +cayuses–I ain’t no graveyard,” he said, stepping +back to look at his work. He felt no remorse, for +that was a sensation not yet awakened in his consciousness. +He was elated at his success, joyous in +catering to his love for fighting, for he would +rather die fighting than live the round of years +heavily monotonous with peace, and his only regret +was having won by ambush. But in this, he told +himself, there was need, for his hatred ordered him +to kill as many as he could, and in any way possible. +Knowing that he was, single-handed, attempting +to outwit wily chiefs and that he had before him a +carnival of fighting, he would not have hesitated +to make use of traps if they were at hand and could +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31'></a>31</span> +be used. Perhaps it was old Geronimo whose plans +he was defeating and, if so, no precautions nor +means were unjustifiable and too mean to make +use of, for Geronimo was half-brother to the devil +and a genius for warfare and slaughter, with a +ferocity and cruelty cold-blooded and consummate.</p> + +<p>He had yet time to escape from his perilous position +and meet the sheriff, if that worthy had eluded +the first war party. But his elation had the upper +hand and his brute courage was now blind to caution. +He savagely decided that his matter with +the sheriff could wait and that he would take care +of the war parties first, since there was more honor +in fighting against odds. The two Winchesters +and his own Sharps, not to consider the four Colt’s, +gave him many shots without having to waste time +in reloading, and he drew assurance from the past +that he placed his shots quickly and with precision. +He could put up a magnificent fight in the chaparral, +shifting his position after each shot, and he +could hug the ground where the trunks of the vegetation +were thickest and would prove an effective +barrier against random shots. His wits were keen, +his legs nimble, his eyesight and accuracy above +doubt, and he had no cause to believe that his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32'></a>32</span> +strategy was inferior to that of his foes. There +would be no moon for two nights, and he could +escape in the darkness if hunger and thirst should +drive him out. Here he had struck, and here he +would strike again and again, and, if he fell, he +would leave behind him such a tale of fighting as +had seldom been known before; and it pleased his +vanity to think of the amazement the story would +call forth as it was recounted around the campfires +and across the bars of a country larger than +Europe. He did not realize that such a tale would +die if he died and would never be known. His was +the joy of a master of the game, a virile, fearless +fighting machine, a man who had never failed in +the playing of the many hands he had held in desperate +games with death. He was not going to +die; he was going to win and leave dying for others.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33'></a>33</span><a id='link_3'></a>CHAPTER III<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE SHERIFF FINDS THE ORPHAN</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>T</span>HE day dragged wearily along for the man in the chaparral, and when the +sun showed that it was still two hours from the meridian +he leaped to his feet, rifle in hand, and peered +intently to the west, where he had seen a fast-riding +horseman flit between two chaparrals which +stood far down on the western end of the Cimarron +Trail. Without pausing, he made his way out of +cover and ran rapidly along the edge of the thicket +until he had gained its northwestern extremity, +where he plunged into it, unmindful of the cuts and +slashes from the interlocked thorns. Using the +rifle as a club, he hammered and pushed until he +was screened from the view of any one passing +along the trail, but where he could see all who +approached. As he turned and faced the west he +saw the horseman suddenly emerge from the shelter +of the last chaparral in his course and ride +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34'></a>34</span> +straight for the intersection of the trails, his horse +flattened to the earth by the speed it was making. +Waiting until the rider was within fifty yards of +him, he pushed his way out to the trail, the rifle +leaping to his shoulder as he stepped into the open. +The newcomer was looking back at half a dozen +Apaches who had burst into view by the chaparral +he had just quitted, and when he turned he was +stopped by a hail and the sight of an unwavering +rifle held by the man on foot.</p> + +<p>“A truce!” shouted The Orphan from behind +the sights, having an idea and wishing to share it.</p> + +<p>“Hell, yes!” cried the astonished sheriff in +reply, slowing down and mechanically following +the already running outlaw to the place where the +latter had spent the last few hours.</p> + +<p>By keeping close to the edge of the chaparral, +which receded from the trail, The Orphan had not +been seen by the Apaches, and as he turned into his +hiding place a yell reached his ears. His trophies +on the bowlder were not to be unmourned.</p> + +<p>As he wormed his way into the thicket, closely +followed by the sheriff, he tersely explained the +situation, and Shields, feeling somewhat under +obligation to the man who had refrained from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35'></a>35</span> +killing him, nodded and smiled in good nature. +The sheriff thought it was a fine joke and enthusiastically +slapped his enemy on the back to show his +appreciation, for the time forgetting that they very +probably would try to kill each other later on, after +the Apaches had been taken care of.</p> + +<p>As they reached a point which gave them a clear +view of the bowlder, The Orphan kicked his companion +on the shin, pointing to the Apaches +grouped around their dead.</p> + +<p>“It’s a little over three hundred, Sheriff,” he +said. “You shoot first and I’ll follow you, so +they’ll think you shot twice–there’s no use letting +them think that there’s two of us, that is, not yet.”</p> + +<p>“Good idea,” replied the sheriff, nodding and +throwing his rifle to his shoulder. “Right end for +me,” he said, calling his shot so as to be sure that +the same brave would not receive all the attention. +As he fired his companion covered the second warrior, +using one of his captured Winchesters, and +a second later the rifle spun flame. Both warriors +dropped and the remaining four hastily postponed +their mourning and tumbled helter skelter behind +the bowlder, the sheriff’s second shot becoming a +part of the last one to find cover.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36'></a>36</span>“Fine!” exulted the sheriff, delighted at the +score. “Best game I ever took a hand in, d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>-d +if it ain’t! We’ll have them guessing so hard that +they’ll get brain fever.”</p> + +<p>“Three shots in as many seconds will make +them think that they are facing a Winchester in +the hands of a crack shot,” remarked The Orphan, +smiling with pleasure at the sheriff’s appreciation. +“They’ll think that if they can back off from the +bowlder and keep it between them and you that +they can get out of range in a few hundred yards +more. That is where I come in again. You sling +a little lead to let them know that you haven’t +moved a whole lot, but stop in a couple of minutes, +while I go down the line a ways. The chaparral +sweeps to the north quite a little, and mebby I can +drop a slug behind their fort from down there. +That’ll make them think you are a jack rabbit at +covering ground and will bother them. If they +rush, which they won’t after tasting that kind of +shooting, you whistle good and loud and we’ll make +them plumb disgusted. I’ll take a Winchester +along with me, so they won’t have any cause to +suspect that you are an arsenal. So long.”</p> + +<p>The sheriff glanced up as his companion departed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37'></a>37</span> +and was pleased at the outlaw’s command of the situation. +He had a good chance to wipe out the man, +but that he would not do, for The Orphan trusted +him, and Shields was one who respected a thing +like that.</p> + +<p>The outlaw finally stopped about a hundred +yards down the trail and looked out, using his +glasses. A brown shoulder showed under the overhanging +side of the bowlder and he smiled, readjusting +the sights on the Winchester as he waited. +Soon the shoulder raised from the ground and +pushed out farther into sight. Then a poll of +black hair showed itself and slowly raised. The +Orphan took deliberate aim and pulled the trigger. +The head dropped to the sand and the shoulder +heaved convulsively once or twice and then lay +quiet. Leaping up, the marksman hastened back +to the side of the sheriff, who did not trouble himself +to look up.</p> + +<p>“I got him, Sheriff,” he said. “Work up to +the other end and I’ll go back to where I came +from. They have got all the fighting they have +any use for and will be backing away purty soon +now. The range from the point where I held you +is some closer than it is from here, so you ought +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38'></a>38</span> +to get in a shot when they get far enough +back.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” pleasantly responded Shields, vigorously +attacking the thorns as he began his journey +to the western end of the thicket. “Ouch!” +he exclaimed as he felt the pricks. Then he +stopped and slowly turned and saw The Orphan +smiling at him, and grinned:</p> + +<p>“Say,” he began, “why can’t I go around?” he +asked, indicating with a sweep of his arm the +southern edge of the chaparral, and intimating that +it would be far more pleasant to skirt the thorns +than to buck against them. “These d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––––</span>d thorns +ain’t no joke!” he added emphatically.</p> + +<p>The outlaw’s smile enlarged and he glanced +quickly at the bowlder to see that all was as it +should be.</p> + +<p>“You can go around in one day afoot,” he +replied. “By that time they”–pointing to the +Apaches–“will have made a day’s journey on +cayuses. And we simply mustn’t let them get the +best of us that way.”</p> + +<p>Shields grinned and turned half-way around +again: “It’s a whole lot dry out here,” he said, +“and my canteen is on my cayuse.”</p> + +<p>“Here, pardner,” replied The Orphan, holding +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39'></a>39</span> +out his canteen and watching the effect of the familiarity. +“Seven swallows is the dose.”</p> + +<p>The sheriff faced him, took the vessel, counted +seven swallows and returned it.</p> + +<p>“I’m some moist now,” he remarked, as he +returned to the thorns. “It’s too d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––––</span>n bad +you’re bad,” he grumbled. “You’d make a blamed +good cow-puncher.”</p> + +<p>The Orphan, still smiling, placed his hands on +hips and watched the rapidly disappearing arm of +the law.</p> + +<p>“He’s all right–too bad he’ll make me shoot +him,” he soliloquized, turning toward his post. As +he crawled through a particularly badly matted bit +of chaparral he stopped to release himself and +laughed outright. “How in thunder did he get so +far west? My trail was as plain as day, too.” +When he had reached his destination and had settled +down to watch the bowlder he laughed again +and muttered: “Mebby he figured it out that I was +doubling back and was laying for me to show up. +And that’s just the way I would have gone, too. +He ain’t any fool, all right.”</p> + +<p>He thought of the sheriff at the far end of the +chaparral and of the repeater he carried, and an +inexplicable impulse of generosity surged over him. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40'></a>40</span> +The sheriff would be pleased to do the rest himself, +he thought, and the thought was father to the act. +He picked up the Winchester he had brought with +him and fired at the bowlder, only wishing to let +the Apaches know his position so that they would +think the way clear to the northwest, and so innocently +give the sheriff a shot at them as they +retreated. Dropping the Winchester he took up +his Sharps, his pet rifle, with which he had done +wonderful shooting, and arose to one knee, supporting +his left elbow on the other; between the fingers +of his left hand he held a cartridge in order that +no time should be lost in reloading. The range +was now five hundred yards, and when The Orphan +knew the exact range he swore with rage if he +missed.</p> + +<p>His shot had the effect he hoped it would have, +for suddenly there was movement behind the +bowlder. A pony’s hip showed for an instant and +then leaped from sight as the outlaw reloaded. A +cloud of dust arose to the northwest of and behind +the bowlder, and a series of close reports sounded +from the direction of the sheriff. The Orphan +leaped to his feet and dashed out on the plain to +where his sight would not be obstructed and saw +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41'></a>41</span> +an Apache, who hung down on the far side of his +horse, sweep northward and gallop along the northern +trail. He fired, but the range was too great, +and the warrior soon dropped from sight over the +range of hills. As The Orphan made his way +toward the bowlder the sheriff emerged from his +shelter and pointed to the west. A pony lay on +its side and not far away was the huddled body of +its rider.</p> + +<p>As they neared each other the outlaw noticed +something peculiar about the sheriff’s ear, and his +look of inquiry was rewarded. “Stung,” remarked +Shields, grinning apologetically. “Just as I shot,” +he added in explanation of the Apache’s escape. +“Wonder what my wife’ll say?” he mused, nursing +the swelling.</p> + +<p>The Orphan’s eyes opened a trifle at the sheriff’s +last words, and he thought of the war party he had +sent north. His decision was immediate: no married +man had any business to run risks, and he was +glad that he refrained from shooting on sight.</p> + +<p>“Sheriff, you vamoose. Clear out now, while +you have the chance. Ride west for an hour, and +then strike north for Ford’s Station. That buck +that got away is due to run into twenty-seven of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42'></a>42</span> +his friends and relatives that I sent north to meet +you. And they won’t waste any time in getting +back, neither.”</p> + +<p>Shields felt of his ear and laughed softly. He +had a sudden, strong liking for his humorous, +clever enemy, for he recognized qualities which he +had always held in high esteem. While he had +waited in the chaparral for the Apaches to break +cover he had wondered if the Indians which The +Orphan had sent north had been sent for the purpose +of meeting him, and now he had the answer. +Instead of embittering him against his companion, +it increased his respect for that individual’s strategy, +and he felt only admiration.</p> + +<p>“I saw your reception committee in time to +duck,” the sheriff said, laughing. “If they kept on +going as they were when I saw them they must +have crossed my trail about three hours later. +When they hit that it is a safe bet that at least some +of them took it up. So if it’s all the same to you, +I’ll leave both the north and the west alone and +take another route home. I have shot up all the +war-whoops I care about, so I am well satisfied.”</p> + +<p>He suddenly reached down toward his belt, and +then looked squarely into The Orphan’s gun, which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43'></a>43</span> +rested easily on that person’s hip. His hand kept +on, however, but more slowly and with but two +fingers extended, and disappeared into his chap’s +pocket, from which it slowly and gingerly brought +forth a package of tobacco and some rice paper. +The Orphan looked embarrassed for a second and +then laughed softly.</p> + +<p>“You’re a square man, Sheriff, but I wasn’t +sure,” he said in apology. “So long.”</p> + +<p>“That’s all right,” cried the sheriff heartily. +“I was a big fool to make a play like that!”</p> + +<p>The Orphan smiled and turned squarely around +and walked away in the direction of his horse. +Shields stared at his back and then rolled a cigarette +and grinned: “By George!” he ejaculated at +the confidence displayed by his companion, and he +slowly followed.</p> + +<p>After they had mounted in silence the sheriff suddenly +turned and looked his companion squarely in +the eyes and received a steady, frank look in return.</p> + +<p>“What the devil made you ventilate them sheep +herders that way?” he asked. “And go and drive +all of them sheep over the bank?”</p> + +<p>The Orphan frowned momentarily, but answered +without reserve.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44'></a>44</span>“Those sheep herders reckoned they’d get a +reputation!” he answered. “And they would have +gotten it, too, only I beat them on the draw. As +for the idiotic muttons, they went plumb loco at +the shooting and pushed each other over the bank. +To hell with the herders–they only got what they +was trying to hand me. But I’m a whole lot sorry +about the sheep, although I can’t say I’m dead stuck +on range-killers of any kind.”</p> + +<p>The sheriff reflectively eyed his companion’s gun +and remembered its celerity into getting into action, +which persuaded him that The Orphan was telling +the truth, and swept aside the last chance for fair +warfare between the two for the day.</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is too bad, all them innocent sheep +drowned that way,” he slowly replied. “But they +are shore awful skittish at times. Well, do we +part?” he asked, suddenly holding out his hand.</p> + +<p>“I reckon we do, Sheriff, and I’m blamed glad +to have met you,” replied the outlaw as he shook +hands with no uncertain grip. “Keep away from +them Apaches, and so long.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks, I will,” responded the arm of the +law. “And I’m glad to have met you, too. So +long!”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45'></a>45</span><a id='link_4'></a>CHAPTER IV<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE SECOND OFFENSE</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>B</span>ILL HOWLAND emerged from the six-by-six office of the F. S. and S. Stage +Company and strolled down the street to where his +Concord stood. He hitched up and, after examining +the harness, gained his seat, gathered up the +lines and yelled. There was a lurch and a rumble, +and Bill turned the corner on two wheels to the +gratification of sundry stray dogs, whose gratification +turned to yelps of surprise and pain as the +driver neatly flecked bits of hair from their bodies +with his sixteen foot “blacksnake.” Twice each +week Bill drove his Concord around the same corner +on the same two wheels and flecked bits of hair +from stray dogs with the same whip. He would +have been deeply grieved if the supply of new stray +dogs gave out, for no dogs were ever known to get +close enough to be skinned the second time; once +was enough, and those which had felt the sting of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46'></a>46</span> +Bill’s leather were content to stand across the street +and create the necessary excitement to urge the new +arrivals forward. The local wit is reported as +saying: “Dogs may come and dogs may go, but +Bill goes on forever,” which saying pleased Bill +greatly.</p> + +<p>As he threw the mail bag on the seat the sheriff +came up and watched him, his eyes a-twinkle with +humor.</p> + +<p>“Well, Sheriff, how’s the boy?” genially asked +Bill, who could talk all day on anything and two +days on nothing without fatigue.</p> + +<p>“All right, Bill, thank you,” the sheriff replied. +“I hope you are able to take something more than +liquid nourishment,” he added.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you trust me for that, Sheriff. When my +appetite gives out I’ll be ready to plant. I see your +ear is some smaller. Blamed funny how they do +swell sometimes,” remarked the driver, loosening +his collar.</p> + +<p>The sheriff knew what that action meant and hurried +to break the thread of the conversation.</p> + +<p>“New wheel?” he asked, eying what he knew to +be old.</p> + +<p>“Nope, painted, that’s all,” the driver replied, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47'></a>47</span> +grinning. “But she shore does look new, don’t +she? You see, Dick put in two new spokes yesterday, +and when I saw ’em I says, says I, ‘Dick, +that new wheel don’t look good thataway,’ says I. +‘It’ll look like a limp, them new spokes coming +’round all alone like,’ says I. So we paints it, but +we didn’t have time to paint the others, but they +won’t make much difference, anyhow. Funny how +a little paint will change things, now ain’t it? +Why, I can remember when<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>-”</p> + +<p>“Much mail nowadays?” interposed the sheriff +calmly.</p> + +<p>“Nope. Folks out here ain’t a-helpin’ Uncle +Sam much. Postmaster says he only sold ten +stamps this week. What he wants, as I told him, +is women. Then everybody’ll be sendin’ letters and +presents and things. Now, I knows what I’m +talking about, because<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>-”</p> + +<p>“The Apaches are out,” jabbed the sheriff, hopefully.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I heard that you had a soiree with them. +But they won’t get so far north as this. No, siree, +they won’t. They knows too much, Apaches do. +Ain’t they smart cusses, though? Now, there’s old +Geronimo–been raising the devil for years. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48'></a>48</span> +cavalry goes out for him regular, and shore thinks +he’s caught, but he ain’t. When he’s found he’s +home smoking his pipe and counting his wives, +which are shore numerous, they say. Now, I’ve +got a bully scheme for getting him, Sheriff<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“Hey, you,” came from the office. “Do you +reckon that train is going to tie up and wait for you, +hey? Do you think you are so d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d important +that they won’t pull out unless you’re on hand? +Why in h–l don’t you quit chinning and get +started?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you choke up!” cried Bill, clambering up +to his seat. “Who’s running this, anyhow!” he +grumbled under his breath. Then he took up the +reins and carefully sorted them, after which he +looked down at Shields, whose face wore a smile +of amusement.</p> + +<p>“Bill Howland ain’t none a-scared because a lot +of calamity howlers get a hunch. Not on your life! +I’ve reached the high C of rollicking progress too +many times to be airy scairt at rumors. Show me +the feather-dusters in war paint, and then I’ll take +some stock in raids. You get up a bet on me +Sheriff, make a little easy money. Back Bill Howland +to be right here in seventy-two hours, right +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49'></a>49</span> +side up and smiling, and you’ll win. You just bet +you’ll<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“Well, you won’t get here in a year unless you +starts, you pest! For God’s sake get a-going and +give the sheriff a rest!” came explosively from the +office, accompanied by a sound as if a chair had +dropped to its four legs. A tall, angular man stood +in the doorway and shook his fist at the huge cloud +of dust which rolled down the street, muttering +savagely. Bill Howland had started on his eighty-mile +trip to Sagetown.</p> + +<p>“Damnedest talker on two laigs,” asserted the +clerk. “He’ll drive me loco some day with his +eternal jabber, jabber. Why do you waste time +with him? Tell him to close his yap and go to +h–l. Beat him over the head, anything to shut +him up!”</p> + +<p>Shields smiled: “Oh, he can’t help it. He don’t +do anybody any harm.”</p> + +<p>The clerk shook his head in doubt and started to +return to his chair, and then stopped.</p> + +<p>“I hear you expect some women out purty soon,” +he suggested.</p> + +<p>“Yes. Sisters and a friend,” Shields replied +shortly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50'></a>50</span>“Ain’t you a little leary about letting ’em come +out here while the Apaches are out?”</p> + +<p>“Not very much–I’ll be on hand when they +arrive,” the sheriff assured him.</p> + +<p>“How soon are they due to land?”</p> + +<p>“Next trip if nothing hinders them.”</p> + +<p>“Jim Hawes is comin’ out next trip,” volunteered +the clerk.</p> + +<p>“Good,” responded the sheriff, turning to go. +“Every gun counts, and Jim is a good man.”</p> + +<p>“Say,” the agent was lonesome, “I heard down +at the Oasis last night that The Orphant was seen +out near the Cross Bar-8 yesterday. He ought to +get shot, d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n him! But that’s a purty big contract, +I reckon. They say he can shoot like the +very devil.”</p> + +<p>“They’re right, he can,” Shields replied. +“Everybody knows that.”</p> + +<p>“Charley seems to be in a hurry,” remarked the +agent, looking down the street at a cowboy, a friend +of the sheriff, who was coming at a dead gallop. +The sheriff looked and Charley waved his arm. As +he came within hailing distance he shouted:</p> + +<p>“The Orphan killed Jimmy Ford this morning +on Twenty Mile Trail! His pardner got away by +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51'></a>51</span> +shootin’ The Orphan’s horse and taking to the trail +through Little Arroyo. But he’s shot, just the +same, ’though not bad. The rest of the Cross +Bar-8 outfit are going out for him; they’ve been +out, but they can’t follow his trail.”</p> + +<p>“Hell!” cried the sheriff, running toward his +corral. “Wait!” he shouted over his shoulder as +he turned the corner. In less than five minutes he +was back again, and on his best horse, and following +the impatient cowboy, swung down the street +at a gallop in the direction of Twenty Mile Trail.</p> + +<p>As they left the town behind and swung through +the arroyo leading to the Limping Water, through +which the stage route lay, Charley began to speak +again:</p> + +<p>“Jimmy and Pete Carson were taking a rest in +the shade of the chaparral and playin’ old sledge, +when they looked up and saw The Orphan looking +down at them. They’re rather easy-going, and so +they asked him to take a hand. He said he would, +and got off his cayuse and sat down with them. +Jimmy started a new deal, but The Orphan objected +to old sledge and wanted poker, at the same time +throwing a bag of dust down in front of him. +Jimmy looked at Pete, who nodded, and put his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52'></a>52</span> +wealth in front of him. Well, they played along +for a while, and The Orphan began to have great +luck. When he had won five straight jack pots it +was more than Jimmy could stand, him being young +and hasty. He saw his new Cheyenne saddle, what +he was going to buy, getting further away all the +time, and he yelled ‘Cheat!’ grabbing for his gun, +what was plumb crazy for him to do.</p> + +<p>“The Orphan fired from his hip quick as a wink, +and Jimmy fell back just as Pete drew. The +Orphan swung on him and ordered him to drop his +gun, which same Pete did, being sick at the stomach +at Jimmy’s passing. Then The Orphan told him +to take his dirty money and his cheap life and go +back to his mamma. Pete didn’t stop none to argue, +but mounted and rode away. But the fool wasn’t +satisfied at having a whole skin after a run-in with +The Orphan, and when he got off about four hundred +yards and right on the edge of Little Arroyo, +where he could get cover in one jump, he up and let +drive, killing The Orphan’s horse. Pete got two +holes in his shoulder before he could get out of +sight, and he remembered that his shot had hardly +left his gun before he had ’em, too. Pete says he +wonders how in h–l The Orphan could shoot +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53'></a>53</span> +twice so quick, when his gun’s a Sharp’s single +shot.”</p> + +<p>Shields was pleased with the knowledge that it +was not a plain murder this time, and fell to wondering +if the other killings in which The Orphan +had figured had not in a measure been justified. +Hearsay cried “Murderer,” but his own personal +experience denied the term. Did not The Orphan +know that Shields was after him, and that the +sheriff was no man to be taken lightly when he +had shown mercy near the big bowlder? The outlaw +must be fair and square, reasoned the sheriff, +else he would not have looked for those qualities +in another, and least of all in an enemy. The outlaw +had given him plenty of chances to kill and had +thought nothing of it, time and time again turning +his back without hesitation. True, The Orphan had +covered him when his hand had streaked for his +tobacco; but the sheriff would have done the same, +because the movement was decidedly hostile, and he +had been fortunate in not having paid dearly for +his rash action. The Orphan had taken a chance +when he refrained from pulling the trigger.</p> + +<p>Charley continued: “Jimmy’s outfit swear they’ll +have a lynchin’ bee to square things for the Kid. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54'></a>54</span> +They are plumb crazy about it. Jimmy was a whole +lot liked by them, and the foreman is going to give +them a week off with no questions asked. They +are getting things ready now.”</p> + +<p>The sheriff turned to his companion, his hazel +eyes aflame with anger at this threat of lynching +when he had given plain warning that such lawlessness +would not for one minute be tolerated by +him.</p> + +<p>“We’ll call on the Cross Bar-8 first, Charley, +and find out when this lynching bee is due to come +off,” he said, turning toward the northwest. Charley +looked surprised at the sudden change in the +plans, but followed without comment, secretly glad +that trouble was in store for the ranch he had no +use for.</p> + +<p>After an hour of fast riding they rode up to the +corral of the Cross Bar-8, and Shields, seeing a +cowboy busily engaged in cleaning a rifle, asked for +Sneed, at the same time making a mental note of +the preparations which were going on about him.</p> + +<p>The foreman, as if in answer to the sheriff’s +words, walked into sight around the corral wall +and stepped forward eagerly when he saw who the +caller was.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55'></a>55</span>“I see that you know all about it, Sheriff,” he +began, hastily. “I’ve just told the boys that they +can go out for him,” he continued. “They’re getting +ready now, and will soon be on his trail.”</p> + +<p>“Yes?” coldly inquired the sheriff.</p> + +<p>“They’ll get him if you don’t,” assured the foreman, +who had about as much tact as a mule.</p> + +<p>“I’ll shoot the first man who tries it,” the sheriff +said, as he flecked a bit of dust from his arm.</p> + +<p>“What!” cried Sneed in astonishment. “By +God, Sheriff, that’s a d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d hard assertion to +make!”</p> + +<p>“And I hold <i>you</i> responsible,” continued the +sheriff, leaning forward as if to give weight to his +words.</p> + +<p>The cowboy stopped cleaning his rifle and stood +up, covering the sheriff, a sneer on his face and +anger in his eyes.</p> + +<p>“If you’re a-scared, we ain’t, by God!” he cried. +“The Orphan has got away too many times +already, and here is where he gets stopped for good! +When we gets through with him he won’t shoot no +more friends of ourn, nor nobody else’s!”</p> + +<p>Shields looked him squarely in the eyes: “If you +don’t drop that gun I’ll drop you, Bucknell,” he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56'></a>56</span> +said pleasantly, and his eyes proclaimed that he +meant what he said.</p> + +<p>Sneed sprang forward and knocked the gun aside; +“You d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n fool!” he cried. “You ornery, +silly fool! Get back to the bunk house or I’ll make +you wish you had never seen that gun! Go on, get +the h–l out of here before you join Jimmy!”</p> + +<p>Then the foreman turned to Shields, feeling that +he had lost much through the rashness of his man.</p> + +<p>“Don’t pay any attention to that crazy yearling, +Sheriff,” he said earnestly. “He’s only feeling his +oats. But we only wanted to round him up,” he +continued on the main topic. “We meant to turn +him over to you after we’d got him. He’s a +blasted, thieving, murdering dog, that’s what he is, +and he oughtn’t get away this time!”</p> + +<p>“You keep out of this, and keep your men out +of it, too,” responded Shields, turning away. “I +mean what I say. Jimmy started the mess and got +the worst of it. I’ll get The Orphan, or nobody +will. As long as I’m sheriff of this county I’ll take +care of my job without any lynching parties. Come +on, Charley.”</p> + +<p>“Deputize some of my boys, Sheriff!” he begged. +“Let ’em think they’re doing something. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57'></a>57</span> +Orphan is a bad man to go after alone. The boys +are so mad that they’ll get him if they have to ride +through hell after him. Swear them in and let +them get him lawfully.”</p> + +<p>“Yes?” retorted Shields cynically. “And have +to shoot them to keep them from shooting him?”</p> + +<p>“By God, Sheriff,” cried Sneed, losing control +of his temper, “this is our fight, and we’re going to +see it through! We’ll get that cur, sheriff or no +sheriff, and when we do, he’ll stretch rope! And +anybody who tries to stop us will get hurt! I +ain’t making any threats, Sheriff; only telling plain +facts, that’s all.”</p> + +<p>“Then I’ll be a wreck,” responded Shields, still +smiling. “For I’ll stop it, even if I have to shoot +you first, which are also plain facts.”</p> + +<p>Sneed’s men had been coming up while they +talked and were freely voicing their opinions of +sheriffs. Sneed stepped close to the peace officer +and laughed, his face flushed with foolish elation +at his strength.</p> + +<p>“Do you see ’em?” he asked, ironically, indicating +his men by a sweep of his arm. “Do you +think you could shoot me?”</p> + +<p>The reply was instantaneous. The last word +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58'></a>58</span> +had hardly left his lips before he peered blankly +into the cold, unreasoning muzzle of a Colt, and +the sheriff’s voice softly laughed up above him. +The cowboys stood as if turned to stone, not daring +to risk their foreman’s life by a move, for they did +not understand the sheriff’s methods of arguments, +never having become thoroughly acquainted with +him.</p> + +<p>“You know me better now, Sneed,” Shields +remarked quietly as he slipped his Colt into its +holster. “I’m running the law end of the game +and I’ll keep right on running it as I d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d please +while I’m called sheriff, understand?”</p> + +<p>Sneed was a brave man, and he thoroughly appreciated +the clean-cut courage which had directed +the sheriff’s act, and he knew, then, that Shields +would keep his word. He involuntarily stepped +back and intently regarded the face above him, +seeing a not unpleasant countenance, although it +was tanned by the suns and beaten by the weather +of fifty years. The hazel eyes twinkled and the thin +lips twitched in that quiet humor for which the man +was famed; yet underlying the humor was stern, +unyielding determination.</p> + +<p>“You’re shore nervy, Sheriff,” at length remarked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59'></a>59</span> +the foreman. “The boys are loco, but I’ll +try to hold them.”</p> + +<p>“You’ll hold them, or bury them,” responded +the sheriff, and turning to his companion he said: +“Now I’m with you, Charley. So long, Sneed,” +he pleasantly called over his shoulder as if there +had been no unpleasant disagreement.</p> + +<p>“So long, Sheriff,” replied the foreman, looking +after the departing pair and hardly free from his +astonishment. Then he turned to his men: “You +heard what he said, and you saw what he did. +You keep out of this, or I’ll make you d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d +sorry, if he don’t. If The Orphan comes your way, +all right and good. But you let his trail religiously +alone, do you hear?”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60'></a>60</span><a id='link_5'></a>CHAPTER V<br /><span class='h2fs'>BILL JUSTIFIES HIS CREATION</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>B</span>ILL HOWLAND careened along the stage route, rapidly leaving Ford’s +Station in his rear. He rolled through the arroyo on +alternate pairs of wheels, splashed through the +Limping Water, leaving it roiled and muddy, and +shot up the opposite bank with a rush. Before him +was a stretch of a dozen miles, level as a billiard +table, and then the route traversed a country rocky +and uneven and wound through cuts and defiles and +around rocky buttes of strange formation. This +continued for ten miles, and the last defile cut +through a ridge of rock, called the Backbone, which +ranged in height from twenty to forty feet, smooth, +unbroken and perpendicular on its eastern face. +This ridge wound and twisted from the big chaparral +twenty miles below the defile to a branch of the +Limping Water, fifteen miles above. And in all +the thirty-five miles there was but a single opening, +the one used by Bill and the stage.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61'></a>61</span>In crossing the level plain Bill could see for miles +to either side of him, but when once in the rough +country his view was restricted to yards, and more +often to feet. It was here that he expected trouble +if at all, and he usually went through it with a +speed which was reckless, to say the least.</p> + +<p>He had just dismissed the possibility of meeting +with Apaches as he turned into the last long defile, +which he was pleased to call a cañon. As he made +the first turn he nearly fell from his seat in astonishment +at what he saw. Squarely in the center of +the trail ahead of him was a horseman, who rode +the horse which had formerly belonged to Jimmy +of the Cross Bar-8, and across the cut lay a heavy +piece of timber, one of the dead trees which were +found occasionally at that altitude, and it effectively +barred the passing of the stage. The horseman +wore his sombrero far back on his head and a rifle +lay across his saddle, while two repeating Winchesters +were slung on either side of his horse. One +startled look revealed the worst to the driver–The +Orphan, the terrible Orphan faced him!</p> + +<p>“Don’t choke–I’m not going to eat you,” +assured the horseman with a smile. “But I’m +going to smoke half of your tobacco–and you can +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62'></a>62</span> +bring me a half pound when you come back from +Sagetown. Just throw it up yonder,” pointing to +a rocky ledge, “and keep going right ahead.”</p> + +<p>Bill looked very much relieved, and hastily fumbled +in his hip pocket, which was a most suicidal +thing to do in a hurry; but The Orphan didn’t even +move at the play, having judged the man before +him and having faith in his judgment. The hand +came out again with a pouch of tobacco, which its +owner flung to the outlaw. After putting half of +it in his own pouch and enclosing a coin to pay for +his half pound, The Orphan tossed it back again +and then moved the tree trunk until it fell to the +road, when he dismounted and rolled it aside.</p> + +<p>“You forget right now that you have seen me or +you’ll have heart disease some day in this place,” +warned the horseman, moving aside. Bill swore +earnestly that at times his memory was too short +to even remember his own name, and he enthusiastically +lashed his cayuse sextet. As he swung out +on the plain again he glanced furtively over his +shoulder and breathed a deep breath of relief when +he found that the outlaw was not in sight. He +then tied a knot in his handkerchief so as to be +sure to remember to get a half-pound package of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63'></a>63</span> +tobacco. A new responsibility, and one which he +had never borne before, weighed upon him. He +must keep silent–and what a rich subject for endless +conversations! Talking material which would +last him for years must be sealed tightly within his +memory on penalty of death if he failed to keep it +secret.</p> + +<p>After an uneventful trip across the open plain, +which passed so rapidly because of his intent +thoughts that he hardly realized it, he ripped into +Sagetown with a burst of speed and flung the mail +bag at the station agent, after which he hastened to +float the dust down his throat.</p> + +<p>When he met his Sagetown friends he had fairly +to choke down his secret, and his aching desire to +create a sensation pained and worried him.</p> + +<p>“You made her faster than usual, Bill,” remarked +the bartender casually. “Yore half-an-hour +ahead of time,” he added in a congratulatory +tone as he placed a bottle and glass before the new +arrival.</p> + +<p>“Yes, and I had to stop, too,” Bill replied, and +then hastily gulped down his liquor to save himself.</p> + +<p>“That so?” asked old Pop Westley, an habitué +of the saloon. Pop Westley had fought through +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64'></a>64</span> +the Civil War and never forgot to tell of his experiences, +which must have been unusually numerous, +even for four years of hard campaigning, if one +may judge from the fact that he never had to repeat, +and yet used them as his <i>coup d’état</i> in many conversational +bouts. “What was it, Injuns?” he +asked, winking at the bartender as if in prophecy +as to what the driver would choose for his next lie.</p> + +<p>“Oh, no,” replied Bill, groping for an idea to +get him out of trouble. “Nope, just had to lose +twenty minutes rollin’ rocks out of the cañon–they +must have been a little landslide since I went +through her the last time. Some of ’em was purty +big, too.”</p> + +<p>“I thought you might a had to kill some Injuns, +like you did when they broke out four years ago,” +responded the bartender gravely. “Tell us about +that time you licked them dozen mad Apache warriors, +Bill,” he requested. “That was a blamed +good scrap from what I can remember.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’ve told you about that scrap so much +I’m ashamed to tell it again,” replied the driver, +wishing that he could remember just what he had +said about it, and sorry that his memory was so +inferior to his imagination.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65'></a>65</span>“Bet you get scalped goin’ back,” pleasantly +remarked Johnny Sands, who had not fought in the +Civil War, but who often ferociously wished he had +when old Pop Westley was telling of how Mead +took Vicksburg, or some other such bit of history. +Pop must have been connected to a flying regiment, +for he had fought under every general on the Union +side.</p> + +<p>“You’re on for the drinks, Johnny,” answered +Bill promptly, feeling that it would be a double joy +to win. “The war-whoops never lived who could +scalp Bill Howland, and don’t forget it, neither,” +he boastfully averred as he made for the door, very +anxious to get away from that awful gnawing temptation +to open their eyes wide about his recent experience.</p> + +<p>“Then The Orphan will get you, shore,” came +from Pop Westley. Bill jumped and slammed the +door so hard that it shook the building.</p> + +<p>He saw that his sextet was being properly fed +and watered for the return trip, which would not +take place until the next day. But a trifle like +twenty-four hours had no effect on Bill under his +present stress of excitement, and he fooled about +the coach as if it was his dearest possession, inspecting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66'></a>66</span> +the king-bolt, running-gear and whiffletrees with +anxious eyes. He wanted no break-down, because +the Apaches <i>might</i> be farther north than was their +custom. That done he took his rifle apart and thoroughly +cleaned and oiled it, seeing that the magazine +was full to the end. Then he had his supper +and went straight therefrom to bed, not daring to +again meet his friends for fear of breaking his +promise to The Orphan.</p> + +<p>At dawn he drew up beside the small station and +waited for the arrival of the train, which even then +was a speck at the meeting place of the rails on the +horizon.</p> + +<p>The station agent sauntered over to him and +grinned.</p> + +<p>“I guess I will get that telegraph line after all, +Bill,” he remarked happily. “I heard that the division +superintendent wanted to get word to me in a +hurry the other day, and raised the devil when he +couldn’t. I’ve been fighting for a wire to civilization +for three years, and now I reckon she’ll come.”</p> + +<p>“I always said you ought to have a telegraph +line out here,” Bill replied. “Suppose that train +should run off the track some day, what would +they do, hey?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67'></a>67</span>“Huh, that train never goes fast enough to run +off of anything,” retorted the station agent. “She’d +stop dead if she hit a coyote–by gosh! Here she +comes now! What do you think of that, eh? +Half-an-hour ahead of time, too! Must be trying +to hit up a better average than she’s had for the +last year. She’s usually due three hours late,” he +added in bewilderment. “She owes the world +about a month–must have left the day before by +mistake.”</p> + +<p>“Johnny Sands says he raced her once for ten +miles, and beat it a mile,” replied Bill, crossing his +legs and yawning. Then he began one of his endless +talks, and the agent hastily departed and left +him to himself.</p> + +<p>When the train finally stopped at its destination, +after running past the station and having to back +to the platform, three women alighted and looked +around. Seeing the stage, they ordered their baggage +transferred to it and gave Bill a shock by their +appearance.</p> + +<p>“Is this the stage which runs to Ford’s Station?” +the eldest asked of Bill.</p> + +<p>Bill fumbled at his sombrero and tore it from his +head as he replied.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68'></a>68</span>“Yes, sir, er–ma’am!” he said, confusedly. +“Are you Sheriff’s sister, ma’am?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she answered. “Why do you ask? Has +anything happened to him in this awful country?” +she asked in alarm.</p> + +<p>“No, ma’am, not yet,” responded Bill in confusion. +“He just didn’t expect you ’til the next train, +ma’am, that’s all. He was going to meet you then.”</p> + +<p>“Now, <i>isn’t</i> that just like a man?” she asked her +companions. “I distinctly remember that I wrote +him I would come on the twenty-fourth. How +stupid of him!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, ma’am, you did,” interposed Bill, eagerly. +“But this is only the twenty-first, ma’am.”</p> + +<p>She refused to notice the correction and waved +her hand toward the coach.</p> + +<p>“Get in, dears,” she said. “I <i>do</i> so hope it +isn’t dirty and uncomfortable, and we have so far +to go in it, too. Thirty miles–think of it!”</p> + +<p>Bill thought of it, but refrained from offering +correction. If Shields had said it was thirty miles +when he knew it was eighty that was Shields’ affair, +and he didn’t care to have any unpleasantness. He +had offered correction about the date, and that was +enough for him. Clambering down heavily he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69'></a>69</span> +opened the side door of the vehicle and then helped +the station agent put the trunks and valises and hat +boxes on the hanging shelf behind the coach and +saw that they were lashed securely into place. Then +he threw the mail bag upon his seat, climbed after +it and started on his journey with a whoop and +rush, for this trip was to be a record-breaker. +Shields had said it was thirty miles, and it behove +the driver to make it seem as short as possible.</p> + +<p>The unexpected arrival of the women had driven +everything else from his mind, even The Orphan, +and after he had covered a mile he had a strong +desire to smoke. Giving his whip a jerk he threw +it along the top of the coach and slipped the handle +under his arm. Then he felt for his pouch, and +as his fingers closed upon it he suddenly stiffened +and gasped. He had forgotten The Orphan’s half +pound! Swearing earnestly and badly frightened +at the close call he had from incurring the anger of +a man like the outlaw, he pulled on the reins with a +suddenness which caused the sextet to lay back their +ears and indulge in a few heartfelt kicks. But the +darting whip kept peace and he swung around and +returned to town.</p> + +<p>As he drove past the station Mary Shields, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70'></a>70</span> +sheriff’s elder sister, poked her head out of the door +and called to him.</p> + +<p>“Driver!” she exclaimed. “Driver!”</p> + +<p>Bill craned his neck and looked down.</p> + +<p>“Yes, ma’am,” he replied anxiously.</p> + +<p>“Are we there already?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Why, no, ma’am, it’s ei–thirty miles yet,” he +responded as he sprang to the ground.</p> + +<p>“Then where are we, for goodness’ sake?”</p> + +<p>“Back in Sagetown, ma’am,” he hurriedly replied. +“I shore forgot something,” he added in explanation +of the return as he ran toward the saloon.</p> + +<p>She turned to her companions with a gesture of +despair:</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it awful,” she asked, “what a terrible +thing drinking is? A most detestable habit! Here +we are back to where we started from and just +because our driver must have a drink of nasty +liquor! Why, we would have been there by this +time. I will most assuredly speak to James about +this!”</p> + +<p>“Well, I suppose we may go on now!” she +exclaimed as Bill bolted into sight again, holding a +package firmly in his two hands. “I suppose he +feels quite capable of driving now.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71'></a>71</span>Bill, blissfully ignorant of the remarks he had +called forth, tossed the tobacco upon the mail bag +and climbed to his seat again. The long whip +hissed and cracked as he bellowed to the team, and +once more they started for Ford’s Station.</p> + +<p>The passengers had all they could do to keep +their seats because of the gymnastics of the erratic +stage. Bill, who had always found delight in seeing +how near he could come to missing things and +who was elated at the joy of getting over the worst +parts of the trail with speed, decided that this was +a rare and most auspicious occasion to show just +what he could do in the way of fancy driving. The +return to town had spoiled his chances for a record, +but he still could do some high-class work with the +reins. The weight of the baggage on the tail-board +bothered him until he discovered that it acted as a +tail to his Concord kite, and when he learned that +he joyously essayed feats which he had long +dreamed of doing. The result was fully appreciated +by the terrified passengers who, choking with +the dust which forced its way in to them, could only +hold fast to whatever came to their grasp and pray +that they would survive.</p> + +<p>As he passed a peculiarly formed clump of organ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72'></a>72</span> +cacti, which he regarded as being his half-way +mark, he happened to glance behind, and his face +blanched in a sudden fear which gripped his heart +in an icy grasp.</p> + +<p>He leaped to his feet, wrapping the reins about +his wrists, and the “blacksnake” coiled and writhed +and hissed. Its reports sounded like those of a +gun, and every time it straightened out a horse +lost a bit of hair and skin. Both of the leaders had +limp and torn ears, and a sudden terror surged +through the team, causing their eyes to dilate and +grow red. The driver’s voice, strong and full, +rang out in blood-curdling whoops, which ended in +the wailing howl of a coyote, wonderfully well imitated. +The combination of voice and whip was +too much, and the six horses, maddened by the +terrible sting of the lash and the frightful, haunting +howl, became frenzied and bolted.</p> + +<p>Braced firmly on the footboard, poised carefully +and with just the right tension on the reins, the +driver scanned the trail before him, avoiding as best +he could the rocks and deep ruts, and watching +alertly for a stumble. His sombrero had deserted +him and his long brown hair snapped behind him +in the wind. Bill was frightened, but not for himself +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73'></a>73</span> +alone. With all his bravado he was built of +good timber, and his one thought was for the +women under his care. He unconsciously prayed +that they might not be brought face to face with the +realization of what menaced them; that they would +not learn why the coach lurched so terribly; that +the trunk which obstructed the back window of the +coach would not shift and give them a sight of the +danger. Oh, that the running gear held! That +the king-bolt, new, thank God, proved the words +of the boasting blacksmith to be true! He soon +came to the beginning of a three-hundred-yard +stretch of perfect road and he hazarded a quick +backward glance. Instantly his eyes were to the +front again, but his brain retained the picture he +had seen, retained it perfectly and in wonderful +clearness. He saw that the Apaches were no longer +a mile away, but that they had gained upon him a +very little, so very little that only an eye accustomed +to gauging changing distances could have noticed +the difference. And he also saw that the group +was no longer compact, but that it was already +spreading out into the dreaded, deadly crescent, a +crescent with the best horses at the horns, which +would endeavor to sweep forward and past the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74'></a>74</span> +coach, drawing closer together until the circle was +complete, with the stage as the center.</p> + +<p>Another yell burst from him, and again and +again the whip writhed and hissed and cracked, and +a new burst of speed was the reward. Well it was +that the horses were the best and most enduring to +be found on the range. He was dependent on his +team, he and his passengers. He could not hope +to take up his rifle until the last desperate stand. +Oh, if he only had the sheriff, the cool, laughing, +accurate sheriff with him to lie against the seat and +shoot for his sisters! Already the bullets were +dropping behind him, but he did not know of it. +They dropped, as yet, many yards too short, and he +could not hear the flat reports. The wind which +roared and whistled past his ears spared him that.</p> + +<p>A stumble! But up again and without injury, +for a master hand held the reins, a hand as cunning +as the eyes were calculating. Could Bill’s scoffing +friends see him now their scoffing would freeze on +lips open in admiring astonishment. If he attained +nothing more in his life he was justifying his creation. +He was doing his best, and doing it wonderfully +well. Long since had fear left him. He was +now only a superb driver, an alert, quick-thinking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75'></a>75</span> +master of his chosen trade. He thrilled with a +peculiar elation, for was he not playing his hand +against death? A lone hand and with no hope of +a lucky draw. All he could hope for was that he +be not unlucky and lose the game because of the +weakness of a wheel, or the traces, or that new king-bolt; +that the splendid, ugly, terrorized units of his +sextet would last until he had gained the cañon, +where the stage would nearly block the narrow +opening, and where he could exchange reins for +rifle!</p> + +<p>Within the coach three women were miserably +huddled in a mass on the floor. Two would be +more proper, because the third, a slim girl of nineteen, +was temporarily out of her misery, having +fainted, which was a boon denied to her companions. +Thrown from side to side as if they were +straws in weight, they first crashed into one wall +and then into the other, buffeted from the edge of +the front seat to that of the rear one. Bruised +and bleeding and terrified, they dumbly prayed for +deliverance from the madman up above them.</p> + +<p>The driver’s eye caught sight of the turn, which +lay ten miles northeast of the cañon–then he had +passed it.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76'></a>76</span>“Only ten miles more, bronchs!” he shouted, +imploringly, beseechingly. “Hold it, boys! Hold +it, pets! Only ten miles more!” he repeated until +the left-hand leader lurched forward and lost its +footing. Another bit of masterly manipulation of +the reins saved it from going down, and again the +coyote yell rang out in all of its acute, quavering, +hair-raising mournfulness. The blacksnake again +and again mercilessly leaped and struck, and another +wonderful burst of speed rewarded him.</p> + +<p>His heart suddenly went out to his horses, as he +realized what speed they were making and had been +holding for so long a time, and he swore to treat +them better than they had ever known if they pulled +him safely to the mouth of the cañon.</p> + +<p>A second backward glance, forced from him because +of the awful uncertainty at his back, because +if it was the last thing he ever did he must look +behind him as a child looks back into the awful +darkness of the room, caused his face to be convulsed +with smiles, sudden and sincere. He shouted +madly in his joy at what he saw, dancing up and +down regardless of his perilous footing, bending his +knees with a recklessness almost criminal, as he +uncoiled the hissing blacksnake high up in the air. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77'></a>77</span> +Again and again the whistling, hissing length +of braided rawhide curled and straightened and +cracked, faster and faster until the reports almost +merged. He tossed his head and laughed wildly, +hysterically, and danced as only a man can dance +when eased of a terrible nervous tension; the rasping +of the icy, grasping fingers of Death along his +back suddenly ceased, and there came to him assurance +of life and vengeance. Turning again he +hurled the writhing length of his whip at the yelling +Apaches, snapping the rifle-like reports at their +faces, cursing them in shouted words; hot, joyous, +cynical, taunting words fresh from the soul of him, +throbbing with his hatred; venomous, contemptuous, +scathing, too heartfelt to be over-profane.</p> + +<p>“Come <i>on</i>, d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n you! Your slide to h–l +is greased <i>now!</i> Come on, you wolves! You +cheap, blind vultures! Come on! <i>Come on!!</i>” he +yelled, well nigh out of his senses from the reaction. +“Yes, yell! Yell, d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n you!” he shouted as +they replied to his taunts. “Yell! Shoot your +tin guns while you can, for you’ll soon be so full of +lead you’ll stop forever! <i>Come on!</i> <span class='sc'>Come on</span>!”</p> + +<p>They came. All their energies were bent toward +the grotesque figure that reviled them. They could +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78'></a>78</span> +not catch his words, but their eyes flashed at what +they could see. Dust arose in huge, low clouds +behind them, and they gained rapidly for a time, +but only for a time, for their mounts had covered +many miles in the last few days and were jaded and +without their usual strength because of insufficient +food. But they gained enough to drop their shots +on the coach, although accurate shooting at the pace +they were keeping was beyond their skill.</p> + +<p>Puffs of dust spurted from the plain in front of +the team and arose beside it, and a jagged splinter +of seasoned ash whizzed past the driver’s ear. A +long, gray furrow suddenly appeared in the end of +the seat and holes began to show in the woodwork +of the stage. One bullet, closer than the others, +almost tore the reins from the driver’s hands as it +hit the loose end of leather which flapped in the air. +Its jerk caused him to turn again and renew his +verbal cautery, tears in his eyes from the fervor of +his madness.</p> + +<p>“Hi-yi! Whoop-e-e!” he shouted at his straining, +steaming sextet. “Keep it up, bronchs! Hold +her for ten minutes more, boys! We’ll win! We’ll +win! We’ll laugh them into h–l yet! We’ll +dance on their painted faces! Keep her steady! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79'></a>79</span> +You’re all right, every d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d one of you! Hold +her steady! Whoop-e-e!”</p> + +<p>A new factor had drawn cards, and the new +factor could play his cards better than any two men +under that washed-out, faded blue sky.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80'></a>80</span><a id='link_6'></a>CHAPTER VI<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE ORPHAN OBEYS AN IMPULSE</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>W</span>HEN Sneed promised to try to restrain his men he spoke in good faith, +and when he discovered that half of them were +missing his anger began to rise. But he was helpless +now because they were beyond his reach, so he +could only hope that they would not meet the sheriff, +not only because of the displeasure of the peace officer, +but also because good cowboys were hard to +obtain, and he knew what such a meeting might +easily develop into.</p> + +<p>The foreman knew that Ford’s Station bore him +and his ranch no love and that if the sheriff should +meet with armed resistance and, possibly, mishap +at the hands of any members of the Cross Bar-8, +that trouble would be the tune for him and his men +to dance to. Angrily striding to and fro in front +of the bunk house he gave a profane and pointed +lecture to several of his men who stood near, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81'></a>81</span> +abashed at their foreman’s anger. He suddenly +stopped and looked toward the rocky stretch of land +and hurled epithets at what he feared might be taking +place in its defiles and among its rocks and +bowlders.</p> + +<p>“Fools!” he shouted, shaking his fist at the +Backbone. “Fools, to hunt a man like that on his +own ground, and in the way you’ll do it! You +can’t keep together for long, and as sure as you +separate, some of you will be missing to-night!”</p> + +<p>Had he been able, he would have seen six cowboys, +who were keeping close together as they +worked their way southward, exploring every +arroyo and examining every thicket and bowlder. +Their Colts were in their hands and their nerves +were tensed to the snapping point.</p> + +<p>They finally came to the stage road and, after a +brief consultation, plunged into it and scrambled up +the opposite bank, where they left one of their number +on guard while they continued on their search. +The guard found concealment behind a huge bowlder +which stood on the edge of the cañon above the +entrance. He lighted a cigarette, and the thin wisps +of pale blue smoke slowly made their way above +him, twisting and turning, halting for an instant, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82'></a>82</span> +and then speeding upward as straight as a rod. It +was strong tobacco and very aromatic, and when the +wind caught it up in filmy clouds and carried it +away it could be detected for many feet.</p> + +<p>Five minutes had passed since the searchers had +become lost to sight to the south when something +moved on the other side of the cañon and then +became instantly quiet as the smoke streamed up. +The guard was cleverly hidden from sight, but he +felt that he must smoke, for time passed slowly for +him. Again something moved, this time behind a +thin clump of mesquite. Gradually it took on the +outlines of a man, and he was intently watching +the tell-tale vapor, the odor of which had warned +him in time.</p> + +<p>Retreating, he was soon lost to sight, and a few +minutes later he peered through a thin thicket which +stood on the edge of the cañon wall. As he did so +the guard stuck his head out from the shelter of his +bowlder and glanced along the trail. Again seeking +his cover he finished his cigarette and lighted +another.</p> + +<p>“He won’t look again for a few minutes, the +fool,” muttered the other as he dropped into the +road and darted across it. After a bit of cautious +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83'></a>83</span> +climbing he gained the top of the cañon wall and +again became lost to sight.</p> + +<p>Still the smoke ascended fitfully from behind the +bowlder, and the prowler gradually drew near it, +at last gaining the side opposite the smoker. He +crouched and slowly crawled around it, his left +hand holding a Colt; his right, a lariat. As the +guard again turned to examine the lower end of +the cañon his eyes looked into a steady gun, and +while his wits were rallying to his aid the rope +leaped at him and neatly dropped over his shoulders, +pinning his arms to his side. It twitched and +a loop formed in it, running swiftly and almost horizontally. +It whipped over his head and tightened +about his throat, while another loop sped after it +and assisted in throttling the puncher. Then the +lariat twitched and whirled and loops ran along it +and fastened over the guard’s wrists, rapidly getting +shorter; and when it ceased, its wielder was +brought to the side of his trussed victim. The +bound man was turning purple in the face and neck +and his captor, hastily crowding the guard’s own +neck-kerchief into the open, gasping mouth, released +the throat clutch of the rawhide and then securely +fixed the gag into place.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84'></a>84</span>Roughly dragging his captive to a mass of débris +he tore it apart and dragged and pushed the man +into it, after which he pushed the rubbish back into +place and then ran to the bowlder, where he covered +all tracks. Picking up the puncher’s revolver +he took the cylinder from it and hurled it far out +on the plain, throwing the frame across the defile +into a tangled mass of mesquite. Looking carefully +about him, to be sure he had not overlooked +anything, he disappeared in the direction from +which he had come.</p> + +<p>He again appeared in the cañon, and ran swiftly +along it until he came to the tracks made by the +guard’s horse, which he followed into an arroyo +and where he found the animal hobbled. Loosening +the hobbles he threw them over the horse’s +neck and sprang into the saddle. He picked his +way carefully until he had reached the level plain, +when he cantered northward, keeping close to the +rock wall of the Backbone to avoid being seen by +the searchers. When he had put a dozen miles +behind him he turned abruptly to the east, soon +becoming lost to sight behind the scattered chaparrals.</p> + +<p>The Orphan, surmounting a rise, looked to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85'></a>85</span> +southwest and saw something which almost caused +his hair to rise, and raising hair was not the rule +with him, which latter is mentioned to give proper +emphasis to the seriousness of what he looked upon. +He leaped to the ground and saw that the cinches +were securely fastened, after which he vaulted back +into the saddle, and, instead of offering prayer for +success, sent up profanity at the possibility of +failure.</p> + +<p>Two miles to the southwest of him he saw six +horses flattened almost to earth in keeping the +speed they had attained and were holding. Back +of them lurched and rocked and heaved the sun-bleached +coach, dull gray and dusty, its tall driver +standing up to his work, hatless and with his arm +rapidly rising and falling as he sent the cruel whip +cruelly home. Behind the stage whipped the baggage +flap, a huge leathern apron for the protection +of luggage, standing out horizontally because of the +rush of wind caused by the speed of the coach. It +flapped defiantly at what so tenaciously pursued it. +A thousand yards to the rear, riding in crescent formation, +the horns now far apart and well ahead of +the center, were five arm- and weapon-waving +bronzed enthusiasts whose war paint could just be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86'></a>86</span> +discerned by The Orphan’s good eyes and field +glasses.</p> + +<p>As yet, the reason for the lifting hair has not +been disclosed, because The Orphan was proud in +his belief that he had few nerves and a dormant +sympathy, and this scene alone would not have +aroused much sympathy in his heart for the driver, +and neither would it have changed the malevolent +expression which disfigured his face, an expression +caused by the remembrance of six cowboys who had +searched for him as if he was a cowardly, cattle-killing +coyote. But the exuberant baggage-flap +revealed two trunks, three valises and a pile of +white cardboard boxes; and as if this was not +enough for a man adept at sign reading, the door of +the coach suddenly became unfastened and alternately +swung open and shut as the lurching of the +coach affected it. And through the intermittent +opening he could see a mass of gray and brown and +blue.</p> + +<p>The Orphan had spent ten years of his life battling +against the hardest kinds of odds, and his +brain had foresworn long methods of thinking and +had adopted short cuts to conclusions. His mental +processes were sharp, quick and acted instantly on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87'></a>87</span> +his nerves, often completing an action before he +became clearly conscious of its need. He forgot +the pleasant sheriff and the unpleasant, blundering +cowboys who, very probably, were now engaged in +wondering where their companion had gone; and +he forgot his determination to return and free that +puncher. He asked himself no questions as to why +or how, but simply sunk his spurs half an inch into +a horse that had peculiar and fixed ideas about their +use, and that now bucked, pitched and galloped +forward because its rider had suddenly decided +to save those gray and brown and blue dresses.</p> + +<p>The Apaches had passed the point immediately +south of him and were now more to the west, going +at right angles to the course he took. They were +so intent upon gaining yard upon yard that they +did not look to the side–their thoughts were centered +on the tall, lanky man who stood up against +the sky and cursed them, and whose hat they had +passed miles back. As he turned and stole the +look at them which had so pleased him, they only +waved guns and wasted cartridges more recklessly, +yelling savagely.</p> + +<p>Down from the north charged a brown, a dirty +brown horse, and it was comparatively fresh. It +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88'></a>88</span> +gained steadily, silently, and its gains were measured +in yards to each minute it ran, since it was +coming at a sharp angle. Astride of it and lying +along its neck was a man whose spurs and quirt +urged it to its uttermost effort. Soon the man +straightened up in his saddle, the horse braced its +legs and slid to a stand as a rifle arose to the rider’s +shoulder, and at the shot the animal leaped forward +at its top speed. A puff of smoke flashed past +the marksman’s head to mingle with the dust cloud +in his wake, and the nearest brave, who was the last +in the crescent, dropped sprawlingly to the ground +and rolled rapidly several times. His horse, freed +of its burden, ran off at an angle and was soon left +behind. The excitement of the chase and the noise +of the hoofbeats of their own horses and of the +reports of their own rifles effectually lost the report +of the shot and soon another, and nearest, Apache +also plunged to the plain. This time the freed +horse shot ahead and ranged alongside the wearer +of the head-dress, who turned in his saddle and +looked back. His eyesight was good, but not good +enough to see the .50 caliber slug which passed +through his abdomen and tore the ear of another +warrior’s horse.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89'></a>89</span>The rider of the horse owning the mutilated ear +looked quickly backward, screamed a warning and +war-cry all in one and began to shoot rapidly. His +surprised companion followed suit as the coach +came to a stand, and another rifle, long silent, took +a hand in the dispute with a vim as if to make up +for lost time. The first warrior fell, shot through +by both rifles, and the other, emptying his magazine +at the new factor, who was very busily engaged +in extracting a jammed cartridge, wheeled his pony +about and fled toward the south, panic-stricken by +the accuracy of the newcomer and terrorized by the +awful execution. But the Apache’s last shot nearly +cleaned the sheriff’s slate, grazing The Orphan’s +temple and stunning him: a fraction of an inch +more to the right would have cheated the Cross +Bar-8 of any chance of revenge.</p> + +<p>Bill, still holding the rifle, leaped to the sand +and ran to where his rescuer lay huddled in the +dust of the plain.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got yore smoking,” he exclaimed breathlessly, +at last getting rid of his mental burden. +Then he stopped short, swore, and bent over the +figure, and grasping the body firmly by neck and +thigh, slung it over his shoulders and staggered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90'></a>90</span> +toward the coach, his progress slow and laborious +because of the deep sand and dust. As he neared +his objective he glanced up and saw that his passengers +had left the stage and were grouped +together on the plain like lambs lost in a lion +country.</p> + +<p>They were hysterical, and all talked at once, sobbing +and wringing their hands. But when they +noticed the driver stumbling toward them with the +body across his shoulders their tongues became suddenly +mute with a new fear. Up to then they had +thought only of their own woes and bruises, but +here, perhaps, was Death; here was the man who +had risked his life that they might live, and he +might have lost as they gained.</p> + +<p>They besieged Bill with tearful questions and +gave him no chance to reply. He staggered past +them and placed his burden in the scant shadow of +the coach, while they cried aloud at sight of the +blood-stained face, frozen in their tracks with fear +and horror. Bill, ignoring them, hastily climbed +with a wonderful celerity for him, to the high seat +and dropped to the ground with a canteen which he +had torn from its fastenings. Pouring its contents +over the upturned face he half emptied a pocket +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91'></a>91</span> +flask of whisky into The Orphan’s mouth and then +fell to chafing and rubbing with his calloused, dust-covered +hands, well knowing the nature of the +wound and that it had only stunned.</p> + +<p>Soon the eyelids quivered, fluttered and then flew +back and the cruel eyes stared unblinkingly into +those of the man above him, who swore in sudden +joy. Then, weak as he was and only by the aid +of an indomitable will, the wounded man bounded +to his feet and stood swaying slightly as one hand +reached out to the stage for support, the other instinctively +leaping to his Colt. He swayed still +more as he slowly turned his head and searched the +plain for foes, the Colt half drawn from its +holster.</p> + +<p>As soon as he had gained his feet and while he +was looking about him in a dazed way the women +began to talk again, excitedly, hysterically. They +gathered around this unshaven, blood-stained man +and tried to thank him for their lives, their voices +broken with sobs. He listened, vaguely conscious +of what they were trying to say, until his brain +cleared and made him capable of thought. Then +he ceased to sway and spread his feet far apart to +stand erect. His hand went to his head for the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92'></a>92</span> +sombrero which was not there, and he smiled as +he recalled how he had lost it.</p> + +<p>“Oh, how can we ever thank you!” cried the +sheriff’s eldest sister, choking back a nervous sob. +“How can we ever thank you for what you have +done! You saved our lives!” she cried, shuddering +at the danger now past. “You saved our +lives! You saved our lives!” she repeated excitedly, +clasping and unclasping her hands in her +agitation.</p> + +<p>“How can we ever thank you, how can we!” +cried the girl who had fainted when the chase had +begun. “It was splendid, splendid!” she cried, +swaying in her weakness. She was so white and +bruised and frail that The Orphan felt pity for +her and started to say something, but had no chance. +The three women monopolized the conversation +even to the exclusion of Bill, who suddenly felt +that his talking ability was only commonplace +after all.</p> + +<p>Blood trickled slowly down the outlaw’s face as +he smiled at them and tried to calm them, and the +younger sister, suddenly realizing the meaning of +what she had vaguely seen, turned to Bill with an +imperative gesture.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93'></a>93</span>“Bring me some water, driver, immediately,” +she commanded impatiently, and Bill hurried +around to the rear axle from which swung a small +keg of three gallons’ capacity. Quickly unsnapping +the chain from it he returned and pried out the +wooden plug, slowly turning the keg until water +began to flow through the hole and trickle down to +the sand. Miss Shields took a small handkerchief +from her waist and unfolded it, to be stopped by +Bill.</p> + +<p>“Don’t spoil that, miss!” he hastily exclaimed. +“Take one of mine. They ain’t worth much, and +besides, they’re a whole lot bigger.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, but this is better,” she replied, +smiling as she regarded the dusty neck-kerchief +which he eagerly held out to her. She wet the bit +of clean linen and Bill followed her as she stepped +to the side of the outlaw, holding the keg for her +and thinking that the sheriff was not the only thoroughbred +to bear the name of Shields. He turned +the keg for her as she needed water, and she bathed +the wound carefully, pushing back the long hair +which persisted in getting in her way, all the time +vehemently declining the eager offers of assistance +from her companions. The Orphan had involuntarily +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94'></a>94</span> +raised his hand to stop her, feeling foolish +at so much attention given to so trivial a wound +and not at all accustomed to such things, especially +from women with wonderful deep, black eyes.</p> + +<p>“Please do not bother me,” she commanded, +pushing his hand aside. “You can at least let me +do this little thing, when you have done so much, or +I shall think you selfish.”</p> + +<p>He stood as a bad boy stands when unexpectedly +rewarded for some good deed, uncomfortable because +of the ridiculous seriousness given to his gash, +and ashamed because he was glad of the attention. +He tried not to look at her, but somehow his eyes +would not stray from her face, her heavy mass of +black hair and her wonderful eyes.</p> + +<p>“You make me think that I’m really hurt,” he +feebly expostulated as he capitulated to her deft +hands. “Now, if it was a real wound, why it +might be all right. But, pshaw, all this fuss and +feathers about a scratch!”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” she cried, dropping the stained handkerchief +to the ground as she took another from her +dress, plastering his hair back with her free hand. +“I suppose you would rather have what you call a +real wound! You should be thankful that it is no +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95'></a>95</span> +worse! Why, just the tiniest bit more, and you +would have–” she shuddered as she thought of it +and turned quickly away and tore a strip of linen +from her skirt. Straightening up and facing him +again she ripped off the trimming and carefully +plucked the loose threads from it. Folding it into +a neat bandage she placed the handkerchief over +the wound after pushing back the rebellious hair +and bound it into place with the strip, deftly patting +it here and pushing it there until it suited her. +Then, drawing it tight, she unfastened the gold +breast-pin which she wore at her throat and pinned +the bandage into place, stepping back to regard her +work with satisfaction.</p> + +<p>“There!” she cried laughing delightedly. +“You look real well in a bandage! But I am +sorry there is need for one,” she said, sobering instantly. +“But, then, it could have been much +worse, very much worse, couldn’t it?” she asked, +smiling brightly.</p> + +<p>Before The Orphan could reply, Bill saw a break +in the conversation, or thought he did, and hastened +to say something, for he felt unnatural.</p> + +<p>“I got yore smokin’, Orphant!” he cried, clambering +up to his seat. “Leastawise, I had before +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96'></a>96</span> +them war-whoops–yep! Here she is, right side +up and fine and dandy!”</p> + +<p>Could he have seen the look which the outlaw +flashed at him he would have quailed with sudden +fear. Three gasps arose in chorus, and the women +drew back from the outlaw, fearful and shocked +and severe. But with the sheriff’s younger sister +it was only momentarily, for she quickly recovered +herself and the look of fear left her eyes. So this, +then, was the dreaded Orphan, the outlaw of whom +her brother had written! This young, sinewy, +good-looking man, who had swayed so unsteadily +on his feet, was the man the stories of whose outrages +had filled the pages of Eastern newspapers +and magazines! Could he possibly be guilty of the +murders ascribed to him? Was he capable of the +inhumanity which had made his name a synonym +of terror? As she wondered, torn by conflicting +thoughts, he looked at her unflinchingly, and his +thin lips wore a peculiar smile, cynical and yet +humorous.</p> + +<p>Bill leaped to the ground with the smoking tobacco +and, blissfully unconscious of what he had +done, continued unruffled.</p> + +<p>“That was d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n fine–begging the ladies’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97'></a>97</span> +pardon,” he cried. “Yes sir, it was plumb sumptious, +it shore was! And when I tell the sheriff how +you saved his sisters, he’ll be some tickled! You +just bet he will! And I’ll tell it right, too! Just +leave the telling of it to me. Lord, when I looked +back to see how far them war-whoops were from +my back hair, and saw you tearing along like you +was a shore enough express train, I just had to yell, +I was so tickled. It was just like I held a pair of +deuces in a big jack-pot and drew two more! My, +but didn’t I feel good! And, say–whenever you +run out of smoking again, you just flag Bill Howland’s +chariot: you can have all he’s got. That’s +straight, you bet! Bill Howland don’t forget a +turn like that, never.”</p> + +<p>The enthusiasm he looked for did not materialize +and he glanced from one to another as he realized +that something was up.</p> + +<p>“Come, dears, let us go,” said Mary Shields, +lifting her skirts and abruptly turning her back on +the outlaw. “We evidently have far to go, and we +have wasted <i>so</i> much time. Come, Grace,” she +said to her friend, stepping toward the coach.</p> + +<p>Bill stared and wondered how much time had +been wasted, since never before had he reached that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98'></a>98</span> +point in so short a time. He had made two miles +to every one at his regular speed.</p> + +<p>“Come, Helen!” came the command from the +elder, and with a trace of surprise and impatience.</p> + +<p>“Sister! Why, Mary, how can you be so +mean!” retorted the girl with the black eyes, angry +and indignant at the unkindness of the cut, her face +flushing at its injustice. Her spirit was up in arms +immediately and she deliberately walked to The +Orphan and impulsively held out her hand, her +sister’s words deciding the doubts in her mind in +the outlaw’s favor.</p> + +<p>“Forgive her!” she cried. “She doesn’t mean +to be rude! She is so very nervous, and this afternoon +has been too much for her. It was a man’s +act, a brave man’s act! And one which I will +always cherish, for I will never forget this day, +never, never!” she reiterated earnestly. “I don’t +care what they say about you, not a bit! I don’t +believe it, for you could not have done what you +have if you are as they paint you. I will not wait +for our driver to tell my brother about your splendid +act–he, at least, shall know you as you are, and +some day he will return it, too.”</p> + +<p>Then she looked from him to her hand: “Will +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99'></a>99</span> +you not shake hands with me? Show me that you +are not angry. Are you fair to me to class me as +an enemy, just because my brother is the sheriff?”</p> + +<p>He looked at her in wonderment and his face +softened as he took the hand.</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” he said simply. “You are kind, +and fair. I do not think of you as an enemy.”</p> + +<p>“Helen! Are you coming?” came from the +coach.</p> + +<p>He smiled at the words and then laughed bitterly, +recklessly, his shoulders unconsciously squaring. +There was no malice in his face, only a quizzical, +baffling cynicism.</p> + +<p>“Oh, it’s a shame!” she cried, her eyes growing +moist. She made a gesture of helplessness and +looked him full in the eyes. “Whatever you have +done in the past, you will give them no cause to +say such things in the future, will you? You will +leave it all behind you and get work, and not be +an outlaw any more, won’t you? You will prove +my faith in you, for I <i>have</i> faith in you, won’t you? +It will all be forgotten,” she added, as if her words +made it so. Then she leaned forward to readjust +the bandage. “There, now it’s all right–you +must not touch it again like that.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100'></a>100</span>“You are alone in your faith,” he replied bitterly, +not daring to look at her.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I reckon not,” muttered Bill, scowling at +the stage as if he would like to unhitch and leave +it there. Then seeing The Orphan glance at the +horse which was grazing contentedly, he went out +to capture the animal. “D<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d old hen, that’s +what she is!” he muttered fiercely. “I don’t care +if she is the sheriff’s sister, that’s just what she is! +Just a regular ingrowing disposition!”</p> + +<p>“You are kind, as kind as you are beautiful,” +The Orphan responded simply. “But you don’t +know.”</p> + +<p>She flushed at his words and then decided that +he spoke in simple sincerity.</p> + +<p>“I know that you are going to do differently,” +she replied as she extended her hand again. +“Good-by.”</p> + +<p>He bowed his head as he took it and flushed: +“Good-by.”</p> + +<p>She slowly turned and walked toward the coach, +where she was received by a chilling silence.</p> + +<p>Bill brought the horse to where The Orphan +stood lost in thought, unbuckled his cartridge belt +and wrapped it around the pommel of the saddle, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101'></a>101</span> +the heavy Colt still in the holster. Then he clambered +up for his rifle and tied it to the saddle skirt +by the thongs of leather which dangled therefrom. +Looking about him he espied the keg on the sand +and, driving home the plug, slung it behind the +cantle of the saddle where he fastend it by the straps +which held the outlaw’s “slicker.” Jamming the +package of tobacco into the pocket of the garment +he stepped back and grinned sheepishly at his generous +gifts. He turned abruptly and strode to the +outlaw and shoved out his hand.</p> + +<p>“There, pardner, shake!” he cried heartily. +“Yore the best man in the whole d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d cow country, +and I’ll tell ’em so, too, by God!”</p> + +<p>The outlaw came out of his reverie and looked +him searchingly in the face as he gripped the +outstretched hand with a grip which made the +driver wince.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be a fool, Bill,” he replied. “You’ll +get yourself disliked if you enthuse about me.” +Then he noticed the additions to his equipment and +frowned: “You better take those things, I can’t. +The spirit is enough.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you borrow them ’til you see me again,” +replied Bill. “You may need ’em,” he added as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102'></a>102</span> +he wheeled and walked to the coach. He climbed +to his seat and wrapped the lines about his hands, +cracking the whip as soon as he could, and the +coach lurched on its way to Ford’s Station, the +driver grunting about fool old maids who didn’t +know enough to be glad they were alive.</p> + +<p>The Orphan hesitated about the gifts and then +decided to take them for the time. He mounted +and rode past the coach door, keeping near to the +flank of the last horse, where he listened to Bill’s +endless talk.</p> + +<p>“How is it that you’ve got a Cross Bar-8 +cayuse?” Bill asked at length, too idiotically happy +to realize the significance of his question.</p> + +<p>The Orphan’s hand leaped suddenly and then +stopped and dropped to the pommel, and he looked +up at the driver.</p> + +<p>“Oh, one of their punchers and I sort of +swapped,” he laughingly replied, thinking of the +man under the débris. “Say, if I don’t get as far +as the cañon with you, just climb up above on the +left hand side near the entrance and release a fool +puncher that is covered up under a pile of rubbish, +will you? I came near forgetting him, and I don’t +want him to die in that way.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103'></a>103</span>As he spoke he saw a group of horsemen swing +over a rise and he knew them instinctively.</p> + +<p>“There’s the gang now–tell them, I’m off +for a ride,” he said, dropping back to the coach +door, where he raised his hand to his head and +bowed.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104'></a>104</span><a id='link_7'></a>CHAPTER VII<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE OUTFIT HUNTS FOR STRAYS</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>A</span>S the group of punchers and the stage neared each other Bill saw two +horsemen ride out into view beside a chaparral half a mile to +the northwest, and he recognized Shields and Charley, +who were loping forward as if to overtake the +cowboys, their approach noiseless because of the +deep sand. As the cowboys came nearer Bill recognized +them as being the five worst men of the +Cross Bar-8 outfit, and his loyalty to his new friend +was no stronger than his dislike for the newcomers. +They swept up at a canter and stopped abruptly +near the front wheel.</p> + +<p>“Who was <i>that?”</i> asked Larry Thompson impatiently, +with his gloved hand indicating the direction +taken by The Orphan.</p> + +<p>“Friend of mine,” replied Bill, who was diplomatically +pleasant. “Say,” he began, enthusing +for effect, “you should have turned up sooner–you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105'></a>105</span> +missed a regular circus! We was chased by +five Apaches, and my friend cleaned ’em up right, +he shore did! You should a seen it. I wouldn’t +a missed it for<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“Cheese it!” relentlessly continued Larry, interrupting +the threatened verbal deluge. “Don’t +be all day about it, Windy,” he cried; “who +is he?”</p> + +<p>“Why, a friend of mine, Tom Davis,” lied Bill. +“He just wiped out a bunch of Apaches, like I +was telling you. They was a-chasing me some +plentiful and things was getting real interesting +when he chipped in and took a hand from behind. +And he certainly cleaned ’em up brown, he shore +did! Say, I’ll bet you, even money, that he can +lick the sheriff, or even The Orphant! He’s a holy +terror on wheels, that’s what he is! Talk about +lightning on the shoot–and he can hit twice in +the same place, too, if he wants to, though there +ain’t no use of it when he gets there once. The +way he can heave lead is enough to make<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“Choke it, Bill, choke it!” testily ordered Curley +Smith, whose reputation was unsavory. “Tell +us why in h–l he hit th’ trail so all-fired hard. Is +yore friend some bashful?” he inquired ironically.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106'></a>106</span>“Well,” replied Bill, grinning exasperatingly, +“it all depends on how you looks at it. Women +say he is, men swear he ain’t; you can take your +choice. But they do say he ain’t no ladies’ man,” +he jabbed maliciously, well knowing that Curley +prided himself on being a “lady-killer.”</p> + +<p>“Th’ h–l he ain’t!” retorted Curley, with +a show of anger, preparing to argue, which would +take time; and Bill was trying to give the outlaw +a good start of them. “Th’ h–l he ain’t!” he +repeated, leaning aggressively forward. “Yu +keep yore opinions close to home, yu big-mouthed +coyote!”</p> + +<p>“Well, you asked me, didn’t you?” replied Bill. +“And I told you, didn’t I? He’s a good man all +around, and say, you should oughter hear him +sing! He’s a singer from Singersville, he is. Got +the finest voice this side of Chicago, that’s what.”</p> + +<p>“That’s <i>real</i> interesting, and <i>just</i> what we was +askin’ yu about,” replied Larry with withering +sarcasm. “An’ bein’ so, Windy, we’ll shore give +him all the music he wants to sing to before dark +if we gets him. Yore lying ability is real highfalutin’. +Now, suppose yu tell th’ truth before we +drag it outen yu–who is he?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107'></a>107</span>“You ought to know it by this time. Didn’t I +say his name is Tom Davis?” he replied, crossing +his legs, his face wearing a bored look. “How +many names do you think he’s got, anyhow? Ain’t +one enough?”</p> + +<p>“Look a-here!” cried Curley, pushing forward. +“Was that th’ d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d Orphant? Come on, now, +talk straight!”</p> + +<p>“Orphant!” ejaculated Bill in surprise. “Did +you say Orphant? Orphant nothing!” he responded. +“What in h–l do you think I’d be +lying about him for? Do I look easy? He ain’t +no friend of mine! Besides, I wouldn’t know him +if I saw him, never having seen that frisky gent. +Holy gee! is the Orphant loose in this country, out +here along my route!” he cried, simulating alarm.</p> + +<p>“Well, we’ll take a chance anyhow,” interposed +Jack Kelly. “I can tell when a fool lies. If it <i>is</i> +yore friend Tom Davis we won’t hurt him none.”</p> + +<p>“Honest, you won’t hurt him?” asked Bill, +grinning broadly. “No, I reckon <i>you</i> won’t, all +right,” he added, for the sheriff was close at hand +now and was coming up at a walk, and Bill had an +abiding faith in that official. He could be a trifle +reckless how he talked now. He laughed sarcastically +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108'></a>108</span> +and hooked his thumbs in the armholes of +his vest. “Nope, I reckon <i>you</i> won’t hurt him, +not a little bit. Not if he knows you’re going to +try it on him. And if it should be Mister Orphant, +well, I hear that he’s dead sore on being hunted–don’t +like it for a d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n. I also hear he drinks +blood instead of water and whips five men before +breakfast every morning to get up an appetite. +Oh, no, and you won’t hurt him neither, will you?”</p> + +<p>“Yore real pert, now <i>ain’t</i> yu?” shouted Curley +angrily. “Yore a whole lot sassy an’ smart, <i>ain’t</i> +yu? But if we find that he is that Orphant, we’ll +pay yu a visit so yu can explain just why yore so +d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d friendly with him. He seems to have a +whole lot of friends about this country, he does! +Even the sheriff won’t hurt him. Even th’ brave +sheriff loses his trail. Must be somethin’ in it for +somebody, eh?”</p> + +<p>“You’d better tell that to somebody else, the +sheriff, for instance. He’d like to think it over,” +responded Bill easily. “It’s a good chance to see +a little branding, a la Colt, as the French say. +Tell it to him, why don’t you?”</p> + +<p>“I’m a-tellin’ it to yu, <i>now</i>, an’ I’ll tell it to +Shields when I sees him, yu overgrown baby, yu!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109'></a>109</span> +shouted Curley, his hand dropping to his Colt. +“Everybody knows it! Everybody is a-talkin’ +about it! An’ we’ll have a new sheriff, too, before +long! An’ as for yu, if we wasn’t in such a hurry, +we’d give yu a lesson yu’d never forget! That +d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d Orphant has got a pull, but we’re goin’ to +give him a push, an’ plumb into hell! Either a +pull or our brave sheriff is some ascairt of him! +He’s a <i>fine</i> sheriff, <i>he</i> is, th’ big baby!”</p> + +<p>“Pleasant afternoon, Curley,” came from behind +the group, accompanied by a soft laugh. The +voice was very pleasant and low. Curley stiffened +and turned in his saddle like a flash. The sheriff +was smiling, but there was a glint in his fighting +eyes that gave grave warning. The sheriff smiled, +but some men smile when most dangerous, and as +an assurance of mastery and coolness.</p> + +<p>“Looking for strays, or is it mavericks?” he +casually asked, a question which left no doubt as +to what the smile indicated, for it was a challenge. +Maverick hunting was at that time akin to rustling, +and it was occurring on the range despite the +sheriff’s best efforts to stop it.</p> + +<p>Curley flushed and mumbled something about a +missing herd. He had suddenly remembered the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110'></a>110</span> +scene at the corral, and it had a most subduing +effect on him. The sheriff regarded him closely +and then noted the bullet holes in the coach. The +door of the vehicle was closed, the curtains down, +and no sound came from within it. The baggage +flap had settled askew over the tell-tale trunks and +hid them from sight on that side.</p> + +<p>“Oh, it’s a missing herd this time, is it?” he +inquired coolly. “Well, I reckon you won’t find +it out here. They don’t wander over this layout +while the Limping Water is running.”</p> + +<p>“Well, we’ll take a look down south aways; it +won’t do no harm now that we’ve got this far,” +replied Larry. “Come on, boys,” he cried. +“We’ve wasted too much time with th’ engineer.”</p> + +<p>“Wait!” commanded the sheriff shortly. +“Your foreman made me certain promises, and I +reckon that you are out against orders. I wouldn’t +be surprised if Sneed wants you right now.”</p> + +<p>Larry laughed uneasily. “Oh, I reckon he ain’t losin’ +no sleep about us. We won’t hurt nobody” –whereat Bill +grinned. “Come on, fellows.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I hope you get what you’re looking +for,” replied the sheriff, whereat Bill snickered outright +and winked at Charley, who sat alert and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111'></a>111</span> +scowling behind the sheriff, rather hoping for a +fight.</p> + +<p>Larry flashed the driver a malicious look and, +wheeling, cantered south, followed by his companions. +They rode straight for the point at which +The Orphan had disappeared, Bill waving his arms +and crying: “Sic ’em.” The chase was on in +earnest.</p> + +<p>The stage door suddenly flew open with a bang +and interrupted the explanations which Bill was +about to offer, and in a flash the sheriff was almost +smothered by the attentions showered on him. +Laughing and struggling and delighted by the +surprise, the peace officer could not get a word +edgewise in the rapid-fire exclamations and questions +which were hurled at him from all sides.</p> + +<p>But finally he could be heard as he extricated +himself from the embraces of his sisters.</p> + +<p>“Well, well!” he cried, smiles wreathing his +face as he stepped back to get a good look at them. +“You’re a sight to make a sick man well! My, +Helen, but how you’ve grown! It’s been five +years since I saw you–and you were only a schoolgirl +in short dresses! And Mary hasn’t grown a +bit older, not a bit,” addressing the elder of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112'></a>112</span> +two. Then he turned to the friend. “You must +pardon me, Miss Ritchie,” he said as he shook +hands with her. “But I’ve been looking forward +to this meeting for a long time. And I’m really +surprised, too, because I didn’t expect you all until +the next stage trip. I had intended meeting you +at the train and seeing you safely to Ford’s Station, +because the Apaches are out. I couldn’t get word +to you in time for you to postpone your visit, so I +was going to take Charley and several more of the +boys and escort you home.”</p> + +<p>Then he looked about for Charley, and found +that person engaged in conversation with Bill as +the two examined the bullet-marked stage.</p> + +<p>“Come here, Charley!” he cried, beckoning his +friend to his side. “Ladies, this is Charley Winter, +and he is a real good boy for a puncher. Charley, +Miss Ritchie, my sisters Mary and Helen. I +reckon you ladies are purty well acquainted with +Bill Howland by this time, but in case you ain’t, +I’ll just say that he is the boss driver of the Southwest, +noted locally for his oppressive taciturnity. +I reckon you two boys don’t need any introducing,” +he laughed.</p> + +<p>Then, while the conversation throbbed at fever +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113'></a>113</span> +heat, Bill suddenly remembered and wheeled +toward the sheriff.</p> + +<p>“The Orphant!” he yelled in alarm, hoping to +gain attention that way.</p> + +<p>The sheriff and Charley wheeled, guns in hand, +and leaped clear of the women, their quick eyes +glancing from point to point in search of the +danger.</p> + +<p>“Where?” cried the sheriff over his shoulder +at Bill.</p> + +<p>“Down south, ahead of them fool punchers,” +Bill exclaimed. “He’s only got a little start on +’em. And they know he’s there, too. That’s why +they’re looking for cows on a place cows never go.”</p> + +<p>Then he related in detail the occurrences of the +past few hours, to the sheriff’s great astonishment, +and also to his delight at the way it had turned out. +Shields thought of his own personal experiences +with the outlaw, and this put him deeper in debt. +His opinion as to there being much good in his +enemy’s makeup was strengthened, and he smiled +at the fighting ability and fairness of the man who +had declared a truce with him by the big bowlder +on the Apache Trail.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I hope they don’t catch him!” Helen +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114'></a>114</span> +cried anxiously. “Can’t you do something, +James?” she implored. “He saved us, and he +is wounded, too! Can’t you stop them?”</p> + +<p>The sheriff looked to the south in the direction +taken by the cow-punchers, and a hard light grew +in his eyes.</p> + +<p>“No, not now,” he replied decisively. “They’ve +had too much time now. And it’s safe to bet that +they rode at full speed just as soon as they got out +of my sight. They knew Bill would tell me. +They’re miles away by this time. But don’t you +worry, Sis–they won’t get him. Five curs never +lived that could catch a timber wolf in his own +country–and if they do catch him, they will wish +they hadn’t. And I almost hope they win the +chase, for they’ll lose their fool lives. It will be a +lesson to the rest of the bullies of the Cross Bar-8–and +small loss to the community at large, eh, +Charley?”</p> + +<p>“Yore shore right, Jim,” replied Charley, smiling +at Miss Ritchie. “Did you ever hear tell of +the dog that retrieved a lighted dynamite cartridge?” +he asked her. “No? Well, the dog left +for parts unknown.”</p> + +<p>“That’s good, Charley,” Shields responded +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115'></a>115</span> +with a laugh. “The dog just wouldn’t mind, and +he was only a snarling, no-account cur at that, +wasn’t he?” Then he looked at the coach, and +his heart softened to the hunted man. “I can see +it all, now,” he said slowly. “Those punchers +must have forced him out of the Backbone, and he +was getting away when he saw the plight you were +in. By God!” he cried in appreciation of the act. +“It wasn’t no one man’s work, five Apaches! One +man stopping five of those devils–it was no work +for a murderer, not much! It was clean-cut nerve, +and if I ever see him I’ll tell him so, too! I’ll let +him know that he’s got some friends in this country. +They can say what they please, but there’s +more manhood in him to the square inch than +there is in all the people who cry him down; and +who are in a great way responsible for his being +an outlaw. I’m ready to swear that he never wantonly +shot a man down; no, sir, he didn’t. And I +reckon he never had much show, from what I +know of him.”</p> + +<p>“Helen was real kind to him,” remarked the +spinster. “She bathed his wound and bandaged +it. Spoiled her very best skirt, too.”</p> + +<p>“You’re a good girl, Sis,” Shields said, looking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116'></a>116</span> +fondly at the beautiful girl at his side. His arm +went around her shoulder and he affectionately +patted her cheek. “I’m proud of you, and we’ll +have to see if we can’t get another ‘very best skirt,’ +too.” Then he laughed: “But I’ll bet he blesses +the warrior who fired that shot–he’s not used to +having pretty girls fuss about him.”</p> + +<p>Mary looked quickly at her sister. “Why, +Helen! You’ve lost your gold pin! Where do +you suppose it has gone? I’ll look in the stage +for it before we forget about it. Dear me, dear +me,” she cried as she entered the vehicle, “this has +indeed been a terrible day!”</p> + +<p>Bill grinned and turned toward his team. “I +reckon she’ll find it some day,” he said in a low +aside as he passed the sheriff. “I’ll just bet she +does. It’ll be in at the finish of a whole lot of +things, and people, too, you bet,” he added enigmatically.</p> + +<p>Shields looked quickly at the driver, his face +brightened and he smiled knowingly at the words. +“I reckon it will; fool punchers, for instance?”</p> + +<p>Bill turned his head and one eye closed in an +emphatic wink. “Keno,” he replied.</p> + +<p>Mary bustled out again, very much agitated. “I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117'></a>117</span> +can’t find it. Where do you suppose you lost it, +dear? I’ve looked everywhere in the stage.”</p> + +<p>“Probably back where we stopped before,” +Helen replied quietly. “We were so agitated that +we would never have noticed it if it slipped down.”</p> + +<p>“Well–” began Mary.</p> + +<p>“No use going back for it, Miss Shields,” +promptly interrupted Bill from his high seat. +“We just couldn’t find it in all that trampled sand, +not if we hunted all week for it with a comb.”</p> + +<p>“You’re right, Bill,” gravely responded the +sheriff. “We never could.”</p> + +<p>As they entered the defile of the Backbone the +sheriff suddenly remembered what Bill had told +him and he stopped and dismounted.</p> + +<p>“You keep right on, Bill,” he said. “I’m going +up to hunt that fool puncher. Lord, but it’s a +joke! This game is getting better every day–I’m +getting so I sort of like to have The Orphan +around. He’s shore original, all right.”</p> + +<p>“He’s better than a marked deck in a darkened +room,” laughed the driver. “He shore ought to +be framed, or something like that.”</p> + +<p>“You better go with them, Charley,” the sheriff +said as his friend made a move at dismounting. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118'></a>118</span> +“There ain’t no danger, but we won’t take no +chances this time; we’ve got a precious coachful.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” replied Charley as he wheeled +toward the disappearing stage. “So long, +Sheriff.”</p> + +<p>The sheriff looked the wall over and then picked +out a comparatively easy place and climbed to the +top. As he drew himself over the edge he espied +a pair of boots which showed from under a pile +of débris, and he laughed heartily. At the laugh +the feet began to kick vigorously, so affecting the +sheriff that he had to stop a minute, for it was the +most ludicrous sight he had ever looked upon.</p> + +<p>Shields grabbed the boots and pulled, walking +backward, and soon an enraged and trussed cow-puncher +came into view. Slowly and carefully +unrolling the rope from the unfortunate man, he +coiled it methodically and slung it over his shoulder, +and then assisted in loosening the gag.</p> + +<p>The puncher was too stiff to rise and his liberator +helped him to his feet and slapped and rubbed +and chuckled and rubbed to start the blood in circulation. +The gag had so affected the muscles of +the puncher’s jaw that his mouth would not close +without assistance and effort, and his words were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119'></a>119</span> +not at all clear for that reason. His first word was +a curse.</p> + +<p>“’Ell!” he cried as he stamped and swung his +arms. “’Ell! I’m asleep all o’er! <span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>! ’Ait +till I get ’im! <span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>! ’Ait till I get ’im!”</p> + +<p>“Sort of continuing the little nap you was taking +when he roped you, eh?” asked Shields, holding +his sides.</p> + +<p>“Nap nothing! Nap nothing!” yelled the +other in profane denial. “I wasn’t asleep, I tell +yu! I was wide awake! He got th’ drop on me, +and then that cussed rope of his’n was everywhere! +Th’ air was plumb full of rope and guns! I didn’t +have no show! Not a bit of a show! Oh, just +wait till I get him! Why, I heard my pardners +talking as they hunted for me, and there I was not +twenty feet away from them all the time, helpless! +They’re fine lookers, they are! Wait till I sees +them, too! I’ll tell ’em a few things, all right!”</p> + +<p>“Well, I reckon you may see one or two of +them, if they’re lucky–and you can’t beat a fool +for luck,” replied the sheriff. “They want to be +angels; they’re on his trail now.”</p> + +<p>“Hope they get him!” yelled the puncher, +dancing with rage. “Hope they burn him at th’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120'></a>120</span> +stake! Hope they scalp him, an’ hash him, an’ +saw his arms off, an’ cave his roof in! Hope they +make him eat his fingers and toes! Hope<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“You’re some hopeful to-day,” responded the +sheriff. “If you like them, you better hope they +don’t get him. That’s hoping real hope.”</p> + +<p>“Wait till I get him!” the puncher repeated, +grabbing for his Colt, being too enraged to notice +its absence. “I’ll show him if he can tie a man up +an’ leave him to choke to death, an’ starve an’ +roast! I’ll show him if he can run this country +like he owns it, shooting and abusing everybody +he wants to!”</p> + +<p>“All right, Sonny,” Shields laughed. “I’ll +shore wait till you gets him, if I live long enough. +But for your sake I shore hope you never finds him. +He wouldn’t get any more reputation if he killed +you, and your friends would miss you.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t yu let that worry yu!” retorted the +enraged man. “I can take care of myself in a +mix-up, all right! An’ I’m going to chase after +my friends an’ take a hand in th’ game, too, by +God! He ain’t going to leave me high an’ dry an’ +live to boast about it! But I suppose you reckon +yu’ll stop me, hey?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121'></a>121</span>Shields raised both hands high in the air in +denial. “I wouldn’t think of such a thing, not for +the world,” he cried, laughter shaking his big +frame. “You can go any place you please, only +<i>I’d</i> take a gun if I was going after <i>him</i>,” he added, +eyeing the empty holster. “You know, you <i>might</i> +need it,” he was very grave in his use of the subjunctive.</p> + +<p>The puncher slapped his hand to his thigh and +then jumped high into the air: “<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>! <span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>!” +he shouted. “Stole my gun! Stole my gun!” +Then he paused suddenly and his face cleared. +“But I’ve got something better’n a Colt on my +cayuse!” he cried as he leaped toward the edge of +the cañon. “An’ I’ll give him all it holds, too!” +he threatened as he bumped and slid to the bottom. +The sheriff took more care and time in descending +and had just reached the trail when he heard a +heart-rending yell, followed by a sizzling stream +of throbbing profanity.</p> + +<p>“Where’s my cayuse?” yelled the puncher as +he rounded the corner of the cañon wall on a +peculiar lope and hop. “Where’s my cayuse, yu +law-coyote?” he shouted, temporarily out of his +senses from rage. “Where’s my cayuse!” dancing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122'></a>122</span> +up to the sheriff and shaking both fists under the +laughter-convulsed face.</p> + +<p>When the sheriff could speak, he leaned against +the cañon wall for support and broke the news.</p> + +<p>“Why, Bill Howland said as how The Orphan +was riding a Cross Bar-8 cayuse–dirty brown, +with a white stocking on his near front foot. It +had a big scar on its neck, too.”</p> + +<p>“Th’ d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d hoss thief!” began the puncher, +but Shields kept right on talking.</p> + +<p>“There was a dandy Cheyenne saddle,” he said, +counting on his fingers, “a good gun, a pair of +hobbles and a big coil of rawhide rope on the +cayuse. Was they yours?”</p> + +<p>“Was they mine! Was they mine!” his companion +screamed. “My new saddle gone, my gun +gone and my fine rope gone! Oh, h–l! How’ll +I hunt him now? How’ll I get home? How’ll I +get back to th’ ranch?” Words failed him, and +he could only wave his arms and yell.</p> + +<p>“Well, it wouldn’t hardly be worth while chasing +him on foot without a gun, that’s shore,” the +sheriff said, grave once more. “But you can get +home all right; that’s easy.”</p> + +<p>“How can I?” asked the puncher, eyeing the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123'></a>123</span> +sheriff’s horse and waiting for the invitation to ride +double on it.</p> + +<p>“Why, walk,” was the reply. “It’s only about +twenty miles as the crow flies–say twenty-five on +the trail.”</p> + +<p>“Walk! Walk!” cried his companion, savagely +kicking at a lizard which looked out from a +crevice in the rock wall. “I never walked five +miles all at once in my life!”</p> + +<p>“Well, it’ll be a new experience, and you can’t +begin any younger,” replied Shields as he swung +into his saddle. “It’ll do you good, too–increase +your appetite.”</p> + +<p>“I’m so hungry now I’m half starved,” replied +the other. “But I’ll pay up for all this, you see if +I don’t! I’ll get square with that d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d outlaw!”</p> + +<p>“You don’t know enough to be glad you were +found,” retorted the sheriff. “And if he hadn’t +told Bill where to look for you, you wouldn’t have +been, neither. You got off easy, Bucknell, and +don’t you forget it, neither. Men have been killed +for less than what you tried to do.”</p> + +<p>The puncher wilted, for twenty-five miles in +high-heeled boots, over rocks and sand, and with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124'></a>124</span> +an empty stomach, was terrible to contemplate, and +he turned to the sheriff beseechingly.</p> + +<p>“Give me a lift, Sheriff,” he implored. “Take +me up behind you–I can’t walk all the way!”</p> + +<p>Shields looked at the sun, which was nearing the +western horizon, and thought for a minute. Then +he shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“Well, I hadn’t ought to help you a step, not a +single, solitary step, and you know it. You tried +your best to run against me. You tried to hold +me up there by the corral, and then after I had +warned you not to go out for The Orphan you +went right ahead. Now you’re asking me to help +you out of your trouble, to make good for your +fool stupidity. But I’ll take you as far as the end +of the cañon–no, I’ll take you on to the ford, and +then you can do the rest on foot. That’ll leave +you ten or a dozen miles. Get aboard.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125'></a>125</span><a id='link_8'></a>CHAPTER VIII<br /><span class='h2fs'>“A TIMBER WOLF IN HIS OWN COUNTRY”</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>W</span>HEN The Orphan said good-by to Bill he sat quietly in his saddle for a +minute watching the departing stage and wondered +how it was that he had the decency to avoid +a fight with the cowboys in the presence of the +women. Then Helen’s words came to him and he +smiled at the idea of peace when he would have to +fight the outfit before sundown. The heat of the +sun on his bare head recalled him from his mental +wanderings and he wheeled abruptly and galloped +along the trail to where he remembered that a tiny, +blood-stained handkerchief lay in the dust and sand. +Soon he espied it and, swinging over in the saddle, +deftly picked it up and regained his upright position, +his head reeling at the effort. Unfolding it +he examined the neat “H” done in silk in one corner +and smiled as he put it in his chaps pocket +where he kept his extra ammunition.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126'></a>126</span>“Peace and war in one pocket,” he muttered, +grinning at his cartridges’ new and unusual companion.</p> + +<p>Then he espied a Winchester near a fallen brave, +and he procured it as he had the handkerchief. +Describing an arc he picked up another, discarding +it after he had emptied the magazine, for ammunition +was what he wanted. Two Winchesters were +all right, but three were too many. As he threw +it from him he glanced through a slight opening in +the chaparral and saw the outfit approach the stage. +Then he galloped to where his sombrero lay, picked +it up and turned to the south for the Cimarron +Trail. When thoroughly screened by the chaparral +he pushed on with the swinging lope which his horse +could maintain for hours, and which ate up distance +in an astonishing manner. He had lost time in +going for his sombrero and the handkerchief, and +every minute before nightfall was precious. His +thoughts now bent to the problem of how either to +elude or ambush his pursuers, and the Winchesters +bespoke his forethought, for up to six hundred +yards they were not a pleasant proposition to face. +If he eluded the cowboys in the darkness he was +morally certain that they would take up his trail +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127'></a>127</span> +at dawn, and what distance he had gained would +be at the expense of the freshness of his horse. +While he would average ten miles an hour through +the night, their mounts, freshened by a night’s rest, +might cut down his gain before the nightfall of the +next day.</p> + +<p>One of the Winchesters worked loose from its +lashings and started to slide toward the ground. +He quickly grasped it and made it secure, smiling +at the number of rifles he had had and lost during +the past three weeks.</p> + +<p>“Funny how this country has been shedding +Winchesters lately,” he mused. “There was the +five I got by the big bowlder, which I lost playing +tag with that d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d Cross Bar-8 gang, and here’s +two more, and I just left three what I didn’t want. +Well, they’re real handy for stopping a rush, and +I reckons that’s what I’m up against this time. If +I can find a likely spot for a scrap before dark I +may stop that gang in bang-up style, d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n them.”</p> + +<p>Half an hour later he caught sight of a moving +body of horsemen to the southeast of him and his +glasses enabled him to make them out.</p> + +<p>“’Paches!” he exclaimed, and then he smiled +grimly and continued on his way toward them, taking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128'></a>128</span> +care to keep himself screened from their sight +by rises and chaparrals. His first thought had +been of danger, but now he laughed at the cards +fate had put in his hand, for he would use the +Indians to great advantage later on.</p> + +<p>He counted them and made their number to be +twenty-two, which accounted for the five warriors +who had pursued the stage coach. The odds were +fine and he laughed joyously, recklessly: “All is +fair in love and war,” he muttered savagely.</p> + +<p>Before the Indians had come upon the scene he +had been alone to face five angry and vengeful men, +and whom he had every reason to believe were at +least fair fighters. Had the positions been reversed +they would not have hesitated to make use of any +stratagem to save themselves–and here were two +contingents, both of which would take his life at +the first opportunity. He felt no distaste at the +game he was about to play; on the other hand, it +pleased him immensely to know that he was superior +in intellect to his enemies. They both wanted +blood, and they should have it. If they found too +much, well and good–that was their lookout. And +no less pleasing was the knowledge that he had sent +them north and that now he could make use of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129'></a>129</span> +them. He wondered what they had been doing for +the last three weeks and why they were still in that +part of the country, but he did not care, for they +were where he wanted them to be.</p> + +<p>“Twenty-two mad Apaches on the warpath +against five cow-wrastlers!” he exulted. “More +than four to one, and just aching to get square on +somebody! That Cross Bar-8 gang will have +something to weep about purty d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n soon! And +I shore hope they don’t get tired and quit chasing +me.”</p> + +<p>He stopped and waited when he had gained a +screened position from where he could look back +over his trail, and he had not long to wait, for soon +he saw five cowboys galloping hard in his direction. +Another look to the southeast showed him that the +war party was now riding slowly toward him, not +knowing of his presence, and they would arrive at +his cover at about the same time the cowboys would +come up. Neither the Indians nor the cowboys +knew of the proximity of the other, while The +Orphan could see them both. He glanced at the +thicket to the west of him and saw that it was thin, +being a connecting link between the two larger +chaparrals.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130'></a>130</span>“I don’t know how you are on the jump, +bronch,” he said to his mount, “but I reckon you +can get through that, all right.”</p> + +<p>The cowboys disappeared from his sight behind +the northern chaparral, and as they did so he sunk +his spurs into his horse and rode straight at the +prickly screen and, going partly over and partly +through it, galloped westward as the war party and +the ranch contingent met. The shots and yells were +as music to his ears, and he bowed in mockery and +waved his hand at the turmoil as he made his +escape. The timber wolf had won.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131'></a>131</span><a id='link_9'></a>CHAPTER IX<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE CROSS BAR-8 LOSES SLEEP</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>S</span>NEED was angry, which could be seen by the way he talked, ate, moved and +swore. He had many cattle to care for and they were +strewn over six hundred square miles of territory. +The work was hard enough when he had his full +dozen punchers, but now it forced groans from the +tired bodies of his men, who fell asleep while removing +their saddles at night, and who worked in a +way almost mechanical. The extra work was not +conducive to sweetness of temper, and he was continually +quelling fights among the members of the +outfit. Where only argument formerly would have +arisen over differences of opinion, guns now leaped +forth; and the differences were multiplied greatly, +and getting worse every day. Things which ordinarily +would have provoked no notice, or a laugh at +most, now caused hot words and surliness. And the +reason for the extra work was the continued absence +of five cow punchers.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132'></a>132</span>Sneed, tired of cursing the missing men and of +offering himself explanations as to why they had +not returned, fell, instead, to planning an appropriate +reception for them on their return to the ranch. +He needed no rehearsing, for while he did not +know in just what manner he would reveal his ideas +concerning them, he knew what his ideas were and +he had always been good at extemporizing when +under pressure, and he was under pressure now if +he had ever been.</p> + +<p>The extra work was hard enough in itself to +cause his anger to rise and to create sensitiveness +and surliness on the part of his men, but it was only +one factor of his discontent. Busy all day at driving +the scattered cattle away from the Backbone +and closer to the ranch proper where they would be +less likely to fall prey to Apache raiders; working +all day from the first sign of dawn to the prohibitive +blackness of the night, they could have stood +up under the strain, for these were men of iron, +inured to hardships and constant riding. But hardy +as they were there was one thing which they must +have, and that was sleep. If they could have only +four hours of unbroken sleep when they threw themselves, +fully dressed with the exception of their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133'></a>133</span> +boots, in their bunks, they could have endured the +labor for weeks. But this was denied them, and +constantly on their minds were thoughts of fire, +slaughtered cattle and death.</p> + +<p>For a week night had been a terror on the Cross +Bar-8. No sooner had the exhausted outfit fallen +asleep than bits of window glass would fly about +them, cutting and stinging. There was not a whole +window pane in the house and the door was so full +of lead that it sagged on its half-shattered hinges. +Cooking utensils were fast deserving premiums, for +hardly an unperforated tin could be found on the +premises. And their cook, a Mexican, who most +devoutly believed in a personal devil and a brimstone +hell, and who feared that he was living in +uncomfortable proximity to both, stood the strain +for just two nights and then, panic-stricken, had +fled from the accursed place and left them to get +their own meals as best they could. The protection +of the saints was all very well and good under +ordinary circumstances, but when they failed to stop +the bullets which passed through his cook shack +and which more than once had grazed him, it was +time for him to find some place far removed from +the Cross Bar-8, and where the devil was less +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134'></a>134</span> +strong. When the saints allowed a devil-sped bullet +to completely shatter a crucifix it was time to +migrate, which he did, but in broad daylight when +the outfit had departed and when the devil was not +in evidence.</p> + +<p>The interiors of both the ranch house and the +bunk house were wrecked. The clock, the pride of +the foreman, stood with half its wheels buried in the +wall behind it by a .50 caliber slug, its hands pointing +to half-past one. Lead filled the interior walls, +where opposite windows, and the holes and splinters +were a disgrace. Sombreros, equipment and the few +pictures the walls boasted were like tops of pepper +shakers. No sooner was a light shown than it became +the target for a shot, and more than one +wound gave proof as to the accuracy of the perpetrator. +So tired that they fell asleep at supper, the +men were constantly awakened by the noise of +devastation and the whining hum of the bullets. +Pursuit was a failure, and was also hazardous, as +proven by Bert Hodge’s arm, broken by a .50 caliber +slug from somewhere.</p> + +<p>The two houses, wrecked as they were, were fortunate +when compared to the condition of the other +appurtenances of the ranch. Horses were found dead +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135'></a>135</span> +at all points, and always with a bullet hole in the center +of the forehead. The carcasses of cows dotted +the plain, and fire had half-destroyed the three corrals. +The three new cook wagons, unsheltered, were +denuded of bolts and nuts, and their tarpaulins were +hopelessly ruined. A wheel was missing from each +of them and their poles had been cut through in the +middle, the severed ends being found on the roof +of the ranch house three minutes after their crashing +descent had awakened the foreman, who heard +the hum and thud of a bullet as he opened the door. +The best grass had been burned off and the outfit +had fought fire on several nights when it should +have slept. And the small water hole near the cook +shack, which furnished water for the bunk house, +had been cleared of a dead calf on two mornings. +Scouting was of no avail, for the few remaining +horses (which now spent the night in the bunk +house) were as exhausted as their riders. Keeping +guard was a farce, for it had been tried twice, and +the guards had fallen asleep; and, awakened by +their foreman at dawn, found that their rifles, sombreros +and even their spurs were missing. With all +his hatred for The Orphan, Sneed was fair-minded +enough to give his enemy credit for being the better +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136'></a>136</span> +man. When the harassing outrages had first begun +and the foreman and his men were comparatively +fresh, he had given the matter his whole attention; +and he was no fool. But he had gained nothing +but a sense of defeat, which fact did not improve +his peace of mind or cause him to lose a whit of his +anger. Do what he could, plan as he might, he was +beaten, and beaten at every turn. He had to deal +with a man whose cunning and ingenuity were far +above the average; a man who, combining a rare +courage and a wonderful accuracy in shooting with +devilish strategy, towered far above the ordinary +rustler and outlaw. Sneed knew that he was absolutely +at the mercy of his persistent enemy and wondered +why it was that he did not steal up in the +night and kill the outfit as it slept, which was +entirely feasible. Finally, when the strain had +grown too much for even his iron nerves the sheriff +was implored to take command on the ranch and +give it his personal protection. The relations between +the sheriff and the ranch were not as cordial +as they might have been, and the asking of this +favor was gall and wormwood to the foreman and +his outfit.</p> + +<p>When Shields arrived to take charge of the trouble, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137'></a>137</span> +accompanied by Charley and two others, he +sought the foreman, for Charley had news of a +grave nature for the Cross Bar-8.</p> + +<p>The foreman ran out of the bunk house and met +them near the corral, where the disagreement had +taken place.</p> + +<p>“By the living God, Sheriff!” he cried, white +with anger. “This thing has got to stop if we have +to call out the cavalry! We can’t get a decent +breakfast–not a whole plate or pan in the house! +Our cayuses and cows are being slaughtered by the +score! And as for the rest of our possessions, they +are so full of holes that they whistle when the wind +blows!”</p> + +<p>“So I heard,” replied the sheriff. “I’ll do my +best.”</p> + +<p>“We’ve been doing our best, but what good is +it?” cried the foreman. “We are so plumb sleepy +we go to sleep moving about! We dassent show +our faces after dark without being made a target +of! Our new wagons are wrecks, the corrals destroyed +and the best grass made us fight for our +lives while it burned! That cursed outlaw has got +to be killed, d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n him!”</p> + +<p>“We’ll do our best, Sneed,” responded Shields. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138'></a>138</span> +“I reckon we can stop it; at least we can give you +a good night’s rest.”</p> + +<p>“Where are my five punchers?” Sneed asked; +his words bellowed until his voice broke. “And +Bucknell! D<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n near dead before you found +him above the cañon, tied up like a package of +flour!”</p> + +<p>“Well, Charley can tell you about your men,” +Shields responded, viewing the devastation on all +sides of him.</p> + +<p>“Well, what about them?” cried the foreman +turning to the sheriff’s deputy, anger flashing anew +in his eyes.</p> + +<p>“Well,” Charley slowly began, “I was taking +a short cut this morning, and when I got to a place +about a dozen miles southeast of the mouth of Bill’s +cañon, I saw five bodies on the desert. They were +your cow-punchers, and they was so full of arrows +that they looked like big brooms. Apaches, I +reckon,” he added sententiously.</p> + +<p>Sneed tore his hair and swore when he was not +choking.</p> + +<p>“And after I told them to let up on that blasted +outlaw’s trail!” he yelled. “Where will it end, +between war-whoops and murders? What sort of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139'></a>139</span> +a God-forsaken layout is this, anyhow? A man +can’t stick his nose out of his own house after dark +without having it skinned by a slug! He’s a +h–l of a hefty orphant, he is! Poor thing, ain’t +got no paw or maw to look after his dear little +hide! He needs a regiment of cavalry for a papa, +that’s what he needs, and a good strong lariat for +a mamma! Orphant! He’s a h–l of a sumptious +orphant!”</p> + +<p>“Have you trailed him?” asked the sheriff, having +to smile in spite of himself at the execution on +all sides of him, and at the foreman’s words.</p> + +<p>“Trailed him!” yelled Sneed, raising on his toes +in his vehemence. “Trailed him! Good God, +yes! But what good is it, what can we do when our +cayuses are so dod-gasted tired that they can’t catch +a tumble bug? Trailed him! Yes, we trailed him, +all right! We trailed him until we fell asleep in +the saddles on our sleeping cayuses! And while we +were gone, d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d if he didn’t blow in and smash +up our furniture! We trailed him, all right; just +like a lot of cross-eyed, locoed drunken ants! We +had to wake each other up, and he could-a killed +the whole crowd of us with a club! And my +punchers who were so cock-sure they’d get him! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140'></a>140</span> +How in h–l did they go and mess up with +Apaches? They wasn’t no fool kids!”</p> + +<p>“The last time we saw them they were leaving +the stage to go south after him,” Charley said. +“They hadn’t got more than ten miles south when +they must have met the Apaches. I have a suspicion +that The Orphan had a hand in that meeting, but +how he did it I don’t know. But I know that the +spot was lovely for a head-on collision. Punchers +riding south would turn the corner of the chaparral +and run into the war party before they knowed it. +And I didn’t see The Orphant’s body laying around +all full of arrows, neither.”</p> + +<p>Sneed’s rage was pathetic. He almost frothed, +and tears stood in his blood-shot eyes. His neck +and his face were red as fire and the veins of his +neck and forehead stood out like whip-cords, while +his face worked convulsively. He was incapable of +coherent speech, his words being unintelligible +growls, a series of snarls, and he could only pace +back and forth, waving his arms and cursing wildly.</p> + +<p>Shields glanced about the ranch and gave a few +orders, his men executing them without delay. One +man was to keep guard in the bunk house while +Sneed and his woe-begone men slept. The sheriff +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141'></a>141</span> +and Charley rode away toward the north to begin +the search for the outlaw; and there was to be no +quarter asked or given if his deputies had anything +to do with it.</p> + +<p>The remaining deputy busied himself about the +ranch in executing a plan the sheriff had thought +out, and his actions were peculiar. First selecting +a position from which a man could command an +extensive view of the premises, he began to pace +off distances in all directions. The place was about +eight hundred yards west of the ranch house and +bunk house, and formed one angle of a triangle +with them; and from it it was possible to look in +through the windows of both of them. Any one +passing within good rifle range of either house +would show up against the lights in the windows; +and if a man had been covered over with sand on +that particular outlying angle, he could pick off the +intruder without being seen. The Orphan was due +to meet with a surprise if he paid his regular visit +the coming night.</p> + +<p>The deputy, after completing his work to his +satisfaction found three more positions where they +respectively commanded the corrals, the wagons and +the rear of the bunk house. Then he paced more +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142'></a>142</span> +distances and was careful that bulky objects interposed +in the direct lines between the positions, this +latter precaution being to make it impossible for +the deputies to shoot each other. This done, he +went into the house and consulted with his companion +in arms, laughing immoderately about the +joke they would play on the marauder.</p> + +<p>While Shields and Charley vainly searched the +plain and while the deputy paced and thought and +paced, and while Sneed and his exhausted cow-punchers +slept as if in death, safely under guard, +two men were riding along the Ford’s Station Sagetown +Trail well to the east of the Backbone, +chatting amicably and smoking the same brand of +tobacco. One of them sat high up in the air on +the seat of a stage coach, from where he overlooked +his six-horse team. His face was wreathed in grins +and his expression was one of beatific contentment. +The other cantered alongside on a dirty brown horse +which had a white stocking on the near front foot, +keeping close watch of the surrounding plain, his +mind active and alert.</p> + +<p>Bill Howland laughed suddenly and slapped +his thigh with enthusiasm: “Say, Orphant,” he +cried, “you are shore raising h–l with that Cross +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143'></a>143</span> +Bar-8 gang! You has got them so tangled up and +miserable that they don’t know where they are! +If their brains was money they’d have to chalk up +their drinks. They’re about as dangerous as ossified +prairie dogs. They remind me of the feller +who kicked a rattlesnake to see if it was alive, and +found out that it was. No, sir, they shore won’t +die of brain fever. Why, they ain’t had any sleep +for a week, have to work double hard, eat what +they can cook in sieve tins, and can’t say their soul’s +their own after dark. They could get rest if they +quit working one day and all but one get plenty of +sleep. Then the other feller could get his at night. +But they don’t know enough. Oh, it’s rich: the +whole blamed town is laughing at ’em fit to bust. +It’s the funniest thing ever happened in these parts +since I’ve been out here.”</p> + +<p>Then he suddenly paused: “Say, Sneed sent a +puncher to town this morning. It was that brass-headed, +flat-faced Bucknell, what you tied up by the +cañon. He begged the sheriff to swear in a dozen +bad men and come out and protect his foreman and +the rest of the outfit. And the pin-headed wart +went and blabbed the whole thing right in front +of the Taggert’s saloon crowd, and he shore had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144'></a>144</span> +to blow, all right. He shore did, and that gang’s +always thirsty.”</p> + +<p>The horseman flecked the ashes from his cigarette +and smiled: “Well?” he asked, looking up.</p> + +<p>“So Shields took Charley Winter and the two +Larkin boys and went out to the ranch right after +the puncher went back. So you want to go easy +to-night or you’ll touch off some unexpected fireworks +and such. Shields and his men will stay out +there for several days and nights. That’ll give the +crazy hens a chance to rest up a bit nights. But +you be blamed careful about them pinwheels and +skyrockets or you’ll get burned some. Now, don’t +you even remember that <i>I</i> told you about it. I +wouldn’t-a said nothing at all, seeing as it ain’t none +of my business, only you went and got me out of a +tight place, and Bill Howland don’t forget a favor, +no siree! You gave me a square deal and a ace +full on kings with them animated paint shops, and +I’ll give you a lift every time I can. It wouldn’t +be a bad scheme to watch for me once in a while–I +might have some news for you.”</p> + +<p>Bill’s offer, plain as it was that he wished to help, +not only because he was in debt to the outlaw, but +also because he wished to have safe trips, touched +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145'></a>145</span> +the horseman deeply. Never in his life had The +Orphan been offered a helping hand from a +stranger; all he could hope for was to get the drop +first. He rode on silently, buried in thought, and +then, suddenly flipping his cigarette at a cactus, +raised his head and looked full at the man above +him.</p> + +<p>“You play square with me, Bill, and I’ll take +care of you,” he replied. “The less you say, the +less apt you are to put your foot in it. I’ll hold my +mouth about your information, for if Shields knew +what you’ve just said he’d play a tune for you to +dance to. The Cross Bar-8 would shoot you before +a day passed. Any time you have news for me, tie +your kerchief to that cactus,” pointing to an exceptionally +tall plant close at hand. “Do it on your +outward trip. If I see it in time I’ll meet you somewhere +on the Sagetown end of the trail on your +return. I’m going back now, so by-by.”</p> + +<p>“So long, and good luck,” replied Bill heartily. +“I’ll do the handkerchief game, all right. Be some +cautious about the way you buzz around that +stacked deck of a Cross Bar-8 for the next few +days.”</p> + +<p>The Orphan wheeled and cantered back, making +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146'></a>146</span> +a detour to the south, for he had a plan to develop +and did not wish to be interrupted by meeting any +more hunting parties. Bill lashed his team and +rolled on his way to Sagetown, a happy smile illuminating +his countenance.</p> + +<p>“They can’t beat us, bronchs,” he cried to his +team. “Me and The Orphant can lick the whole +blasted territory, you bet we can!”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147'></a>147</span><a id='link_10'></a>CHAPTER X<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE ORPHAN PAYS TWO CALLS</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>S</span>HORTLY after nightfall a rider cantered along the stage route, fording +the Limping Water and rode toward the town, whose +few lights were bunched together as if for protection +against the spirits of the night. He soon +passed the scattered corrals on the outskirts of +Ford’s Station and, slowing to a walk, went carelessly +past the row of saloons and the general store +and approached a neat, small house some two hundred +yards west of the stage office. He appeared +careless as to being seen; in fact a casual observer +would have thought him to be some cowboy who +was familiar with the town and who feared the +recognition of no man. But while he had no fear, +he was alert; under his affected nonchalance nerves +were set for instant action. He was in the heart +of the enemy’s country, in the crude stronghold of +the Law, and if anything hostile to him occurred +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148'></a>148</span> +it would happen quickly. And he was familiar +with the town, because he had on more than one +occasion ridden through and explored it, but never +before at such an early hour.</p> + +<p>Arriving at his destination he dismounted and, +leaving his horse unrestrained by rope or strap, +walked boldly up to the door of the sheriff’s house +and knocked. Soon he heard footsteps within and +the door opened wide, revealing him standing hat +in hand and smiling.</p> + +<p>“Good evening, ma’am,” he said uneasily.</p> + +<p>The sheriff’s wife stepped aside and the light +fell full on his face. For an instant she was at a +loss, and then the fresh scar on his forehead and +her husband’s good description came to her aid. +She gasped and stepped back involuntarily, astonished +at his daring. Her act allowed her companions +to see him and the effect was marked. +Miss Ritchie sat upright in expectation, her face +beaming, for this was as romantic and unexpected +as she could wish. Mary gasped and dropped her +hands to her side, not knowing what to do or say, +while Helen slowly laid her work aside and leaned +forward slightly, regarding him intently, a curious +expression on her face.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149'></a>149</span>“I only called to ask how the ladies were,” he +continued slowly, turning his hat in his hands, +apparently not noticing Mrs. Shields’ surprise. “I +was afraid they might have–that their recent +experience might have bothered them some.”</p> + +<p>Evidently it was to be only a social call, and +Mrs. Shields owed something to this fair-minded +and chivalrous man. She smiled kindly, remembering +that the caller was rather well thought of +by her husband–he was not a man for women to +fear, whatever else he might be.</p> + +<p>“It is very kind of you,” she replied. “Won’t +you come in?” she asked from the habit of politeness, +hardly expecting that he would do so.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, I will be glad to for a minute,” +he responded, slowly stepping into the room, +where he suddenly felt awkward and not at all +comfortable.</p> + +<p>Helen picked up her work to fasten a thread, +and he found himself marveling at the cleverness +of her fingers. Again laying the work aside, she +arose to meet him, a mischievous twinkle in her +dark eyes. It was so unusual to have been saved +by an outlaw whom her brother had tried to capture, +and still more unusual to have him dare to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150'></a>150</span> +call on her in her brother’s own house, especially +after her sister’s direct cut at the coach.</p> + +<p>“Won’t you be seated?” she asked, indicating +her own chair by the light and taking his hat. +When the hat left him he suffered a loss, for he +had nothing to twist and grip. He replied by +dropping into the chair, not even seeing that it was +out of range of the door as a compliment to his +hostess. There was no sign of a weapon on him, +his holster being empty; but his blue flannel shirt +was unbuttoned, the opening hidden by his neck-kerchief. +He had, however, only put his Colt +there to have it out of sight, and not because he +feared trouble. Habitual caution was responsible +for the shirt being open, for he was not even sure +that he would fight if trouble should come upon +him, unless the women gave him a clear field.</p> + +<p>Helen drew a chair from the wall and seated +herself in the semi-circle which faced him.</p> + +<p>“I am very glad that your wound has healed +so nicely,” she said with a smile. “We are very +sorry that you were hurt in our defense.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it wasn’t anything,” he quickly replied, +smiling deprecatingly. “You fixed it up so nice +that it didn’t bother me at all–didn’t hurt a bit.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151'></a>151</span>“I am glad it was no worse,” she replied, looking +around the circle. “Grace, Mary, you surely +remember Mr.–Mr.<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“Please call me by the name you know me +by–The Orphan,” smiling broadly. “I’ve almost +forgotten that I ever had any other name.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Orphan–how funny it sounds,” she +laughed. “It’s most original. Margaret, this is +the gentleman to whom we certainly owe our lives. +Oh! I know you don’t like to be reminded of it,” +she went on, answering his deprecatory gesture, +“no doubt you are accustomed to that sort of thing +out here, but in the East such an experience does +not often occur.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad indeed to know and thank you,” +said Mrs. Shields, impulsively extending her hand. +“Your bravery has put me still deeper in your +debt. My husband–” her feelings overcame her +as she realized that this was the man who had +spared to her that husband, her laughing, burly, +broad-shouldered, big-hearted king of men. Was +it possible that this handsome, confident stripling +was his peer?</p> + +<p>Helen relieved the tension: “Mr. Orphan, this +is Miss Ritchie, the same Miss Ritchie who was so +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152'></a>152</span> +badly frightened when she first met you. Perhaps +you’ll remember it. And this<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“I wasn’t! I wasn’t one bit frightened!” declared +Miss Ritchie hotly, to The Orphan’s great +enjoyment.</p> + +<p>“Now, Grace, don’t fib–you can’t deny it. +And this is my sister who was mean enough to keep +her senses when I didn’t. We thought highly of +you then, but even more so now. You see, my +brother has been talking about you, he takes a keen +interest in you, Mr. Orphan–I declare I can’t help +laughing at that name, it sounds so funny; but you +will forgive me, won’t you? I knew you would. +Well, James has been saying nice things about you, +and so you see we know you better now. He likes +you real well, as well as you will let him, and I’m +awful sorry that he is not at home,” she dared, her +eyes flashing with delight. “I am sure he would +like to meet you very much; in fact he has said +as much. Oh, he speaks of you quite often.”</p> + +<p>The caller flushed, but he was determined to let +them think him perfectly at ease.</p> + +<p>“I am glad that he remembers me,” he responded +gravely. “I have only met him once, but +I thought he was rather glad to see me. We had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153'></a>153</span> +a very enjoyable time together and I found him +very pleasant.” He was forced to smile as he +recalled the six Apaches in the sheriff’s rear.</p> + +<p>“Helen was just saying what awful risks her +brother ran,” Miss Ritchie remarked, intently +studying the rugged face before her. “But then, +he’s a man. If I was a man, I wouldn’t be afraid +of them!”</p> + +<p>“My, how brave you are, Grace,” laughed Mrs. +Shields. “I heard quite to the contrary about the +stage ride.”</p> + +<p>“Goodness, Margaret!” retorted Miss Ritchie, +up in arms at the remark. “You would have been +afraid in that old coach if you had been banged +about in it as I was. The noise was terrible, and +that awful driver!”</p> + +<p>The caller smiled at her spirit and then replied +to her, serious at once.</p> + +<p>“Well, he does take chances,” he said. “But +for that matter every man out in this country has +to run risks. Now, I’ve taken some myself,” he +added, smiling quizzically. “But, you know, we +get used to them after a while–we get used to +everything but hunger and thirst–and life. I’ve +even gotten used to being lonesome, and I find that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154'></a>154</span> +it really isn’t so bad after all. And then, you +know, lonesomeness does have its advantages at +times, for it certainly promotes peace, and the cartridges +that it saves are worth considerable. But +it took me several years before I could accept it in +that light with any degree of ease.”</p> + +<p>Helen laughed merrily, for she most of all +appreciated this outcast’s humor, and she liked him +better the more he talked.</p> + +<p>“Yes, in time I suppose one does become accustomed +to danger,” she replied, “although I’ll be +frank enough to admit that I don’t believe I could,” +glancing at her friend. “You risked much by +coming here to-night–just suppose that you had +called last night!”</p> + +<p>“The danger was only from a chance recognition +in the street,” he replied, smiling, “and it +would have been equally dangerous for the man +who recognized me, and perhaps more so, since I +was on the lookout–that balances. I would be +the last man anyone would expect to be in Ford’s +Station at this time, and once free of the town, I +could elude the pursuers in the dark. And as for +the sheriff, I knew that he was not at home to-night, +and, had he been so, I doubt if it would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155'></a>155</span> +have stayed me, for he is fair and square, and an +unarmed man is safe with him in his own house. +He understands what a truce means, and we had +one before.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Shields smiled at him in such warmth that +he thanked his stars that he had played fair out by +the bowlder.</p> + +<p>“He told us of that!” Helen exclaimed, laughingly. +“It was splendid of you, both of you. And, +do you know, I liked you much better for it. And +I wanted to meet you again and talk with you; I’m +dreadfully curious.”</p> + +<p>“Helen!” reproved her sister, and, turning +from the girl to him, she tried to explain away her +sister’s boldness. “You must excuse Helen, Mr.–Mr. +Orphan, because she is not a day older than +she was five years ago.”</p> + +<p>“Why, Mary!” cried Helen, reproachfully, +“how can you say that? Just the other day you +said that I was quite grown up and dignified. I +am sure that Mr.–oh, goodness, there’s that name +again!” she bewailed. “Why don’t you get +another name–that one sounds so funny!”</p> + +<p>The Orphan laughed: “I am not responsible for +the name, I had no hand in it. But, let’s see what +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156'></a>156</span> +we can do,” he said, counting on his fingers. +“There’s Smith, Brown, Jones–Jones sounds +well, why not say it?” he asked gravely. “I am +sure that’s easier to say and remember.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that <i>is</i> better!” she cried. “Let’s see,” +she said, experimenting. “Mr. Jones, Mr. Jones–oh, +pshaw, I like the other much better. I trust +that I’ll get accustomed to it in time, and I certainly +should, because I hear it enough; only then +it hasn’t that formal Mister before it. And it is +the Mister that causes all the trouble. Now, I’ll +try it again: I’m sure that The Orphan (I said +that real nicely, didn’t I?) I’m sure that The +Orphan doesn’t think me lacking in dignity, does +he?” she asked, regarding him merrily, and with +a dare in her eyes.</p> + +<p>“Well, now really,” he began, and then, seeing +the look of warning in her face, he laughed softly. +“Why, really, I think that you must be much more +dignified than you were five years ago.”</p> + +<p>“That’s such a neat evasion that I hardly know +whether to be angry or not,” she retorted, and +then turned to Miss Ritchie, who was smiling.</p> + +<p>“Grace,” she cried, “for goodness sake, say +something! You don’t want me to do all the talking, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157'></a>157</span> +do you?” and before her friend could say a +word she began a new attack, her eyes sparkling +at the fun she was having.</p> + +<p>“What have you done since I told you to behave +yourself?” she asked, assuming a judicial seriousness +which was extremely comical.</p> + +<p>He laughed heartily, for she was so droll, her +eyes flashing so with vivacity, and so rarely beautiful +that he breathed deep in unconscious effort to +absorb some of the atmosphere she had created. +And he was not alone in his mirth, for Helen’s +audacity had caused smiles to come to Miss Ritchie +and Mrs. Shields, who were content to take no part +in the conversation, and even Mary forgot to be +serious.</p> + +<p>“Well, I haven’t had time to do much,” he replied +in humble apology, “although I have been +occupied in a desultory way on the Cross Bar-8 for +a week, and before that I was quite busily engaged +in traveling for my health. You see, this climate +occasionally affects me, and I am forced to go +south or west for a change of air. I was just starting +out on my last trip when I first met you, and I +have reason to believe that my promptness in leaving +you saved me much annoyance. But I have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158'></a>158</span> +cooked quite a few meals in the interim–and I’ve +learned how mutton should be broiled, too. I’ll +have to confess, however, that I have been out late +nights. But then, I’ll have a better record to report +next time, honest I will.”</p> + +<p>Helen leveled an accusing finger at him: “You +spoiled all the cooking utensils on that ranch, and +you scared that poor cook so bad that he fled in +terror of his life and left those poor, tired men to +get all their own meals. Now, that was not right, +do you see? The poor cook, he was almost frightened +to death. I am almost ashamed of you; you +will have to promise that you will not do anything +like that again.”</p> + +<p>“I promise, cross my heart,” he replied eagerly, +thinking of the five dead punchers she had been +kind enough to overlook. “I solemnly promise +never to scare that cook again,” then seeing that +she was about to object, he added, “nor any other +cook.”</p> + +<p>“And you’ll promise not to spoil any more tins, +or terrorize that poor outfit, or burn any more +corrals, and everything like that?” she asked +quickly, for she detected a trace of seriousness in +his face and wished to drive home her advantage. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159'></a>159</span> +If she could get a serious promise from him she +would rest content, for she knew he would keep +his word.</p> + +<p>He thought for an instant and then turned a +smiling face to her. Seeing veiled entreaty in her +eyes, he suddenly felt a quiet gladness steal over +him. Perhaps she really cared about his welfare, +after all, though he dared not hope for that. He +grew serious, and when he spoke she knew that he +had given his word.</p> + +<p>“I promise not to take the initiative in any warfare, +nor to harass the Cross Bar-8 unless they +force me to in self-defense,” he replied.</p> + +<p>She hid her elation, for she had gained the point +her brother had failed to win, and did not wish to +risk anything by showing her feelings. As if to +reward him for yielding to her, she led the conversation +from the personal grounds it had assumed +and cleverly got him to talk about the country and +everything pertaining to it.</p> + +<p>He was thoroughly at ease now, and for an hour +held them interested by his knowledge of the trails +and the natural phenomena. He told them of +cattle herding, its dangers and sports; and his +description of a stampede was masterly. He recounted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160'></a>160</span> +the struggles of the first settlers with the +Indians, and even quite extensively covered the +field of practical prospecting, lightening his story +with naïve bits of humor and witty personal opinions +which had them laughing heartily. It was not +long before they forgot that they were entertaining, +or, rather, being entertained by an outlaw; +and as for himself, it was the most pleasant evening +he had ever known. There was such an air of +friendliness and they were so natural and human +that he was stimulated to his best efforts; the barriers +had been broken down.</p> + +<p>“Oh, James says that you are a wonderful +shot!” cried Helen, interrupting his description of +a shooting match at a cowboy carnival he had once +attended in a northern town. “He says that no +man ever lived who could hope to beat you with +either rifle or revolver, six-shooter, as he calls it. +Won’t you let me see you shoot, some day?”</p> + +<p>He laughed deprecatingly: “You ask the sheriff +to shoot for you,” he responded. “He can beat +me, I’m sure.”</p> + +<p>“No, he can’t!” she cried impulsively, “because +he said he couldn’t. That was why he +couldn’t get you–” she stopped, horrified at what +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161'></a>161</span> +she had said. Then, determined to make the best +of it, and knowing that excuses or apologies would +make it worse, she hurriedly continued: “He says +that you are so fair and square that he just will not +take any advantage of you. He likes square people, +and he isn’t afraid to say it, either.”</p> + +<p>The Orphan sat silently for half a minute, thinking +hard, while Mrs. Shields looked anxiously at +him. Here was peace and happiness. The sheriff +could come and go as he pleased, and every good +citizen was his friend. He had a home–a pleasant +contrast to the man who spent his nights under the +stars, not sure of his life from day to day, hounded +from point to point, having no friend, no one who +cared for him; he was just an outlaw, and damned +by his fellow men. Then he remembered what +Helen had said before leaving him at the coach. +She had faith in him, for she had told him so–and +she would not lie. Her kindness and faith in him, +an outcast, had been with him in his thoughts ever +since, and he had felt the loneliness of his life +heavily from that day. He felt a strange gnawing +at his heart and he slowly raised his eyes to her, +eagerly drinking in her radiant beauty, a beauty +wonderful to him, for never before had he seen a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162'></a>162</span> +beautiful woman. To him women had always +been repellent–and no wonder. He scorned those +usually found in the cow towns. At their best they +were only ornaments, and to The Orphan’s mind +ornaments were trash. But now he suddenly awoke +to the fact that she was more, that she was all that +was worth fighting for, that she was the missing +half of his consciousness. And she herself had +given him heart for the fight, slight as it was, for +he was like a drowning man clutching at straws. +But still his cynicism swayed him and made him +fear that it would be a hopeless battle. Again he +thought of her brother and suddenly envied him, +and the liking he had felt for the sheriff became +strong and clear. Shields was a white man, just +and square.</p> + +<p>He slowly raised his eyes to Mrs. Shields and +smiled, which caused her look of anxiety to clear.</p> + +<p>“The Sheriff is the whitest man in this whole +country,” he said quietly, a trace of his mood being +in his voice, “and only for that did I play square +with him. In confidence, just to let you know that +I am not as bad as people say, I will tell you that +I have had him under my sights more than once, +and that I will never try to harm him while he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163'></a>163</span> +remains the man he is. I do not exaggerate when +I say that I am naturally a good judge of men, and +I knew what he was in less than a minute after I +met him.</p> + +<p>“At this minute he is watching for me, he and +Charley Winter and the Larkin brothers. They +are lying quietly out on the plain, waiting for me +to show up between them and the lights of the +windows. This is not guesswork, for I know it. +And if it was only the sheriff, and I did show up +over his sights, he would call out and give me a +chance to surrender or fight, and not shoot me +down like a dog; the others wouldn’t. And because +of my faith in his squareness, and because I +above all others can fully appreciate it at its highest +value, I am going to ask you to remember this, +Mrs. Shields: If he ever needs a man to stand at +his back, and I can be found, he has only to let me +know. He is compromising himself with certain +people because he has been fair to me, so please +remember what I said. He is the sheriff, and he +only does his duty, for which I cannot blame him. +Bill Howland may be able to find me if trouble +should come upon you and yours.</p> + +<p>“Others have hunted for me as if I was a cattle-killing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164'></a>164</span> +wolf. They have tracked me and hounded +me in gangs, determined to shoot me down at the +first opportunity, and unawares, if possible. They +have laid traps for me, tried to ambush me, and +even stooped so low as to poison the water of a +remote water hole with wolf poison–strychnine. +They knew that I occasionally filled my canteen +from it. Those who fight me foully I repay in +kind–but never with poison! It is my wits and +gunplay against theirs and against their cowardice +and dirty tricks. When I fight, it is not because I +want to, except in the case of Indians, but because +I must. But your husband is a white man, madam, +a thoroughbred. He stands so far above the rest +of the men in this country that I have only respect +and liking for him. Can you imagine the sheriff +using poison to kill a man?</p> + +<p>“Once when I had finally found a good berth +punching cows, once when I had started out aright, +I was discovered. They didn’t get me, though +they tried to hard enough. And they call me a +murderer because I declined to remain inactive +while they prepared for my funeral! Ever since +I was a lad of fifteen I have fought for my life at +every turn, and continually. I have no friends, not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165'></a>165</span> +a living soul cares whether I live or die. There is +no one whom I can trust, and no one who trusts +me. I have to be ever on the lookout, and suspicious. +Every man is my enemy, and all I have is +my life, worthless as it is. But pride will not let +me lose it without making a fight.</p> + +<p>“I hope the time will come when you can see +me shoot, Miss Shields, that the time will come +when I can turn my back to my fellow men without +fearing a shot. Only once have I done that–it was +with your brother, and I enjoyed it immensely. +And no one will welcome that day more devoutly +than the outlawed Orphan–the many times murderer–but +by necessity: for I never killed a man +unless he was trying to kill me, and I never will. +I know what is <i>said</i>, but what I say is the truth. I +can only ask you to believe me, although I realize +that I am asking much.”</p> + +<p>He arose and walked over to his sombrero, taking +it up and turning toward the door.</p> + +<p>“To-night is the first time in ten years that I +have been in a stranger’s house unarmed, and at +ease. You have made the evening so pleasant for +me, so delightfully strange, and you all have been +so good to talk to me and treat me white that I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166'></a>166</span> +find it impossible to thank you as I wish I could. +Words are hopelessly inadequate, and more or less +empty, but you will not lose by it,” he said as he +opened the door. “Good night, ladies.”</p> + +<p>The door closed softly, quickly, and the women +heard the cantering hoofbeats of his horse as they +grew fainter and finally died out on the plain.</p> + +<p>His departure was seemingly unnoticed. They +sat in silence for a minute or more, each lost in her +own thoughts, each deeply affected by his words, +staring before them and picturing each as her +temperament guided, the hunted man’s dangers +and loneliness. Mrs. Shields sat as he had left her, +her chin resting in her hand, seeing only two men +in a chaparral, one of whom was the man she loved. +She could hear the shooting and the war cries, she +could see them meet, and clasp hands at the parting; +and her heart filled with kindly pity for the +outcast, a pity the others could not know. Helen, +her face full in the light, her arms outstretched on +the table before her and her eyes moist, wondered +at the savage unkindness of men, the almost unbelievable +harshness of man for man. Her head +dropped to her arms, and her sister Mary, also +under the spell, wondered at the expression she had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167'></a>167</span> +seen on Helen’s face. Miss Ritchie, who had +scarcely given more than a passing thought to the +sadness in his words, was picturing his fights, +drinking in the dash and courage which had so +exalted him in her mind. With all his loneliness, +his danger, she almost envied him his devil-may-care, +humorous recklessness and good fortune, his +superb self-confidence and prowess. Here was a +man who fought his own battles, who stood alone +against the best the world sent against him, giving +blow for blow, and always triumphing.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Shields stirred, glanced at Helen’s bowed +head and sighed:</p> + +<p>“Now I understand why James likes him so. +Poor boy, I believe that if he had a chance he would +be a different and better man. James is right; he +always is.”</p> + +<p>“I think he is just splendid!” cried Miss +Ritchie with a start, emerging from her dreams of +deeds of daring. “Simply splendid! Don’t you +Helen?” she asked impulsively.</p> + +<p>Helen arose and walked to the door of her +room, turning her face toward the wall as she +passed them: “Yes, dear,” she replied. “Good +night.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168'></a>168</span>“Oh, why are men so cruel!” she cried softly +as she paused before her mirror. “Why must +they fight and kill one another! It’s awful!”</p> + +<p>The door had softly opened and closed and Miss +Ritchie’s arms were around her neck, hugging +tightly.</p> + +<p>“It <i>is</i> awful, dear,” she said. “But they can’t +kill <i>him!</i> They can’t hurt him, so don’t you care. +Come on to bed–I have <i>so</i> much to talk about! +Don’t put your hair up to-night, Helen–let’s go +right to bed!”</p> + +<p>Helen impulsively kissed her and pushed her +away, her face flushed.</p> + +<p>“You dear, silly goose, do you think I am +worrying about him? Why, I had forgotten him. +I’m thinking about James.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, of course you are,” laughed Miss Ritchie. +“I was only teasing you, dear. But it <i>is</i> too bad +that nobody cares anything about him, isn’t it, +Helen?”</p> + +<p>Tears trembled in Helen’s eyes and she turned +quickly toward the bed. “Well, it’s his own +fault–oh, don’t talk to me, Grace! Poor James, +all alone out there on that awful plain! I’m just +as blue as I can be, so there!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169'></a>169</span>“Have a good, long cry, dear,” suggested Miss +Ritchie. “It does one <i>so</i> much good,” she added +as she stepped before the mirror. “But I think +he is just as splendid as he can be–I wish I was +a man like him!”</p> + +<p>And while they played at pretending, the man +who was uppermost in their thoughts was playing +a joke on the sheriff at the Cross Bar-8 which +would open that person’s eyes wide in the morning.</p> + +<p style='letter-spacing:4em; text-align: center; margin: 10px auto;'>·····</p> + +<p>On the ranch the darkness was intense and no +sounds save the natural noises of the night could +be heard. The sky was overcast with clouds and +occasionally a drop of rain fell. The haunting +wail of a distant coyote quavered down the wind +and the cattle in the corral were restless and uneasy. +A mounted man suddenly topped a rise at a walk +and then stopped to stare at the dim lights in the +windows of the houses nearly a mile away. He +laughed softly at the foolishness of the inmates +trying to plot for <i>his</i> death by doing something +they had not dared to do for a week. Who would +be so foolish as to ride up to those lighted windows +unless he was a tenderfoot?</p> + +<p>Leaping lightly to the grass, he hobbled his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170'></a>170</span> +horse and then took a bundle from his saddle, +which he strapped on his back and then went +quietly forward on foot, peering intently into the +darkness before him. Soon he dropped to his +hands and knees and crawled cautiously and without +a sound. After covering several hundred +yards in this manner he dropped to his stomach +and wriggled forward, his eyes strained for dangers. +A quarter of an hour elapsed, and then he +heard a sneeze, muffled and indistinct, but still a +sneeze. Avoiding the place from whence it came, +he made a wide detour and finally stopped, chuckling +silently. Untying the bundle he removed it +from his back and placed it upon a pile of sand, +which he heaped up for the purpose, and, printing +his name in the sand at its base, retreated as he +had come and without mishap. After searching +for a quarter of an hour for his horse he finally +found it, removed the hobbles and vaulted to the +saddle. Wheeling, he rode off at a walk, soon +changing to a canter, in the direction of the Limping +Water. When he had gained it he chanced +the danger of quicksands and rode north along the +middle of the stream. If he was to be followed, +the probability was that his pursuers would ride +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171'></a>171</span> +south to find where he had left the water; and they +must be delayed as long as possible.</p> + +<p>An hour later daylight swiftly developed and a +peculiarly shaped pile of sand quaked and split +asunder as a man arose from it. He shook himself +and spent some time in digging the sand from +his pockets and boots and in cleaning his rifle of it. +Then he walked wearily toward the bunk-house, +whose occupants were still lost in the sleep of the +exhausted. It was very tedious to stay awake all +night peering at the lights in the distant windows; +and it was very hard to keep one’s eyes from closing +when lying in that position, and without any +sleep for twenty-four hours. The sheriff determined +to crawl into a bunk as soon as he possibly +could and be prepared for his next vigil.</p> + +<p>As he glanced over the plain he espied something +which caused him to stare and rub his tired eyes, +and which immediately banished sleep from his +mind. Running to it, he suddenly stopped and +swore: “Hell!” he shouted.</p> + +<p>His wife’s blue flower pot sat snugly on the +apex of a pile of sand and from it arose a +geranium, which was tied to a supporting stick by +a white ribbon. He had whittled that stick himself, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172'></a>172</span> +and he knew the flower pot. Roughly traced +in the sand at its base was one word–“Orphan.”</p> + +<p>“Margaret’s geranium in its blue pot, by +God!” cried the sheriff, his mouth open in amazement. +“Well, I’ll be d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d!” he exclaimed, +running toward the corral for his horse. “If that +son-of-a-gun ain’t been out here under my very nose +while I watched for him!”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173'></a>173</span><a id='link_11'></a>CHAPTER XI<br /><span class='h2fs'>A VOICE FROM THE GALLERY</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>M</span>ATTERS were fast coming to a head as far as the sheriff and the Cross +Bar-8 were concerned. The loss of the five +men who had won the friendship of their fellows, +the reign of terror caused by the outlaw, the loss of +their cook, the devastation and the extra work had +only deepened the hatred which the members of the +outfit held for The Orphan; and it went farther +than The Orphan.</p> + +<p>Sneed was not long in learning what took +place at the stage and of the driver’s loyalty to the +outlaw, because Bill would talk; and the working +of his mind was the same as that of his men, for it +followed the line of least resistance. Questions of +the nature of arraignments, and which were answerable +by the outfit in only one way, constantly presented +themselves in the minds of the men. They +asked themselves why it was that a man of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174'></a>174</span> +sheriff’s proven courage, marksmanship and cleverness +should fail to get the man who so terrorized +the ranch. Why was the sheriff so apparently +reluctant to take up the chase in earnest and push +it to a finish? Why was he so firm against the +assistance of the ranchmen? Why did he keep to +his determination to allow no lynch law when the +evil was so great and the danger so pressing? And +he was prepared to go to great lengths to see that +his orders were not disobeyed, as proven by the +scene at the corral. Why could he not have overlooked +one lynching party when property was being +destroyed and lives in danger? And why had the +outrages suddenly ceased when Shields took charge +of the defense of the ranch?–there had been no +molestation, not a shot had been fired, not a cow +killed. And how was it that a flower pot, which +Shields had admitted as belonging to his wife, had +been placed at a point hardly two hundred yards +in front of the peace officer as he lay on guard? It +was true that it was out of line of him and the +lights, but that could be explained by events. From +whom did The Orphan learn of the trap set for +him, and all of its details, even to the placing of +the men, enabling him to avoid the eager deputies +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175'></a>175</span> +and choose the position occupied by the sheriff +when he had so recklessly flaunted his contempt +from a pile of sand?</p> + +<p>The cowboys were naturally enough warped and +prejudiced because of their blind rage and hatred, +and the questions which ran so riotously through +their minds found their answers waiting for them; +in fact, the answers induced the questions, and each +recurrence gave them added weight until they +ceased to be questions and became, in reality, statements +of facts. Bill had talked too much when he +had told in careful detail of the attentions shown +The Orphan by the sheriff’s sister; and to minds +eager for confirmation of their suspicions this was +the crowning proof of the double dealing of the +sheriff. And to make matters worse, Tex Williard, +who was as unscrupulous a man as ever wore the +garb of honesty, had tried to force his attentions on +Helen when she rode for exercise. His ideas of +women had been developed among those who +frequented frontier bar-rooms, and he was enraged +at his rebuff, which had been sharp and final. She +actually preferred a murdering outlaw to a hardworking +cowboy! His profane oratory as to the +collusion, or at least passive sympathy between the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176'></a>176</span> +sheriff and the outlaw found eager ears and receptive +minds awaiting the torch of initiative, and it +was not long before low-voiced consultations began +to plan a drastic course of action. Credit must be +given to Sneed, because he knew only of the natural +discontent and nothing of what was in the wind. +Had he known what was brewing he would have +stamped it out with no uncertain force, for he was +wise enough to realize the folly of increasing the +antagonism which already was held by Ford’s Station +for his ranch.</p> + +<p>At first the conspirators had hopes of undermining +Shields among the citizens of the town, not +knowing the feeling there as well as their foreman +knew it, but they were wise enough to go about it +cautiously; and the returns justified their caution, +for they found the inhabitants of Ford’s Station +unassailably loyal to the peace officer. To accuse +him, either directly or by suggestion, of double +dealing would be to array the two score inhabitants +of the town on his side in hot and belligerent partisanship, +and this they wished to avoid by all means, +for they had no stomach for such a war as might +easily follow. They then hit upon what appeared +to them to be an excellent plan, inasmuch as it was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177'></a>177</span> +indirect and would give the results desired; and the +medium was to be the driver.</p> + +<p>The talkative one had shown more than passing +friendliness for The Orphan, and they had his +boasting words for it and he could not deny it, for +Bill was very proud of the part he had played on +that memorable day, and he took delight in recounting +the conversation he had held with the outfit at +the coach–and he had a way of adding to the tartness +of his repartee in its repetition. Tex Williard +reasoned from experience that it would not appear +at all strange and unusual for Bill to be called to +account for his friendliness and assistance to the +outlaw and for his contemptuous words concerning +the cowboys if it was done by some member or members +of the ranch as a personal affair and without +the appearance of being sanctioned by the foreman. +And through the driver he hoped to strike at +Shields, for the sheriff would not remain passive in +such an event; and once he was drawn into a brawl, +hot tempers or accident would be the plea if he +should be killed. The apologies and remorse of the +sorrowful participants could be profound. And +thus was cold-blooded murder planned by the very +men who reviled The Orphan because they +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178'></a>178</span> +claimed he was a murderer, and who cried aloud +for his death on that charge.</p> + +<p>Tex was the ringleader and in his own way he +was not without cunning, and neither was he lacking +in daring. He selected his assistants for the +game with cool, calculating judgment. The three he +finally decided upon were reckless and not lacking +in intelligence and physical courage for such work. +After having made his selection he sounded them +carefully and finally made his plans known, going +into minute rehearsal of every phase and detail of +the game with thoughtful care and studied sequence. +When he believed them to be well drilled he fixed +upon the time and place and caused word to get to +Bill that he might expect trouble for his assistance +to The Orphan, and for having had a hand in +sending the five cowboys to their deaths. The news +immediately reached the ears of the sheriff, who +determined to see that Bill received no injury at the +hands of the Cross Bar-8. He quietly made up +his mind to be near the stage route on the days when +Bill drove through the defile of the Backbone, and +to be within call if he should be needed. If he +should think it necessary, he would even go so far +as to become a regular passenger in the coach until +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179'></a>179</span> +the trouble died down. To the masterly driving +and cool-headed courage of Bill no less than to the +daring and accuracy of The Orphan was the sheriff +indebted for the lives of his sisters; and the protection +of Bill clove close to the line of duty, and +not one whit less to the line of law and order.</p> + +<p>Bill laughed and boasted and made a joke of the +thought of any danger from the malcontents of the +Cross Bar-8, and flatly refused to allow the sheriff +to ride with him. He talked volubly until the +agent profanely sent him on his journey, and he +tore through the streets of the town in the same +old way. He forded the Limping Water in safety +and crossed the ten mile stretch of open plain without +a sign of trouble. As he left the water of the +stream the sheriff started after him from town, +intending to be not far behind him when he entered +the rough country.</p> + +<p>When Bill plunged into the defile through the +Backbone he began to grow a little apprehensive, +and he intently watched each stretch of the road as +each successive turn unfolded it to his sight. His +foot was on the brakes and he was braced to stop +the rush of his team at the first glimpse of an +obstruction, or to tear past the danger if he could. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180'></a>180</span> +One coyote yell and one snap of the whip would +send the team wild, for they remembered well.</p> + +<p>All was nice until he neared the place where The +Orphan had held him up for a smoke, and it was +there the trouble occurred. As he swung around +the sharp turn he saw four cowboys bunched +squarely in the center of the trail and at such a +distance from him that to attempt to dash past +them would be to lay himself open to several shots. +They had him covered, and as he grasped the situation +Tex Williard rode forward and held up his +hand.</p> + +<p>“Stop!” Tex shouted. “Get down!”</p> + +<p>“What in thunder do you want?” Bill asked, +setting the brakes and stopping his team, wonder +showing on his face.</p> + +<p>“Yu!” came the laconic reply. “Get down!”</p> + +<p>“What’s eating you?” Bill asked in no uncertain +inflection. Had Tex been less imperative and +kept the insulting tone out of his words Bill might +have had time to become afraid, but the sting made +him leap over fear to anger; and genuine anger +takes small heed of fear.</p> + +<p>Tex motioned to one of his men, who instantly +leaped to the ground and ran to the turn, where he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181'></a>181</span> +knelt behind a rock, his rifle covering the back trail. +Then Tex returned to the driver.</p> + +<p>“Curiosity is eating me, yu half-breed!” he +cried. “<span class='sc'>Get down</span>! d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n yu, <span class='sc'>get down</span>!! +Don’t wait all day, neither, do yu hear? What +th’ h–l do yu think I’m a-talkin’ for!”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’ll be blamed!” ejaculated Bill, wrapping +the reins about the back of his seat. “Anybody +would think you was the boss of the earth to +hear you! You ain’t no road agent, you’re only a +fool amature with more gall than brains! But I’ll +tell you right here and now that if you <i>are</i> playing +road agent, I wouldn’t be in your fool boots for a +cool million. And if you are joking you are showing +d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d bad taste, and don’t you forget it. +You’re holding up a sack of U. S. mail, and if you +don’t know what that means<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“Shut yore face! Yu talk when I ask yu to!” +shouted Tex as the driver dropped to the ground. +“But since yore so unholy strong on th’ palaver, +suppose yu just explains why yu are so all-fired +friendly to Th’ Orphant? Suppose yu lisp why yu +take such a peculiar interest in his health and happiness. +Come now, out with it–this ain’t no Quaker +meeting.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182'></a>182</span>“Warble, birdie, warble!” jeered one of the +cowboys. “Sing, yu <span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span> <span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>!”</p> + +<p>“We’re shore waitin’, darlin’,” jeered another. +“Tune up an’ get started, Windy.”</p> + +<p>“Well, since you talks like that,” cried Bill, +stung to reckless fury at the cutting contempt of the +words, “you can go to h–l and find out from +your fool friends!” he shouted, beside himself with +rage. “Who are you to stick me up and ask questions? +It’s none of your infernal business who I +like, you hog-nosed tanks! Why didn’t you bring +some decent men with you, you flat-faced skunks? +Why didn’t you bring Sneed! White men would +a told you just what you are if you asked them to +help you in your dirty work, wouldn’t they? Even +a tin-horn gambler, a crooked cheat, would give me +more show for my money than you have, you bowlegged +coyotes! Ain’t you man enough to turn the +trick alone, Williard? Can’t you play a lone hand +in ambush, you bob-tailed flush of a bad man! +You’re only a lake-mouthed, red-headed wart of a +two-by-four puncher, that’s what<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>Tex had been stunned by surprise at such an outburst +from a man whom he had always regarded as +woefully lacking in courage. Then his face flamed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183'></a>183</span> +with an insane rage at the taunting insults hurled +venomously at him and he sprang to action as +though he had been struck. It would have been +bad enough to hear such words from an equal, but +from Bill!</p> + +<p>“Yu cur!” he yelled as he leaped forward into +the tearing sting of the driver’s whip, which had +been hanging from the wrist.</p> + +<p>“You’re the fourth dog I cut to-day,” Bill said, +jerking it back for another try.</p> + +<p>Tex shivered with pain as the lash cut through +his ear, as it would have cut through paper, and +screamed his words as he avoided the second blow. +“I’ll show yu if I am man enough! I’ll kill yu for +that, d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n yu!”</p> + +<p>As Tex threw his arms wide open to clinch, Bill +leaped aside and drove his heavy fist into the cowman’s +face as he passed, knocking him sidewise +against the wall of the defile; and then struggled +like a madman in the toils of two ropes. He was +a Berserker now, a maniac without a hope of life, +and he screamed with rage as he tore frantically at +the rough hair ropes, wishing only to destroy, to +kill with his bare hands. The blow had not been +well placed, being too high for the vital point, but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184'></a>184</span> +it had smashed the puncher’s nose flat to his face +and one eye was fast losing its resemblance to the +other. Tex staggered to his feet and returned to the +attack, striking savagely at the face of the bound +man. Bill avoided the blow by jerking his head +aside and snarled like a beast as he drove the heel +of his heavy boot into his enemy’s stomach. Then +everything grew black before his eyes and a roaring +sound filled his ears. The rope slackened and +the men who had thrown him head-first on a rock +leaped from their horses and ran to him.</p> + +<p>When his senses returned he found himself bound +hand and foot and under a spur of rock which +projected from the bank of the cut. His face was +cut and bruised and his scalp laid open, but through +the blood which dripped from his eyebrows he +vaguely saw Tex, bent double and rocking back and +forth on the ground, intoned moans coming from +him with a sound like that made by a rasp on the +edge of a box.</p> + +<p>As Bill’s brain cleared he became conscious of +excruciating pains in his head, as if hammers were +crashing against his skull. Glancing upward he +saw that a rope ran from his neck to the rock, over +it and then to the pommel of a saddle, and his face +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185'></a>185</span> +twitched as its meaning sifted through his mind. +Then he thought of the time The Orphan had held +him up in the defile–how unlike these men the outlaw +was! If he would only come now–what joy +there would be in the flashing of his gun; what +ecstasy in the confusion, panic, rout that he would +cause. He was dazed and the throbbing, heavy, +monotonous pain dulled him still more. He seemed +to be apart from his surroundings, to be an onlooker +and not an actor in the game. He wondered +if that whip was his: yes, it must be . . . certainly +it was. He ought to know his own whip +. . . of course it was his. He regarded Tex +curiously . . . there had been Indians, or was +it some other time? What was Tex doing there +on the ground? He struggled to think clearly, and +then he knew. But the deadening pain was merciful +to him, it made him apathetic. Was he going to +die? Perhaps, but what of it? He didn’t care, for +then that pain wouldn’t beat through him. Tex +looked funny. . . . He closed his eyes wearily +and seemed to be far away. He <i>was</i> far away, and, +oh, so tired!</p> + +<p>Tex finally managed to gain his feet and +straighten up and revealed his face, bloody and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186'></a>186</span> +swollen and black from the blow. His words came +with a hesitation which suggested pain, and they +were mumbled between split and swollen lips.</p> + +<p>“Now, d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n yu!” he cried, brokenly, staggering +to the helpless man before him. “Now +mebby yu’ll talk! Why did yu help Th’ Orphant? +If yu lie yu’ll swing!”</p> + +<p>Bill swayed and his eyes opened, and after an +interval he slowly and wearily made reply, for his +senses had returned again.</p> + +<p>“He saved my life,” he said, “and I’ll help–anybody +for that.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, he did, did he?” jeered Tex. “An’ why? +That ain’t his way, helpin’ strangers at his own +risk. Why?”</p> + +<p>“There was women–in the coach.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, there was, hey?” ironically remarked Tex. +“Mebby he wanted ’em all to himself, eh?”</p> + +<p>“He’s a white man, not a cur.”</p> + +<p>“He’s a cub of th’ devil, that’s what he is!” +Tex cried. “He ain’t no orphant, not by a d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d +sight–th’ devil’s his father, an’ all hell is his +mother. Now, I want an answer to this one, and I +want it quick: no lie goes. Why don’t th’ sheriff +get busy an’ camp on his trail? What interest has +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187'></a>187</span> +th’ sheriff an’ Th’ Orphant in each other? Come +on, out with it!”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” replied Bill, wishing that the +sheriff was at hand to make an appropriate answer. +“Ask him, why don’t you?” he asked, stretching +his neck to ease the hairy, bristling clutch of the +lariat.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yu don’t, an’ yore still cheeky, eh?” cried +the inquisitor. “An’ yu want yore d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d neck +stretched, do yu?”</p> + +<p>He motioned to the man on the horse at the +end of the rope and Bill straightened up and daylight +showed under his heels. As he struggled +there was an interruption from the man who covered +the back trail: “’Nds up!” he cried. “Don’t +move!”</p> + +<p>Tex signalled for Bill to be let down and ran +backward to the opposite side of the defile until +he could see around the turn; and he discovered the +sheriff, who sat quietly under the gun of the cowboy.</p> + +<p>“Stop! Don’t yu even wiggle!” cried the +guard. “I’ll blow yore head off at the first +move!” he added in warning; and for once in his +eventful life Shields knew that he was absolutely +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188'></a>188</span> +helpless, for the time, at least. His hands were +clasped over his sombrero, for it would be tiresome +to hold them out, and he felt that he might have +need of fresh, quick muscles before long.</p> + +<p>“All right, all right, bub,” he responded in perfect +good nature, apparently. “Don’t get nervous +and let that gun go off, for it’s shore your turn +now,” he added, smiling his war smile. “Any particular +thing you want, or are you just practicing +a short cut to eternity?”</p> + +<p>“I want yu to stay just like yu are!” snapped +the man with the drop. “And yu keep yore mouth +shut, too!”</p> + +<p>“Since it’s your last wish, why, it goes,” replied +the sheriff, ignoring the command for silence. +“Got any message for your folks? Any keep-sakes +you’d like to have sent back East? Give me the +address of your folks and I’ll send them your last +words, too.”</p> + +<p>“That’s enough, Sheriff,” said Tex, moving cautiously +forward behind his leveled Colt. “I’ll do +all th’ talkin’ that’s necessary; yu just listen for a +while.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well,” replied the sheriff, grinning and +simulating surprise. “If here ain’t Tex Williard, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189'></a>189</span> +too! What’s your pet psalm, sonny? Good God, +what a face!”</p> + +<p>“What’s that got to do with this?” asked Tex, +intently watching for war.</p> + +<p>“Oh, nothing, nothing at all,” replied the sheriff. +“But, Lord, that cayuse of yours can shore +kick! Was you tickling it? They do go off like +that some times. Any of your nose coming out the +back of your head yet? But to reply to your touching +inquiry, I’ll say that the psalm might work in +handy after while, that’s all. If you’ll only tell +me, I’ll see that it is sung over your grave. But, +honest, how did you get that face?”</p> + +<p>“That’ll just about do for yu!” cried the cowboy, +angrily. “An’ sit still, yu!” he added.</p> + +<p>“Say, bub,” confidentially said Shields, “my +stomach itches like blazes. Can’t I scratch it, just +once?”</p> + +<p>“No! Think I’m a fool!” yelled Tex, his finger +tightening on the trigger. “Yu sit still, +d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n yu!”</p> + +<p>“Well, I only wanted to see just how much of +a fool you really are,” grinned the sheriff exasperatingly. +“Judging from your present position I must +say that I thought you didn’t have any sense at all, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190'></a>190</span> +but now I reckon you’ve got a few brains after all. +But suppose you scratch it for me, hey? Just rub +it easy like with your left paw.”</p> + +<p>Tex swore luridly, too tense to realize what a +fool the sheriff was making of him. He could think +of only one thing at a time, and he was thinking +very hard about the sheriff’s hands.</p> + +<p>“Tut, tut, don’t take it so hard,” jeered the +sheriff, smiling pleasantly. “Now that I know that +you are some rational, suppose you tell me the joke? +What’s the secret? Who skinned his shin? What +in thunder is all this artillery saluting me for?”</p> + +<p>“Since yu want to know, I’ll tell yu, all right,” +replied Tex. “Why are yu an’ Th’ Orphant so +d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d thick? Don’t be all day about it?”</p> + +<p>“You d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d excuse!” responded the sheriff. +“You mere accident! As the poet said, it’s none +of your business! Catch that?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I caught it,” retorted Tex. “I reckon +we needs a new sheriff, an’ d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d soon, too,” he +added venomously.</p> + +<p>“Well, people don’t always get what they +need,” replied Shields easily. “If they did, you +would get yours right now, and good and hard, +too,” he explained, making ready to put up the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191'></a>191</span> +hardest fight of his life. Three men had him covered, +and he knew they would all shoot if he made +a move, for they had placed themselves in a desperate +situation and could not back out now. He +knew that never before had he been in so tight a +hole, but he trusted to luck and his own quickness +to crawl out with a whole skin. If he was killed, +he would have company across the Great Divide; +of that he was certain.</p> + +<p>“I reckon I’ll take yore guns for a while, just +to be doin’ somethin’,” Tex said as he advanced a +step. “Mebby that itch will go away then.”</p> + +<p>“I reckon you’ll be a d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n sight wiser if you +don’t force matters, for they are purty well forced +now,” Shields replied. “No man gets my guns’ +butts first without getting all mussed up inside. +You’ll certainly be doing something if you try it.”</p> + +<p>“Well, then,” compromised Tex, “answer my +question!”</p> + +<p>“And no man gets an answer to a question like +that in words,” the sheriff continued, as if there +had been no interruption. “But I’ll give you and +your white-faced bums a chance for your lives–and +I don’t wonder The Orphan shot up Jimmy, +neither. Put up your wobbling guns and get out +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192'></a>192</span> +of this country as fast as God will let you! If you +ever come back I’ll fill you plumb full of lead! +It’s your move, Lovely Face, and the quicker you +do it the better it’ll be for your health.”</p> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a id='link_i2'></a><img src='images/illus-192.jpg' alt='' /> +<p class='center caption'> +“‘The less you count the longer you’ll live!’ said Shields” (See page 192.) +</p> +</div> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t know about that,” replied Tex +with a leer and swagger. “To a man up a tree +it looks like yu are up agin a buzz saw this time.”</p> + +<p>“To a man on the ground it looks like your tin +buzz saw has hit the hardest knot it ever struck, +and you’ll feel the jar purty soon, too,” Shields +countered, his hazel eyes beginning to grow red. +“You put up that gun and scoot before I blow +your d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d head off!”</p> + +<p>“I’ll give yu ’til I counts three to answer my +question,” Tex said, ignoring the advice. “One!”</p> + +<p>“The less you count the longer you’ll live,” +said Shields, gripping his horse with his knees in +readiness to jump it sideways.</p> + +<p>“Two!”</p> + +<p>“Afternoon, gents,” said a pleasant voice up +above them, and all jumped and looked up. As +they did so Shields jerked his guns loose and +laughed softly: “That itch has plumb gone +away,” he said. “It’s a new deal,” he exulted, his +face wreathed in grins.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193'></a>193</span><a id='link_12'></a>CHAPTER XII<br /><span class='h2fs'>A NEW DEAL ALL AROUND</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>O</span>N the edge of the bank, thirty feet above them, a man squatted on his +heels, his forearms resting easily on his knees. In +each hand was a long-barreled Colt, held in a manner +oppressively businesslike. One of the guns was +leveled at the stomach of the man who guarded +Bill, and who still held the rope; the other covered +the man who had baited the sheriff. Shields took +care of the remaining two. One of the newcomer’s +eyes was half closed, squinting to keep out the +smoke which curled up from the cigarette which +protruded jauntily from a corner of his mouth. If +anything was needed to strengthen the air of pertness +of the man above it was supplied by his sombrero, +which sat rakishly over one ear. A quizzical +grin flickered across his face and the cigarette +bobbed recklessly when he laughed.</p> + +<p>“Was you counting?” he asked of Tex in anxious +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194'></a>194</span> +inquiry. “And for God’s sake, who stepped +on your face?”</p> + +<p>Tex made no reply, for his astonishment at the +interruption had given way to the iron hand of +fear which gripped him almost to suffocation. In +the space of one breath he had been hurled from +the mastery to defeat; from a good fighting chance, +with all the odds on his side, to what he believed +to be certain death, for to move was to die. Had +it been anyone but The Orphan who had turned the +scale he would have hazarded a shot and trusted +to luck, for his gun was in his hand; but The +Orphan’s gunplay was as swift as light and never +missed at that distance, and The Orphan’s reputation +was a host in itself. He had threatened the +sheriff with death, he had used Bill worse than he +would have used a dog, and now his cup of bitterness +was full to overflowing. Above him a pair of +cruel gray eyes looked over a sight into his very +soul and a malevolent grin played about the thin, +straight lips of the man who had killed Jimmy, +who had led his five friends to an awful death, and +who had instilled terror night after night into the +hearts of seven good men. His mind leaped back +to a day ten years before, and what he saw caused +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195'></a>195</span> +his face to blanch. Ten years of immunity, but at +last he was to pay for his crime. Before him +stood the son of the man he had been foremost in +hanging, before him stood the man he had cruelly +wronged. His nerve left him and he stood a +broken, trembling coward, a living lie to the occupation +he had made his own, an insult to his dress +and his companions. Had he by some miracle +been given the drop he could not have pulled the +trigger. He now had no hope for mercy where he +had denied it. He had played a good hand, but he +had made no allowance for the joker, and no blame +to him.</p> + +<p>No sooner had The Orphan spoken and the +sheriff discovered that he had things safely in his +hands, than Shields had leaped to the ground and +quickly disarmed his opponents, tossing the captured +weapons to the top of the bank near the outlaw. +Then he folded his arms and waited, laughing +silently all the while.</p> + +<p>As soon as Shields had disposed of the last gun, +The Orphan gave his whole attention to the man +who was guarding Bill, and that person changed +the course of his hand just in time.</p> + +<p>“No, I wouldn’t try to use that gun, neither, if +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196'></a>196</span> +I was you,” The Orphan said, still smiling. “You +can just toss it up on the bank over your head–that’s +right. Now drop that rope–I’m surprised +that you didn’t do it before. When you get Bill +all untangled from those fixings come right around +here, where I can see how nice you all look in a +bunch. It’ll take you one whole minute to get out +of sight around that turn, so I wouldn’t try any +running.”</p> + +<p>The Orphan was ignorant of the condition of +Bill’s face, since he had only seen the driver’s back +as he had crawled to the edge of the bank, and +now the bend in the opposite wall just hid Bill from +his sight. So he gave no great attention to the +driver, but turned to the sheriff and laughed.</p> + +<p>“I knew that you would pull through, Sheriff,” +he said, “but I couldn’t help having a surprise +party; I’m a whole lot fond of surprise parties, you +know. And it’s shore been a howling success, all +right.”</p> + +<p>“You have a very pleasant way of making yourself +useful,” Shields replied. “From the holes +you’ve pulled me out of within the past six weeks +you must have a poor impression of me. But seeing +that you have reason to laugh at me, I accept +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197'></a>197</span> +your apology and bid you welcome. It’s all +yours.” Then he glanced quickly up the trail and +his face went red with anger. “Hell!” he cried +in amazement.</p> + +<p>The Orphan looked in the direction indicated +and he leaped to his feet in sudden anger at what +he saw. A man, followed by a cowboy, staggered +and stumbled drunkenly along the trail toward +them, his face a mass of cuts and bruises and blood. +His hair was matted with blood and dirt, and a +red ring showed around his neck. His hands +opened and shut convulsively and he made straight +as he could for Tex, who shrank back involuntarily.</p> + +<p>“My God! It’s Bill!” cried The Orphan, +hardly able to believe his eyes.</p> + +<p>“You’re the cur <i>I</i> want!” Bill muttered brokenly +to Tex, straightening up and becoming rapidly +steadier under the stimulus of his rage. “You’re +the <span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span> <i>I</i> want, d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n you!” he repeated as he +slowly advanced. “It’s my turn now, you cur! +Lynch me, would you? Lynch me, eh? Tried to +hit me when I was tied, eh? Sicked your dogs on +me, eh? Keep still, d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n you–you can’t get +away!” he cried as Tex moved backward.</p> + +<p>“Stand to it like a man, or I’ll blow your head +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198'></a>198</span> +off!” cried The Orphan from his perch. “Go on, +Bill!”</p> + +<p>“You said you wanted me, didn’t you? Do +you still want me?” he asked, not hearing The +Orphan’s words. “Are you still curious?” he +asked, backing Tex into a corner.</p> + +<p>“Hash him up, Bill!” cried the man above, +and then, “Hey, wait a minute–I want to see +this,” he added as he slid down the bank. “Go +ahead with the slaughter–push his head off!”</p> + +<p>Bill’s one hundred and eighty pounds of muscle +and rage suddenly hurled itself forward behind a +huge fist and Tex hit the bank and careened into +the dust of the trail, unconscious before he had +moved.</p> + +<p>“I told you you wasn’t man enough to play a +lone hand!” yelled the driver as he leaped after +his victim. But he was stopped by the sheriff, who +sprang forward and deflected him from his course.</p> + +<p>“That’s enough–no killing!” Shields cried, +regaining his balance and swiftly interposing himself +between the driver and Tex.</p> + +<p>Bill didn’t hear him, for he had just caught sight +of the man who had told him to warble, and he +lost no time in getting to him. A few quick blows +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199'></a>199</span> +and the enraged driver left his second victim face +down in the dirt and passed on to the man who had +held the rope.</p> + +<p>“Hurrah for Bill!” yelled The Orphan, hopping +first on one foot and then on the other in his +joy. “Set ’em up in the other alley! I didn’t +know you had it in you, Bill! Good boy!” he +shouted as Bill clinched with the third cowboy. +“Oh, that was a beauty! Right on the nose–oh, +what a whopper to get on the jaw! Whoop her +up! Fine, fine!” he laughed as Bill dropped his +man. “‘And subsequent proceedings interested +<i>him</i> no more!’ Next!” he cried as Bill wheeled +on the last of the group. “Eat him up, Bill!–that’s +the way! Just above the belt for his–Good! +All down!” he yelled madly as Bill, drawing +his arm back from the stomach of the falling +puncher, sent a swift uppercut hissing to the jaw. +“You lifted him five feet, Bill,” The Orphan +exulted as Bill wheeled for more worlds to conquer.</p> + +<p>“Where’s the rest of the gang?” savagely +yelled the driver, looking twice at The Orphan +before he was sure of his identity. “Where’s the +rest of ’em?” he shouted again, running around +the bend in hot search. “Come out and fight, you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200'></a>200</span> +cowards!” they heard him cry, and straightway +the outlaw and the guardian of the law clung to +each other for support as they cried with joy.</p> + +<p>As Bill hurried back to the field of carnage one +of his victims was mechanically striving to gain his +hands and knees, to go down in a quivering heap +by a blow from the insane victor. As Bill drew +back his foot to finish his work, Shields broke from +his companion and leaped forward just in time to +hurl Bill back several steps. “D<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n you!” he +cried, standing over the prostrate figure, “If you +hit another man while he’s down I’ll trim you +right! Cool down and get some sense before I +punch it into you!”</p> + +<p>The Orphan, leaning limply against the bank +of the defile, was making foolish motions with his +hands, which still held the Colts, and was babbling +idiotically, tears of laughter streaming down +his face and dripping from his chin. His eyes +were closed and he was bent over, rocking to and +fro against the wall.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Lord!” he sobbed senselessly. “Oh, +Lord, oh, Lord! Let me die in peace! Take him +away, take him away! Let me die in peace!”</p> + +<p>“I’m a fine sight to hit Sagetown, ain’t I?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201'></a>201</span> +yelled Bill, keeping keen watch on the four prostrate +punchers. “They’ll think I was licked! +They’ll point to my face and head and swear that +some papoose kicked the stuffing outen me! That’s +what they’ll do! But I’ll show them, all right! +I’ll just take my game with me and prove that I +am the best man, that’s what I’ll do! I’ll pile ’em +in the coach and lug ’em with me!” grabbing, as +he finished, one of the men by the foot and dragging +him toward the stage. It took The Orphan +and Shields several strenuous minutes to dissuade +him from his purpose. Shields placed his fingers +on the bones of Bill’s hand in a peculiar grip, and +the driver loosened his hold without loss of time.</p> + +<p>“You go back to town and get fixed up,” ordered +the sheriff. “I’ll take your team out of +this and turn them around, and then come back +for you. Charley can make the trip if you can’t. +I would do it myself, only I’ve got to tell Sneed +that he’s shy four more men.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll turn ’em around myself–I ain’t hurt,” +asserted Bill with decision. “And when I get +patched up I’ll make the trip, Pop Westley or no +Pop Westley. And I’ll lick the whole blamed +town, too, if they get fresh about my face! I’m a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202'></a>202</span> +fighter from Fightersville, I am! I’m a man-eating +bad-man, I am! I can lick anything that +ever walked on hind legs, I can!” and he glared +as if anxious to prove his words.</p> + +<p>After the cowboys regained consciousness and +got so they could stand, the sheriff lined them up +with their backs to the wall and gave them the +guns which The Orphan had obtained for him. +The outlaw held them covered while the sheriff +told them what they were, and he wound up his +lecture with instructions and a warning.</p> + +<p>“Get out of this country and don’t never come +back!” he told them. “I don’t care where you +go, so long as you go right now. If you even +show your faces in these parts again I’ll shoot first +and talk after.”</p> + +<p>“Same here!” endorsed The Orphan, frowning +down his desire to laugh at the wrecks in front +of him.</p> + +<p>“I’ll kill you next time!” shouted Bill, prancing +uneasily.</p> + +<p>“The cayuses are yours,” continued the sheriff. +“I’ll settle with Sneed if he has the gall to ask +about them. Now git!”</p> + +<p>Tex stared first at the sheriff and then at The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203'></a>203</span> +Orphan and Bill as if doubting his ears. He was +ten years nearer the grave than he had been before +The Orphan had interrupted his counting. In less +than half an hour he had gone through hell, and +now he suddenly burst into tears from the reaction +and staggered to his horse, which he finally managed +to mount, a nervous wreck. “Oh, God!” +he moaned, “Oh, God!”</p> + +<p>The others stared at him in amazement until he +had turned the bend, and then his companions +slowly followed him and were lost to sight.</p> + +<p>“D<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n near dead from fright!” ejaculated +the sheriff. “I never saw anybody go to pieces +so bad!”</p> + +<p>“He shore lost his nerve all right, all right,” +responded The Orphan. Then he turned to where +Bill stood looking after them: “Bill, you’re all +right–you can fight like h–l!”</p> + +<p>Bill slowly turned and grinned through the +blood: “Oh, that wasn’t nothing–you should +oughter see me when I get real mad!”</p> + +<p style='letter-spacing:4em; text-align: center; margin: 10px auto;'>·····</p> + +<p>Two men rode side by side after a lurching +coach on their way toward the Limping Water, +both buried in thought at what the driver had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204'></a>204</span> +told them. As they emerged from the defile and +left the Backbone behind, the elder looked keenly, +almost affectionately, at his companion and placed +a kindly hand on the shoulder of the man who had +turned the balance, breaking the long silence.</p> + +<p>“Son, why don’t you get a job punching cows, +or something, and quit your d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d foolishness?” +he bluntly asked.</p> + +<p>The younger man thought for a space, and a +woman’s words directed his reply:</p> + +<p>“I’ve thought of that, and I’d like to do it,” he +said earnestly. “But, pshaw, who will give me a +try in this country?” he asked bitterly. Then he +added softly: “And I won’t leave these parts, not +now.”</p> + +<p>“You won’t have to leave the country,” replied +the sheriff. “Why not try Blake, of the Star C?” +he asked. “Blake is a shore square man, and he’s +a good friend of mine, too.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I reckon he is square,” replied The +Orphan. “But he won’t take no stock in me, not +a bit.”</p> + +<p>“Tell him that you’re a friend of mine, and +that I sent you to punch for him, and see,” responded +Shields, examining his cinch.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205'></a>205</span>“Do you mean that, Sheriff?” the other cried +in surprise.</p> + +<p>“Hell, yes!” answered Shields gruffly. “I’ll +give you a note to him, and if you watch your +business you’ll be his right-hand man in a month. +I ain’t making any mistake.”</p> + +<p>“By God, I’ll do it!” cried the outlaw. +“You’re all right, Sheriff!”</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t know about that,” replied +Shields, grinning broadly. “Mebby I just can’t +see the use of us shooting each other up, and that +is what it will come to if things go on as they are, +you know. I’d a blamed sight rather have you +behaving yourself with Blake than bothering me +with your fool nonsense and raising the devil all +the time. Why, it’s got so that every place I go +I sort of looks for flower pots!”</p> + +<p>The Orphan laughed: “I shore had a fine time +that night!”</p> + +<p>When half way to the Limping Water the +sheriff said good-by to Bill and wheeled, facing in +the direction of the Cross Bar-8.</p> + +<p>“Orphan, you wait for me at the ford,” he +said. “I’m going up to break the news to Sneed, +and I’ll get paper and pencil while I’m there, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206'></a>206</span> +write a note to Blake. I’ll get back as quick as +I can–so long.”</p> + +<p>“So long, and good luck,” replied The Orphan, +heartily shaking hands with his new friend.</p> + +<p>Shields loped away and arrived at the ranch as +Sneed was carrying water to the cook shack.</p> + +<p>“Hullo, Sneed! Playing cook?” he said, pulling +in to a stop.</p> + +<p>“I’ll play <i>on</i> the cook if I ever get my hands on +him,” replied Sneed, setting the pail down. “Well, +what’s new? Seen Tex and the other three? I’ll +play on <i>them</i>, too, when they gets home! Off +playing hookey from work when we all of us aches +from double shifts–oh, just wait till I sees ’em +sneaking in to bed! Just wait!”</p> + +<p>“You ought to give ’em all a good thrashing, +they need it,” replied the sheriff, and then he +asked: “Got any paper, and a pencil?” He +wanted his needs supplied before he broke the +news, for then he might not get them.</p> + +<p>“Shore as you live I have,” answered the foreman, +picking up the pail and starting toward the +bunk-house. “Come in and wet the dust–it’s hot +out here.”</p> + +<p>“Let me have the paper first–I want to scrawl +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207'></a>207</span> +a note before I forget about it,” the sheriff responded +as he seated himself on a bunk and looked +critically about him at the bullet-riddled walls and +pictures.</p> + +<p>Sneed handed him an ink bottle and placed a +piece of wrapping paper and a corroded pen on +the table.</p> + +<p>“That paper ain’t for love letters, the ink is +mud, and the pen’s a brush, but I reckon you can +make tracks, all right,” the host remarked as he +pushed a bench up to the table for his guest. “And +if them punchers don’t make tracks for home purty +lively, I’ll salt their hides and peg ’em on the wall +to cure,” he grumbled, rummaging for a bottle +and cup. When he placed the tin cup on the table +he grinned foolishly, for it was plugged with a +cork. “D<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d outlaw!” he grunted.</p> + +<p>“There,” remarked the sheriff, fanning the note +in the air. “That’s done, if it’ll ever dry.”</p> + +<p>“Blow on it,” suggested Sneed, and then smiled.</p> + +<p>“Here, wait a minute,” he said, stepping to the +door, where he scooped up a handful of sand. +“Throw this on it–it can’t get no muddier, +anyhow.”</p> + +<p>Shields carefully folded the missive and tucked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208'></a>208</span> +it in his hip pocket, and then he looked up at the +foreman.</p> + +<p>“Sneed,” he slowly began, “your punchers ain’t +never coming back.”</p> + +<p>“What!” yelled the foreman, leaping to his +feet, and having visions of his men being cut up +by outlaws and Indians.</p> + +<p>“Nope,” replied Shields with an air of finality. +“Bill Howland gave them the most awful beating +up that I ever saw men get, the whole four of +them, too! When he got through with them I +took a hand and ordered them to get out of the +country, and I told them that if they ever came +back I’d shoot on sight, and I will.”</p> + +<p>Sneed’s rage was pathetic, and was not induced +by the beating his men had received, nor by the +sheriff’s orders, but because it left him only three +men to work a ranch which needed twelve. As +he listened to the sheriff’s story he paced back and +forth in the small room and swore luridly, kicking +at everything in sight, except the sheriff. Then he +cooled down, spread his feet far apart and stared +at Shields.</p> + +<p>“Why didn’t you kill ’em, the d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d fools?” +he cried. “That’s what they deserved!” Then +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209'></a>209</span> +he paused. “But what am I going to do?” he +asked. “Where’ll I get men, and what’ll I do ’til +I do get ’em?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll send Charley and half a dozen of the boys +out from town to stay with you ’til you get some +others,” replied the sheriff, walking toward the +door. “And you might tell the three that are left +that I’ll kill the next man who tries that kind of +work in this country. I’m getting good and tired +of it. So long.”</p> + +<p>Sneed didn’t hear him, but sat with his head in +his hands for several minutes after the sheriff had +gone, swearing fluently.</p> + +<p>“Orphan h–l!” he yelled as he picked up +the water pail and stamped to the cook shack.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210'></a>210</span><a id='link_13'></a>CHAPTER XIII<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE STAR C GIVES WELCOME</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>T</span>HE Limping Water, within a mile after it passed Ford’s Station, turned +abruptly and flowed almost due west for thirty +miles, where it again proceeded southward. At +the second bend stood the ranch houses and corrals +of the Star C, in a country rich in grass and water. +Its cows numbered far into the thousands and its +horses were the best for miles around, while the +whole ranch had an air of opulence and plenty. +Its ranch house was a curiosity, for even now there +were lace curtains in some of the windows, badly +torn and soiled, but still lace curtains; and on the +floors of several rooms were thick carpets, now +covered with dust and riding paraphernalia. Oddly +shaped and badly scratched chairs were piled high +with accumulated trash, and the few gilt-framed +paintings which graced the walls were hanging +awry and were torn and scratched. At one time +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211'></a>211</span> +an Eastern woman had tried to live there, but that +was when the owner of the ranch and his wife had +been enthusiasts. New York regained and kept +its own, and they now would rather receive quarterly +reports by mail than daily reports in person. +The foreman and his wolf hounds reigned supreme, +not at all bothered by the stiff furniture and lace +curtains, because he would rather be comfortable +than stylish, and so lived in two rooms which he +had fitted up to his ideas. Carpets and two-inch +spurs cause profanity and ravelings, and as for pictures, +they have a most annoying way of tilting +when one hangs a six-shooter on one corner of the +frame, and they are so inviting that one is constantly +forgetting. So the unstable pictures, the +dress-parade chairs, bothersome curtains and +clutching carpets were left under the dust.</p> + +<p>The Star C, being in a part of the country little +traversed and crossed by no trails, was removed +from the zone of The Orphan’s activities and had +no cause for animosity, save that induced by his +reputation. Several of its punchers had seen him, +and all were well versed in his exploits, for frequently +Ford’s Station shared its hospitality with +one or more of them; and in Ford’s Station at that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212'></a>212</span> +time The Orphan was the chief topic of conversation +and the bone of contention. But the foreman +of the Star C would not know him if he should +see him, unless by intuition.</p> + +<p>Blake was a man much after the pattern of +Shields in his ideas, and the two were warm friends +and had roughed it together when Ford’s Station +had only been an adobe hut. Their affection for +each other was of the stern, silent kind, which seldom +betrayed itself directly in words, and they +could ride together for hours in an understanding +silence and never weary of the companionship; and +when need was, deeds spoke for them. The Cross +Bar-8 would have had more than Ford’s Station +to fight if it had declared war on the sheriff, which +the Cross Bar-8 knew. The three cleverest manipulators +of weapons in that section, in the order of +their merit, were The Orphan, Shields and Blake, +which also the Cross Bar-8 knew.</p> + +<p>The foreman of the Star C rode at a walk +toward a distant point of his dominions and cogitated +as to whether he could ride over to Ford’s +Station that night to see the sheriff. It was a +matter of sixty miles for the round trip, but it +might have been sixty blocks, so far as the distance +troubled him. He had just decided to make the +trip and to spend a pleasant hour with his friend, +and drink some of the delicious coffee which Mrs. +Shields always made for him and eat one of her +prize pies, or some of her light ginger bread, when +he descried a horseman coming toward him at a +lope.</p> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a id='link_i3'></a><img src='images/illus-214.jpg' alt='' /> +<p class='center caption'> +The Orphan gives Blake Shields’ note. (<i>See page</i> 213.) +</p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213'></a>213</span>The newcomer was a stranger to Blake and +appeared to be a young man, which was of no +consequence. But the thing which attracted more +than a casual glance from the foreman was a certain +jaunty, reckless air about the man which spoke +well for the condition of his nerves and liver.</p> + +<p>The stranger approached to within a rod of +Blake before he spoke, and then he slowed down +and nodded, but with wide-eyed alertness.</p> + +<p>“Howdy,” he said. “Are you the foreman of +the Star C?”</p> + +<p>“Howdy. I am,” replied the foreman.</p> + +<p>“Then I reckon this is yours,” said the stranger, +holding out a bit of straw-colored paper.</p> + +<p>The foreman took it and slowly read it. When +he had finished reading he turned it over to see +if there was anything on the back, and then stuck +it in his pocket and looked up casually.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214'></a>214</span>“Are you The Orphan?” he asked, with no +more interest than he would have displayed if he +had asked about the weather.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” replied The Orphan, nonchalantly rolling +another cigarette.</p> + +<p>“How is the sheriff?” Blake asked.</p> + +<p>“Shore well enough, but a little mad about the +Cross Bar-8,” answered the other as he inhaled +deeply and with much satisfaction. “He said +there was some good coffee waiting for you to-night +if you wanted it,” he added.</p> + +<p>“Did he?” asked Blake, grinning his delight.</p> + +<p>“Yes, and some–apricot pie,” added The +Orphan wistfully.</p> + +<p>Blake laughed: “Well, I reckon I’ve got some +business over in town to-night, so you keep on +going ’til you get to the bunk house. Tell Lee +Lung to rustle the grub lively–I’ll be there right +after you. Apricot pie!” he chuckled as he pushed +on at a lope.</p> + +<p>Jim Carter was washing for supper, being urged +to show more speed by Bud Taylor, when the latter +looked up and saw The Orphan dismount. His +mouth opened a trifle, but he continued his urging +without a break. He had seen The Orphan at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215'></a>215</span> +Ace High the year before, when the outlaw had +ridden in for a supply of cartridges, and he +instantly recalled the face. But Bud was not only +easy-going, but also very hungry at the time, and +he didn’t care if the devil himself called as long +as the devil respected the etiquette of the range. +Besides, if there was to be trouble it would rest +more comfortably on a full stomach.</p> + +<p>“Give me a quit-claim to that pan, yu coyote,” +he said pleasantly to Jim. “Yu ain’t taking no +bath!”</p> + +<p>“Blub–no I ain’t–blub blub–but you will +be–blub–if yu don’t lemme alone,” came from +the pan. “Hand me that towel!”</p> + +<p>“Don’t wallow in it, yu!” admonished Bud as +he refilled the basin. “Leave some dry spots for +me, this time.”</p> + +<p>Jim carefully hung the towel on a peg in the +wall of the house and then noticed the stranger, +who was removing his saddle.</p> + +<p>“Howdy, stranger!” he said heartily. “Just +in time to feed. Coax some of that water from +Bud, but get holt of the towel first, for there won’t +be none left soon.”</p> + +<p>The Orphan laughed and dusted his chaps.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216'></a>216</span>“Where’ll I find Lee Lung?” he asked. +“Blake wants him to rustle the grub lively.”</p> + +<p>“He’s in the cook shack behind the house +a-doing it and trying to sing,” replied Jim. “He’s +always trying to sing; it goes something like this: +Hop-lee, low-hop yum-see,” he hummed in a +monotonous wail as he combed his hair before a +broken bit of mirror stuck in a crack. “Hi-dee, +hee-hee, chop-chop<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“Gimme that comb, yu heathen Chinee,” cried +Bud, “and don’t make that noise.”</p> + +<p>“Anything else yu wants?” asked Jim, deliberately +putting the comb away in the box.</p> + +<p>“I want to be in Kansas City with a million +dollars and a whopper of a thirst,” replied Bud as +he filled the basin for the stranger. “It’s all +yourn, stranger. Grub’s waiting for yu inside when +yore ready.”</p> + +<p>“Do yu know who that feller is?” Bud asked +in a whisper as they made their way to the table, +from which came much laughter. “That’s The +Orphant,” he added.</p> + +<p>“Th’ h–l it is!” said Jim. “Him? Him +Th’ Orphant? Tell another! I’m more than six +years old, even if yu ain’t.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217'></a>217</span>“That’s straight, fellers!” said Bud to the +assembled outfit in a low voice. “I ain’t kidding +yu none, honest. I saw him up to Ace High last +year. That’s him, all right. Wait ’til he comes +in and see!”</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t care if he’s Jonah,” responded +Jim. “Only I reckons you’re plumb loco, all the +same. But I’m too hungry to care if Gabriel +blows if I can fill up before these Oliver Twists +eats it all up,” he said, revealing his last reading +matter.</p> + +<p>“He shore enough wears his gun plumb low–and +the holster is tied to his chaps, too,” muttered +Jim as he seated himself at the table. “So would +I, too, if I was him. Pass them murphys, Humble,” +he ordered.</p> + +<p>“You has got to bust that piebald pet what +you’ve been keeping around the house to-morrow, +Humble,” exulted the man nearest to him. “And +it’ll shore be a circus watching you do it, too!”</p> + +<p>The blankets which divided the bunk house into +two rooms were pushed aside and The Orphan +entered, carrying his saddle and bridle, which he +placed beside the others on the floor. Then he +unbuckled his belts and hung them, Colts and all, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218'></a>218</span> +over the pommel, which was etiquette and which +gave assurance that the guest was not hunting anyone. +Then he seated himself at the table in a chair +which Humble pushed back for him. His entry +in no degree caused a lull in the conversation.</p> + +<p>“Well, you hasn’t got no kick coming, has +you?” asked Humble. “Hey, Cookie!” he +shouted into the dark gallery which led to the cook +shack. “Rustle in some more fixings for another +place, and bring in the slush!” Then he turned +to his tormentor: “You has allus got something +to say about my business, ain’t you, hey?”</p> + +<p>“Sic ’em, Humble!” said Silent Allen. “Go +for him!”</p> + +<p>From the gallery came sounds of calamity and +then a mongrel dog shot out and collided with the +table, glancing off it and under the curtain in his +haste to gain the outside world. A second later +the cook, his face fiendish, grasping a huge knife, +followed the dog out on the plain. Those eating +sprang to their feet and streamed after the cook, +yelling encouragement to their favorite.</p> + +<p>“Go it, Old Woman!” “’Ray for Cookie!” +“Beat him out, Lightning!” and other expressions +met Blake as he came up from the corral.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219'></a>219</span>“Cook got ’em again?” he asked, elbowing his +way into the house. “I told you to keep liquor +away from him.”</p> + +<p>“’Tain’t liquor this time; it’s th’ kioodle,” replied +Docile Thomas as he led the way back to the +table. “Him an’ th’ dog don’t mix extra well.”</p> + +<p>Blake swept aside the blanket and saw The +Orphan standing by the window and laughing. +Turning, he disappeared into the gallery and soon +returned with a tin plate, a steel knife, a tin cup +and the coffee pot.</p> + +<p>“Sit down–good Lord, they would let a man +starve,” he said, roughly clearing a place at the +table for the new arrival. “I don’t know how +you feel,” he continued, “but I’m so all-fired hungry +that I don’t know whether it’s my back or +stomach that hurts. Take some beef and throw +those potatoes down this way. Here, have some +slush,” filling The Orphan’s cup with coffee. +“This ain’t like the coffee the sheriff drinks, but it +is just a little bit better than nothing. You see, +Cook’s all right, only he can’t cook, never could +and never will. But he’s a whole lot better than +a sailor I once suffered under.”</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter between you and Lightning, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220'></a>220</span> +Lee?” asked Bud as the cook passed by the +table on his way to the shack.</p> + +<p>“Wouldn’t he drink yore slush? I allus said +some dogs was smart,” laughed Jack Lawson.</p> + +<p>Lee’s smile was bland. “Scalpee th’ dlog,” he +asserted as he disappeared. “No dlamn good!” +wafted from the gallery.</p> + +<p>“Say, Humble,” said Silent Allen in an aggrieved +tone, “the beef will wag its tail some night +if you don’t shoot that cur!”</p> + +<p>“That’s right!” endorsed Jack. “I’ll shoot +him for a dollar,” he added hopefully. “The +boys will all chip in to make up the purse and it +won’t cost you a cent, not even a cartridge.”</p> + +<p>“Anybody that don’t like that setter can +move,” responded Humble with decision. “He’s +a O. K. dog, that’s what he is,” he added loyally.</p> + +<p>“Well, he’s a setter, all right,” laughed Silent. +“He ain’t good for nothing else but to set around +all day in the shade and chew hisself up.”</p> + +<p>“He ain’t, ain’t he?” cried Humble, delaying +the morsel on his fork in mid-air. “You ought +to see him a-chasing coyotes!”</p> + +<p>“I did see him chasing coyotes, and that’s why +I want you to have him killed,” replied Silent, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221'></a>221</span> +grinning. “His feet are too big. Every time he +shoves his hind feet between the front ones he +throws hisself.”</p> + +<p>“What did he ever catch except fleas and the +mange?” asked Blake, winking at The Orphan, +who was extremely busy burying his hunger.</p> + +<p>“What did he ever catch!” indignantly cried +Humble, dropping his fork. “You saw him catch +that gray wolf over near the timber, and you can’t +deny it, neither!”</p> + +<p>“By George, he did!” exclaimed Blake seriously. +“You’re right this time, Humble, he did. +But he let go awful sudden. Besides, that gray +wolf you’re talking about was a coyote, and he +would have died of old age in another week if you +hadn’t shot him to save the dog. And, what’s +more, I never saw him chase anything since, not +even rabbits.”</p> + +<p>“He caught my boot one night,” remarked +Charley Bailey, reflectively, “right plumb on his +near eye. Oh, he’s a catcher, all right.”</p> + +<p>“He’s so good he ought to be stuffed, then he +could sit without having to move around catching +boots and things,” said Jim. “Why don’t you +have him stuffed, Humble?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222'></a>222</span>“Oh, yore a whole lot smart, now ain’t you?” +blazed the persecuted puncher, glaring at his tormentors.</p> + +<p>“He can’t catch his tail, Silent,” offered Bud. +“I once saw him trying to do it for ten minutes–he +looked like a pinwheel what we used to have +when we were kids. Missed it every time, and all +he got was a cheap drunk.”</p> + +<p>Humble said a few things which came out so +fast that they jammed up, and he left the room to +hunt for his dog.</p> + +<p>“Any particular reason why you call him Lightning, +or is it just irony?” asked The Orphan as he +helped himself to the beef for the third time. “I +never heard that name used before.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it ain’t irony at all!” hastily denied the +foreman. “That’s a real good name, fits him +all right,” he assured. Then he explained: “You +see, lightning don’t hit twice in the same place, and +neither can the dog when he scratches himself. +And, besides, he can dodge awful quick. You +have to figure which way he’ll jump when you +want him to catch anything.”</p> + +<p>“But you don’t have to remember his name at +all, Stranger,” interposed Silent, who was not at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223'></a>223</span> +all silent. “Any handle will do, if you only yells. +Every time anybody yells he makes a crow line for +the plain and howls at every jump. He’s got a +regular, shore enough trail worn where he makes +his get-away.”</p> + +<p>Silence descended over the table, and for a quarter +of an hour only the click of eating utensils +could be heard. At the end of that time Blake +pushed back his chair and arose. He glanced +around the table and then spoke very distinctly: +“Well, Orphan, get acquainted with your outfit.” +A head or two raised at the name, but that seemed +to be all the effect of his words. “The boys will +put you onto the game in the morning, and Bud +will show you where to begin in case I don’t show +up in time. Better take a fresh cayuse and let yours +rest up some. Don’t hurt Humble’s ki-yi and +he’ll be plumb nice to you; and if Silent wants to +know how you likes his singing and banjo playing, +lie and say it’s fine.”</p> + +<p>The laugh went around and all was serene with +the good fellowship which is so often found in +good outfits.</p> + +<p>“Joe, I’ll bring the mail out with me, so you +needn’t go after it,” continued the foreman as he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224'></a>224</span> +strode towards the door. “That’s what I’m going +over for,” he laughed.</p> + +<p>“Lord, I’d go, too, if pie and cake and good +coffee was on the card,” laughed Silent.</p> + +<p>“We’ll shore have to go over in a gang some +night and raid that pantry,” remarked Bud. “It +would be a circus, all right.”</p> + +<p>“The sheriff would get some good target practice, +that’s shore,” responded Blake. “But I’ve +got something better than that, and since you +brought the subject up I’ll tell you now, so you’ll +be good.</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Shields has promised to get up a fine feed +for you fellows as soon as Jim’s sisters are on hand +to help her, and as they are here now I wouldn’t +be a whole lot surprised if I brought the invitation +back with me. How’s that for a change, eh?” +he asked.</p> + +<p>“Glory be!” cried Silent. “Hurry up and get +home!”</p> + +<p>“Say, she’s all right, ain’t she!” shouted Jack, +executing a jig to show how glad he was.</p> + +<p>“Pinch me, Humble, pinch me!” begged Bud. +“I may be asleep and dreaming–<i>here!</i> What the +devil do you think I am, you wart-headed coyote!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225'></a>225</span> +he yelled, dancing in pain and rubbing his leg +frantically. “You blamed doodle bug, yu!”</p> + +<p>“Well, I pinched you, didn’t I?” indignantly +cried Humble. “What’s eating you? Didn’t you +ask me to, you chump?”</p> + +<p>“Hurry up and get that mail, Tom,” cried Jim. +“It might spoil–and say, if she leads at you with +that invite, clinch!”</p> + +<p>Blake laughed and went off toward the corral. +As he found the horse he wished to ride he heard +a riot in the bunk-house and he laughed silently. +A Virginia reel was in full swing and the noise was +terrible. Riding past the window, he saw Silent +working like a madman at his banjo; and assiduously +playing a harmonica was The Orphan, all +smiles and puffed-out cheeks.</p> + +<p>“Well, The Orphan is all right now,” the foreman +muttered as he swung out on the trail to +Ford’s Station. “I reckon he’s found himself.”</p> + +<p>In the bunk-house there was much hilarity, and +laughter roared continually at the grotesque gymnastics +of the reel and at the sharp wit which cut +right and left, respecting no one save the new member +of the outfit, and eventually he came in for his +share, which he repaid with interest. Suddenly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226'></a>226</span> +Jim, catching his spurs in a bear-skin rug which +lay near a bunk, threw out his arms to save himself +and then went sprawling to the floor. The +uproar increased suddenly, and as it died down +Jim could be heard complaining.</p> + +<p>“<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span> <span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>!” he cried as he nursed his knee. +“I’ve had that pelt for nigh onto three years and +regularly I go and get tangled up with it. It shore +beats all how I plumb forget its habit of wrapping +itself around them rowels, what are too big, anyhow. +And it ain’t a big one at that, only about +half as big as the one I got for a tenderfoot up in +Montanny,” he deprecated in disgust.</p> + +<p>The outfit scented a story and became suddenly +quiet.</p> + +<p>“Dod-blasted postage stamp of a pelt,” he +grumbled as he threw it into his bunk.</p> + +<p>“The other skin couldn’t ’a’ been much bigger +than that one,” said Bud, leading him on. “How +big was it, anyhow, Jim?”</p> + +<p>“It couldn’t, hey? It came off a nine-foot +grizzly, that’s how big it was,” retorted Jim, sitting +down and filling his pipe. “Nine whole feet +from stub of tail to snoot, plumb full of cussedness, +too.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227'></a>227</span>“How’d you get it–Sharps?” queried Charley.</p> + +<p>“No, Colt,” responded Jim. “Luckiest shot <i>I</i> +ever made, all right. I shore had visions of wearing +wings when I pulled the trigger. Just one of +them lucky shots a man will make sometimes.”</p> + +<p>“Give us the story, Jim,” suggested Silent, settling +himself easily in his bunk. “Then we’ll have +another smoke and go right to bed. I’m some +sleepy.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” began Jim after his pipe was going +well, “I was sort of second foreman for the Tadpole, +up in Montanny, about six years ago. I had +a good foreman, a good ranch and about a dozen +white punchers to look after. And we had a real +cook, no mistake about that, all right.</p> + +<p>“The Old Man hibernated in New York during +the winter and came out every spring right after +the calf round-up was over to see how we was fixed +and to eat some of the cook’s flapjacks. That cook +wasn’t no yaller-skinned post for a hair clothes line, +like this grinning monkey what we’ve got here. +The Old Man was a fine old cuss–one of the boys, +and a darn good one, too–and we was always +plumb glad to see him. He minded his own business, +didn’t tell us how we ought to punch cows and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228'></a>228</span> +didn’t bother anybody what didn’t want to be +bothered, which we most of us did like.</p> + +<p>“Well, one day Jed Thompson, who rustled +our mail for us twice a month, handed me a letter +for the foreman, who was down South and +wouldn’t be back for some time. His mother had +died and he went back home for a spell. I saw +that the letter was from the Old Man, and wondered +what it would say. I sort of figured that it +would tell us when to hitch up to the buckboard +and go after him. Fearing that he might land +before the foreman got back, I went and opened +it up.</p> + +<p>“It was from the Old Man, all right, but it was +no go for him that spring. He was sick abed in +New York, and said as how he was plumb sorry +he couldn’t get out to see his boys, and so was we +sorry. But he said as how he was sending us a +friend of his’n who wanted to go hunting, and +would we see that he didn’t shoot no cows. We +said we would, and then I went on and found out +when this hunter was due to land.</p> + +<p>“When the unfortunate day rolled around I +straddled the buckboard and lit out for Whisky +Crossing, twenty miles to the east, it being the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229'></a>229</span> +nearest burg on the stage line. And as I pulled in +I saw Frank, who drove the stage, and he was +grinning from ear to ear.</p> + +<p>“‘I reckon that’s your’n,’ he said, pointing to a +circus clown what had got loose and was sizing up +the town.</p> + +<p>“‘The drinks are on me when I sees you again, +Frank,’ I said, for somehow I felt that he was +right.</p> + +<p>“Then I sized up my present, and blamed if he +wasn’t all rigged out to kill Indians. While my +mouth was closing he ambled up to me and stared +at my gun, which must ’a’ been purty big to him.</p> + +<p>“‘Are you Mr. Fisher’s hired man?’ he asked, +giving me a real tolerating look.</p> + +<p>“Frank followed his grin into the saloon, leaving +the door open so he could hear everything. +That made me plumb sore at Frank, him a-doing +a thing like that, and I glared.</p> + +<p>“‘I ain’t nobody’s hired man, and never was,’ +I said, sort of riled. ‘We ain’t had no hired man +since we lynched the last one, but I’m next door to +the foreman. Won’t I do, or do you insist on +talking to a hired man? If you do, he’s in the +saloon.’</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230'></a>230</span>“‘Oh, yes, you’ll do!’ he said, quick-like, and +then he ups and climbs aboard and we pulled out +for home, Frank waving his sombrero at me and +laughing fit to kill.</p> + +<p>“We hadn’t no more than got started when the +hunter ups and grabs at the lines, which he shore +missed by a foot. I was driving them cayuses, not +him, and I told him so, too.</p> + +<p>“‘But ain’t you going to take my luggage?’ he +asked.</p> + +<p>“‘Luggage! What luggage?’ I answers, surprised-like.</p> + +<p>“Then he pointed behind him, and blamed if +he didn’t have two trunks, a gripsack and three +gun cases. I didn’t say a word, being too full of +cuss words to let any of ’em loose, until Frank +wobbled up and asked me if I’d forgot something. +Then I shore said a few, after which I busted my +back a-hoisting his freight cars aboard, and we +started out again, Frank acting like a d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n fool.</p> + +<p>“The cayuses raised their ears, wondering what +we was taking the saloon for, and I reckoned we +would make them twenty miles in about eight hours +if nothing busted and we rustled real hard.</p> + +<p>“Well, about every twenty minutes I had to get +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231'></a>231</span> +off and hoist some of his furniture aboard, it being +jolted off, for the prairie wasn’t paved a whole lot, +and us going cross-country. Considering my back, +and the fact that he kept calling me ‘My +man,’ and Frank’s grin, I wasn’t in no frame of +mind to lead a religion round-up when I got home +and dumped Davy Crockett’s war-duds overboard +for Jed to rustle in. I was still sore at Jed for +bringing that letter.</p> + +<p>“Davy Crockett dusted for the house and +ordered Sammy Johns to oil his guns and put them +together, after which he went off a-poking his nose +into everything in sight, and mostly everything that +wasn’t in sight. When he got back to the house +from his tour of inspection he found his guns just +like he’d left them, and that was in their cases. +Then he ambled out to me and registered his howl.</p> + +<p>“‘My man,’ he said, ‘My man, that hired man +what I told to put my guns together ain’t done it!’</p> + +<p>“‘Oh, he didn’t?’ I said, hanging on to my +cuss words, for I was some surprised and couldn’t +say a whole lot.</p> + +<p>“‘No, he hasn’t, and so I’ve come out to report +him,’ he said, looking mad.</p> + +<p>“‘My man!’ said I, mad some myself, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232'></a>232</span> +looking him plumb in the eyes. ‘My man, if he +had I’d shore think he was off his feed or loco. He +ain’t no hired man, but he is a all-fired good cow-puncher, +and I’m a heap scared about him not filling +you full of holes, you asking him to do a thing +like that! He must be real sick.’</p> + +<p>“He didn’t have no come-back to that, but just +looked sort of funny, and then he trotted off to put +his guns together hisself. I hustled around and +saw that some work was done right and then went +in to supper. After it was over my present got up +and handed me a gun, and I near fell over. It +was a purty little Winchester, and I don’t blame +him a whole lot for being tickled over it, for it +shore was a beauty, but it oozed out a ball about +the size of a pea, and the makers would ’a’ been +some scared if they had known it was running +around loose in a grizzly-bear country.</p> + +<p>“‘I reckon that’ll stop him,’ he said, happy-like.</p> + +<p>“‘Stop what?’ I asked him.</p> + +<p>“‘Why, game–bears, of course,’ he said, +shocked at my appalling ignorance.</p> + +<p>“‘Yes,’ said I, slow-like, ‘I reckon Ephraim +may turn around and scratch hisself, if you hits +him.’</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233'></a>233</span>“‘Why, won’t that stop a bear?’</p> + +<p>“‘Yes, if it’s a stuffed bear,’ I said.</p> + +<p>“‘Why, that’s a blamed good rifle!’</p> + +<p>“‘It shore is; it’s as fine a gun as I ever laid my +eyes on,’ I replied, ‘for prairie dogs and such.’</p> + +<p>“Then I felt plumb sorry for him, he being so +ignorant, and so when he hands me a peach of a +shotgun to shoot coyotes with I laid it down and +got my breach-loading Sharps, .50 caliber, which +I handed to him.</p> + +<p>“‘There,’ I said, ‘that’s the only gun in the +room what any self-respecting bear will give a +d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n for.’</p> + +<p>“He looked at it, felt its heft, sized up the bunghole +and then squinted along the sights.</p> + +<p>“‘Why, this gun will kick like the very deuce!’ +he said.</p> + +<p>“‘Kick!’ said I. ’<span class='sc'>Kick</span>! She’ll kick like a +army mule if you holds her far enough from your +shoulder. But I’d a whole lot ruther get kicked +by a mule than hugged by a grizzly, and so’ll you +when you sees him a-heading your way.’</p> + +<p>“‘But what’ll you use?’ says he, ‘I don’t want +to take your gun.’</p> + +<p>“Well, when he said that I reckoned that he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234'></a>234</span> +had some good stuff in him after all, and somehow +I felt better. There he was, away from his mother +and sisters, among a bunch of gamboling cow-punchers, +and right in the middle of a good bear +country. I sort of wondered if he was to blame, +and managed to lay all the fault on his city +bringing-up.</p> + +<p>“‘That’s all right,’ says I, ‘I’ll take an old +muzzle-loading Bridesburg what’s been laying +around the house ever since I came here. It +heaves enough lead at one crack to sink a man-of-war, +being a .60 caliber.’</p> + +<p>“Well, bright and early the next morning we +started out for bear, and I knowed just where to +look, too. You see, there was a thicket of berry +bushes about three miles from the ranch house and +I had seen plenty of tracks there, and there was a +grizzly among them, too, and as big as a house, +judging from the signs. The boys had wanted to +ride out in a gang and rope him, but I said as how +I was saving him for a dude hunter to practice on, +so they left him alone.</p> + +<p>“We footed it through the brush, and finally +Davy Crockett, who simply would go ahead of me, +yelled out that he had found tracks.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235'></a>235</span>“I rustled over, and sure enough he had, only +they wasn’t made by no bear, and I said so.</p> + +<p>“‘Then what are they?’ he asked, sort of disappointed.</p> + +<p>“‘Cow tracks,’ said I. ‘When you see bear +tracks you’ll know it right away,’ and we went on +a-hunting.</p> + +<p>“We had just got down in a little hollow, where +the green flies were purty bad, when I saw tracks, +and they was bear tracks this time, and whoppers. +It had rained a little during the night and the +ground was just soft enough to show them nice. +I called Davy Crockett and he came up, and when +he saw them tracks he was plumb tickled, and some +scairt.</p> + +<p>“‘Where is he?’ he asked, looking around sort +of anxious.</p> + +<p>“‘At the front end of these tracks, making +more,’ said I.</p> + +<p>“‘And what are we going to do now?’ he +asked, cocking the Sharps.</p> + +<p>“‘We’re going to trail him,’ said I, ‘and if we +finds him and has any accidents, you wants to telegraph +yourself up a tree, and be sure that it ain’t +a big tree, too.’</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236'></a>236</span>“’”Be sure it ain’t a big tree!“’ he repeated, +looking at me like he thought I wanted him to get +killed.</p> + +<p>“‘Exactly,’ said I, and then I explained: ‘The +bigger the tree, the sooner you’ll be a meal, for he +climbs by hugging the trunk and pushing hisself +up. A little tree’ll slide through his legs, and he +can’t get a holt.’</p> + +<p>“‘I hope I don’t forget that!’ he exclaimed, +looking dubious.</p> + +<p>“‘The less you forgets when bear hunting,’ said +I, ‘the longer you’ll remember.’</p> + +<p>“We took up the trail and purty soon we saw +the bear, and he was so big he didn’t hardly know +how to act. He was pawing berries into his mouth +for breakfast, and he turned his head and slowly +sized us up. He dropped on all fours and then +got up again, and Davy Crockett, not listening to +me telling him where to shoot, lets drive and busted +an ear. Ephraim preferred all fours again and +started coming straight at us, and Moses and all +his bullrushers couldn’t have stopped him. He was +due to arrive near Davy Crockett in about four +and a half seconds, and that person dropped his +gun and hot-footed it for a whopping big tree. I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237'></a>237</span> +yelled at him and told him to take a little one, but +he was too blamed busy hunting bear to listen to a +no-account hired man like me, so he kept on a-going +for the big tree.</p> + +<p>“I figured, and figured blamed quick, that the +bear would tag him just about the time he tagged +the tree, and so, hoping to create a diversion, I +whanged away at the bear’s tail, him running +plumb away from me. I was real successful, for +I created it all right. When he felt that carload +of lead slide up under his skin he braced hisself, +slid and wheeled, looking for the son-of-a-gun what +done it, and he saw me pouring powder hell-bent +down my gun. He must ’a’ knowed that I was the +real business end of the partnership, and that he’d +have trouble a-plenty if he let me finish my job, for +he came at me like a bullet.</p> + +<p>“‘Climb a <i>little</i> tree! Climb a <i>little</i> tree!’ +yelled Davy Crockett from his perch in his two-foot-through +oak.</p> + +<p>“I wasn’t in no joyous frame of mind when a +nine-foot grizzly was due in the next mail, but I +just had to laugh at his advice when I sized up his +layout. As I jumped to one side the bear slid past, +trying awful hard to stop, and he was doing real +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238'></a>238</span> +well, too. As he turned I slipped on some of that +green grass, and thought as how the Old Man +would have to get another puncher.</p> + +<p>“‘I ain’t never going to peter out with a tenderfoot +looking on if I can help it!’ I said to myself, +and I jerked loose my six-shooter, shooting offhand +and some hasty. It was just a last hope, the +kick of a dying man’s foot, but it fetched him, +blamed if it didn’t! He went down in a heap and +clawed about for a spell, but I put five more in +him, and then sat down. Did you ever notice how +long it takes a grizzly to die? I loaded my gun in +a hurry, the sweat pouring down my face, for that +was one of the times it ain’t no disgrace to be some +scared, which I was.</p> + +<p>“‘Is he dead?’ called Davy Crockett from his +tree, hopeful-like and some anxious.</p> + +<p>“‘He is,’ I said, ‘or, leastawise, he was.’</p> + +<p>“Davy was a sight. He was all skinned up +from his clinch with the tree, though how he used +his face getting up is more than I can tell. And +he was some white and unsteady. He had all the +hunting he wanted, and he managed to say that he +was glad he hadn’t come out alone, and that he +reckoned I was right about his guns after all. So +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239'></a>239</span> +we took a last look at the bear and lit out for the +ranch, where I told the boys to go out and drag +our game home.”</p> + +<p>Jim knocked the ashes from his pipe and began +to fill it anew, acting as though the story was finished, +but Bud knew him well, and he spoke up:</p> + +<p>“Well, what then?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Oh, the hunter left for New York the very +next day, and I skinned the bear and sent the pelt +after him as a present. When I wrote out my +quarterly report, the foreman not being back yet, +I told the Old Man that if he had any more friends +what wanted to go hunting to send them up to +Frenchy McAllister on the Tin Cup. I was some +sore at Frenchy for the way he had cleaned me out +at poker.”</p> + +<p>He threw the skin to the floor and began to +undress.</p> + +<p>“Come on, now, lights out,” he said. “I’m +tired.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240'></a>240</span><a id='link_14'></a>CHAPTER XIV<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE SHERIFF STATES SOME FACTS</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>T</span>HE foreman of the Star C impatiently tossed his bridle reins over the +post which stood near the sheriff’s door and knocked +heavily, brushing the dust of his ride from him. +Quick, heavy steps approached within the house +and the door suddenly flew open.</p> + +<p>“Hullo, Tom!” Shields cried, shaking hands +with his friend. “Come right in–I knew you +would come if we coaxed you a little.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t have to do much coaxing–I can’t +stay away, Jim,” replied Blake with a laugh. +“How do you do, Mrs. Shields?”</p> + +<p>“Very well, Tom,” she answered. “Miss +Ritchie, Helen, Mary, this is Tom Blake; Tom, +Miss Ritchie and James’ sisters. They are to stay +with us just as long as they can, and I’ll see that it +is a good, long time, too.”</p> + +<p>“How do you do?” he cried heartily, acknowledging +the introduction. “I am glad to meet you, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241'></a>241</span> +for I’ve heard a whole lot about you. I hope you’ll +like this country–greatest country under the sky! +You stay out here a month and I’ll bet you’ll be +just like lots of people, and not want to go back +East again.”</p> + +<p>“It seems as though we have always known +Mr. Blake, for James has written about you so +much,” replied Helen, and then she laughed: “But +I am not so sure about liking this country, although +very unusual things seem to take place in it. The +journey was very trying, and it seemed to get worse +as we neared our destination.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’ll have to confess that the stage-ride +part of it is a drawback, and also that Apaches +don’t make good reception committees. They are +a little too pressing at times.”</p> + +<p>“But, speaking seriously,” responded Helen, “I +have had a really delightful time. James has +managed to get me a very tame horse after quite a +long search, and I have taken many rides about the +country.”</p> + +<p>“Wait ’til you see that horse, Tom,” laughed +the sheriff. “It’s warranted not to raise any devilment, +but it can’t, for it has all it can do to stand +up alone, and can’t very well run away.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242'></a>242</span>“I see that The Orphan delivered my message, +contrary to the habits of men,” remarked the +sheriff’s wife as she took the guest’s hat and offered +him a seat. “I spoke to James about it several +days ago, and asked him to send you word when +he could, for you have not been here for a long +time. And the wonderful thing about it is that +he remembered to tell The Orphan.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” he replied, seating himself. +“Yes, he delivered it all right, it was about the +second thing he said. But I just couldn’t get here +any sooner, Mrs. Shields. And I was just wondering +if I could get over to-night when he told me. +When he said ‘apricot pie’ he looked sort of sad.”</p> + +<p>“Poor boy!” she exclaimed. “You must take +him one–it was a shame to send such a message +by him, poor, lonesome boy!”</p> + +<p>“Well, he ain’t so lonesome now,” laughed +Blake.</p> + +<p>Helen had looked up quickly at the mention of +The Orphan’s name, and the sheriff replied to her +look of inquiry.</p> + +<p>“I sent him out to punch for Blake, Helen,” he +said quickly. “If he has the right spirit in him +he’ll get along with the Star C outfit; if he hasn’t, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243'></a>243</span> +why, he won’t get on with anybody. But I reckon +Tom will bring out all the good in him; he’ll have +a fair show, anyhow.”</p> + +<p>“And you never told us about it!” cried Helen +reproachfully.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I was saving it up,” laughed the sheriff. +“What do you think of him, Tom?” he asked, +turning to the foreman.</p> + +<p>“Why, he’s a clean-looking boy,” answered +Blake. “I like his looks. He seems to be a fellow +what can be depended on in a pinch, and after all +I had heard about him he sort of took me by surprise. +I thought he would be a tough-looking +killer, and there he was only a overgrown, mischievous +kid. But there is a look in his eyes that +says there is a limit. But he surprised me, all +right.”</p> + +<p>“You want to appreciate that, Miss Ritchie,” +remarked the sheriff, smiling broadly. “Anything +that takes Tom Blake by surprise must have merit +of some kind. And he is a good judge of men, +too.”</p> + +<p>“I do so hope he gets on well,” she replied +earnestly. “He was a perfect gentleman when he +was here, and his wit was sharp, too. And out +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244'></a>244</span> +there on that awful plain, when he stood swaying +with weakness, he looked just splendid!”</p> + +<p>“Pure grit, pure grit!” cried the sheriff in reply. +“That’s why I’m banking on him,” he added, his +eyes warming as he remembered. “Any fellow +who could turn a trick like that, and who has so +much clean-cut courage, must be worth looking +after. He’s got a bad reputation, but he’s plumb +white and square with me, and I’m going to be +square with him. And when you know all that I +know about him you’ll take his reputation as a +natural result of hard luck, spunk, and other people’s +devilment and foolishness. But he’s going +to have a show now, all right.”</p> + +<p>“What did your men say when they saw him? +Do they know who he is?” asked Mrs. Shields +anxiously.</p> + +<p>Blake laughed: “Oh, yes, they know who he is. +They ain’t the talking kind in a case like that; they +won’t say a word to him about what he has done. +Besides, he was under their roof, eating their food, +and that’s enough for them. Of course, they were +a little surprised, but not half as much as I thought +they would be. He is a man who gives a good +first impression, and the boys are all fine fellows, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245'></a>245</span> +big-hearted, square, clean-living and peaceful. +Reputations don’t count for much with them, for +they know that reputations are gossip-made in most +cases. I asked him to stay, and they haven’t got +no reason to object, and they won’t waste no time +looking for reasons, neither. If there is any trouble +at all, it will be his own fault. Then again, +they know that he is all sand and that his gunplay +is real and sudden; not that they are afraid of him, +or anybody else, for that matter, but he is the kind +of a man they like–somebody who can stand up +on his own legs and give better than he gets.”</p> + +<p>“I reckon he fills that bill, all right,” laughed +the sheriff. “He <i>can</i> stand up on his own legs, +and when he does he makes good. And as for gunplay, +good Lord, he’s a shore wizard! I reckoned +I could do things with a gun, but he can beat me. +He ain’t no Boston pet, and he ain’t no city tough, +not nohow. And I’d rather have him with me in +a mix-up than against me. He’s the coolest proposition +loose in this part of the country at any game, +and I know what I’m talking about, too.”</p> + +<p>“You promised to tell us everything about him, +all you knew,” reproached Helen. “And I am +sure that it will be well worth hearing.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246'></a>246</span>“Well, I was saving it up ’til I could tell it all +at once and when you would all be together,” he +replied. “There wasn’t any use of telling it +twice,” he explained as he brought out a box of +cigars. “These are the same brand you sampled +last time you were here,” he assured his friend as +he extended the box.</p> + +<p>“By George, that’s fine!” cried the foreman, +picking out the blackest cigar he could see. “I +could taste them cigars for a whole week, they was +so good. There’s nothing like a good Perfecto to +make a fellow feel like he’s too lucky to live.”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” said Mrs. Shields. “Then you won’t +care for the coffee and pie and gingerbread,” she +sighed. “I’m very sorry.”</p> + +<p>Blake jumped: “Lord, Ma’am,” he cried hastily, +“I meant in the smoking line! Why, I’ve +been losing sleep a-dreaming of your cooking. +Every time the cook fills my cup with his insult to +coffee I feel so lonesome that it hurts!”</p> + +<p>“You want to look out, Tom!” laughingly +warned the sheriff, “or you’ll get yourself disliked! +When I don’t care for Margaret’s cooking I ain’t +fool enough to say so, not a bit of it.”</p> + +<p>“You’re a nice one to talk like that!” cried his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247'></a>247</span> +wife. “You are just like a little boy on baking +day–I can hardly keep you out of the kitchen. +You bother me to death, and it is all I can do to +cook enough for you!”</p> + +<p>After the laugh had subsided and a steaming cup +of coffee had been placed at the foreman’s elbow, +Helen impatiently urged her brother to begin his +story.</p> + +<p>He lighted his cigar with exasperating deliberateness +and then laughed softly: “Gosh! I’m getting +to be a second fiddle around here. From +morning to night all I hear is The Orphan. The +first thing that hits me when I come home is, ‘Have +you seen The Orphan?’ or, ‘Have you heard anything +about him?’ The worst offenders are Miss +Ritchie and Helen. They pester me nigh to death +about him. But here goes:</p> + +<p>“I reckon I’d better begin with Old John Taylor,” +he slowly began. “I’ve been doing some +quiet hunting lately, and in the course of it I ran +across Old John down in Crockettsville. You +remember him, don’t you, Tom? Yes, I reckoned +you wouldn’t forget the man who got us out of +that Apache scrape. Well, I had a good talk with +him, and this is what I learned:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248'></a>248</span>“About twenty years ago a family named Gordon +moved into northwestern Texas and put up a +shack in one of the valleys. There was three of +them, father, mother, and a bright little five-year-old +boy, and they brought about two hundred head +of cattle, a few horses and a whole raft of books. +Gordon bought up quite a bit of land from a ranch +nearby at almost a song, and he never thought of +asking for a deed–who would, down there in +those days? There wasn’t a rancher who owned +more than a quarter section; you know the game, +Tom–take up a hundred and sixty acres on a +stream and then claim about a million, and fight +like the very devil to hold it. We’ve all done it, I +reckon, but there is plenty of land for everybody, +and so there is no kick. Well, he was shore lucky, +for his boundary on two sides was a fair-sized +stream that never went dry, and you know how +scarce that is–a whole lot better than a gold mine +to a cattleman.</p> + +<p>“They got along all right for a while, had a +tenderfoot’s luck with their cattle, which soon +began to be more than a few specks on the plain, +and he was very well satisfied with everything, +except that there wasn’t no school. Old man Gordon +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249'></a>249</span> +was daffy on education, which is a good thing +to be daffy over, and he was some strong in that +line himself, having been a school teacher back +East. But he took his boy in hand and taught him +all he knew, which must have been a whole lot, +judging from things in general, and the kid was a +smart, quick youngster. He was plumb crazy +about two things–books and guns. He read and +re-read all the books he could borrow, and got so +he could handle a gun with any man on the range.</p> + +<p>“About five years after he had located, the +ranchman from whom he bought his range and +water rights went and died. Some of the heirs, +who were not what you would call square, began +to get an itching for Gordon’s land, which was +improved by the first irrigation ditch in Texas. +There was a garden and a purty good orchard, +which was just beginning to bear fruit. It was +pure, cussed hoggishness, for there was more land +than anybody had any use for, but they must grab +everything in sight, no matter what the cost. +Trouble was the rule after that, and the old man +was up against it all the time. But he managed to +hold his own, even though he did lose a lot of +cattle.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250'></a>250</span>“His brand was a gridiron, which wasn’t much +different from the gridiron circle brand of the big +ranch. It ain’t much trouble to use a running iron +through a wet blanket and change a brand like that +when you know how, and the Gridiron Circle gang +shore enough knew how. Their expertness with a +running iron would have caused questions to be +asked, and probably a lynching bee, in other parts +of the country, but down there they were purty +well alone. They let Gordon know that he had +jumped the range, which was just what they had +done, that he didn’t own it, and that the sooner he +left the country the better it would be for his +health. But he had peculiar ideas about justice, +and he shore was plumb full of grit and obstinacy. +He knew he was right, that he had paid for the +land, and that he had improved it. And he had a +lot of faith in the law, not realizing that he hadn’t +anything to show the law. And he didn’t know +that law and justice don’t always mean the same +thing, not by a long shot.</p> + +<p>“Well, one day he went out looking for a vein +of coal, which he thought ought to be thereabouts, +according to his books, and it ought to be close to +the surface of a fissure. He reckoned that coal of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251'></a>251</span> +any quality would be some better than chips and +the little wood he owned, so he got busy. But he +didn’t find coal, but something that made him hotfoot +it to his books. When the report came back +from the assay office he knew that he had hit on a +vein of native silver, which was some better than +coal.</p> + +<p>“It didn’t take long for the news to get around, +though God Himself only knows how it did, unless +the storekeeper told that a package had gone +through his hands addressed to the assay office, and +things began to happen in chunks. He caught +three Gridiron Circle punchers shooting his cows, +and he was naturally mad about it and just shot up +the bunch before they knew he was around. He +killed one and spoiled the health of the other two +for some time to come, which naturally spelled war +with a big W. Then about this time his wife went +and died, which was a purty big addition to his +troubles. As he stood above her grave, all broken +up, and about ready to give up the fight and go +back East, he was shot at from cover. He didn’t +much care if he was killed or not, until he remembered +that he had a boy to take care of. Then he +got fighting mad all at once, all of his troubles +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252'></a>252</span> +coming up before him in a bunch, and he got his +gun and went hunting, which was only right and +proper under the circumstances.”</p> + +<p>The sheriff flecked the ashes of his cigar into a +blue flower pot which was gay with white ribbons, +and poured himself a cup of coffee.</p> + +<p>“I hate to think that it is possible to find a whole +ranch of hellions from the owner down,” he continued, +“but the nature of the owner picks a dirty +foreman, and a dirty foreman needs dirty men, and +there you are. That fits the case of the Gridiron +Circle to a T. There was not one white man in +the whole gang,” and he sat in silence for a space.</p> + +<p>“Well, the boy, who was about fifteen years old +by this time, took his gun and went out to find his +daddy, and he succeeded. He cut him down and +buried him and then went home. That night the +shack burned to the ground, the orchard was ruined +and the boy disappeared. Some people said that +the kid took what he wanted and burned the house +rather than to have it profaned as a range house +by the curs who murdered his dad; and some said +the other thing, but from what I know of the kid, +I reckon he did it himself.</p> + +<p>“Right there and then things began to happen +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253'></a>253</span> +that hurt the ease and safety of the Gridiron Circle. +Cows were found dead all over the range–juglars +cut in every case. Three of their punchers were +found dead in one week–a .5O-caliber Sharps had +done it. A regular reign of terror began and kept +the outfit on the nervous jump all the time. They +searched and trailed and searched and swore, and +if one of them went off by himself he was usually +ready to be buried. Ten experienced, old-time +cowmen were made fools of by a fifteen-year-old +kid, who was never seen by anybody that lived long +enough to tell about it. When he got hungry, he +just killed another cow and had a porterhouse steak +cooked between two others over a good fire. He +ate the middle steak, which had all the juices of the +two burned ones, and threw the others away. Three +meals a day for six months, and one cow to a meal, +was the order of things on the ranges of the Gridiron +Circle. He had plenty of ammunition, because +every dead puncher was minus his belt when +found and his guns were broken or gone; and early +in the game the boy had made a master stroke: he +raided the storehouse of the ranch one night and +lugged away about five hundred rounds of ammunition +in his saddle bags, with a couple of spare +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254'></a>254</span> +Colts and a repeating Winchester of the latest +pattern, and he spoiled all the rest of the guns he +could lay his hands on. Humorous kid, wasn’t he, +shooting up the ranch with its own guns and +cartridges?</p> + +<p>“Finally, however, after the news had spread, +which it did real quick, a regular lynching party +was arranged, and the U-B, which lay about sixty +miles to the east, sent over half a dozen men to +take a hand. Then the Gridiron Circle had a rest, +but while the gang was hunting for him and laying +all sorts of elaborate traps to catch him, the boy +was over on the U-B, showing it how foolish it had +been to take up another man’s quarrel. By this +time the whole country knew about it, and even +some Eastern papers began to give it much attention. +One of the punchers of the Gridiron Circle, +when he found a friend dead and saw the tracks +of the kid in the sand, swore and cried that it was +‘that d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n Orphan’ who had done it, and the +name stuck. He had become an outlaw and was +legitimate prey for any man who had the chance +and grit to turn the trick. For ten years he has +been wandering all over the range like a hunted +gray wolf, fighting for his life at every turn against +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255'></a>255</span> +all kinds of odds, both human and natural. And +I reckon that explains why he is accused of doing +so much killing. He has been hunted and forced +to shoot to save his own life, and a gray wolf is a +fighter when cornered. I know that I wouldn’t +give up the ghost if I could help it, and neither +would anybody else.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it is a shame, an awful shame!” cried +Helen, tears of sympathy in her eyes. “How +could they do it? I don’t blame him, not a bit! +He did right, terrible as it was! And only a boy +when they began, too! Oh, it is awful, almost +unbelievable!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is, Sis,” replied Shields earnestly. “It +ain’t his fault, not by any manner or means–he +was warped.” And then he added slowly: “But +Tom and I will straighten him out, and if some +folks hereabouts don’t like it, they can shore lump +it, or fight.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me how you met him, Jim,” requested +Blake in the interval of silence. “I’ve heard some +of it, second-handed, or third-handed, but I’d like +to have it straight.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” the sheriff continued, “when he came +to these parts I didn’t know anything about him +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256'></a>256</span> +except what I had heard, which was only bad. +He had a nasty way of handling his gun, a hair-trigger +and a nervous finger on his gun, and he +had a distressing way of using one cow to a meal, +so I got busy. I didn’t expect much trouble in +getting him. I knew that he was only a youngster +and I counted on my fifty years, and most of them +of experience, getting him. Being young, I reckoned +he would be foolhardy and hasty and uncertain +in his wisdom; but, Lord! it was just like trying +to catch a flea in the dark. He was here, +there and everywhere. While I was down south +hunting along his trail he would be up north +objecting to the sheep industry in ingenious ways +and varying his bill of fare with choice cuts of +lamb and mutton. And by the time I got down +south he would be–God only knows where, I +didn’t. I could only guess, and I guessed wrong +until the last one. And then it was the toss of a +coin that decided it.</p> + +<p>“After a while he began to get more daring, +and when I say more daring I mean an open game +with no limit. He began to prove my ideas about +his age making him reckless, though he was cautious +enough, to be sure. One day, not long ago, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257'></a>257</span> +he had a run-in with two sheepmen out by the +U bend of the creek, who had driven their herds +up on Cross Bar-8 land and over the dead-line +established by the ranch. They must have taken +him for some Cross Bar-8 puncher and thought +he was going to kick up a fuss about the trespass, +or else they recognized him. Anyway, when I got +on the scene they were ready to be planted, which +I did for them. Then I went after him on a +plain trail north–and almost too plain to suit me, +because it looked like it had been made plain as an +invitation. He had picked out the softest ground +and left plenty of good tracks. But I was some +mad and didn’t care much what I run into. I +thought he had driven the whole blasted herd of +baa-baas over that high bank and into the +creek, for the number of dead sheep was shore +scandalous.</p> + +<p>“I followed that cussed trail north, east, south, +west and then all over the whole United States, it +seemed to me. And it was always growing older, +because I had to waste time in dodging chaparrals +and things like that that might hold him and his +gun. I went picking my way on a roundabout +course past thickets of honey mesquite and cactus +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258'></a>258</span> +gardens, over alkali flats and everything else, and +the more I fooled about the madder I got. I ain’t +no real, genuine fool, and I’ve had some experience +at trailing, but I had to confess that I was +just a plain, ordinary monkey-on-a-stick when +stacked up against a kid that was only about half +my age, because suddenly the plainness of the trail +disappeared and I was left out on the middle of +a burning desert to guess the answer as best I +could. I knew what he had done, all right, but +that didn’t help me a whole lot. Did you ever +trail anybody that used padded-leather footpads +on his cayuse’s feet, and that went on a walk, +picking out the hardest ground? No? Well, I +have, and it’s no cinch.</p> + +<p>“I got tired of chasing myself back to the same +place four times out of five, and I reckons that +it wouldn’t be very long before he had made his +circle and got me in front of him. It ain’t no +church fair to be hunting a mad devil like him +under the best conditions, and it’s a whole lot less +like one when he gets behind you doing the same +thing. I didn’t know whether he had swung to +the north or south, so I tossed up a coin and cried +heads for north–and it was tails. I cut loose at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259'></a>259</span> +a lope and had been riding for some time when I +saw something through an opening in the chaparrals +to the east of me, and it moved. I swung my +glasses on it, and I’m blamed if it wasn’t an +Apache war party bound north. They were about +a mile to the east of me, and if they kept on going +straight ahead they would run across my trail in +about three hours, for it gradually worked their +way. I ducked right then and there and struck +west for a time, turning south again until I hit +the Cimarron Trail, which I followed east. Well, +as I went around one side of the chaparral six mad +Apaches went around the other, and they hit my +trail too soon to suit me. I heard a hair-raising +yell and lit out in the direction of Chattanooga as +hard as I could go, with a hungry chorus a mile +behind me.</p> + +<p>“I had just passed that freak bowlder on the +Apache Trail when the man I was looking for +turned up, and with the drop, of course. We +reckoned that two was needed to stop the war-paints, +which we did, him running the game and +doing most of the playing. I felt like I was his +honored guest whom he had invited to share in +the festivities. He had plenty of chances to nail +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260'></a>260</span> +me if he wanted to, and he had chipped in on a +game that he didn’t have to take cards in; and to +help me out. He could have let them get me and +they would have thought that I had done all the +injury and that there wasn’t another man on the +desert. But he didn’t, and I began to think he +wasn’t as bad as he was painted.”</p> + +<p>Then he told of the trouble between The +Orphan and Jimmy of the Cross Bar-8, and of the +rage which blossomed out on the ranch.</p> + +<p>“That shore settled it for the Cross Bar-8. +They wanted lots of gore, and they got it, all +right, when he played five of their punchers +against the very war party he had sent north to +meet me, while I was chasing him. That war +party must have found something to their liking, +wandering about the country all that time.”</p> + +<p>Blake interrupted him: “War party that he +sent north to meet you?” he asked in surprise. +“How could he do that?”</p> + +<p>“That’s just what I said,” replied Shields, and +then he explained about the arrow. “Any man +who could stack a deck like that and use one danger +to wipe out another ain’t going to get caught +by an outfit of lunkheads–by George! if he didn’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261'></a>261</span> +work nearly the same trick on the Cross Bar-8 +crowd! Oh, it’s great, simply great!”</p> + +<p>The foreman slapped his knee enthusiastically: +“Fine! Fine!” he exulted. “That fellow has +got brains, plenty of them! And he’ll make use of +them to the good of this country, too, before we +get through with him.”</p> + +<p>Shields continued: “After he sic’d the chumps +of the Cross Bar-8 on the Apaches he shore raised +the devil on the ranch and I was asked to go out +and run things, which I did, or rather thought I +would do. Charley and I and the two Larkin boys +laid out on the plain all night, covered up with +sand, waiting for him to show up between us and +the windows–and the first thing I saw in the morning +was Helen’s flower pot here–it used to be Margaret’s–setting +up on top of a pile of sand under +my very nose where he had stuck it while I waited +for him–and blamed if he hadn’t signed his name +in the sand at its base!” He suddenly turned to +his sister: “Tell Tom about him calling on you +while I was waiting for him out on the ranch, +Helen.”</p> + +<p>Helen did so and the way she told it caused the +women to look keenly at her.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262'></a>262</span>Blake laughed heartily: “Now, don’t that beat +all!” he cried.</p> + +<p>“It don’t beat this,” responded the sheriff, turning +again to Helen. “Tell him about the stage +coach, Sis.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t know much about the first part of +it,” she replied. “All I remember is a terrible ride +–oh, it was awful!” she cried, shuddering as she +remembered the tortures of the Concord. “But +when we stopped and after I managed to get out +of the coach I saw the driver carrying a man on +his shoulders and coming toward us. He laid his +burden down and revived him–and he was a young +man, and covered with blood.” Then she paused: +“He was real nice and polite and didn’t seem to +think that he had done anything out of the ordinary. +Then we went on and he left us.”</p> + +<p>The sheriff laughed and leveled an accusing finger +at her:</p> + +<p>“You have left out a whole lot, Sis,” he said +affectionately. “Helen acted just like the thoroughbred +she is, Tom,” he continued. “I guess +Bill told you all about it, for he’s aired it purty +well. Why, she even lost her gold pin a-helping +him!” and he grinned broadly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263'></a>263</span>Helen shot him a warning glance, but it was too +late; Mary suddenly sat bolt upright, her expression +one of shocked surprise.</p> + +<p>“Helen Shields!” she cried, “and I never +thought of it before! How could you do it! Why, +that horrid man will show your pin and boast about +it to everybody! The idea! I’m surprised at +you!”</p> + +<p>“Tut, tut,” exclaimed Shields. “I reckon that +pin is all right. He might find it handy some day +to return it, it’ll be a good excuse when he gets on +his feet. And I’d hate to be the man to laugh at +it, or try to take it from him. Now, come, Mary, +think of it right; it was the first kind act he had +known since he lost his daddy. And that pin is one +of my main stand-bys in this game. I believe that +he’ll be square as long as he has it.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t care, James,” warmly responded +Mary. “It was <i>not</i> a modest thing to do when she +had never seen him before, and he her brother’s +enemy and an outlaw!”</p> + +<p>“How could I have fastened the bandage, sister +dear?” asked Helen, her complexion slightly more +colored than its natural shade. “It was so very +little to do after all he had done for us!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264'></a>264</span>“Well, Tom and I have some business to talk +over, so we’ll leave you to fight the matter out +among yourselves,” the sheriff said, arising. +“Come to my room, Tom, I want to talk over that +ranch scheme with you. You bring the coffee pot +and the cigars and I’ll juggle the pie and gingerbread,” +he laughed as he led the way.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Tom!” hastily called Mrs. Shields after +good-nights had been said, and just before the +door closed; “I promised you a dinner for your +boys when Helen and Mary came, and if you think +you can spare them this coming Sunday I will have +it then.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Mrs. Shields,” earnestly responded +Blake, turning on the threshold. “It is awful good +of you to put yourself out that way, and you can +bet that the boys will be your devoted slaves ever +after. If you must go to that trouble, why, Sunday +or any day you may name will do for us. Gosh, +but won’t they be tickled!” he exulted as he pictured +them feasting on goodies. “It’ll be better +than a circus, it shore will!”</p> + +<p>“Why, it’s no trouble at all, Tom,” she replied, +smiling at being able to bring cheer to a crowd of +men, lonely, as she thought. “And you will arrange +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265'></a>265</span> +to have The Orphan with them, won’t +you?”</p> + +<p>“I most certainly will,” he heartily replied. +“It’ll do wonders for him.” He glanced quickly +at Helen, but she was busily engaged in threading +a needle under the lamp shade.</p> + +<p>“Good night, all,” he said as he closed the door.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266'></a>266</span><a id='link_15'></a>CHAPTER XV<br /><span class='h2fs'>AN UNDERSTANDING</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>B</span>LAKE settled himself in the easy chair which his host pushed over to +him and crossed his feet on the seat of another, and became the +personification of contentment. One of the black +Perfectos which a friend in the East kept Shields +supplied with, was tenderly nursed by his lips, its +fragrant smoke slowly issuing from his nose and +mouth, yielding its delights to a man who knew a +good cigar when he smoked it, and who knew how +to smoke it. At his elbow stood a coffee pot, flanked +on one side by a plate piled high with gingerbread; +on the other by an apricot pie. His eyes half-closed +and his arms were folded, and a great peace +stole over him. He had the philosopher’s mind +which so readily yields to the magic touch of a +perfect cigar. In that short space of time he was +recompensed for a life of hardships, perils and but +few pleasures.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267'></a>267</span>They sat each lost in his own thoughts, in a +silence broken only by the very low and indistinct +hum of women’s voices and the loud ticking of the +clock, which soon struck ten. The foreman sighed, +stirred to knock the ashes from his cigar, and then +slowly reached his hand toward the pie. Shields +came to himself and very gravely relighted his cigar, +watching the blue smoke stream up over the lamp. +He looked at his contented friend for a few seconds +and then broke the silence.</p> + +<p>“Tom,” he said, “what I’m going to tell you +now is all meat. I couldn’t say anything about it +while the women were around, for they shore worry +a lot and there wasn’t no good in scaring them.</p> + +<p>“The Cross Bar-8 outfit got saddled with the +idea that they wanted a new sheriff, and four of +them didn’t care a whole lot how they made the +necessary vacancy. I got word that they were going +to pay Bill Howland for the part he played, and +on the face of it there wasn’t nothing more than +that. It was natural enough that they were sore +on him, and that they would try to square matters. +Well, of course, I couldn’t let him get wiped out +and I took cards in the game. But, Lord, it wasn’t +what I reckoned it was at all. He was in for his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268'></a>268</span> +licking, all right, but <i>he</i> was the <i>little</i> fish–and <i>I</i> +was the <i>big</i> one.</p> + +<p>“They got Bill in the defile of the Backbone and +were going to lynch him–they beat him up shameful. +He wouldn’t tell them that I was hand-in-glove +with The Orphan, which they wanted to +hear, so they tried to scare him to lie, but it was +no go.</p> + +<p>“Well, I followed Bill and, to make it short, +that is just what they had figured on. They posted +an outpost to get the drop on me when I showed +up, and he got it. Tex Williard seemed to be the +officer in charge, and he asked me questions and +suggested things that made me fighting mad inside. +But I was as cool as I could be apparently, for it +ain’t no good to lose your temper in a place like that. +I suppose they wanted me to get out on the warpath +so they could frame up some story about self-defense. +It looked bad for me, with three of them +having their guns on me, and Tex Williard had +just given me an ultimatum and had counted two, +when, d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d if The Orphan didn’t take a hand +from up on the wall of the defile. That let me get +my guns out, and the rest was easy. We let Bill +get square on the gang for the beating he had got, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269'></a>269</span> +by whipping all of them to the queen’s taste. When +they got so they could stand up I told them a few +things and ordered them out of the country, and +they were blamed glad to get the chance to go, too.</p> + +<p>“The Orphan didn’t have to mix up in that, not +at all, and it makes the third time he’s put his +head in danger to help me or mine, and he took +big chances every time. How in h–l can I help +liking him? Can I be blamed for treating him +white and square when he’s done so much for me? +He is so chock full of grit and squareness that +I’ll throw up this job rather than to go out after +him for his past deeds, and I mean it, too, Tom.”</p> + +<p>Blake reached for another piece of pie, held his +hand over it in uncertainty and then, changing his +mind, took gingerbread for a change.</p> + +<p>“Well, I reckon you’re right, Jim,” he replied. +“Anyhow, it don’t make a whole lot of difference +whether you are or not. You’re the sheriff of this +layout, and you’re to do what you think best, and +that’s the idea of most of the people out here, too. +If you want to experiment, that’s your business, for +you’ll be the first to get bit if you’re wrong. And +it ain’t necessary to tell you that your friends will +back you up in anything you try. Personally, I am +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270'></a>270</span> +rather glad of what you’re doing, for I like that +man’s looks, as I said before, and he’ll be just the +kind of a puncher I want. He’s a man that’ll fight +like h–l for the man he ties up to and who +treats him square. If he ain’t, I’m getting childish +in my judgment.”</p> + +<p>“I sent him to you,” the sheriff continued, “because +I wanted to get him in with a good outfit and +under a man who would be fair with him. I knew +that you would give him every chance in the world. +And then Helen takes such an interest in him, being +young and sympathetic and romantic, that I wanted +to please her if I could, and I can. She’ll be very +much pleased now that I’ve given him a start in +the right direction and there ain’t nothing I can do +for her that is not going to be done. She’s a blamed +fine girl, Tom, as nice a girl as ever lived.”</p> + +<p>“She shore is–there ain’t no doubt about +that!” cried the foreman, and then he frowned +slightly. “But have you thought of what all this +might develop into?” he asked, leaning forward +in his earnestness. “It’s shore funny how I should +think of such a thing, for it ain’t in my line at all, +but the idea just sort of blew into my head.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271'></a>271</span>“Well, Helen, being young and sympathetic and +romantic, as you said, and owing her own life and +the lives of her sister and friend, not to mention +yours, to him, might just go and fall in love with +him, and I reckon that if she did, she would stick +to him in spite of hell. He’s a blamed good-looking, +attractive fellow, full of energy and grit, somewhat +of a mystery, and women are strong on mysteries, +and he might nurse ideas about having some one to +make gingerbread and apricot pie for him; and if +he does, as shore as God made little apples, it’ll +be Helen that he’ll want. He’s never seen as pretty +a girl, she’s been kind and sympathetic with him, +and I’m willing to bet my hat that he’s lost a bit +of sleep about her already. Good Lord, what can +you expect? She pities him, and what do the books +say about pity?”</p> + +<p>The sheriff thought for a minute and then looked +up with a peculiar light in his eyes.</p> + +<p>“For a bachelor you’re doing real well,” he +said, still thinking hard.</p> + +<p>“Being a bachelor don’t mean that I ain’t never +rubbed elbows with women,” replied the foreman. +“There are some people that are bachelors because +they are too darned smart to get roped and branded +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272'></a>272</span> +because the moon happens to be real bright. But +I’ll confess to you that I ain’t a bachelor because +I didn’t want to get roped. We won’t say any +more about that, however.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Shields, slowly. “If he tries to +get her before I know that he is straight and clean +and good enough for her, I’ll just have to stop him +any way I can. First of all, I’m looking out for +my sister, the h–l with anybody else. But on +the other hand, if he makes good and wants her bad +enough to rustle for two and she has her mind +made up that she’d rather have him than stay single +and is head over heels in love with him, I don’t see +that there’s anything to worry about. I tell you +that he is a good man, a real man, and if he changes +like I want him to, she would be a d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d sight +better off with him than with some dudish tenderfoot +in love with money. He has had such a God-forsaken +life that he will be able to appreciate a +change like that–he would be square as a brick with +her and attentive and loyal–and with him she +wouldn’t run much chance of being left a widow. +Why, I’ll bet he’ll worship the ground she walks +on–she could wind him all around her little finger +and he’d never peep. And she would have the best +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273'></a>273</span> +protection that walks around these parts. But, +pshaw, all this is too far ahead of the game. How +about that herd of cattle you spoke of?”</p> + +<p>“I can get you the whole herd dirt cheap,” +replied the foreman. “And they are as hungry and +healthy a lot as you could wish.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” responded the sheriff, “I’ve made up +my mind to go ranching again. I can’t stand this +loafing, for it don’t amount to much more than that +now that The Orphan has graduated out of the outlaw +class. I can run a ranch and have plenty of +time to attend to the sheriff part of it, too. Ever +since I sold the Three-S I have been like a fish out of +water. When I got rid of it I put the money away +in Kansas City, thinking that I might want to go +back at it again. Then I got rid of that mine and +bunked the money with the ranch money. The +interest has been accumulating for a long time now +and I have got something over thirty thousand +lying idle. Now, I’m going to put it to work.</p> + +<p>“I ran across Crawford last week, and he is +dead anxious to sell out and go back East–he don’t +like the West. I’ve determined to take the A-Y +off his hands, for it’s a good ranch, has good buildings +on it, two fine windmills over driven wells, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274'></a>274</span> +good grass and shelters. Why, he has put up shelters +in Long Valley that can’t be duplicated under +a thousand dollars. His terms are good–five thousand +down and the balance in installments of two +thousand a year at three per cent., and I can get +<i>over</i> three per cent, while it is lying waiting to be +paid to him. He is too blamed sick of his white +elephant to haggle over terms. He was foolish +to try to run it himself and to sink so much money +in driven wells, windmills and buildings–it would +astonish you to know how much money he spent in +paint alone. What did he know about ranching, +anyhow? He can’t hardly tell a cow from a heifer. +He said that he knew how to make money earn +money in the East, but that he couldn’t make a cent +raising cows.</p> + +<p>“If The Orphan attends to his new deal I’ll put +him in charge and the rest lies with him. I’ll provide +him with a good outfit, everything he needs +and, if he makes good and the ranch pays, I’ll fix +it so he can own a half-interest in it at less than it +cost me, and that will give him a good job to hold +down for the rest of his life. It’ll be something +for him to tie to in case of squalls, but there ain’t +much danger of his becoming unsteady, because if +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275'></a>275</span> +he was at all inclined to that sort of thing he would +be dead now.</p> + +<p>“This ain’t no fly-away notion, as you know. +I’ve had an itching for a good ranch for several +years, and for just about that length of time I’ve +had my eyes on the A-Y. I was going to buy it +when Crawford gobbled it up at that fancy price +and I felt a little put out when he took up his option +on it, but I’m glad he did, now. Why, Reeves sold +out to Crawford for almost three times what I am +going to pay for it, and it has been improved fifty +per cent. since he has had it. But, of course, there +was more cattle then than there is now. You get +me that herd at a good figure and I’ll be able to +take care of them very soon now, just as soon as +I close the deal. But, mind you, no Texas cattle +goes–I don’t want any Spanish fever in mine.</p> + +<p>“I’m thinking some of putting Charley in charge +temporarily, just as soon as Sneed gets some men, +and when The Orphan takes it over things will be +in purty fair shape. I won’t move out there because +my wife don’t like ranching–she wants to +be in town where she is near somebody, but I’ll +spend most of my time out there until everything +gets in running order. Oh, yes–in consideration +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276'></a>276</span> +of the five thousand down at the time the papers +are signed, Crawford has agreed to leave the ranch-house +furnished practically as it is, and that will be +nice for Helen and The Orphan if they ever should +decide to join hands in double blessedness. You +used to have a lot of fun about the high-faluting +fixings in your ranch-house, but just wait ’til you +see this one! An inside look around will open your +eyes some, all right. It is a wonder, a real wonder! +Running water from the windmills, a bath-room, +sinks in the kitchen, a wood-burning boiler in the +cellar, and all the comforts possible. If Crawford +tries to move all that stuff back East it would cost +him more than he could get for it, and he knows +it, too. It’s a bargain at twice the price, and I’m +going to nail it. I can’t think of anything else.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” replied Blake, “I don’t see how you +could do anything better, that’s sure. It all depends +on the price, and if you’re satisfied with that, there +ain’t no use of turning it down. I know you can +make money out there with any kind of attention, +for I’m purty well acquainted with the A-Y. And +I’ll see about the cattle next week, but you better +leave The Orphan stay with me a while longer. +My boys are the best crowd that ever lived in a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277'></a>277</span> +bunk-house, and if he minds his business they’ll +smooth down his corners until you won’t hardly +know him; and they’ll teach him a little about the +cow-puncher game if he’s rusty.</p> + +<p>“You remember the time we had that killing +out there, don’t you?” Blake asked. “Well, you +also remember that we agreed to cut out all gunplay +on the ranch in the future, and that I sent +East for some boxing gloves, which were to be used +in case anybody wanted to settle any trouble. They +have been out there for two years now, and haven’t +been used except in fun. Give the boys a chance +and they’ll cure him of the itching trigger-finger, +all right. They’re only a lot of big-hearted, overgrown +kids, and they can get along with the devil +himself if he’ll let them. But they are hell-fire +and brimstone when aroused,” then he laughed +softly: “They heard about your trouble with Sneed +and they shore was dead anxious to call on the Cross +Bar-8 and make a few remarks about long life +and happiness, but I made them wait ’til they should +be sent for.</p> + +<p>“They know all about The Orphan–that is, +as much as I did before I called to-night. Joe +Haines is a great listener and when he rustles our +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278'></a>278</span> +mail once a week he takes it all in, so of course +they know all about it. They had a lot of fun +about the way he made the Cross Bar-8 sit up and +take notice, for they ain’t wasting any love on +Sneed’s crowd. And it took Bill Howland over +an hour to tell Joe about his experiences. So when +The Orphan met the outfit they knew him to be the +man who had saved the sheriff’s sisters, which went +a long way with them. Say, Jim,” he exclaimed, +“can I tell them what you said about him to-night? +Let me tell them everything, for it’ll go far with +them, especially with Silent, who had some trouble +with the U-B about five years ago. He was taking +a herd of about three thousand head across their +range and he swears yet at the treatment he got. +Yes? All right, it’ll make him solid with the +outfit.”</p> + +<p>“Tell them anything you want about him,” said +the sheriff, “but don’t say anything about the A-Y. +I want to keep it quiet for a while.”</p> + +<p>Shields poured himself a cup of coffee and then +glanced at the clock: “Too late for a game, +Tom?” he asked, expectantly.</p> + +<p>The foreman laughed: “It’s seldom too late for +that,” he replied.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279'></a>279</span>“Good enough!” cried his host. “What shall +it be this time–pinochle or crib?”</p> + +<p>The foreman slowly closed his eyes as he replied: +“Either suits me–this feed has made me plumb +easy to please. Why, I’d even play casino to-night!”</p> + +<p>“Well, what do you say to crib?” asked the +sheriff. “You licked me so bad at it the last time +you were here that I hanker to get revenge.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t blame you for wanting to get +it, but I’ll tell you right now that you won’t, for I +can lick the man that invented crib to-night,” +laughed the foreman. “Bring out your cards.”</p> + +<p>Shields placed the cards on the table and +arranged things where they would be handy while +his friend shuffled the pack.</p> + +<p>The foreman pushed the cards toward his host: +“There you are–low deals as usual, I suppose.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you might as well go ahead and deal,” +grumbled the sheriff good-naturedly. “I don’t +remember ever cutting low enough for you–by +George! A five!”</p> + +<p>Blake picked up the cards and started to deal, +but the sheriff stopped him.</p> + +<p>“Hey! You haven’t cut yet!” Shields cried, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280'></a>280</span> +putting his hand on the cards. “What are you +doing, anyhow?”</p> + +<p>Blake laughed with delight: “Well, anybody +that can’t cut lower than a five hadn’t ought to +play the game. What’s the use of wasting time?”</p> + +<p>“Well, you never mind about the time–you +go ahead and beat me,” cried the sheriff. “Of all +the nerve!”</p> + +<p>Blake picked up the cards again: “Do you want +to cut again?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Not a bit of it! That five stands!”</p> + +<p>“Well, how would a four do?” asked the foreman, +lifting his hand. “It’s a three!” he exulted. +“All that time wasted,” he said.</p> + +<p>“You go to blazes,” pleasantly replied the sheriff +as he sorted his hand. “This ain’t so bad for +you, not at all bad; you could have done worse, +but I doubt it.” He discarded, cut, and Blake +turned a six.</p> + +<p>“Seven,” called Shields as he played.</p> + +<p>“Seventeen,” replied Blake, playing a queen.</p> + +<p>“No you don’t, either,” grinned the sheriff. +“You can play that four later if you want to, but +not now on twenty-seven. Call it twenty-five,” he +said, playing an eight.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281'></a>281</span>Blake carefully scanned his hand and finally +played the four, grumbling a little as his friend +laughed.</p> + +<p>“Thirty-one–first blood,” remarked the sheriff, +dropping the deuce.</p> + +<p>While he pegged his points Blake suddenly +laughed.</p> + +<p>“Say, Jim,” he said, “before I forget it I want +to tell you a joke on Humble. He thought it would +be easy money if he taught Lee Lung how to play +poker. He bothered Lee’s life out of him for several +days, and finally the Chinaman consented to +learn the great American game.”</p> + +<p>Blake played a six and the sheriff scored two +by pairing, whereupon his opponent made it threes +for six, and took a point for the last card.</p> + +<p>“As I was saying, Humble wanted the cook to +learn poker. Lee’s face was as blank as a cow’s, +and Humble had to explain everything several +times before the cook seemed to understand what +he was driving at. Anybody would have thought +he had been brought up in a monastery and that he +didn’t know a card from an army mule.”</p> + +<p>Blake pegged his seven points and picked up his +cards without breaking the story.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282'></a>282</span>“But Lee had awful luck, and in half an hour +he owned half of Humble’s next month’s pay. +Now, every time he gets a chance he shows Humble +the cards and asks for a game. ‘Nicee game, +ploker, nicee game,’ he’ll say. What Humble says +is pertinent, profane and permeating. Then the +boys guy him to a finish. He’ll be wanting to +teach Lee how to play fan-tan some day, so the +boys say. Lee must have graduated in poker before +Humble ever heard of the game.”</p> + +<p>Shields laughed heartily and swiftly ran over +his cards.</p> + +<p>“Fifteen two, four, six, a pair is eight, and a +double run of three is fourteen. Real good,” he +said as he pegged. “Passed the crack that time. +What have you got?”</p> + +<p>The foreman put his cards down, found three +sixes and then turned the crib face up. “Pair of +tens and His Highness,” he grumbled. “Only +three in that crib!”</p> + +<p>“That’s what you get for cutting a three,” +laughed the sheriff.</p> + +<p>The game continued until the striking of the +clock startled the guest.</p> + +<p>“Midnight!” he cried. “Thirty miles before +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283'></a>283</span> +I get to bed–no, no, I can’t stay with you to-night +–much obliged, all the same.”</p> + +<p>He clapped his sombrero on his head and started +for the door: “Well, better luck next time, Jim–three +twenty-four hands shore did make a difference. +Right where they were needed, too. So +long.”</p> + +<p>“Sorry you won’t stay, Tom,” called his friend +from the door as the foreman mounted. “You +might just as well, you know.”</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry, too, but I’ve got to be on hand +to-morrow–anyway, it’s bright moonlight–so +long!” he cried as he cantered away.</p> + +<p>“Hey, Tom!” cried the sheriff, leaping from +the porch and running to the gate. “Tom!”</p> + +<p>“Hullo, what is it?” asked the foreman, drawing +rein and returning.</p> + +<p>“Smoke this on your way, it’ll seem shorter,” +said the sheriff, holding out a cigar.</p> + +<p>“By George, I will!” laughed Blake. “That’s +fine, you’re all right!”</p> + +<p>“Be good,” cried the sheriff, watching his friend +ride down the street.</p> + +<p>“Shore enough good–I have to be,” floated +back to his ears.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284'></a>284</span><a id='link_16'></a>CHAPTER XVI<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE FLYING-MARE</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>T</span>HE Sunday morning following Blake’s visit to Ford’s Station found the +Star C in excitement. Notwithstanding the fact +that on every pleasant night after the day’s work +had been done it was the custom for the outfit to +indulge in a swim, and that Saturday night had +been very pleasant, the Limping Water was being +violently disturbed, and laughter and splashing +greeted the sun as it looked over the rim of the +bank. Cakes of soap glistened on the sand on the +west bank and towels hung from convenient limbs +of the bushes which fringed the creek.</p> + +<p>Silent, who was noted among his companions +for the length of time he could stay under water, +challenged them to a submersion test. The rules +were simple, inasmuch as they consisted in all +plunging under at the same time, the winner being +he who was the last man up. Silent had steadfastly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285'></a>285</span> +refused to have his endurance timed, which +his friends mistook for modesty, and no sooner +had all “ducked under” than his head popped +up–but this time he was not alone. Humble, +whose utmost limit was not over half a minute, +grew angry at his inability to make a good showing +and craftily determined to take a handicap. +The two stared at each other for a space and then +burst into laughter, forgetting for the time being +what they should do. Other heads bobbed up, +and the secret was out. Only that Silent was the +best swimmer in the crowd saved him from a +ducking, and as it was he had to grab his clothes +and run.</p> + +<p>After being assured that he was forgiven for +his trickery he rejoined his friends and his towel.</p> + +<p>More fun was now the rule, for dressing required +care. The sandy west bank sloped gradually +to the water’s edge, and it was necessary to +stand on one foot on a small stone in the water +while the other was dipped to remove the sand. +Still on one foot the other must be dried, the +stocking put on, then the trouser leg and lastly +the boot, and woe to the man who lost his balance +and splashed stocking and trouser leg as he wildly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286'></a>286</span> +sought to save it! Humble splashed while his +foot was only half-way through the trouser leg, +and The Orphan fared even worse. Then a race +of awkward runners was on toward the bunk +house, where breakfast was annihilated.</p> + +<p>“Hey, Tom, what time do we leave?” asked +Bud for the fifth time.</p> + +<p>“Nine o’clock, you chump,” replied the foreman.</p> + +<p>“Three whole hours yet,” grumbled Jim as he +again plastered his hair to his head.</p> + +<p>“I’ll lose my appetite shore,” worried Humble. +“We got up too blamed early, that’s what +we did.”</p> + +<p>“Why, here’s Humble!” cried Silent in mock +surprise. “Do <i>you</i> like apricot pie, and gingerbread +and <i>real</i> coffee?”</p> + +<p>“You go to the devil,” grumbled Humble. +“You wouldn’t ’a’ been asked at all, only she +couldn’t very well cut you out of it when she asked +me along. <i>I</i>’m the one she really wants to feed; +you fellers just happen to tag on behind, that’s all.”</p> + +<p>“Going to take Lightning with you, Humble?” +asked Docile, winking at the others.</p> + +<p>“Why, I shore am,” replied Humble in surprise. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287'></a>287</span> +“Do you reckon I’d leave him and that +d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>-d Chink all alone together, you sheep?”</p> + +<p>“I was afraid you wouldn’t,” pessimistically +grumbled Docile, but here he smiled hopefully. +“Suppose you take Lee Lung and leave the dog +here?” he queried.</p> + +<p>“Suppose you quit supposing with your feet!” +sarcastically countered Humble. “I know you +ain’t got much brains, but you might exercise what +little you have got once in a while. It won’t hurt +you none after you get used to it.”</p> + +<p>“How are you going to carry him, Humble–like +a papoose?” queried Joe with a great show +of interest.</p> + +<p>Humble stared at him: “Huh!” he muttered, +being too much astonished to say more.</p> + +<p>“I asked you how you are going to carry your +fighting wolfhound,” Joe said without the quiver +of an eyelash. “I thought mebby you was going +to sling him on your back like a papoose.”</p> + +<p>“Carry him! Papoose!” ejaculated Humble +in withering irony. “What do you reckon his +legs are for? He ain’t no statue, he ain’t no ornament, +he’s a dog.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I knowed he ain’t no ornament, but I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288'></a>288</span> +wasn’t shore about the rest of it,” responded Joe. +“I only wanted to know how he’d get to town. +There ain’t no crime in asking about that, is there? +I know he can’t follow the gait we’ll hit up for +thirty miles, so I just naturally asked, <i>sabe?”</i></p> + +<p>“Oh, you did, did you!” cried Humble, not at +all humbly. “He can’t follow us, can’t he?” he +yelled belligerently.</p> + +<p>“He shore can’t, cross my heart,” asserted +Silent in great earnestness. “If he runs to Ford’s +Station after us and gets there inside of two days +I’ll buy him a collar. That goes.”</p> + +<p>“Huh!” snorted Humble in disgust, “he won’t +wear your old collar after he wins it. He’s got +too much pride to wear anything you’ll give him.”</p> + +<p>“He couldn’t, you mean,” jabbed Jim. “He’s +so plumb tender that it would strain his back to +carry it. Why, he has to sit down and rest if +more’n two flies get on the same spot at once.”</p> + +<p>“He can’t wag his tail more’n three times in an +hour,” added Bud, “and when he scratches hisself +he has to rest for the remainder of the day.”</p> + +<p>Humble turned to The Orphan in an appealing +way: “Did you ever see so many d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d fools all +at once?” he beseeched.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289'></a>289</span>The Orphan placed his finger to his chin and +thought for fully half a minute before replying: +“I was just figuring,” he explained in apology for +his abstraction. Then his face brightened: “You +can tie him up in a blanket–that’s the best way. +Yes, sir, tie him up in a blanket and sling him at +the pommel. We’ll take turns carrying him.”</p> + +<p>“Purple h–l!” yelled Humble. “You’re +another! The whole crowd are a lot of <span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>!”</p> + +<p>“Sing it, Humble,” suggested Tad, laughing. +“Sing it!”</p> + +<p>“Whistle some of it, and send the rest by mail,” +assisted Jack Lawson.</p> + +<p>“Seen th’ dlog?” came a bland, monotonous +voice from the doorway, where Lee Lung stood +holding a chunk of beef in one hand, while his +other hand was hidden behind his back. Over his +left shoulder projected half a foot of club, which he +thought concealed. “Seen th’ dlog?” he repeated, +smiling.</p> + +<p>“Miss Mirandy and holy hell!” shouted Humble, +leaping forward at sight of the club. There +was a swish! and Humble rebounded from the +door, at which he stared. From the rear of the +house came more monotonous words: “Nice dlog-gie. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290'></a>290</span> +Pletty Lightling. Here come. Gette glub,” +and Humble galloped around the corner of the +house, swearing at every jump.</p> + +<p>When the laughter had died down Blake smiled +grimly: “Some day Lee <i>will</i> get that dog, and +when he does he’ll get him good and hard. Then +we’ll have to get another cook. I’ve told him fifty +times if I’ve told him once not to let it go past a +joke, but it’s no use.”</p> + +<p>“He won’t hurt the cur, he’s only stringing +Humble,” said Bud. “Nobody would hurt a dog +that minded his own business.”</p> + +<p>“If anybody hit a dog of mine for no cause, he +wouldn’t do it again unless he got me first,” quietly +remarked The Orphan.</p> + +<p>Jim hastily pointed to the corner of the house +where a club projected into sight: “There’s Lee +now!” he whispered hurriedly. “He’s laying for +him!”</p> + +<p>There was a sudden spurt of flame and smoke +and the club flew several yards, struck by three +bullets. Humble hopped around the corner holding +his hand, his words too profane for repetition.</p> + +<p>Smoke filtered from The Orphan’s holster and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291'></a>291</span> +eyes opened wide in surprise at the wonderful +quickness of his gunplay, for no one had seen it. +All there was was smoke.</p> + +<p>“Good God!” breathed Blake, staring at the +marksman, who had stepped forward and was +explaining to Humble. “It’s a good thing Shields +was square!” he muttered.</p> + +<p>“Did you see that?” asked Bud of Jim in +whispered awe. “And I thought <i>I</i> was some +beans with a six-shooter!”</p> + +<p>“No, but I heard it–was they one or six?” +replied Jim.</p> + +<p>“I didn’t know it was you, Humble,” explained +The Orphan. “I thought it was the Chink laying +for the dog.”</p> + +<p>“<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span> <span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>! Good for you!” cried Humble in +sudden friendliness. “You’re all right, Orphant, +but will you be sure next time? That stung like +blazes,” he said as he held out his hand. “I can +always tell a white man by the way he treats a +dog. If all men were as good as dogs this world +would be a blamed sight nicer place to live in, and +don’t you forget it.”</p> + +<p>“Still going to take Lightning with you, Humble?” +asked Bud.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292'></a>292</span>“No, I ain’t going to take Lightning with me!” +snapped Humble. “I’m going to leave him right +here on the ranch,” here his voice arose to a roar, +“and if any sing-song, rope-haired, animated hash-wrastler +gets gay while I’m gone, I’ll send him to +his heathen hell!”</p> + +<p>“Come on, boys,” said Blake, snapping his +watch shut. “Time to get going.”</p> + +<p>“Glory be!” exulted Silent, executing a few +fancy steps toward the corral, his companions close +behind, with the exception of The Orphan, who +had gone into the bunk house for a minute.</p> + +<p>As they whooped their way toward the town +Blake noticed that a gold pin glittered at the knot +of the new recruit’s neck-kerchief, and he chuckled +when he recalled the warning he had given to the +sheriff. He shrewdly guessed that the apricot pie +and the rest of the feast were quite subordinated +by The Orphan to the girl who had given him +the pin.</p> + +<p>Bud suddenly turned in his saddle and pointed +to a jackrabbit which bounded away across the +plain like an animated shadow.</p> + +<p>“Now, if Humble’s bloodhound was only here,” +he said, “we would rope that jack and make the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293'></a>293</span> +cur fight it. It would be a fine fight, all right,” he +laughed.</p> + +<p>“You go to the devil,” grunted Humble, and +he started ahead at full speed. “Come on!” +he cried. “Come on, you snails!” and a race +was on.</p> + +<p style='letter-spacing:4em; text-align: center; margin: 10px auto;'>·····</p> + +<p>The citizens of Ford’s Station saw a low-hanging +cloud of dust which rolled rapidly up from the +west and soon a hard-riding crowd of cowboys, in +gala attire, galloped down the main street of the +town. They slowed to a canter and rode abreast +in a single line, the arms of each man over the +shoulders of his nearest companions, and all sang +at the top of their lungs. On the right end rode +Blake, and on the left was The Orphan. Bill +Howland ran out into the street and spotted his +new friend immediately and swung his hat and +cheered for the man who had helped him out of +two bad holes. The Orphan broke from the line +and shook hands with the driver, his face wreathed +by a grin.</p> + +<p>“You old son-of-a-gun!” cried Bill, delighted +at the familiarity from so noted a person as the +former outlaw. “How are you, hey?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294'></a>294</span>The line cried warm greeting as it swung around +to shake his hand, and the driver’s chest took on +several inches of girth.</p> + +<p>“Hullo, Bill!” cried Bud with a laugh. “Seen +your old friend Tex lately?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I did,” replied Bill. “I saw him out on +Thirty-Mile Stretch, but he didn’t do nothing but +swear. He didn’t want no more run-ins with me, +all right, and, besides, my rifle was across my +knees. He said as how he was going to come +back some day and start things moving about this +old town, and I told him to begin with the Star C +when he did.”</p> + +<p>He looked across the street and waved his hand +at a group of his friends who were looking on. +“Come on over, fellows,” he cried, and when they +had done so he turned and introduced The Orphan +to them.</p> + +<p>“This ugly cuss here is Charley Winter; this +slab-sided curiosity is Tommy Larkin, and here is +his brother Al; Chet Dare, Duke Irwin, Frank +Hicks, Hoke Jones, Gus Shaw and Roy Purvis. +All good fellows, every one of them, and all friends +of the sheriff. Here comes Jed Carr, the only +man in the whole town who ain’t afraid of me +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295'></a>295</span> +since I licked them punchers in the defile. Hullo, +Jed! Shake hands with the man who played h–l +with the Cross Bar-8 and the Apaches.”</p> + +<p>“Glad to meet you, Orphan,” remarked Jed as +he shook hands. “Punching for the Star C, eh? +Good crowd, most of them, as they run, though +Humble ain’t very much.”</p> + +<p>“He ain’t, ain’t he?” grinned that puncher. +“You’re some sore about that day when I cleaned +up all your cush at poker, ain’t you? Ain’t had +time to get over it, have you? Want to borrow +some?”</p> + +<p>“You want to look out for Humble, Jed,” +bantered Bud. “He’s taken a lesson at poker +from our cook since he played you. Didn’t you, +Easy?” he asked Humble.</p> + +<p>The roar of laughter which followed Bud’s +words forced Humble to stand treat: “Come on +over and have something with the only man in +the crowd that’s got any money,” he said.</p> + +<p>When they had lined up against the bar jokes +began to fly thick and fast and The Orphan felt a +peculiar elation steal over him as he slowly puffed +at his cigar. Suddenly the door flew open and +Bill’s glass dropped from his hand.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296'></a>296</span>“Bucknell, by God! And as drunk as a fool!” +he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>The puncher whom The Orphan had tied up +above the defile leaned against the door frame +and his gun wavered from point to point unsteadily +as he tried to peer into the dim interior of the +room, his face leering as he sought, with a courage +born of drink, for the man who had made a fool +of him.</p> + +<p>A bottle crashed against the wall at his side, and +as he lurched forward, glancing at the broken +glass, a figure leaped to meet him and with agile +strength grasped his right wrist, wheeled and got +his shoulder under Bucknell’s armpit, took two +short steps and straightened up with a jerk. The +intruder left the floor and flew headforemost +through the air, crashing against the rear wall, +where he fell to the floor and lay quiet. The +Orphan, having foresworn unnecessary gunplay, +and always scorning to shoot a drunken man, had +executed a clever, quick flying-mare.</p> + +<p>As the sheriff stepped into the room Blake ran +forward and lifted Bucknell to his feet, supporting +him until he could stand alone. The puncher was +greatly sobered by the shock and blinked confusedly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297'></a>297</span> +about him. The Orphan was smoking +nonchalantly at the bar and Bill had just given +the sheriff the victim’s gun.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter?” asked Bucknell, rubbing +his forehead, which was cut and bruised.</p> + +<p>“Nothing’s the matter, yet,” answered Shields +shortly. “But there would have been if you hadn’t +been too drunk to know what you was doing. I +saw you and tried to get here first, but it’s all right +now. Take your gun and get out. Here,” he +exclaimed, “you promise me to behave yourself +and you can go back to Sneed, for he needs you. +Otherwise, it’s out of the country after Tex for +you. Is it a go?”</p> + +<p>“What was that, and who done it?” asked +Bucknell, clinging to the bar. “What was it?” +he repeated.</p> + +<p>“That was me trying to throw you through the +wall,” said the sheriff, wishing to give Bucknell no +greater cause for animosity against The Orphan, +and for the peace of the community; and also +because he wished to help The Orphan to refrain +from using his gun in the future. “And I’d ’a’ +done it, too, only my hand was sweaty. Will you +do what I said?” he asked.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298'></a>298</span>Bucknell straightened up and staggered past the +sheriff to where The Orphan stood: “You done +that, but it’s all right, ain’t it?” he asked. “You +ain’t sore, are you?” His eyes had a crafty look, +but the dimness of the room concealed it, and The +Orphan did not notice the look.</p> + +<p>“It’s all right, Bucknell, and I ain’t sore,” he +replied. “I won’t be sore if you do what the +sheriff wants you to.”</p> + +<p>“All right, all right,” replied Bucknell. “Have +a drink on me, boys. It’s all right now, ain’t it? +Have a drink on me.”</p> + +<p>“No more drinking to-day,” quickly said the +bartender at a look from Shields. “All the good +stuff is used up and the rest ain’t fit for dogs, let +alone my friends. Wait ’til next time, when I’ll +have some new.”</p> + +<p>“That’s too d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d bad,” replied Bucknell, +leering at the crowd. “Have a smoke, then. +Come on, have a smoke with me.”</p> + +<p>“We shore will, Bucknell,” responded Shields +quickly.</p> + +<p>As the cowboy started for the door the sheriff +placed a hand on his shoulder: “You behave yourself, +Bucknell,” he said. “So long.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299'></a>299</span><a id='link_17'></a>CHAPTER XVII<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE FEAST</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>J</span>OYOUS whoops, loud and heartfelt, brought the women to the door of the +sheriff’s house in time to see their guests dismount. A perfect +babel of words greeted their appearance as the +cowboys burst into a running fire of jokes, salutations +and comments. Even the ponies seemed to +know that something important and unusual was +taking place, for they cavorted and bit and squealed +to prove that they were in accord with the spirit of +their riders and that thirty miles in less than three +hours had not subdued them. Bright colors prevailed, +for the neck-kerchiefs in most cases were +new and yet showed the original folding creases, +while new, clean thongs of rawhide and glittering +bits of metal flashed back the sunlight. Spurs glittered +and the clean looking horses appeared to have +had a dip in the Limping Water. Blake had +hunted through the carpeted rooms of his ranch-house +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300'></a>300</span> +for decorations, and in the drawer of a table +he had found a bunch of ribbons of many kinds and +shades. These now fluttered from the pommels of +the saddles and in one case a red ribbon was twined +about the leg of a vicious pinto, and the pinto was +not at all pleased by the decoration.</p> + +<p>The sheriff led the way to the house closely +followed by Blake, the others coming in the order +of their nerve. The Orphan was last, not from +lack of courage, but rather because of strategy. +He thought that Helen would remain at the door +to welcome each arrival and if he was in the van +he would be passed on to make way for those +behind him. Being the last man he hoped to be +able to say more to her than a few words of greeting. +As he mounted the steps she was drawn into +the room for something and he stepped to one side +on the porch, well knowing that she would miss +him.</p> + +<p>Bud poked his head out the door and started to +say something, but The Orphan fiercely whispered +for him to be silent and to disappear, which Bud +did after grinning exasperatingly.</p> + +<p>The man on the porch was growing impatient +when he heard the light swish of skirts around the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301'></a>301</span> +corner of the house. Sauntering carelessly to the +corner he looked into the back-yard and saw Helen +with a tray in her hands, nearing the back door. +She espied him and stopped, flushing suddenly as +he leaped lightly to the ground and walked rapidly +toward her. Her cheeks became a deeper red when +he stopped before her and took the tray, for his +eyes were rebellious and would not be subdued, +and the first thing she saw was the gold pin which +stood out boldly against the dark blue neck-kerchief. +She was rarely beautiful in her white +dress, and the ribbon which she wore at her throat +did not detract in its effect. Later her sister was +to wonder if it was a coincidence that the ribbon +and his neck-kerchief were so good a match in +color.</p> + +<p>She welcomed him graciously and he felt a sudden +new and strangely exhilarating sensation steal +over him as he took the hand she held out, the tray +all the while bobbing recklessly in his other hand.</p> + +<p>“Why aren’t you in the house paying your +respects to your hostess?” she chided half in jest +and half in earnest.</p> + +<p>“The delay will but add to my fervor when I +do,” he replied, “for I will have had a stimulus +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302'></a>302</span> +then. As long as the hostesses are four and insist +on not being together, how can I pay my respects +all at once?”</p> + +<p>“But there is only one hostess,” she laughingly +corrected. “I am afraid you are not very good at +making excuses. You probably never felt the need +to make them before. You see, I, too, am only a +guest.”</p> + +<p>“We two,” he corrected daringly.</p> + +<p>“I am very glad to see you,” she said, leading +away from plurals. “You are looking very well +and much more contented. And then, this is ever +so much nicer than our first meeting, isn’t it? No +horrid Apaches.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve gotten so that I rather like Apaches,” he +replied. “They are so useful at times. But you +mustn’t try to tempt me to subordinate that eventful +day, not yet. It can’t be done, although I’ve +never tried to do it,” he hastily assured her, making +a gesture of helplessness. “Sometimes an unexpected +incident will change the habits of a lifetime, +making the days seem brighter, and yet, somehow, +adding a touch of sadness. I have been a +stranger to myself since then, restless, absentminded, +moody and hungry for I know not what.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303'></a>303</span> +He paused and then slowly continued, “I must +beg to remain loyal to that day of all days when +you bathed an outlaw’s head and showed your +love for fair play and kindness.”</p> + +<p>“Goodness!” she cried, for one instant meeting +his eager eyes. “Why, I thought it was a terrible +day! And you really think differently?”</p> + +<p>“Very much so,” he assured her as she withdrew +her hand from his. “You see, it was such +a new and delightful experience to save a stage +coach and then find that it was a hospital with a +wonderful doctor. I accused that Apache of being +stingy with his lead, for he might just as well have +given me a few more wounds to have dressed.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she laughingly retorted, “it was almost +as new an experience as starting on a long and supposedly +peaceful journey and suddenly finding oneself +in the middle of a desert surrounded by dead +Indians and doctoring an Indian killer who was at +war with one’s brother. And that after a terrible +shaking up lasting for over an hour. Truly it is a +day to be remembered. Now, don’t you think you +should hurry in and greet my sister-in-law?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, certainly,” he quickly responded. “But +before I lose the opportunity I must ask you if you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304'></a>304</span> +will care if I ride over and see you occasionally, +because it is terribly lonely on that ranch.”</p> + +<p>“You know that we shall always be glad to see +you whenever you can call,” she replied, smiling up +at him. “We are all very deep in your debt and +brother and all of us think a great deal of you. +Are you satisfied on the Star C, and do you like +your work and your companions?”</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” he cried happily, “I will ride +over and see you once in a while. But as for my +work, it is delightful! The Star C is fine and my +companions–well, they just simply can’t be beat! +they are the finest, whitest set of men that ever +gathered under one roof.”</p> + +<p>“That’s very nice, I am glad that you find things +so congenial,” she replied in sincerity. “James +was sure that you would, for Mr. Blake is an old +friend of his.”</p> + +<p>“I’m very anxious about this pin,” he said, putting +his hand on it. “May I keep it for a while +longer?” he asked with a note of appeal in his +voice.</p> + +<p>“Why, yes,” she replied, “if you wish to. But +only as long as you do not displease me, and you +will not do that, will you? James has such deep +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305'></a>305</span> +confidence in you that I know you will not disappoint +him. You will justify him in his own mind +and in the minds of his acquaintances and prove +that he has not erred in judgment, won’t you?”</p> + +<p>“If I am the sum total of your brother’s trouble, +he will have a path of roses to wander through all +the rest of his life,” he responded earnestly. “And +I’m really afraid that you will never again wear +this pin as a possession of yours. Of course you +can borrow it occasionally,” and he smiled whimsically, +“but as far as displeasing you is concerned, +it is mine forever. It will really and truly be mine +on that condition, won’t it? My very own if I do +not forfeit it?”</p> + +<p>“If you wish it so,” she replied quickly, her face +radiant with smiles. “And you will work hard +and you will never shoot a man, no matter what +the provocation may be, unless it is absolutely necessary +to do it for the saving of your own life or that +of a friend or an innocent man. Promise me that!” +she commanded imperatively, pleased at being able +to dictate to him. “Men like you never break a +promise,” she added impulsively.</p> + +<p>“I promise never to shoot a man, woman, child +or–or anybody,” he laughingly replied, “unless +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306'></a>306</span> +it is necessary to save life. And I’ll work real +hard and save my money. And on Sundays, rain +or shine, I’ll ride in and report to my new foreman.” +Then a bit of his old humor came to him: +“For I just about need this pin–knots are so +clumsy, you know.”</p> + +<p>She glanced at the knot which held the pin and +laughed merrily, leading the way into the house.</p> + +<p>As they entered Humble was extolling the virtues +of his dog, to the broad grins of his companions, +who constantly added amendments and +made corrections <i>sotto voce.</i></p> + +<p>“Why, here they are!” cried the sheriff in such +a tone as to suffuse Helen’s face with blushes. The +Orphan coolly shook hands with him.</p> + +<p>“Yes, here we are, Sheriff, every one of us,” +he replied. “We couldn’t be expected to stay away +when Mrs. Shields put herself to so much trouble, +and we’re all happy and proud to be so honored. +How do you do, Mrs. Shields,” he continued as he +took her hand. “It is awful kind of you to go to +such trouble for a lot of lonely, hungry fellows +like us.”</p> + +<p>“Goodness sakes!” she cried, delighted at his +words and pleased at the way he had parried her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307'></a>307</span> +husband’s teasing thrust. “Why, it was no trouble +at all–you are all my boys now, you know.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Mrs. Shields,” he replied slowly. +“We will do our very best to prove ourselves +worthy of being called your boys.”</p> + +<p>The sheriff regarded The Orphan with a look +of approbation and turned to his sister Helen.</p> + +<p>“He ain’t nobody’s fool, eh, Sis?” he whispered. +“I’m wondering how you ever made up +your mind to share him with us!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, please don’t!” she begged in confusion. +“Please don’t tease me now!”</p> + +<p>“All right, Sis,” he replied in a whisper, pinching +her ear. “I’ll save it all up for some other +time, some time when he ain’t around to turn it +off, eh? But I don’t blame him a bit for exploring +the yard first–you’re the prettiest girl this side +of sun-up,” he said, beaming with love and pride. +“How’s that for a change, eh? Worth a kiss?”</p> + +<p>She kissed him hurriedly and then left the room +to attend to her duties in the kitchen, and he sauntered +over to where The Orphan was talking with +Mrs. Shields, his hand rubbing his lips and a mischievous +twinkle in his kind eyes.</p> + +<p>“Did you notice the new flower-bed right by the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308'></a>308</span> +side of the house as you ran past it a while ago?” +he asked, flashing a keen warning to his wife.</p> + +<p>The Orphan searched his memory for the flower-bed +and not finding it, turned and smiled, not willing +to admit that his attention had been too fully +taken up with a fairer flower than ever grew in +earth.</p> + +<p>“Why, yes, it is real pretty,” he replied. +“What about it?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, nothing much,” gravely replied the sheriff +as he edged away. “Only we were thinking +of putting a flower-bed there, although I haven’t +had time to get at it yet.”</p> + +<p>The Orphan flushed and glanced quickly at the +outfit, who were too busy cracking jokes and laughing +to pay any attention to the conversation across +the room.</p> + +<p>“James!” cried Mrs. Shields. “Aren’t you +ashamed of yourself!”</p> + +<p>“When you tickle a mule,” said the sheriff, grinning +at his friend, “you want to look out for the +kick. Come again sometime, Sonny.”</p> + +<p>“James!” his wife repeated, “how can you be +so mean! Now, stop teasing and behave yourself!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309'></a>309</span>“For a long time I’ve been puzzled about what +you resembled, but now I have your words for it,” +easily countered The Orphan. “Thank you for +putting me straight.”</p> + +<p>The sheriff grinned sheepishly and scratched his +head: “I’m an old fool,” he grumbled, and forthwith +departed to tell Helen of the fencing.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Shields excused herself and followed her +husband into the kitchen to look after the dinner, +and The Orphan sauntered over to his outfit just +as Jim looked out of a rear window. Jim turned +quickly, his face wearing a grin from ear to ear.</p> + +<p>“Hey, Bud!” he called eagerly. “Bud!”</p> + +<p>“What?” asked Bud, turning at the hail.</p> + +<p>“Come over here for a minute, I want to show +you something,” Jim replied, “but don’t let Humble +come.”</p> + +<p>Bud obeyed and looked: “Jimminee!” he exulted. +“Don’t that look sumptious, though? This +is where we shine, all right.” Then turned: +“Hey, fellows, come over here and take a look.”</p> + +<p>As they crowded around the window Humble +discovered that something was in the wind and +he followed them. What they saw was a long +table beneath two trees, and it was covered with a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310'></a>310</span> +white cloth and dressed for a feast. Bud turned +quickly from the crowd and forcibly led Humble +to a side window before that unfortunate had seen +anything and told him to put his finger against the +glass, which Humble finally did after an argument.</p> + +<p>“Feel the pain?” Bud asked.</p> + +<p>“Why, no,” Humble replied, looking critically +at his finger. “What’s the matter with you, anyhow?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing,” replied Bud. “Think it over, +Humble,” he advised, turning away.</p> + +<p>Humble again put his finger to the glass and +then snorted:</p> + +<p>“Locoed chump! Prosperity is making him +nutty!” When he turned he saw his friends laughing +silently at him and making grimaces, and a light +suddenly broke in upon him.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I did!” he cried. “That joke is so old +I plumb forgot it years ago! Spring something +that hasn’t got whiskers and a halting step, will +you?”</p> + +<p>Jim laughed and suggested a dance, but was +promptly squelched.</p> + +<p>“You heathen!” snorted Blake in mock horror. +“This is Sunday! If you want to dance wait till +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311'></a>311</span> +you get back to the ranch–suppose one of the +women was here and heard you say that!”</p> + +<p>“Gee, I forgot all about it being Sunday,” replied +Jim, quickly looking to see if any of the +women were in the room. “We’re regular barbarians, +ain’t we!” he exclaimed in self-condemnation +and relief when he saw that no women were +present. “We’re regular land pirates, ain’t we?”</p> + +<p>“You’ll be asking to play poker yet, or have a +race,” jabbed Humble with malice. “You ain’t +got no sense and never did have any.”</p> + +<p>“Huh!” retorted Jim belligerently, “I won’t +try to learn a Chinee cook how to play poker and +get skinned out of my pay, anyhow! Got +enough?” he asked, “or shall I tell of the time you +drifted into Sagetown and asked<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“Shut up, you fool!” whispered Humble ferociously. +“Yu’ll get skun if you say too much!”</p> + +<p>“’Skun’ is real good,” retorted Jim. “Got +any more of them new words to spring on us?”</p> + +<p>Helen had been passing to and fro past the +window and Docile Thomas here put his marveling +into words, for he had been casting covert glances +at her, but now his restraint broke.</p> + +<p>“Gee whiz!” he exclaimed in a whisper to Jack +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312'></a>312</span> +Lawson. “Ain’t she a regular hummer, now! +Lines like a thoroughbred, face like a dream and +a smile what shore is a winner! See her hair–fine +and dandy, eh? She’s in the two-forty class, +all right!” he enthused. “Why, when this country +wakes up to what’s in it the sheriff will have to +put up a stockade around this house and mount +guard. Everybody from Bill up will be stampeding +this way to talk business with the sheriff. No +wonder The Orphan has got a bee in his bonnet–lucky +dog!”</p> + +<p>“She can take care of my pay every month +just as soon as she says the word,” Jack replied. +“But suppose you look away once in a while? Suppose +you shift your sights! You, too, Humble,” +he said, suddenly turning on the latter.</p> + +<p>“Me what?” asked Humble, without interest +and without shifting his gaze. “What are you +talking about?”</p> + +<p>“Look at something else, see?”</p> + +<p>“Shore I see,” replied Humble. “That’s why +I’m looking. Do you think I look with my eyes +shut! Gee, but ain’t she a picture, though!”</p> + +<p>“She shore is, but give it a rest, take a vacation, +you chump!” retorted Jack. “You’re staring at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313'></a>313</span> +her like she had you hoodooed. Come out of your +trance–wake up and make a fool of yourself some +other way. Don’t aim all the time at her. Mebby +Lee Lung has killed your dog!”</p> + +<p>“If he has we’ll need a new cook,” replied +Humble with decision.</p> + +<p>“Come on, boys! Don’t start milling!” cried +the sheriff, suddenly entering the room. “Dinner’s +all ready and waiting for us. And I shore +hope you have all got your best appetites with you, +because Margaret likes to see her food taken care of +lively. If you don’t clean it all up she’ll think you +don’t like it,” he said, winking at Blake, “and if +she once gets that notion in her head it will be no +more invitations for the Star C.”</p> + +<p>There was much excitement in the crowd, and +the replies came fast.</p> + +<p>“I ain’t had anything good to eat for fifteen +long, aching years!” cried Bud. “When I get +through you’ll need a new table.</p> + +<p>“Same here, only for thirty years,” replied Jim +hastily. “I just couldn’t sleep last night for thinking +about the glorious surprise my abused stomach +was due to have to-day. I’ll bet my gun on my +performance if the track is heavy, all right. I’m +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314'></a>314</span> +not poor on speed, and I’m a stayer from Stayersville.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I won’t be among the also rans, you can +bet on that,” laughed Silent. “I don’t weigh very +much, but I’m geared high.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll bet it’s good!” cried Humble, “I’ll bet +it’s real good!”</p> + +<p>“D<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n good, you mean!” corrected Jack. +“Hey, fellows!” he cried, “did you hear what +Humble said? He said that he’d bet it was <i>real</i> +good!”</p> + +<p>“Horray for Humble, the wit of the Star C,” +laughed Docile.</p> + +<p>“Me for the apricot pie!” exulted Charley. +“Here’s where I get square on Blake for rubbing +it in all these months about the fine pie he gets +over here.”</p> + +<p>“There ain’t no apricot pie,” gravely lied the +sheriff in surprise.</p> + +<p>“What!” cried Charley in alarm. “There +ain’t none for me! Oh, well, you can’t lose me in +daylight, for I’ll double up on everything else. I +ain’t going to get left, all right!”</p> + +<p>“Don’t wake me up,” begged Joe Haines. +“Let me dream on in peace and plenty. Grub, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315'></a>315</span> +real, genuine grub, grub what is grub! Oh, +joy!”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Shields hurried into the room and then +paused in surprise when she saw that the outfit had +not moved toward the feast.</p> + +<p>“Land sakes!” she cried. “Aren’t you boys +hungry, or is James up to some of his everlasting +teasing again!”</p> + +<p>“You talk to her, Bud,” whispered Jim eagerly. +“I’m so scary I shore can’t.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, go ahead, Bud!” came instant and unanimous +endorsement in whispers.</p> + +<p>“Well, ma’am,” began Bud, clearing his throat, +glancing around uneasily to be sure that the crowd +was giving him moral backing, and feeling uncomfortable, +“we was just getting up a–a<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“B, C, D,” prompted Jim in a whisper.</p> + +<p>“We was just getting up a resolution of thanks, +Mrs. Shields,” he continued, stabbing his elbow +into the stomach of the offending Jim. “You shut +up!” he fiercely whispered. “I’m carrying one +hundred and forty pounds now without the saddle!” +Then he continued: “We all of us are plumb +tickled about this, so plumb tickled we don’t hardly +know what to say<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_316'></a>316</span>“That’s right,” whispered Jim, folding his arms +across his stomach. “You’re proving it, all right.”</p> + +<p>Silent and Jack hauled Jim to the rear and Bud +continued unruffled: “But we want to thank you, +ma’am, from the bottoms, the very lowest bottoms +of our hearts for your kindness to a orphant outfit +what ain’t had anything to eat since the war, and +very little during it. Joe Haines, here, ma’am, was +just saying as how he was a-scared that it is all +a dream<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t neither!” fiercely contradicted Joe in +a whisper, looking very self-conscious. He was +whisked to the rear to join Jim and the speech +went on.</p> + +<p>“He is afraid it is a dream, ma’am, and I know +we all of us have more or less doubts about it being +really true. But, ma’am, we shore are anxious to +find out all about it. We’ve rid thirty miles to see +for ourselves, and I don’t reckon you’ll have any +fears about our appetites being left at home when +you sizes up the wreck left in the path of the storm +after the stampede is over. The boys want to give +you three cheers even if it is Sunday, ma’am, for +your kindness to them, and I’m shore one of the +boys!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_317'></a>317</span>“Hip, hip, horray!” yelled the crowd, surging +forward.</p> + +<p>“Good boy, Bud!” they cried.</p> + +<p>“I’m proud of you, Buddie!” exulted Charley, +slapping him extra heartily on the back.</p> + +<p>“I didn’t know you had it in you, Bud!” cried +Silent. “It was shore a dandy speech, all right.”</p> + +<p>“We’ll send you to Congress for that, some +day, Bud,” cried Jack Lawson. “You’re all +right!”</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p>“I once had a piece of pie, a piece of pie, a piece of pie,</p> +<p>I once had a piece of pie, when I was five years old,”</p> +</div> + +<p>sang Charley as he pranced toward the door.</p> + +<p>“Good! Go on, Charley, go on!” cried his +companions joyously.</p> + +<div class='poetry'> +<p>“Now I’ll have another piece, another piece, another piece,</p> +<p>Now I’ll have another piece, that’s two all told.</p> +<p> </p> +<p>Good bye, Lee Lung, good bye Lee Lung,</p> +<p>Good bye, Lee Lung, we’re going to forget you now!”</p> +</div> + +<p>“Again on that Lee Lung, altogether–it hits +me right!” cried Bud, and the matter pertaining +to the farewells to Lee Lung was promptly and +properly attended to in heartfelt sincerity.</p> + +<p>The ladies laughed with delight, and Mrs. +Shields whispered to her husband, who nodded and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_318'></a>318</span> +escorted The Orphan to a seat near the head of +the table, where he was flanked by Helen and +Blake.</p> + +<p>“Grab your partners, boys,” the sheriff cried, +pointing to the chairs. There was a hasty piling +of belts and guns on the ground, and after much +confusion all were seated.</p> + +<p>The sheriff arose: “Boys, Mrs. Shields wants +me to tell you how pleased she is to have you all +here. She has felt plumb sorry about you and she +shore has shuddered at the thought of a Chinee +cook<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“Which same we all do–it’s chronic,” interposed +Jim to laughter.</p> + +<p>“She wants you to make yourselves at home,” +continued the sheriff, “learn the lay of the land +around this range and never forget the trail leading +here, because she insists that when any of you +come to town you have simply got to pay us a visit +and see if there is a piece of pie or cake to eat +before you go back to that cook. And Tom says +that he’ll fire the first man who renigs<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“I’m going to carry the mail hereafter!” cried +Bud, scowling fiercely at Joe.</p> + +<p>“Not if I can shoot first, you don’t!” retorted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_319'></a>319</span> +the mail carrier. “I was just a-wondering if it +wouldn’t be better to come in twice a week for it +instead of once. We might get more letters.”</p> + +<p>“We’ll bid for your job next year,” laughed +Silent.</p> + +<p>“Before I coax you to eat,” continued the sheriff, +“I<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“Wrong word, Sheriff,” interposed Humble. +“Not coax, but force.”</p> + +<p>“I am going to ask you to reverse things a little, +and drink a standing toast to the man who +saved the stage, to the man who saved Miss Ritchie +and my sisters and who made this dinner possible. +This would be far from a happy day but for him. +I want you to drink to the long life and happiness +of The Orphan. All up!”</p> + +<p>The clink of glasses was lost in the spontaneous +cheer which burst from the lips of the former outlaw’s +new friends, and he sat confused and embarrassed +with a sudden timidity, his face crimson.</p> + +<p>“Speech!” cried Jim, the others joining in the +cry. “Speech! Speech!”</p> + +<p>Finally, after some urging, The Orphan slowly +arose to his feet, a foolish smile playing about his +lips.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_320'></a>320</span>“It wasn’t anything,” he said deprecatingly. +“You all would have done it, every one of you. +But I’m glad it was me. I’m glad I was on hand, +although it wasn’t anything to make all this fuss +about,” and he dropped suddenly into his seat, +feeling hot and uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>“Well, we have different ideas about its being +nothing,” replied the sheriff. “Now, boys, a toast +to Bill Halloway,” he requested. “Bill couldn’t +get here to-day, but we mustn’t forget him. His +splendid grit and driving made it possible for our +friend to play his hand so well.”</p> + +<p>“Hurrah for Bill!” cried Silent, leaping to his +feet with the others. When seated again he looked +quickly at his glass and turned to Bud.</p> + +<p>“Real sweet cider!” he exulted. “Good Lord, +but how time gallops past! I’d almost forgotten +what it was like! It’s been over twenty years since +I tasted any! Ain’t it fine?”</p> + +<p>“I was wondering what it was,” remarked +Humble, a trace of awe in his voice as he refilled +his glass. “It’s shore enough sweet cider, and +blamed good, too!”</p> + +<p>Charley was romping with the mail carrier and +he had a sudden inspiration: “Speech from Joe! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_321'></a>321</span> +Speech for the pieces of pie and cake he’s due to +get!”</p> + +<p>“Now, look here, boy,” Joe gravely replied. +“I’m the mail carrier. I don’t have to go on jury +duty, lead religion round-ups, go to war or make +speeches. As the books say, I’m exempt. All I +have to do is punch cows, rustle the mail and eat +pie and cake once a week,” he said, glancing at +Bud, who glared and groaned.</p> + +<p>“Good boy, Joe!” cried Humble, waving his +glass excitedly. “You’re shore all right, you are, +and I’m your deputy, ain’t I?”</p> + +<p>“No, not my deputy, but my delirium,” corrected +Joe.</p> + +<p>“Glory be!” cried Silent as his plate was passed +to him. “Chicken, real chicken! Mashed potatoes, +mashed turnips and dressing and gravy! And +here comes stewed corn, boiled onions and jelly +and mother’s bread. And stewed tomatoes? Well, +well! I guess we ain’t going to be well fed, and +real happy, eh, fellows? My stomach won’t know +what’s the matter–it’ll think it died and went to +heaven by mistake. Holy smoke! It hurts my +eyes. What, cranberry jam? Well, I’m just going +to close my eyes for a minute if you don’t mind; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_322'></a>322</span> +I want to recuperate from the shock. This is where +I live again!”</p> + +<p>Humble stared in rapture at the feast before him +and finally heaved a long drawn sigh of doubt and +content.</p> + +<p>“Gee!” he cried softly, a far-away look in his +eyes. “Look at it, just look at it! Just like I +used to get when I was a little tad back in Connecticut–but +that was shore a long time ago. +Well,” he exclaimed, bracing up and bravely forgetting +his boyhood, “there’s one thing I hope, and +that is that Lee beats my dog. Then I can shoot +him and get square for all these years of imitation +grub what he’s handed out to me!”</p> + +<p>“Hey, Tom!” eagerly cried Charley, “why +can’t we handle a herd of chickens out on the ranch, +and have a garden? Why, we could have eggs +every day and chickens on holidays!”</p> + +<p>“No wonder Tom likes to ride to town,” +laughed Silent. “Gee whiz, I’d walk it for pie and +cake and real genuine coffee!”</p> + +<p>“Walk it!” snorted Jim. “Huh, I’d crawl, +and stand on my head, knock my feet together and +crow every half mile! Walk it, huh!”</p> + +<p>Merriment reigned supreme throughout the meal +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_323'></a>323</span> +and when the bashfulness had worn off the conversation +became fast and furious, abounding in terse +wit, verbal attacks and clever counters, and in +concentrated onslaughts against the unfortunate +Humble, who soon found, however, a new and +loyal champion in Miss Ritchie, who took his part. +Her assistance was so doughty as to more than +once put to rout his tormentors, and before the dessert +had been reached he was her devoted slave +and admirer and was henceforth to sing her +praises at every opportunity, and even to make +opportunities.</p> + +<p>At The Orphan’s end of the table all was serene. +He, Helen, Blake and the sheriff found much to +talk about, and all the while Mrs. Shields regarded +the four in a motherly way, and tempered the keenness +of her husband’s wit, for he was prone to break +lances with The Orphan and to tease his sister, +much to her confusion. She was very happy, for +here at her side were her husband and the man +she had feared would harm him, laughing and joking +and the best of friends; and down the table +a crowd of big-hearted boys, her boys now, were +having the time of their lives. They were good +boys, too, she told herself; a trifle rough, but sterling +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_324'></a>324</span> +at the heart, and every one of them a loyal +friend. How good it was to see them eat and hear +them laugh, all happy and mischievous. The welding +of the units had been finished, and now the +Star C and The Orphan were one in spirit.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_325'></a>325</span><a id='link_18'></a>CHAPTER XVIII<br /><span class='h2fs'>PREPARATION</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>A</span>FTER the dinner at the sheriff’s house, life meant much to The Orphan, +for the dinner had done its work and done it well. Whatever +had been missing to complete the good fellowship +between him and the others had been supplied +and by the time the outfit was ready to leave +for home, all corners had been rounded and all +rough edges smoothed down. With his outfit he +was in hearty, loyal accord, and the spirit of the +ranch had become his own. With the sheriff his +already strong liking had been stripped of any +undesirable qualities, and he felt that Shields was +not only the whitest man he had ever met, but also +his best friend. He had become more intimate +with the sheriff’s household, and for Mrs. Shields +he had only love and respect.</p> + +<p>With Helen his cup was full to overflowing, for +he had managed to hold several long talks with her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_326'></a>326</span> +during the afternoon, and to his mind he had heard +nothing detrimental to his hopes. His eyes had +been opened as to what it was he had been hungering +for, and the knowledge thrilled him to his finger-tips. +He was a red-blooded, clean-limbed man, +direct of words and purpose, reveling in a joyous, +surging, vigorous health, in tune with his surroundings; +he was dominant, fearless, and he had a +saving grace in his humor. To him came visions +of the future, golden as the sunrise, rich in promise +and assurance as to a happiness such as he could +only feebly feel. Himself he was sure of, for he +feared no failure on his part; as far as he was concerned +it was won. Helen, he believed from what +the day had given him, would not refuse him when +the time came for her to decide, and his effervescent +spirits sent a song to his lips, which he hurled to the +sky as a war-cry, a slogan of triumph and a defiance.</p> + +<p>As yet he knew nothing of the sheriff’s plans, and +his thoughts concerning his future position in the +community did not dare to soar above that of foreman +of some ranch. To this end he would bend +his energies with all the power of his splendid +trinity–heart, mind and body. He was far too +happy to think of failure, because there would be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_327'></a>327</span> +none; had the word passed through his mind he +would have laughed it into oblivion. His experience +gave him confidence, for he was no weakling +sheltered and protected by any guiding angel; to +the contrary, he was the survivor of a bitter war +against conditions which would have destroyed a +less strong man; he was victor over himself and +his enemies, a conqueror of adverse conditions, a +hewer of his own path; his enemies had been his +best friends, and his long fight, his salvation. For +ten years he had constantly fought a bitter fight +against nature and man; hunger and thirst, plots +and ambushes had all played their parts, and he +had won out over all of them. He was young, +hopeful and unafraid, and now that he was on the +right trail he would bend every energy to stay there, +and he would stay there, be the opposition what it +might; and if the opposition should be man, and of +a strength dangerous to him, he would destroy it +as he had destroyed others before it. While now +scorning to use his gun on every provocation he +would depend upon it as on a court of last resort–and +its decision would be final.</p> + +<p>He held ill wishes against no man save one, and +that one was the man who had placed the rope +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_328'></a>328</span> +about the neck of his father. He did not know +that man’s name, and he did not know that he +might not be among those who had already paid +for that crime. But should he ever learn that he +lived he would take payment in full be the cost what +it might.</p> + +<p>But he had no thoughts for strife, he only knew +that the sun had never been so bright, the sky so +blue and the plain so full of life and beauty as it +was on this perfect day. Only one other day +rivaled it–the day he had swayed weakly by the +side of a dusty coach and had felt warm, soft +fingers touching his forehead. But, he told himself +with joy, there would be days to come which would +eclipse even that.</p> + +<p>He was aroused from his reverie by the approach +of the foreman, who gave him a hearty hail and +smiled at the happy expression on the puncher’s +face.</p> + +<p>“Well, you look like you had struck it rich!” +cried Blake. “What is it, gold or silver?”</p> + +<p>“Gold or silver!” cried The Orphan in contempt +at such cheapness. “By God, Blake, I +wouldn’t sell my claim for all the gold and silver +in this fool earth! Gold or silver! Why, man, I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_329'></a>329</span> +know where there is plenty of both. Here,” he +cried, plunging his hand into his chaps pocket, +“look at this!”</p> + +<p>The foreman looked and whistled and took the +object into his hand, where he examined it critically. +“By George, it’s the yellow metal, all right, and +blamed near pure!” He returned it to its owner +and added: “That’s the real stuff, Orphan.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is,” replied the other as he pocketed the +nugget. “And I know where it came from. +There’s plenty left that’s just like it, but I wouldn’t +go after it if it was diamonds.”</p> + +<p>“You wouldn’t!” exclaimed Blake in surprise. +“By George, I’d go to-morrow, to-night, if I knew. +Gold like that ain’t to be sneered at. It spells +ranches, ease, plenty, anything you want. And you +wouldn’t go for it?”</p> + +<p>“No, I wouldn’t, and I won’t,” replied the +puncher. “I’m going to stay right here on this +range and make good with my hands and brains. +I’m going to win the game with the cards I hold, +and when I say win I mean it. There are times +when gold is a dangerous thing to have, and this +is one of them, as you’ll understand when I disclose +my hand. When I win I won’t need gold +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_330'></a>330</span> +bad enough to go through hell and hot water for +it and risk not getting back to my claim, and it’s +one hundred to one that I wouldn’t get back, too. +And if I lose, mind you, <i>if</i>, I won’t have any use +for it. I picked that nugget up in the middle of the +damnedest desert God ever made, and when I got +off it I was loco for a week. I won’t tell any +friend of mine where it is because I want my friends +to go on drawing their breath. I need my friends +a whole lot, and that’s why I don’t tell you where +it is. I was saving that for my enemies. Two have +gone after it already, and haven’t been heard of +since.”</p> + +<p>“Well, you are the first man who ever told +me that gold isn’t worth going after, and you +have convinced me that in your case you are right,” +laughed the foreman.</p> + +<p>“You wouldn’t have to be told if you knew that +desert as I do,” replied The Orphan.</p> + +<p>“How was the sheriff last night?” asked Blake. +“Or didn’t you notice, being too much occupied +in your claim?”</p> + +<p>The Orphan looked at him and then laughed +softly: “He was the same as ever–the best man +I ever knew. But how in thunder do you know +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_331'></a>331</span> +about my claim? How did you know what I +meant? I thought that I had covered that trail +pretty well.”</p> + +<p>Blake put his hand on his friend’s shoulders +and gravely looked at him: “Son, having eyes, I +see; having ears, I hear; having brains, I think. If +you have been fooling yourself that you are on +a quiet trail, just listen to this: There ain’t a man +who knows you well that don’t know what you’re +playing for, even Bill had it all mapped out the +second time he saw you. And most of us wish you +luck. You’re not a man who needs help, but if +you <i>do</i> need it, you know where to come for it.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Blake,” replied The Orphan, +eagerly filling his lungs with the crisp air. “That’s +why I ain’t hankering for that gold–I’m too +blamed busy making my own.”</p> + +<p>“Well, what I wanted to speak to you about is +this,” said the foreman, thinking quickly as to how +to say it. “Old man Crawford got me to promise +that I’d pick up a herd of cows for him before fall. +Now, I would just as soon do it myself as not, +but if you want to try your hand at it, go ahead. +He wants about five thousand, to be delivered in +five herds, a thousand each, at his corrals. He +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_332'></a>332</span> +won’t pay any more than the regular price for +them, and the more you can drop the price the +better he will like it, of course. They must be +good, healthy cattle and be delivered to him before +payment is made. What do you say?”</p> + +<p>“I say that it’s a go!” cried The Orphan. +“I’ve had some great luck lately!” he exulted. +“I’m ready to go after them whenever you say the +word, to-night if you say so. And I’ll get the +right number and kind or know the reason why. +And I’ll take a hand in driving the last herd to +him myself. Good Lord, what luck!”</p> + +<p>Blake talked a while longer about the trip, giving +necessary instructions about prices and where +he would be likely to find the herd, and then rode +off in the direction of Ford’s Station for a consultation +with his friend, the sheriff.</p> + +<p>“Hullo, Tom!” came from the stage office as +he rode past. He quickly turned his head and then +stopped, smiling broadly.</p> + +<p>“Why, hullo, Bill,” he replied. “Glad to see +you. How are things? Had any trouble lately?”</p> + +<p>“Nope, times are real dull since that day in the +defile,” Bill answered with a grin. “I saw Tex +once at Sagetown, but he ain’t talking none these +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_333'></a>333</span> +days, he’s too busy thinking. You see, I’ve got a +purty strong combination backing me and nobody +feels like starting it a-going, because there ain’t no +telling just where it’ll stop. The Orphant and the +sheriff make a blamed good team, all right.”</p> + +<p>“None better at any game, Bill,” replied Blake. +“And you used the right word, too. They’re +going to pull together from now on, in fact, the +Star C will be in harness with them.”</p> + +<p>“That’s the way to talk!” cried Bill enthusiastically. +“I always said that Orphant was a white +man, even before I ever saw him,” he said, forgetting +much that he might be in hearty accord. “He +can call on me any time he needs me, you bet. He +cheated the devil twice with me, and I ain’t a-going +to forget it. But say, what do you think of the +sheriff’s sister, Helen? Ain’t she a winner, hey? +Finest girl these parts have ever seen, all right, +and her friend ain’t second by no length, neither.”</p> + +<p>“Why, Bill,” exclaimed Blake, a twinkle coming +to his eyes, “you are not allowing yourself +to get captured, are you? That’s a risky game, +like starting up The Orphan and the sheriff, for +there’s no telling just where it will stop.”</p> + +<p>“No, I ain’t letting myself get captured,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_334'></a>334</span> +sighed Bill. “I ain’t no fool. Bill Howland +knows a thing or two, which he learned not more +than a thousand years ago. I’ve got it all sized +up. And since then I’ve seen a certain bang-up +puncher hitting the trail for the sheriff’s house +some regular twice a week. Nope, I’m a batchler +now and forever, long may I wave.”</p> + +<p>“Say,” he continued, suddenly remembering +something. “What’s the sheriff up to now? Is +he going to have a picnic out on Crawford’s ranch? +He asked me if he could have the lend of the +stage on an off day some time soon. Wants me to +drive it for him out to the A-Y and back. I don’t +know what his game is, and I don’t care none. I’ll +do it, all right. But what’s he going to do out +there, anyhow?”</p> + +<p>Blake laughed: “Oh, nothing bad, I reckon. +You’ll probably learn all about it as soon as the +rest of us. How do you expect me to know anything +about it? Mebby he is going to have a +picnic out there for all we know. The A-Y is a +good place for one, ain’t it?”</p> + +<p>“You just bet it is,” cried Bill. “Your ranch +is all right, Blake, but I like the A-Y better. It’s +got windmills and everything. Finest grove near +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_335'></a>335</span> +the ranch-house that I ever saw, and I’ve seen some +fine groves in my time. Old man Crawford knew +a good thing when he saw it, all right. Here +comes Charley Winter like he had all day to go +nowhere–he’s got a good job with the Cross +Bar-8, but I wouldn’t have it for a gift–no, sir, +money wouldn’t tempt me to be one of that outfit. +But I reckon it’s some better out there than it once +was since the sheriff and The Orphant amputated +its inflamed fingers. Hullo, Charley,” he cried as +the newcomer drew rein. “I was just telling Blake +what a good job you have got with Sneed.”</p> + +<p>“Hullo, you old one-hoss driver,” grinned Charley. +“Hullo, Tom,” he cried. “Looking for the +sheriff?”</p> + +<p>“Hullo, Charley,” said the foreman, shaking +hands with Sneed’s substitute puncher. “Yes, I +am. Do you know where he is?”</p> + +<p>“He’s out at the Cross Bar-8, giving Sneed a +talking to,” Charley answered. “Bucknell went +and got loaded again last night, raised h–l in +town and out of it all the way home. He thought +he wanted to shoot up The Orphan, so he was some +primed. Jim is telling Sneed to hold him down to +water and peace unless he wants to lose him. He’ll +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_336'></a>336</span> +be in soon, though. How’s The Orphan getting +on out at your place?”</p> + +<p>“Fine!” answered Blake, his face wearing a +frown. “But I’m some sorry about that fool +Bucknell, though. He may get on a spree some +day and <i>find</i> The Orphan. I don’t want any more +gunplay, and if that idiot does find him and gets +ambitious to notch up his gun another hole, there’ll +shore be some loose lead. If he ever gets on +Star C ground, and I catch him there, I’ll shore +enough wipe up the earth with him, and when you +see him, just tell him what I said, will you? It +ain’t no joke, for I will.”</p> + +<p>“Shore I’ll tell him,” replied Charley. “When +will that bunch of cattle be on hand–I’m anxious +to swap jobs.”</p> + +<p>Blake flashed him a warning glance and tried +to ignore the question by changing the subject, but +it was too late, for Bill was curious.</p> + +<p>“What cattle is that, Charley?” asked the +driver in sudden interest.</p> + +<p>“Oh, some cattle that I’m going to get of Blake +for Sneed,” lied Charley easily.</p> + +<p>“What in all get out does Sneed want with any +Star C cows?” Bill asked in surprise. “He’s got +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_337'></a>337</span> +plenty of cows of his own, unless The Orphant +shot a whole lot more than I thought he did.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, Bill,” replied Charley. “I +didn’t ask him, it being plainly none of my business.”</p> + +<p>Bill scratched his head: “No, I reckon not,” he +replied doubtfully.</p> + +<p>“Here comes Shields now,” said Blake suddenly. +“I reckon I’ll ride off and meet him. So long, +Bill.”</p> + +<p>“So long,” replied Bill. “Be sure to tell The +Orphan I was asking about him. So long, Charley.” +He turned abruptly and entered the stage +office: “I don’t understand it,” he muttered. +“There’s something in the wind that I can’t get +onto nohow. He has shore got me guessing some, +all right.”</p> + +<p>The clerk tossed aside the paper and stared: +“Well, that’s too d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d bad, now ain’t it?” he +asked sarcastically. “You ought to object, that’s +what you ought to do! What right has anybody +to keep quiet about their own business when you +want to know, hey? If I wanted to know everybody’s +business as bad as you do, I’d shore raise +h–l, I would. Why don’t you choke it out of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_338'></a>338</span> +him, wipe up the earth with him? Go out right +now and give him a piece of your mind.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you would, would you! You’re blamed +smart, now ain’t you? You work too hard–your +nerves are giving away,” drawled Bill as he +picked up the paper. “Sitting around all day with +your feet on the table and a pipe in your mouth +that you’re too lazy to light, working like the very +devil trying to find time to do the company’s business, +which there ain’t none to do. Ain’t you +ashamed to go to bed?–it must take a lot of gall +to hunt your rest at night after finding it and hugging +it all day. What would you do for a living +if I forgot to bring the paper with me some day, +hey? You ain’t got enough animation to want to +know what is going on in this little world of ours, +you<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>“You get out of here, right now, too!” yelled +the clerk. “I don’t want you hanging around bothering +me, you pest! Get out of here right now, +before I get up and throw you out! Do you +hear me!”</p> + +<p>Bill crossed his legs, pushed back his sombrero, +turned the page carefully and then remarked, “I +licked four husky cow-punchers, real bad men, last +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_339'></a>339</span> +month. One right after the other, and I was +purty near all in, too.” He glanced at the next +page disinterestedly, spat at a fly on the edge of +the box cuspidor and then added wearily and with +great deprecation, “I’m feeling fine to-day, never +felt so good in my life, but I need more exercise–I’m +two pounds over weight right now.”</p> + +<p>The clerk showed interest and awe: “Weight?” +he asked. “What is your fighting weight?”</p> + +<p>Bill looked up aggressively: “Fighting weight?” +he asked, raising his eyebrows. “My <i>fighting</i> +weight is something over nine hundred pounds, +when I’m real mad. Ordinarily, one hundred and +eighty. Why?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, nothing,” replied the clerk, staring out +of the window.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_340'></a>340</span><a id='link_19'></a>CHAPTER XIX<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE ORPHAN GOES TO THE A-Y</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>T</span>HE A-Y had been a very busy place for the past two weeks because of the +cattle which had to be re-branded and taken +care of, and of other things which had to be done +about the ranch. The sheriff had taken title and +had persuaded Crawford to remain in nominal +charge for a month at the most so as to keep the +sale a secret until the new owner would be ready +to make it known. So word went around that +Crawford had hired the sheriff to put things on a +paying basis and that half of the old outfit had +left, their places being filled by Charley, the two +Larkin brothers and two men from a northern +ranch.</p> + +<p>Shields had been very much pleased with the +cattle which The Orphan had bought for him and +had asked Blake if he could borrow the new +puncher to help him get things in good running +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_341'></a>341</span> +shape. Blake had told The Orphan of the sheriff’s +request and had advised him to accept, which +the puncher was very glad to do. So this is how the +former outlaw became temporary foreman of the +A-Y under the sheriff. Only the sheriff’s most intimate +friends knew his plans, one of whom was +Charley Winter, who found food for mirth in the +unique position things had taken. The sheriff’s +deputies who had lain out-doors all night on the +Cross Bar-8 waiting to capture or kill the outlaw +were now working under him, and the best of feelings +prevailed. The man who had hunted The +Orphan now employed him as the bearer of the +responsibilities of the new ranch. Truly, a change!</p> + +<p>While The Orphan was busy with his duties on +the A-Y the sheriff rode to the Star C and sought +out the foreman, whom he finally found engaged +in freeing a cow that had become mired in a quicksand. +As the terror-stricken animal galloped +wildly away from the scene of torture and indignities +to its person Blake mopped his face and began +to scrape the quicksand from him.</p> + +<p>“Playing life-saver, eh?” laughed the sheriff.</p> + +<p>The foreman looked up and smiled sheepishly: +“Yes,” he replied as he shook hands with the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_342'></a>342</span> +sheriff. “One cow more or less won’t make nor +break no ranch, but I just can’t see ’em suffer. +The boys and I were passing, so we stopped and +got to work. But cows ain’t got no gratitude, not +nohow! That ornery beast will be all ready to +charge me the first time he sees me afoot. Did you +see him try to horn me when I let go?”</p> + +<p>His friend laughed, and when they had ridden +some distance from the others he turned in his +saddle:</p> + +<p>“Well, The Orphan is working like a horse, +and he likes it, too,” he said. “You ought to hear +him giving orders–he just asks a man to do a +thing, don’t order it done. When he talks it sounds +like the puncher would be doing him the greatest +possible favor to do the work he is paid to do, but +there is a suggestion that if any nastiness develops, +hell will be a peaceful place compared to the near +vicinity of the foreman of the A-Y. He sizes up +a thing with one look, and then tells how it should +be done. Everything has gone off so fine that +I’m going to ask you to lose a good man, and +real soon, too. What do you say, Tom?”</p> + +<p>Blake laughed: “Why, we were a-plenty before +he came and we’ll be a-plenty after he goes. That’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_343'></a>343</span> +for your asking me to turn him over to you. The +boys will be both sorry and glad to have him leave, +because they like him a whole lot. But of course +they want to see him land everything that he can, +so they’ll give him a good send-off. That reminds +me to say that I know they will want to be on hand +when you break the news to him. It’ll be a circus +for your Eastern friend, Miss Ritchie.”</p> + +<p>“Now you’re talking!” enthused the sheriff. +“I want to have as many fireworks at the ceremony +as I can possibly get. Oh, it’ll be a great day, all +right. We are all going out and take a bang-up +lunch, just like we’re going on that picnic that Bill’s +been so worried about, and Bill is going to drive +the women over in his coach. The first surprise +will be the announcement of the new ownership +of the A-Y, and right on top of it I’m going to fire +the second gun. I hope none of your boys know +anything about it,” he added with anxiety.</p> + +<p>“Not a thing,” hastily replied the foreman. +“You have your wife send a message to me by Joe +when he rustles our mail to-morrow and ask us to +come to the picnic at the A-Y on the day which +you will decide on. They’ll go, all right, no fear +about that. Nothing more than your wife’s cooking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_344'></a>344</span> +is needed to attract them,” and he laughed +heartily at how suddenly they would come to life +at such a summons.</p> + +<p>Shields thought intently for a few seconds and +then slapped his thigh: “I’ve got it!” he exulted. +“I’ll ride over to your place with you and write +a letter to my wife telling her just what to do. Joe +can deliver it and bring back the invitation. You +see, I won’t be home to-night, but that will do the +trick, all right. Now, what do you say to this +coming Saturday?–this is, let me see: Wednesday. +Will that be time enough for you to make any +arrangements you may want to make?”</p> + +<p>“Shore, plenty of time,” Blake laughed. “It’s +good all the way. Joe will be delighted to have +a real good excuse to call at your house. He’s a +bashful cuss, like all the rest. They talk big, but +they’re some bashful all the same. He’s been +worrying about it, for one day he came to me with +a funny expression on his face and acted like he +didn’t know how to begin. So I asked him what +was troubling him, and he blurted out like this, as +near as I can remember:</p> + +<p>“‘Well, you know Mrs. Shields said we was to +go to her house when any of us hit town?’ he asked.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_345'></a>345</span>“‘I shore do,’ I answered, wondering what +was up.</p> + +<p>“‘Well, I go to town a lot, and it takes a h–l +of a lot of gall to do it,’ he complained, looking +so serious that it was funny.</p> + +<p>“‘Gall!’ said I, surprised-like, and trying to +keep my face straight. ‘Gall! Well, I can’t see +that it takes such a brave man to call at a friend’s +house when he’s been told to do it.’</p> + +<p>“‘Oh, that part of it is all right,” he replied. +‘But she’ll think I only call to get my face fed, and +it makes me feel like a–I don’t know what. You +see, I always get away quick.’</p> + +<p>“‘Well, stay longer, there ain’t no use of being +in a hurry,’ I said. ‘Stay and talk a while.’</p> + +<p>“‘Then they’ll think I ain’t got enough and +push more pie at me, like they did once,’ he complained.</p> + +<p>“‘Suppose I give Silent your terrible ordeal to +do,’ I suggested tentatively, ‘or Bud, he’s dead +anxious for your job.’</p> + +<p>“‘Oh, it ain’t as bad as that!’ he cried quickly. +‘I only thought that I’d speak to you about it. I +thought you could suggest something.’</p> + +<p>“‘Well,’ I replied, ‘every time you call you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_346'></a>346</span> +say I sent you over to ask about the sheriff’s health. +How’ll that do?’</p> + +<p>“He grinned sheepishly and then swore: +‘H–l, that would make a shore enough mess +of it,’ he cried. ‘I’d be a royal American idiot to +say a thing like that, now, wouldn’t I?’”</p> + +<p>The sheriff laughed heartily, and they talked +about the picnic until they had reached the ranch-house, +where he wrote the note to his wife. Bidding +his friend good-by, he rode out past the +corrals and headed for the A-Y.</p> + +<p>When about half-way to his own ranch, and on +A-Y ground, he surmounted a rise and saw a figure +flit from sight behind a thicket, and his curiosity +was immediately aroused. Not knowing who the +man might be, he stalked his quarry and finally +found Bucknell standing beside his horse.</p> + +<p>“Well, what’s the trouble now?” the sheriff +asked as he came out into sight. He was dangerously +near angry, for Bucknell was on forbidden +ground and was flushed as if from liquor. +“What’s the trouble?” he repeated.</p> + +<p>Bucknell looked confused: “Nothing, Sheriff. +Why?” he asked, evading the searching gaze of +the peace officer.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_347'></a>347</span>“Oh, I thought something might have gone +wrong on the Cross Bar-8, and that you were looking +for me,” Shields coldly replied.</p> + +<p>Bucknell looked at the ground and coughed nervously +before he replied, which only made the sheriff +all the more determined to get at the matter in a +true light.</p> + +<p>“No, nothing’s wrong,” replied the puncher. +“I was just riding out this way–I was some nervous, +that’s all.”</p> + +<p>“That don’t go with me!” the sheriff said +sharply. “I’ve lived too long to bite on a yarn +like that. Why, you can’t look at me!”</p> + +<p>The puncher did not reply and the sheriff +continued:</p> + +<p>“Now, look here, Bucknell, take some good +advice from me–stay on your ranch, mind your +own business and let liquor alone. As sure as you +monkey around the Star C Blake will give you a +d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n sound licking, and he’s man enough to do +it, too, make no error. And as for the A-Y, well, +the temporary foreman of that ranch is the cleverest +man with a gun that I ever saw, and I’ve seen +some good ones in my time. If you go up against +him you’ll get shot, for he’d think you were about +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_348'></a>348</span> +the easiest proposition he ever met. As sure as you +drink you’ll get drunk, and as sure as you get drunk +you’ll work up an appetite for a fight, and if you +pick a fight with him you’ll never know what hit +you. You stick to water and the Cross Bar-8.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I reckon I can take care of my own business,” +sullenly replied Bucknell. “I can come out +here drunk or sober if I wants to, I reckon.”</p> + +<p>“You can do nothing of the kind,” rejoined +the sheriff. “And you certainly ought to be able +to take care of your own business, as you say,” he +retorted, holding his temper with an effort. “But +in the past you didn’t, and you may not in the +future. And when your business gets too big for +you to handle it gets into my hands, and if you +make any trouble I’ll d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n soon convince you +that I can handle your surplus. Now, get out of +here and think it over.”</p> + +<p>Bucknell swung into his saddle and then turned, +the liquor making him reckless.</p> + +<p>“D<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n it!” he cried. “The Orphant killed +Jimmy and a whole lot more good cow-punchers! +He’s nothing but a murdering thief, a d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d +rustler, that’s what he is! And you are his best +friend, it seems!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_349'></a>349</span>The wan smile flickered across the sheriff’s face, +but still he refrained, for such is the foolish consideration +given by brave men to liquor. A drunkard +may do much with impunity, for the argument +states he is not responsible, forgetting that in the +beginning he was responsible enough to have left +liquor alone, and that injury, whether unintentional +or not, is still injury.</p> + +<p>“There is no seem about it!” he retorted. “I +<i>am</i> his best friend, and he needs friends bad enough, +God knows. But speaking of murder, those four +good cow-punchers that stopped me in the defile +tried hard enough to qualify at it, and The Orphan +not only saved me, but also some of them, for I’d +a gotten some of them before I cashed. You’re +a h–l of a fine cub to talk about murders, you +are!”</p> + +<p>“That’s all right,” retorted Bucknell, “he’s +just what I said he was. And a side pardner of +our brave sheriff, too!”</p> + +<p>“D<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n you!” shouted Shields, his face dark +with passion. “You have said enough, any more +from you and I’ll break your dirty neck! Just +because I felt sorry for you when you got half +killed in the saloon and let you stay in the country +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_350'></a>350</span> +don’t think you are the boss of this section. When +I saw what a pitiful, drunken wreck you were, I +felt sorry for you, but not any more. You don’t +want decent treatment, you want to get clubbed, +and you’re right in line to get just what you need, +too! Now, I’m not going to stand any more of +your d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d foolishness–my patience is played +out. And if you were half a man you wouldn’t +sit there like a bump on a log and swallow what +I’m saying–you’d put up a fight if you died for it. +You are no good, just a drunken, lawless fool of +a puncher; just a bag of wind, and it’s up to you +to walk a chalk line or I’ll give you a taste of what +I carry around with me for bums of your kind. +What in h–l do you think I am? No, you +don’t, you stay right where you are ’til I get good +and ready to have you go! You’ve come d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d +near the end of your rope and there is just one +thing for you to do, and that is, get out of this +country and do it quick! You stay on your own +side of the Limping Water, for if I catch you riding +off any nervousness off of Cross Bar-8 ground +without word from your foreman, I’ll shoot you +down like I’d shoot a coyote! And for a dollar +I’d wipe up the earth with you right now! You +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_351'></a>351</span> +d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>d, sneaking, cowardly cur, you tin-horn +bully! Pull your stakes and get scarce and don’t +you open your mouth to me–come on, lively! +Pull your freight!”</p> + +<p>Bucknell slowly rode away, his eyes to the +ground and not daring to say what seethed in his +heart. He swore to himself that he would get +square some day on both, not realizing in his anger +that when sober he feared them both.</p> + +<p>The sheriff stared after him and then returned +to the point where he had left his horse. As he +mounted he shook his head savagely and swore. +Glancing again after the puncher he struck into a +canter and rode toward the ranch.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_352'></a>352</span><a id='link_20'></a>CHAPTER XX<br /><span class='h2fs'>BILL ATTENDS THE PICNIC</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>T</span>HE picnic aroused quite a stir for so frivolous a thing. When Blake +read Mrs. Shields’ invitation to the outfit they acted +like schoolboys dismissed for a vacation. Grins of +delight were the style on the Star C, and the overflow +of bubbling happiness took the form of practical +joking against Humble, whose life suddenly +held much anxiety. In Ford’s Station there was +an air of expectancy, and Bill spent all of Saturday +morning from daylight until time to start in cleaning +his stage and grooming the horses, whose +astonishment quickly passed into prohibitive indignation. +After narrowly escaping broken bones +and chewed arms Bill decided that the sextet could +go as it was.</p> + +<p>“Serves ’em right!” he yelled to his friendly +enemy, the clerk, after he had barely dodged a +vicious kick, wildly waving a curry comb. “Let +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_353'></a>353</span> +the ignoramuses go like they are! Let ’em show +how cheap and common they are! They never was +any good for anything, anyhow, eating their heads +off and kicking their best friend!”</p> + +<p>“How about the time they beat out them +Apaches?” asked the clerk, settling back comfortably +against the coach.</p> + +<p>“You get out!” yelled Bill pugnaciously. +“Who asked you for talk, hey? And get away +from that coach, you idiot, you’ll dirty it all up!”</p> + +<p>“Sic ’em, Tige!” jeered the clerk pleasantly. +“Chew ’em up!”</p> + +<p>“What!” yelled Bill, swiftly grabbing up the +pail of water which stood near him. “Sic ’em, +is it!” he cried, running forward. “Chew ’em +up, hey!” he continued, heaving the contents of the +pail at the clerk, who nimbly sprang inside the vehicle +and slammed the door shut behind him as the +water struck it. He leaped out of the other door +and was safely away before Bill realized what had +happened. Then the driver said things when he +saw the mess he had made of the coach, upon +which he had spent two hard hours in polishing.</p> + +<p>“Suffering dogs!” he shouted, dancing first on +one foot and then on the other. “Now look what +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_354'></a>354</span> +you’ve done! You’re a h–l of a feller, you are! +After me rubbing the skin off’n my hands and +breaking my arms a-polishing it up! You good +for nothing, mangy half-breed! Wait till I get a +hold of you, you long pair of legs, you! Just +wait! I’ll show you, all right!”</p> + +<p>The clerk twiddled his fingers from afar and +jeered in his laughter: “Serves you right! Sic ’em, +Towser! Eat ’em up, Fido! Sic ’em, sic ’em!” +he shouted joyously, and forthwith ran for his life.</p> + +<p>Bill returned to the coach and worked like mad +to undo the evil effects he had wrought and finally +succeeded in bringing a phantom glow to the time-battered +wood. Then he hitched up and drove to +the sheriff’s house, where he saw huge baskets on +the porch.</p> + +<p>“Good morning, Mrs. Shields,” he said as he +stamped to the door. “Good morning, ladies.”</p> + +<p>“Good morning William,” replied the sheriff’s +wife as she hurried to collect shawls and blankets. +“Will you mind putting those baskets on the coach, +William? We will soon be ready.”</p> + +<p>“Why, certainly not, ma’am,” he answered, +recklessly grabbing up the two largest. “Jimminee!” +he exulted. “These are shore heavy, all +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_355'></a>355</span> +right, all right! Must be plumb full of good +things! To-day is where your Uncle Bill Halloway +gets square for the dinner the company froze +him out of. Wonder if there’s apricot pie in this +one?” he mused curiously. He gingerly raised the +cover and a grin distorted his face. “Must be six, +yes, eight–mebby ten!” he soliloquized as he +placed it on the stage. “Hullo, bottles of some +kind,” he whispered as he picked up another basket. +“Hear the little devils clink, eh? Must be +coffee and tea, hey? Yes, shore enough it is. Good +Lord, how hungry I am–wish I had eaten that +breakfast this morning–how in thunder did I know +we was going to be so late? I’ll be the strong man +at this picnic, all right!”</p> + +<p>“Here are some blankets, William,” called Mrs. +Shields. “Helen, would you mind showing him +how to carry that box?–he’s sure to turn it upside +down if you don’t.”</p> + +<p>“Next!” he cried, returning from the trip with +the blankets. “I put them blankets up on top, +Mrs. Shields, is it all right? How do you do, +Miss Helen, any more freight?”</p> + +<p>“How do you do,” she replied. “This box +is to go, please. Now, do be very careful not to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_356'></a>356</span> +turn it up, or jar it!” she warned. “And put it +on the seat inside the coach where we can steady it.”</p> + +<p>“Gee, what’s in it?” asked Bill, nearly dying +from his curiosity. “Must be the joker of the +feast, eh?”</p> + +<p>“Three layer cakes,” she laughingly replied. +“Chocolate, cocoanut and lemon.”</p> + +<p>“Um!” he said. “I’ll carry this one high up, +it deserves it.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, do be careful!” she cried as he swooped +it up to his shoulder. “Oh!” she screamed as it +thumped against the top of the door frame.</p> + +<p>“Whoa! Back up!” cried Bill, executing the +order. “Easy, boy–all right, off we go!”</p> + +<p>“Grace, Mary,” cried Helen, “we are all ready +to go!”</p> + +<p>“Ain’t there any more boxes?” asked Bill from +the coach.</p> + +<p>“Come, girls,” cried Mrs. Shields as she stepped +into the coach. “Close the door after you, and +lock it, dear.”</p> + +<p>Bill gallantly helped the ladies into the coach, +grinned at the cake box and started toward the +front wheel when he was called back.</p> + +<p>“Now, William,” cautioned Mrs. Shields, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_357'></a>357</span> +laughing. “We will not be pursued by Apaches +to-day, and this cake must not be shaken!”</p> + +<p>“You won’t know you’re riding, ma’am, you +shore won’t,” he assured her as he danced toward +the front wheel again.</p> + +<p>“Wake up there, you!” he yelled from the box. +“Come on, Jerry, think you’re glued to the earth? +Come on, Tom! Easy there, you fool jackrabbit! +–haven’t you learned that you can’t reach this +high!”</p> + +<p>When they had arrived at the A-Y the baskets +were carried into the ranch-house and the women +became very busy getting things ready for the feast. +Bill took care of his team and then carried the +blankets to the grove.</p> + +<p>While the picnic was being prepared there arose +a series of blood-curdling whoops off to the south +where the outfit of the Star C made the air blue +with powder smoke. As they came nearer something +peculiar was noticed by Helen. It appeared +to be a sort of drag drawn by a horse and supported +by two long, springy poles, one end of which rested +on the ground, and the other fastened to the saddle. +While she wondered Bill came up and she +turned to him for light.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_358'></a>358</span>“What have they got fastened to that horse?” +she asked him.</p> + +<p>He looked and then smiled: “Why, it is a +travois,” he said. “But what under the sun have +they got on it? They must be bringing their own +grub!”</p> + +<p>The travois dragged and bumped over the uneven +plain and soon came near enough for its +burden to be made out. A man and a dog were +strapped to it.</p> + +<p>At this point Blake joined Helen and Bill, and +as he did so he espied the travois.</p> + +<p>“Thunder!” he cried, running forward. +“Somebody is hurt! What’s the matter, Silent?” +he shouted.</p> + +<p>“Matter?” asked Silent, in surprise as the outfit +drew near. “There ain’t nothing the matter. +Why?”</p> + +<p>“What’s that travois doing with you, then?” +Blake demanded.</p> + +<p>Silent’s face was as grave as that of an owl. +“Travois?” he asked. Then his face cleared: +“Oh, yes–I near forgot about it,” he added, apologetically. +“You see, Humble he shore wanted +his dog to come to the picnic, so we reckoned we’d +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_359'></a>359</span> +let it come along. Bud and Jim was for slinging it +at the end of a rope and dragging it over, but I +said no. We ain’t got any ropes to have all frayed +out and cut a-dragging dogs to picnics, and I said +so, too. So we built the travois and strapped Lightning +to it. When Humble saw what we had done +he acted real unpolite. He said as how he wasn’t +going to have no dog of his’n toted twenty miles +in a fool travois. Said that he’d make it stay home +first, which was some mean after inviting the dog +to come along. He said that he’d go in a travois +himself first before he’d let the setter be made a +fool of. Well, we simply had to subdue him, and +he got so unreasonable that we just had to tie him +with his dog. He shore does get awful pig-headed +at times.”</p> + +<p>“Take off the gag, Jim,” requested Silent, turning +to the grinning cow-puncher. “Let him loose +now, we’ve arrived.”</p> + +<p>Jim leaned over and whispered in Humble’s ear, +the information being that there were ladies about, +and that all swearing must be thought and not +yelled. Then he slipped the gag, and untied the +ropes. Gales of laughter met the angry and indignant +puncher when he had leaped to his feet, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_360'></a>360</span> +he flashed one quick glance at the women and then, +boiling with wrath and suppressed profanity, fled +toward the corrals as swiftly as cramped muscles +would allow. The dog snarled at its tormentors +and then set off in hot pursuit of its discomfited +master, whose waving arms kept time with his +speeding legs.</p> + +<p>“That’s all the thanks we get,” grumbled Bud, +“but then, he don’t know any better anyhow.”</p> + +<p>Blake laughed and regarded his grinning and +expectant outfit, and the longer he looked at them +the more he laughed. They had paid their respects +to the women while Silent explained about the +travois and now they cast many longing glances at +the blankets and cloths spread out on the grass and +at the baskets which Bill was busy over. They had +tried to coax the driver to them to give information +as to what they might expect in the way of edibles, +but he had haughtily and disdainfully refused to +enlighten them, taking care, however, to arouse +their curiosity by looking fondly at the box and the +baskets and even showed his elation by taking +several fancy steps for their benefit.</p> + +<p>“Well, get rid of the cayuses,” said Blake, +“and square things with Humble. Bring him back +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_361'></a>361</span> +with you or you don’t get any pie. You’re such a +darn fool crowd that I can’t get mad this time, +but don’t ever drag a man in a travois again.”</p> + +<p>“Did he come, or was he kidnapped?” murmured +Bud. “What we did once we can do again, +and Humble will be on hand when the feast +begins.”</p> + +<p>Jim had been scowling at Bill, whose manners +were most aggravating. “You just wait, you +heathen,” threatened Jim. “You’re ace high with +the grub, all right, but just you wait ’til we get you +alone!”</p> + +<p>“Yah!” laughed the driver. “I shore can +handle the best cow-wrastler that ever lived.”</p> + +<p>“Bill seems to be running this here festival,” +Bud complained to Helen.</p> + +<p>“Oh, he is our right-hand man,” she replied +with enthusiasm. “We couldn’t possibly get along +without him, now. He has charge of the pie and +cake.”</p> + +<p>Bill’s chest expanded: “I’m foreman of the pie +and cake herd,” he exclaimed proudly. “You +can’t get ahead of me.”</p> + +<p>Bud looked at the driver and then significantly +waved his hand at the travois: “And you’ll shore +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_362'></a>362</span> +travel in style, just like a real pie foreman, too, +when we gets a chance to honor you like we +wants to.”</p> + +<p>“You’ll get no pie if you acts smart, little boy,” +retorted the driver. “Run along and play till +lunch is ready, and don’t dirty your hands and +face.”</p> + +<p>“Well, we’ve got fine memories,” Bud suggested +as he led the way to the corrals, where +he found The Orphan.</p> + +<p>“Hullo, Orphan!” he cried enthusiastically as +he gripped the outstretched hand. “Plumb glad +to see you. How’s things?”</p> + +<p>“Glad to see you, boys,” cried the temporary +foreman, who was all smiles. “One at a time!” +he laughed as they crowded about him. “Make +yourselves right at home–that smallest corral is +for your cayuses. And you’ll find plenty of soap +and water and towels by the bunk-house, and there’s +a box of good cigars, a tin of tobacco, and a jug on +the table inside. Help yourself to anything you +want, the place is all yours.”</p> + +<p>“Gee, this is a good game, all right,” Bud +laughed as he turned to put his horse in the corral. +“The sheriff shore knows how to deal.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_363'></a>363</span>“Leave a cigar for me, Silent,” jokingly warned +Jim as his friend turned toward the bunk-house. +“Too many smokes will make you sick.”</p> + +<p>“Well, you’ve got a gall, all right!” retorted +Silent. “You better let me bring yours out to +you and keep away from the box, for I’m always +plumb suspicious of these goody-goody, it’s-for-your-own-good +people.”</p> + +<p>A crafty look came to Jack Lawson’s face and +he turned to The Orphan: “Has Bill Howland +got his cigars yet?” he asked, winking at his +friends.</p> + +<p>“Why, I don’t know whether he has or not,” +replied The Orphan. “But I don’t believe that +he has been out of sight of the pies since he came. +They’ve got him in a trance.”</p> + +<p>“Guess I’ll take him one,” continued Jack, grinning +broadly. “He likes to smoke.”</p> + +<p>“Shore enough, go ahead,” endorsed the foreman +of the A-Y as he turned toward the grove. +Then he stopped, and with a knowing look added: +“If you want to see Humble, he just went in the +bunk-house.”</p> + +<p>A yell of dismay arose as the outfit started pell-mell +for the house. Silent entered it first and his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_364'></a>364</span> +profanity informed his companions that their fears +were well grounded. Neither Humble, cigars, +tobacco nor jug were to be seen, and a search was +forthwith instituted. Jack looked at a distant corral +and saw Lightning as the dog disappeared from +sight into it.</p> + +<p>“Hey!” he cried. “He’s in the big corral–I +just saw his dog go in, and it was wagging its +tail a whole lot. Come on, we’ll surround it and +show that frisky gent a thing or two!”</p> + +<p>No more words were wasted, and in a very short +time figures were creeping around the corral. Then +there was a scramble as most of the searchers scaled +the wall at different points while two of them ran +in through the gate. The first thing they saw was +the dog, and his tail was still wagging as he +curiously followed, nose to the ground, a huge +horned toad. He looked up at the sudden disturbance +and backed off suspiciously, looking for a way +to escape.</p> + +<p>“<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span> <span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>!” chorused the fooled punchers, +who discovered that deductions don’t always deduct, +and then they returned to the bunk-house to +“slick up.” When finally satisfied about their +appearance they made their way to the grove and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_365'></a>365</span> +the sight which greeted their eyes as they entered +it almost made them drop in their tracks.</p> + +<p>Humble and Bill sat cross-legged on a blanket, +which was surrounded with guns. The jug, tobacco +and cigars were flanked by pies and a cake, while +each of the conspirators held a lighted cigar in one +hand while they took turns at the jug. A huge +piece of pie rested in a plate at Humble’s side, +while Bill’s knee held a piece of cake.</p> + +<p>“Hands up!” shouted Humble, grabbing a +gun. “Don’t you dare to raid the gallery! You +stay right where you are!”</p> + +<p>Bill’s blacksnake whip leaped from point to point +experimentally, picking up twigs and leaves with +disturbing accuracy.</p> + +<p>The invaders halted just beyond the range of +the whip and consulted uneasily, not noticing that +the driver had shortened his weapon by twice the +length of its handle. Finally Jim and Docile ran +back toward the corral while their friends waited +impatiently for their return, grinning at the enemy +with an I-told-you-so air.</p> + +<p>Bill suddenly leaned forward, the whip slid down +into his hand to the end of the handle and cracked +viciously. Joe Haines, who had grown a little +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_366'></a>366</span> +careless, leaped into the air and yelled, grabbing +at his leg.</p> + +<p>“Keep your distance, you!” warned the driver, +trying to look ferocious. “Twenty feet is the +dead-line, children.”</p> + +<p>Jim and Docile returned apace and brought with +them half a dozen lariats, which ranged in length +from thirty to forty feet.</p> + +<p>“Hey, you!” cried Humble in alarm. “That +ain’t fair!”</p> + +<p>Grim silence was the only reply as the invaders +each took his rope and surrounded the two. Then, +suddenly, the air was full of darting ropes and in +less time than it takes to tell of it the pair were +hopelessly and helplessly trussed. Silent ran in and +hurled the whip away and then squatted before +the prisoners, throwing their cigars after the whip +as he took up the pie and cake, which he tantalizingly +munched before their eyes.</p> + +<p>“I like a hog, all right, but you suit me too +blamed well!” asserted Bud, grabbing at Silent’s +pie.</p> + +<p>“Gimme some of that,” demanded Jim, trying +for the cake. And when the disturbance had ceased +there were no signs of either pie or cake.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_367'></a>367</span>“It’s the travois for you, Humble dear!” softly +hummed Charley Bailey. “And to the ranch, by +the way of town!”</p> + +<p>“And Bill will be pleased to explore the Limping +Water on the bottom,” amended Jim. “One +of us can drive the women home!”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_368'></a>368</span><a id='link_21'></a>CHAPTER XXI<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE ANNOUNCEMENT</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>A</span>BOUT thirty people sat in a circle on the grass in the grove on the A-Y, +engaged in taking viands from the well-filled plates +which made the rounds. Keen humor from all +sides kept them in roars of laughter, Humble and +Bill provoking the greater part of it. Humble sat +next to Miss Ritchie, while The Orphan and Bill +flanked Helen, the sheriff next to his new foreman. +Humble’s face had a look of benign condescension +when he allowed himself to bestow perfunctory +attentions on the members of his outfit, whom he +graciously called “purty fair punchers in a way.”</p> + +<p>Crawford, the former owner of the A-Y, sat +next to Shields, and when the lunch had reached +the cigar stage he arose and cleared his throat.</p> + +<p>“Ladies and Gentlemen, Bill and Humble,” he +began amid laughter. “I have been regarded as +the host of this picnic, and the false position embarrasses +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_369'></a>369</span> +me. But any such momentary feeling is +compensated by the importance of what I have to +tell you.</p> + +<p>“When I took up the A-Y it was with a determination +to keep it and to spend the rest of my +days on it in peace. This I have found to be +impossible, and in consequence I have turned it +over to a better man. The energy which I have +seen applied in the right way for the last few +weeks has assured me that the A-Y will soon be +second in importance and wealth to no ranch in +this country. I have seen order, system, emerge +from chaos; I have seen five thousand cattle re-branded +and taken care of in such dispatch as to +astonish me and be almost beyond my belief. The +sheriff has been as economical in the use of his +energy as he can be in the use of his words. By +that I don’t mean in the way that is causing you to +smile, but simply that he knows how to accomplish +the most work with the least possible expenditure +of effort and time, as witnessed by the condition +of this ranch to-day. But while he has been the +guiding spirit in the work of putting the ranch +on its proper footing, he has had as good assistants +as it is possible to find.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_370'></a>370</span>“I don’t wish to tire you with any long speech, +for brevity is the soul of more than wit, so I will +close by telling you that the A-Y is in new and +better hands–our sheriff is now its owner, and I +extend to him my heartiest wishes for his success +in his new venture. I must thank him and all of +you for a very pleasant day and a memory to take +East with me.”</p> + +<p>For an instant there was intense silence, and +then a small battle seemed to be taking place. The +noise of the shooting and cheering was deafening +and smoke rolled down like a heavy fog. The +sheriff met the rush toward him and put in a very +busy few minutes in shaking hands and replying +to the hearty congratulations which poured in +upon him from all sides. Everybody was happy +and all were talking at once, and Bill could be +heard reeling off an unbroken string of words at +high speed.</p> + +<p>The Orphan fought his way to his best friend +and gripped both hands in his own.</p> + +<p>“By God, Sheriff!” he cried. “This is great +news, and I’m plumb glad to hear it! I hope you +have the very best of luck and that your returns, +both in pleasure and money, far exceed your fondest +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_371'></a>371</span> +expectations. Anything I can do is yours for +the asking.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, son,” replied the sheriff, looking +fondly into his friend’s eyes. “I’m going to call +on you just as soon as I can make myself heard in +all this hellabaloo. Just listen to that!” he exclaimed +as Silent let loose again.</p> + +<p>“Glory be!” yelled he of the misleading name, +slapping Humble across the back. “For this you +ride home like a white man, Humble–all your +sins are forgiven! Hurrah for the sheriff, his +family and the A-Y!” he shouted at the top of his +lungs, and his cheer was supported unanimously +with true cowboy enthusiasm and vim.</p> + +<p>“Hurray for me, too!” shouted Bill in laughter. +Then he fled, with Silent in hot pursuit.</p> + +<p>The sheriff tried to speak, and after several +attempts was finally given silence.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, everybody!” he cried, his face +beaming. “I am happy for many reasons to-day, +but foremost among them is the fact that I have +so many warm and loyal friends. The A-Y is +always open to all of you, and I’ll be some disappointed +if you don’t put in a lot of your spare +time over here.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_372'></a>372</span>He paused for a few seconds and then looked +at The Orphan, who stood at Helen’s side.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Crawford did his part a whole lot better +than I can do mine, I’m afraid, but I’m going +to do my best, anyhow. The news has only been +half told–the name of the new foreman of the +A-Y henceforth will be The Orphan! Whoop +her up, boys!” he shouted, leading a cheer which +was not one whit less a cheer than those which +had gone before.</p> + +<p>The Orphan stared in astonishment, for once +in his life he had been surprised. The sheriff at +last had the drop on him. He looked from one +to another, started to step forward and then +changed his mind and looked appealingly at Helen, +who smiled in a way to double the speed of his +heart-beats.</p> + +<p>Her eyes were moist, and the sudden consciousness +that she formed half of the objective of all +eyes caused her cheeks to go crimson. Her hand +impulsively went to his shoulder and without +thought on her part, and his incredulous questioning +was answered by her.</p> + +<p>“It’s all true,” she said earnestly. “I’ve known +of it for a whole week now. You are the real +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_373'></a>373</span> +foreman of the A-Y, and I most earnestly hope +for your success.”</p> + +<p>He suddenly seemed to be above the earth and +his voice broke in his stammered reply. For a +fraction of a second her eyes had told him what +he had dreamed of, what he had hoped for above +all things, and he grasped her hand for a second +as he stepped forward toward his new employer, +whose hand met his with a man’s grasp.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Sheriff,” he said, his head whirling +from the surprises of a minute. “You’ve been +squarer and fairer with me than any man I’ve ever +known, and hell will look nice to me if I don’t +make good with you.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, boys; thank you, Bill: you’re all +right, every one of you!” he cried as his friends +crowded about him. “What the sheriff said about +warm friends was the truth–thank you, Bud and +Jim! Thank you, Blake–you’re another brick! +Good God, what I have gained in two months! I +can scarcely believe it, it seems so like a dream. +That’s a real warm grip, all right, though,” he +exclaimed as he shook hands with Humble, “so I +reckon it’s all true. Two months!” he marveled. +“Two glorious, glorious months! A new start +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_374'></a>374</span> +in life, a loyal crowd of friends, a–and all in two +months! And there is the man I owe it all +to,” he suddenly cried, pointing to the sheriff. +“There’s the whitest man God ever made, and +I’ll kill the man who says I lie!”</p> + +<p>“Good boy!” shouted Bill in enthusiastic endorsement. +“You two make a pair of aces what +can beat any full-house ever got together, and <i>I</i>’ll +lick the man who says <i>I</i> lie!” he yelled pugnaciously. +“The Orphant may be an orphant, all +right, but he’s got a whole lot of brothers.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Shields walked over to The Orphan and +placed a motherly hand on his shoulder as he +recovered.</p> + +<p>“You won’t be an orphan any longer, my boy,” +she said, smiling up at him. “You’re one of us +now–I always wanted a son, and God has given +me one in you.”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_375'></a>375</span><a id='link_22'></a>CHAPTER XXII<br /><span class='h2fs'>TEX WILLIARD’S MISTAKE</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>D</span>URING the month which followed the picnic things ran smoothly on the +A-Y, and the rejuvenated ranch was the pride +of the whole contingent, from the sheriff down to +the cook. The Orphan had taken charge with a +determination which grew firmer with each passing +day and the new owner was delighted at the outcome +of his plans. The foreman, elated and +happy at his sudden shift in fortune, radiated +cheerfulness and consideration. His men knew +that he would not ask them to do anything which +he himself feared to do, which would not have +been much consolation to a timid man, since he +feared nothing; but to them it meant that they +had a foreman who would stick by them through +fire and water, and a foreman who commands +respect from his outfit is a man whose life is made +easy for him. He had known too much of unkindness, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_376'></a>376</span> +harshness, to become angry at mistakes; instead, +he set diligently at work to undo them, and +mistakes were rare. The very men who had once +wished for his life would now fight instantly to +save it. They were proud of him, of the owner, +the ranch and themeselves; and proudest of all was +Bill, once driver of the stage, but now a cowboy +working hard and loyally under the man who had +once held him up for a smoke.</p> + +<p>Visitors were numerous, and every man who +called became enthusiastic about the ranch, and +after he had departed marveled at the complete +change in the man who was its foreman, and felt +confidence in the good judgment of the sheriff. +Ford’s Station was openly jubilant, for the town +exulted in the discomfiture of the Cross Bar-8 and +in the proof that their sheriff was right. And +Ford’s Station chuckled at the news it heard, for +the foreman of the Cross Bar-8 had called twice at +the A-Y and was fast losing his prejudice against +The Orphan. Sneed had found a quiet, optimistic +foreman in the place of his former enemy, and the +laughter which lurked in The Orphan’s eyes closed +the breach. He had seen the man in a new light, +and when he had said his farewell at the close of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_377'></a>377</span> +his second visit the grip of his hand was strong. +As for the Star C, a trail had been worn between +the two ranches and hardly a day passed but one +or more of its punchers dropped in to say a few +words to their former bunkmate, and to stir up +Bill. The Star C, no less than his own men, swore +by The Orphan.</p> + +<p>One bright morning the sheriff left for a trip to +Chicago and other packing cities to arrange for +future cattle shipments, and announced that he +would be away for a week or two. On the night +following his departure trouble began. The ranch +and bunk houses of the Cross Bar-8 were fired +into, and when Sneed and his men had returned +after a fruitless search in the dark the foreman +stared at the wall and swore. Was it The Orphan +again? In the absence of the sheriff had he renewed +the war? First thought cried that he had, +but gradually the idea became untenable. Why +should The Orphan risk his splendid berth on the +A-Y, his prospects now rich in promise, to work +off any lingering hatred? When Sneed had shaken +hands with him he found apparent sincerity in the +warm clasp. He would ride over at daylight and +have the matter settled once and for all. And if +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_378'></a>378</span> +satisfied that The Orphan was guiltless of the outrage +he would turn his whole attention to the imitator +of the former outlaw.</p> + +<p>The Orphan was mending his saddle girth when +he saw Sneed cantering past the farthest corral. +The latter’s horse bore all the signs of hard riding +and he looked up inquiringly at the visitor.</p> + +<p>“Good morning, Sneed,” he said pleasantly, +arising and laying aside the saddle. “What’s up, +anything?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and I came over to find out about it,” +Sneed answered. “I hardly know how to begin–but +here, I’ll tell it from the beginning,” and he +related what had occurred, much to the wonder of +The Orphan.</p> + +<p>“Now,” finished the visitor, “I want to ask +you a question, although I may be a d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n fool +for doing it. But I want to get this thing thrashed +out. Do you know who did it?”</p> + +<p>The foreman of the A-Y straightened up, his +eyes flashing, and then he realized that Sneed had +some right to question him after what had occurred +in the past.</p> + +<p>“No, Sneed, I do not,” he answered, “but in +two guesses I can name the man!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_379'></a>379</span>“Good!” cried Sneed. “Go ahead!”</p> + +<p>“Bucknell?”</p> + +<p>“No, he was with me in the bunk-house,” replied +the foreman of the Cross Bar-8. “It wasn’t +him–go on.”</p> + +<p>“Tex Williard,” said The Orphan with decision.</p> + +<p>“Tex?” cried Sneed. “Why?”</p> + +<p>“It’s plain as day, Sneed,” The Orphan answered. +“He’s sore at me, but lacks nerve.”</p> + +<p>“But, thunderation, how would he hurt you by +shooting at us?” Sneed demanded, impatiently.</p> + +<p>“Oh, he would scare up a war during the sheriff’s +absence by throwing your suspicions on me. +He reckoned you would think that I did it, get +good and mad, fly off the handle and raise h–l +generally. He figured that I, according to the past, +would meet you half way and that you or some of +your men might kill me. If you didn’t, he reckoned +that the sheriff would kick me out of this +berth, and that one or both of us might get killed +in the argument. He could sit back and laugh to +himself at how easy it was to square up old scores +from a distance. It’s Tex as sure as I am here, +and unless Tex changes his plans and gets out of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_380'></a>380</span> +this country d<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n soon he won’t be long in getting +what he seems to ache for.”</p> + +<p>Sneed pushed back his sombrero and smiled +grimly: “I reckon that you’re right,” he replied. +“But you ain’t sore at the way I asked, are you? +I had to begin somewhere, you know.”</p> + +<p>“Sore?” rejoined his companion, angrily. +“Sore? I’m so sore that I’m going out after Tex +right now. And I’ll get him or know the reason +why, too. You go back and post your men about +this–and tell them on no account to ride over my +range for a few days, for they might get hurt +before they are known. Put a couple of them +to bed as soon as you get back–you need them +to keep watch nights.”</p> + +<p>He turned toward the corral and called to a +man who was busy near it: “Charley, you take +anybody that you want and get in a good sleep +before nightfall. I will want both of you to work +to-night.”</p> + +<p>“All right, after dinner will be time enough,” +Charley replied. “I’ll take Lefty Lukins.”</p> + +<p>The Orphan went into the ranch house and +returned at once with his rifle, a canteen of water +and a package of food. As he threw a saddle on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_381'></a>381</span> +his horse Bill galloped up, waving his arms and +very much excited.</p> + +<p>“Hey, Orphant!” he shouted. “Somebody’s +shore enough plugged some of our cows near the +creek! I lost his trail at the Cottonwoods!”</p> + +<p>“All right, Bill,” replied the foreman, “I’ll go +out and look them over. You take another horse +and ride to the Star C. Tell Blake to keep watch +for Tex Williard, and tell him to hold Tex for me +if he sees him. Lively, Bill!”</p> + +<p>Bill stared, leaped from his horse, took the saddle +from its back and was soon lost to sight in the +corral. In a few minutes he galloped past his +foreman and Sneed swearing heartily. His quirt +arose and fell and soon he was lost to sight over a +rise near the ranch-house.</p> + +<p>The foreman of the A-Y rode over to Charley: +“Charley, in case I don’t get back to-night, you +and Lefty keep guard somewhere out here, and +shoot any man who don’t halt at your hail. If I +return in the dark I’ll whistle Dixie as soon as +I see the lights in the bunk house, and I’ll keep +it up so you won’t mistake me. So long.”</p> + +<p>Sneed and he cantered away together and soon +they parted, the former to ride toward his ranch, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_382'></a>382</span> +the latter toward the Cottonwoods near the Limping +Water and along the trail left by Bill.</p> + +<p>When near the grove The Orphan saw five dead +cows and he quickly dismounted to examine them.</p> + +<p>“Not dead for long,” he muttered as he examined +the blood on them. He leaped into his saddle +and galloped through the grove. “Now, by +God, somebody pays for them!” he muttered.</p> + +<p>Here was a sudden change in things, positions +had been reversed, and now he could appreciate +the feelings which he had, more than once, aroused +in the hearts of numerous foremen. He emerged +from the grove and rode rapidly along the trail +left by the perpetrator, alert, grim and angry. +Soon the trail dipped beneath the waters of the +creek and he stopped and thought for a few seconds. +If it was Tex, he would not have ridden +toward the Cross Bar-8 and the town, and neither +would he have ridden south toward the Star C, +nor north in the direction of the A-Y. He would +seek cover for the day if he was still determined +to carry on his game, and would not emerge until +night covered his movements. That left him only +the west along the creek, and more than that, the +creek turned to the south again about five miles +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_383'></a>383</span> +farther on and flowed far too close to the ranch-houses +of the Star C for safety. He must have +left the water at the turn, and toward the turn +rode The Orphan, watching intently for the trail +to emerge on either bank. His deductions were +sound, for when he had rounded the bend of the +stream he picked up the trail where it left the +water and followed it westward.</p> + +<p>The country around the bend was very wild and +rough, for ravines between the hills cut seams and +gashes in the plain. The underbrush was shoulder +high, and he did not know how soon he might +become a target. The trail was very fresh in the +soft loam of the ravines and the broken branches +and trampled leaves were still wet with sap. Soon +he hobbled his horse and proceeded on foot, but +to one side of and parallel with the trail. He had +spent an hour in his advance and had begun to +regret having left his horse so early, when he +heard the report of a gun near at hand and a bullet +hissed viciously over his head as he stooped to go +under a low branch.</p> + +<p>He threw up his arms, the rifle falling from his +hands, pitched forward and rolled down the side +of the hill and behind a fallen tree trunk which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_384'></a>384</span> +lay against a thicket. As soon as he had gained +this position he glanced in the direction from +whence the shot had come and, finding himself +screened from sight on that side, quickly jerked +off his boots and planted them among the bushes, +where they looked as if he had crawled in almost +out of sight. That done, he crawled along the +ground under the protection of the tree trunk and +then squirmed under it, when he pushed himself, +feet first, deep into a tangled thicket and waited, +Colt in hand, for a sign of his enemy’s approach.</p> + +<p>A quarter of an hour had passed in silence when +a shot, followed by another, sounded from the +hillside. After the lapse of a like interval another +shot was fired, this time from the opposite direction. +He saw a twig fall by the boots and heard +the spat! of the bullet as it hit a stone. Two more +shots sounded in rapid succession, and then another +long interval of silence. Half an hour passed, but +he was not impatient. He most firmly believed +that his man would, sooner or later, come out to +examine the boots, and time was of no consequence: +he wanted the man.</p> + +<p>Whoever he was, he was certainly cautious, he +did not believe in taking any chances. It was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_385'></a>385</span> +almost certain that he would not leave until he +had been assured that he had accomplished his +purpose, for it would be most disconcerting at +some future time to unexpectedly meet the man +he thought he had murdered. Another shot +whizzed into the place where the body should have +been, according to the silent testimony of the boots. +It sounded much closer to the thicket, but in the +same direction of the last few shots. Then, after +ten minutes of silence, a twig snapped, and directly +behind the thicket in which The Orphan was hidden! +The foreman’s nerves were tense now, his +every sense was alert, for his was a most dangerous +position. He quickly glanced over his shoulder +into the thicket and found that he could not penetrate +the mass of leaves and branches, which reassured +him. He was very glad that he had forced +himself well into the cover, for soon the leaves +rustled and a pebble rolled not more than four feet +off, and in front of him, slightly at his right. More +rustling and then a head and shoulder slowly +pushed past him into view. The man moved very +slowly and cautiously and was crouched, his head +far in advance of his waist. The Orphan could +see only one side of the face, the angle of the man’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_386'></a>386</span> +jaw and an ear, but that was enough, for he knew +the owner. Slowly and without a sound the foreman’s +right hand turned at the wrist until the Colt +gleamed on a line with the other’s heart. The +searcher leaned forward and to one side, that he +might better see the boots, when a sound met his +ears.</p> + +<p>“Don’t move,” whispered the foreman.</p> + +<p>The prowler stiffened in his tracks, frozen to +rigidity by the command. Then he slowly turned +his head and looked squarely into the gun of the +man he thought he had killed.</p> + +<p>“Christ!” he cried hoarsely, starting back.</p> + +<p>“I don’t reckon you’ll ever know Him,” said +The Orphan, his voice very low and monotonous. +“Stand just as you are–don’t move–I want to +talk with you.”</p> + +<p>Tex simply stared at him in pitiful helplessness +and could not speak, beads of perspiration standing +out on his face, testifying to the agony of fear +he was in.</p> + +<p>“You’re on the wrong side of the game again, +Tex,” The Orphan said slowly, watching the +puncher narrowly, his gun steady as a rock. “You +still want to kill me, it seems. I’ve given you your +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_387'></a>387</span> +life twice, once to your knowledge, and I told you +with the sheriff that I would shoot you if you ever +returned; and still you have come back to have +me do it. You were not satisfied to let things rest +as they were.”</p> + +<p>Tex did not reply, and The Orphan continued, +a flicker of contempt about his lips.</p> + +<p>“You were never cast for an outlaw, Tex. If +I do say it myself, it takes a clever man to live at +that game, and I know, for I’ve been all through +it. As you see, Sneed and I didn’t shoot each +other, for the play was too plain, too transparent. +You should have ambushed one of his men, burned +his corrals and slaughtered his cattle, for then he +might have shot and talked later. And he might +have gotten me, too, for I was unsuspecting. I +don’t say that I would kill an innocent man to +arouse his anger if I had been in your place, I’m +only showing you where you made the mistake, +where you blundered. Had you killed one of his +men it is very probable that his rage would have +known no bounds, but as it was the provocation +was not great enough.”</p> + +<p>Tex remained silent and unconsciously toyed at +his ear. The Orphan looked keenly at the movement +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_388'></a>388</span> +and wondered where he had seen it before, +for it was familiar. His face darkened as memory +urged something forward to him out of the dark +catacombs of the past, and he stilled his breathing +to catch a clue to it. He saw the little ranch his +father had worked so hard over to improve, and +had fought hard to save, and then the picture of +his dying mother came vividly before him; but still +something avoided his searching thoughts, something +barely eluded him, trembling on the edge of +the Then and Now. He saw his father’s body +slowly swinging and turning in the light breeze of +a perfect day, and he quivered at the nearness of +what he was seeking, its proximity was tantalizing. +The rope!–the rope about his father’s neck had +been of manila fiber; he could never forget the +soiled, bleached-yellow streak which had led upward +to Eternity. And manila ropes were, at that +time, a rarity in that part of the country, for rawhide +and braided-hair lariats had been the rule. +And on the day when he had given Tex his life in +the defile he had noticed the faded yellow rope +which had swung at the puncher’s saddle horn. +As he strained with renewed hope to catch the +elusive impression another scene came before him. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_389'></a>389</span> +It was of three men bent over a cow, engaged in +blotting out his father’s brand, and instantly the +face of one of them sprang into sharp definition +on his mental canvas.</p> + +<p>“D<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>n you!” he cried, his finger tightening +on the trigger of the Colt which for so many years +had been his best friend. “I know you now, +changed as you are! Now I know why you have +been so determined for my death. On the day +that I cut my father down I swore that I would kill +the man who had lynched him if kind fate let me +find him, and I have found him. You have just +five minutes to live, so make the most of it, you +cowardly murderer!”</p> + +<p>Tex’s face went suddenly white again and his +nerve deserted him. His Colt was in his hand, +but oh, so useless! Should he fight to the end? +A shudder ran through him at the thought, for +life was so good, so precious; far too precious to +waste a minute of it by dying before his time was +up. Perhaps the foreman would relent, perhaps +he would become so wrapped up in the memories +of the years gone by as to forget, just for half a +second, where he was. The watch in The +Orphan’s hand gave him hope, for he would wait +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_390'></a>390</span> +until the other glanced at it–that would be his +only hope of life.</p> + +<p>The foreman’s watch ticked loudly in the palm +of his left hand and the Colt in his right never +quivered. The first minute passed in terrifying +silence, then the second, then the third, but all the +time The Orphan’s eyes stared steadily at the man +before him, gray, cruel, unblinking.</p> + +<p>“They told me to do it! They told me to do +it!” shrieked the pitiful, unnerved wreck of a +man as he convulsively opened and shut his hand. +“I didn’t want to do it! I swear I didn’t want to +do it! As God is above, I didn’t want to! They +made me, they made me!” he cried, his words +swiftly becoming an unintelligible jumble of meaningless +sounds. He stared at the black muzzle of +the Colt, frozen by terror, fascinated by horror +and deadened by despair. The watch ticked on +in maddening noise, for his every sense was now +most acute, beating in upon his brain like the +strokes of a hammer. Then the foreman glanced +quickly at it. The gun in Tex’s hand leaped up, +but not quickly enough, and a spurt of smoke +enveloped his face as he fell. The Orphan +stepped back, dropping the Colt into its holster.</p> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a id='link_i4'></a><img src='images/illus-390.jpg' alt='' /> +<p class='center caption'> +“The Orphan stepped back a pace and dropped<br />the Colt into its holster.” (<i>See page</i> 390.) +</p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_391'></a>391</span>“The courage of despair!” he whispered. +“But I’m glad he died game,” he slowly added. +Then he suddenly buried his face in his hands: +“Helen!” he cried. “Helen–forgive me!”</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_392'></a>392</span><a id='link_23'></a>CHAPTER XXIII<br /><span class='h2fs'>THE GREAT HAPPINESS</span></h2> + +<p><span class='dropcap'>T</span>HE town was rapidly losing sharpness of detail, for the straggling +buildings were becoming more and more blurred and +were growing into sharp silhouettes in the increasing +dusk, and the sickly yellow lights were growing +more numerous in the scattered windows.</p> + +<p>Helen moved about the dining-room engaged +in setting the table and she had just placed fresh +flowers in the vase, when she suddenly stopped +and listened. Faintly to her ears came the pounding +hoofbeats of a galloping horse on the well-packed +street, growing rapidly nearer with portentous +speed. It could not be Miss Ritchie, for +there was a vast difference between the comparatively +lazy gallop of her horse and the pulse-stirring +tattoo which she now heard. The hoofbeats +passed the corner without slackening pace, and +whirled up the street, stopping in front of the +house with a suddenness which she had long since +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_393'></a>393</span> +learned to attribute to cowboys. She stood still, +afraid to go to the door, numbed with a nameless +fear–something terrible must have happened, +perhaps to The Orphan. The rider ran up the +path, his spurs jingling sharply, leaped to the +porch, and the door was dashed open to show him +standing before her, sombrero in hand, his quirt +dangling from his left wrist. He was dusty and +tired, but the expression on his face terrified her, +held her speechless.</p> + +<p>“Helen!” he cried hoarsely, driving her fear +deeper into her heart by his altered voice. +“Helen!” She trembled, and he made a gesture +of hopelessness and involuntarily stepped toward +her, letting the door swing shut behind him. He +stood just within the room, rigidly erect, his eyes +meeting hers in the silence of strong emotion. +Breathlessly she retreated as he advanced, as if +instinct warned her of what he had to tell her, +until the table was between them; and a spasm of +pain flickered across his face as he noticed it, leaving +him hard and stern again, but in his eyes was +a look of despair, a keen misery which softened +her and drew her toward him even while she feared +him.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_394'></a>394</span>The silence became unbearable and at last she +could endure it no longer. “What is it?” she +breathed, tensely. “What have you to tell me?”</p> + +<p>His eyes never wavered from her face, fascinated +in despair of what he must read there, much +as he dreaded it, and he answered her from between +set lips, much as a man would pronounce his +own death sentence. “I have broken my word,” +he said, harshly.</p> + +<p>“Broken your word–to me?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>Her face brightened and was softened by a +child-like wonder, for she felt relieved in a degree, +and unconsciously she moved nearer to him. +“What is it–what have you done?”</p> + +<p>He regarded her without appraising the change +in her expression and his reply was as harsh and +stern as his first statement, accompanied by no +excuses nor words of extenuation. “I have killed +a man,” he said.</p> + +<p>A shiver passed over her and her eyes went +closed for a moment. The great choice was at +hand now, and in her heart a fierce, short battle +raged; on one side was arrayed her early training, +all her teachings, all regard for the ideas of law +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_395'></a>395</span> +and order which she had absorbed in the East, +where human life was safeguarded as the first +necessity; and on the other was the Unwritten Law +of the range as exemplified by The Orphan. Blood, +and human blood, was precious, and her early +environment fought bitterly against this regime of +direct justice, so startlingly driven into her mind +by his bold, cold admission. And then, he had +sinned in this way again after he had promised +her not to do so. The last thought dominated her +and she opened her eyes and looked at him +hopefully.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps,” she said, eagerly, “perhaps you +could not avoid it–perhaps you were forced to +do it.”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” she cried. “You did not–you did not +shoot him down without warning! I <i>know</i> you +didn’t!”</p> + +<p>“No, not that,” he said slowly. “And, besides, +this was his third offense. Twice I have given him +his life, and I would have done so again but for +what I discovered after I faced him.” He paused +for a moment and then continued, with more feeling +in his voice, a ring of victory and an irrepressible +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_396'></a>396</span> +elation. “I found that he was the man for +whom I have been looking for fifteen years, and +whom I had sworn to kill. He killed my father, +killed him like a dog and without a chance for +life, hung him to a tree on his own land. And +when I learned that, when he had confessed to me, +I forgot the new game, I forgot everything but +the watch in my hand slowly ticking away his life, +the time I had given him to make his peace with +God–and I hated the slow seconds, I begrudged +him every movement of the hands. Then I shot +him, and I was glad, so glad–but oh, dear! If +you–if you<span style='white-space: nowrap'>––</span>”</p> + +<p>His voice wavered and broke and he dropped +to his knees before her with bowed head as she +came slowly toward him and seized the hem of +her gown in both hands, kissing it passionately, +burying his face in its folds like a tired boy at his +mother’s knee.</p> + +<p>Her eyes were filled with tears and they rimmed +her lashes as she looked down on the man at her +feet. Bending, she touched him and then placed +her hands on his head, tenderly kissing the tangled +hair in loving forgiveness.</p> + +<p>“Dear, dear boy,” she murmured softly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_397'></a>397</span> +“Don’t, dear heart. Don’t, you must not–oh, +you must not! Please–come with me; get up, +dear, and sit with me over here in the corner; then +you shall tell me all about it. I am sure you have +not done wrong–and if you have–don’t you +know I love you, boy? Don’t you know I love +you?”</p> + +<p>He stirred slightly, as if awakening from a +troubled sleep, and slowly raised his head and +looked at her with doubt in his eyes, for it was so +much like a dream–perhaps it was one. But he +saw a light on her face, a light which a man sees +only on the face of one woman and which blinds +him against all other lights forever. Then it was +true, all true–he had heard aright! “Helen!” +he cried, “Helen!” and the ring in his voice +brought new tears to her eyes. He sprang to his +feet, tense, eager, all his nerves tingling, and his +quirt hissed through the air and snapped a defiance, +a warning to the world as he clasped her to +him. “I <i>knew</i>, I <i>knew!</i>” he cried passionately. +“In my heart I <i>knew</i> you were a thoroughbred!”</p> + +<p>He tilted her head back, but she laughed low +with delight and eluded him, leading him to a +chair, the chair he had occupied on the occasion +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_398'></a>398</span> +of his first visit, and then drew a low, rough footrest +beside him and seated herself at his feet, her +elbows resting on his knees and her chin in her +hands. He looked down into the upturned face +and then glanced swiftly about the homelike room +and back to her face again. She snuggled tightly +against his knees and waited patiently for his story.</p> + +<p>He sighed contentedly and touched her cheek +reverently and then told her all of the story of Tex +Williard, from the very beginning to the very end, +from the time he had seen Tex bending over one +of his father’s cows to the last scene in the thicket. +When he had finished, Helen took his head between +her hands, pressing it warmly as she nodded wisely +to show that she understood. He looked deep +into her eyes and then suddenly bent his head until +his lips touched her ear: “Helen, darling,” he +whispered, “how long must I wait?”</p> + +<p>“Why, you scamp!” she exclaimed, teasingly, +threatening to draw away from him. “You +haven’t even told me that you love me!”</p> + +<p>He pressed her hands tightly and laughed aloud, +joyously, filled with an elated, effervescent gladness +which surged over him in waves of delight: +“Haven’t I? Oh, but you know better, dear. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_399'></a>399</span> +Many and many times I have told you that, and +in many ways, and you knew it and understood. +You never doubted it, and I hope,” he added seriously, +“that you never will.”</p> + +<p>“I never will, dear.”</p> + +<p>They did not hear Grace Ritchie in the kitchen, +did not hear her quiet step as it crossed the +threshold and stopped, and then tiptoed to the +rear door and sped lightly around the house to +the street, and down it to where Mrs. Shields and +Mary were walking toward the house. They did +not know that half an hour had passed since the +coming of the quiet step and the three women, and +that the supper was hopelessly ruined. They knew +nothing–and Everything: they had learned the +Great Happiness.</p> + +<p class='c mt20'>THE END</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c fs12'>Popular Copyright Books</p> +<p class='c mb10'>AT MODERATE PRICES</p> +<p class='c mb10'>Any of the following titles can be bought of your<br />bookseller at the price you paid for this volume</p> + +<p><b>Alternative, The.</b> By George Barr McCutcheon.<br /> +<b>Angel of Forgiveness, The.</b> By Rosa N. Carey.<br /> +<b>Angel of Pain, The.</b> By E. F. Benson.<br /> +<b>Annals of Ann, The.</b> By Kate Trimble Sharber.<br /> +<b>Battle Ground, The.</b> By Ellen Glasgow.<br /> +<b>Beau Brocade.</b> By Baroness Orczy.<br /> +<b>Beechy.</b> By Bettina Von Hutten.<br /> +<b>Bella Donna.</b> By Robert Hichens.<br /> +<b>Betrayal, The.</b> By E. Phillips Oppenheim.<br /> +<b>Bill Toppers, The.</b> By Andre Castaigne.<br /> +<b>Butterfly Man, The.</b> By George Barr McCutcheon.<br /> +<b>Cab No. 44.</b> By R. F. 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Mulford + +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 Orphan + +Author: Clarence E. Mulford + +Illustrator: Allen True + +Release Date: July 1, 2010 [EBook #33039] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ORPHAN *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.fadedpage.net + + + + + +THE ORPHAN + + + + +[Illustration: "She unfastened the gold breast-pin which she wore at her +throat and pinned the bandage into place." (_See page 95._)] + + + + +THE ORPHAN + +By Clarence E. Mulford + +Author of "Bar-20" + +With Four Illustrations in Colors + +By ALLEN TRUE + +A. L. BURT COMPANY + +PUBLISHERS NEW YORK + + + + +Copyright, 1908, by + +THE OUTING PUBLISHING COMPANY + +Entered at Stationer's Hall, London, England + +All Rights Reserved + +THE ORPHAN + + + + +AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED TO + +MY MOTHER + + + + +CONTENTS + + I THE SHERIFF RIDES TO WAR 3 + II CONCERNING AN ARROW 14 + III THE SHERIFF FINDS THE ORPHAN 33 + IV THE SECOND OFFENSE 45 + V BILL JUSTIFIES HIS CREATION 60 + VI THE ORPHAN OBEYS AN IMPULSE 80 + VII THE OUTFIT HUNTS FOR STRAYS 104 + VIII "A TIMBER WOLF IN HIS OWN COUNTRY" 125 + IX THE CROSS BAR-8 LOSES SLEEP 131 + X THE ORPHAN PAYS TWO CALLS 147 + XI A VOICE FROM THE GALLERY 173 + XII A NEW DEAL ALL AROUND 193 + XIII THE STAR C GIVES WELCOME 210 + XIV THE SHERIFF STATES SOME FACTS 240 + XV AN UNDERSTANDING 266 + XVI THE FLYING-MARE 284 + XVII THE FEAST 299 + XVIII PREPARATION 325 + XIX THE ORPHAN GOES TO THE A-Y 340 + XX BILL ATTENDS THE PICNIC 352 + XXI THE ANNOUNCEMENT 368 + XXII TEX WILLIARD'S MISTAKE 375 + XXIII THE GREAT HAPPINESS 392 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + "She unfastened the gold breast-pin which she + wore at her throat and pinned the bandage into + place" _Frontispiece_ + "'The less you count the longer you'll live!' + said Shields" 192 + The Orphan gives Blake Shields' note 214 + "The Orphan stepped back a pace and dropped the + Colt into its holster" 390 + + + + +THE ORPHAN + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE SHERIFF RIDES TO WAR + + +Many men swore that The Orphan was bad, and many swore profanely and with +wonderful command of epithets because he was bad, but for obvious reasons +that was as far as the majority went to show their displeasure. Those of +the minority who had gone farther and who had shown their hatred by rash +actions only proved their foolishness; for they had indeed gone far and +would return no more. + +Tradition had it that The Orphan was a mongrel, a half-breed, asserting +that his mother had been a Sioux with negro blood in her veins. It also +asserted that his father had been nominated and unanimously elected, by a +posse, to an elevated position under a tree; and further, that The Orphan +himself had been born during a cloudburst at midnight on the thirteenth +of the month. The latter was from the Mexicans, who found great delight in +making such terrifying combinations of ill luck. + +But tradition was strongly questioned as to his mother, for how could +the son of such a mother be possessed of the dare-devil courage and grit +which had made his name a synonym of terror? This contention was well +stated and is borne out, for it can be authoritatively said that the +mother of The Orphan was white, and had neither Indian nor negro blood +in her veins, but on the contrary came from a family of gentlefolk. +Thus I start aright by refuting slander. The Orphan was white, his +profanity blue, and his anger red, and having started aright, I will +continue with the events which led to the discovery of his innate better +qualities and their final ascendency over the savagely hard nature +which circumstances had bred in him. These events began on the day +when James Shields, for reasons hereinafter set forth, became actively +interested in his career. + +Shields, by common consent Keeper of the Law over a territory as large as +the State of New Jersey and whom out of courtesy I will call sheriff, +was no coward, and neither was he a fool; and when word came to him +that The Orphan had made a mess of two sheep herders near the U Bend of +the Limping Water Creek, he did not forthwith pace the street and +inform the citizens of Ford's Station that he was about to start on a +journey which had for its object the congratulation of The Orphan at +long range. Upon occasions his taciturnity became oppressive, especially +when grave dangers or tense situations demanded concentration of thought. +The more he thought the less he talked, the one notable exception +being when stirred to righteous anger by personal insults, in which case +his words flowed smoothly along one channel while his thoughts gripped a +single idea. To his acquaintances he varied as the mood directed, often +saying practically nothing for hours, and at other times discoursing +volubly. One thing, a word of his, had become proverbial--when Shields +said "Hell!" he was in no mood for pleasantries, and the third repetition +of the word meant red, red anger. He was a man of strong personality, +who loved his friends in staunch, unswerving loyalty; and he tolerated +his enemies until the last ditch had been reached. + +He, like The Orphan, was essentially a humorist in the finest definition +of the term, inasmuch as he could find humor in the worst possible +situations. He was even now forcibly struck with the humor of his +contemplated ride, for The Orphan would be so very much surprised to see +him. He could picture the expression of weary toleration which would +grace the outlaw's face over the sights, and he chuckled inwardly as +he thought of how The Orphan would swear. He did his shooting as an +unavoidable duty, a business, a stern necessity; and he took great +delight in its accuracy. When he shot at a man he did it with becoming +gravity, but nevertheless he radiated pride and cheerfulness when he hit +the man's nose or eye or Adam's apple at a hundred yards. All the time +he knew that the man ought to die, that it was a case of necessity, and +this explains why he was so pleased about the eye or nose or Adam's apple. + +With The Orphan popular opinion said it was far different; that his humor +was ghastly, malevolent, murderous; that he shot to kill with the +same gravity, but that it was that of icy determination, chilling +ferocity. He was said to be methodical in the taking of innocent life, +even more accurate than the sheriff, wily and shrewd as the leader of +a wolf-pack, and equally relentless. The Orphan was looked upon as an +abnormal development of the idea of destruction; the sheriff, a corrective +force, and almost as strong as the evil he would endeavor to overcome. +The two came as near to the scientists' little joke of the irresistible +force meeting the immovable body as can be found in human agents. + +So Shields, upon hearing of The Orphan's latest manifestation of humor, +appreciated the joke to the fullest extent and made up his mind to play +a similar one on the frisky outlaw. He could not help but sympathize +with The Orphan, because every man knew what pests the sheepmen were, +and Shields, at one time a cowman, was naturally prejudiced against +sheep. He was exceedingly weary of having to guard herds of bleating +grass-shavers which so often passed across his domain, and he regarded +the sheep-raising industry as an unnecessary evil which should by all +rights be deported. But he could not excuse The Orphan's crude and savage +idea of deportation. The sheriff was really kind-hearted, and he became +angry when he thought of the outlaw driving two thousand sheep over +the steep bank of the Limping Water to a pitiful death by drowning; The +Orphan should have been satisfied in messing up the anatomy of the +herders. He did not like a glutton, and he would tell the outlaw so +in his own way. + +He walked briskly through his yard and called to his wife as he passed +the house, telling her that he was going to be gone for an indefinite +period, not revealing the object of his journey, as he did not wish +to worry her. Accustomed as she was to have him face danger, she had a +loving wife's fear for his safety, and lost many hours' sleep while he +was away. He took his rifle from where it leaned against the porch and +continued on his way to the small corral in the rear of the yard, where +two horses whisked flies and sought the shade. Leading one of them +outside, he deftly slung a saddle to its back, secured the cinches +and put on a light bridle. Dropping the Winchester into its saddle +holster, he mounted and fought the animal for a few minutes just as he +always had to fight it. He spun the cylinders of his .45 Colts and ran his +fingers along the under side of his belt for assurance as to ammunition. +Seeing that the black leather case which was slung from the pommel of +the saddle contained his field glass and that his canteen was full of +water, he rode to the back door of his house, where his wife gave him +a bag of food. Promising her that he would take good care of himself +and to return as speedily as possible, he cantered through the gate +and down the street toward the "Oasis," the door of which was always open. +Two dogs were stretched out in the doorway, lazily snapping at flies. +As the sheriff drew rein he heard snores which wheezed from the barroom. + +"Say, Dan!" he cried loudly. "Dan!" + +"Shout it out, Sheriff," came the response from within the darkened room, +and the bartender appeared at the door. + +"If anybody wants me, they may find me at Brent's; I'm going out that +way," the sheriff said, as he loosened the reins. "Bite, d------n you," +he growled at his horse. + +"All right, Jim," sleepily replied the bartender, watching the peace +officer as he cantered briskly down the street. He yawned, stretched +and returned to his chair, there to doze lightly as long as he might. + +Shields usually left word at the Oasis as to where he might be found in +case he should be badly needed, but in this instance he had left word +where he could not be found if needed. He cantered out of the town over +the trail which led to Brent's ranch and held to it until he had put +great enough distance behind to assure him that he was out of sight of any +curious citizen of Ford's Station. Then he wheeled abruptly as he reached +the bottom of an arroyo and swung sharply to the northeast at a right +angle to his former course and pushed his mount at a lope around the +chaparrals and cacti, all the time riding more to the east and in the +direction of the U Bend of the Limping Water. He frowned slightly and +grumbled as he estimated that The Orphan would have nearly three hours' +start of him by the time he reached his objective, which meant a long +chase in the pursuit of such a man. + +To a tenderfoot the heat would have been very oppressive, even dangerous, +but the sheriff thought it an ideal temperature for hunting. He smiled +pleasantly at his surroundings and was pleased by the playful vim of +his belligerent pinto, whose actions were not in the least intended to +be playful. When the animal suddenly turned its head and nipped hard and +quick at the sheriff's legs, getting a mouthful of nasty leather and +seasoned ash for its reward, he gleefully kicked the pony in the eye +when it let go, and then rowelled a streak of perforations in its ugly +hide with his spurs as an encouragement. The ensuing bucking was joy +to his heart, and he feared that he might eventually grow to like the +animal. + +When he arrived at the U Bend he put in half an hour burying the human +butts of The Orphan's joke, for the perpetrator liked to leave his +trophies where they could be seen and appreciated. Shields looked sadly +at the dead sheep, said "Hell" twice and forded the stream, picked up the +outlaw's trail on the further side and cantered along it. The trail +was very plain to him, straight as a chalk line, and it led toward +the northeast, which suited the sheriff, because there was a goodly +sized water hole twenty miles further on in that direction. Perhaps he +would find The Orphan fortified there, for it would be just like that +person to monopolize the only drinking water within twenty miles and +force his humorous adversary to either take the hole or go back to the +Limping Water for a drink. Anyway, The Orphan would get awfully soiled +wallowing about in the mud and water, and he would not hurt the water +much unless he lacked the decency to bleed on the bank. Having decided +to take the hole in preference to riding back to the creek, the sheriff +immediately dismissed that phase of the game from his mind and fell to +musing about the rumors which had persistently reiterated that the +Apaches were out. + +Practical joking with The Orphan and interfering with the traveling of +Apache war parties were much the same in results, so the sheriff made +up his mind to attend to the lesser matter, if need be, after he had +quieted the man he was following. Everybody knew that Apaches were very +bad, but that The Orphan was worse; and, besides, the latter would be +laughing derisively about that matter concerning a drink. The sheriff +grinned and rode happily forward, taking pains, however, to circle +around all chaparrals and covers of every nature, for he did not know but +that his playful enemy might have tired of riding before the water +hole had been reached and decided to camp out under cover. While the +sheriff was unafraid, he had befitting respect for the quality of The +Orphan's marksmanship, which was reputed as being above reproach; and he +was not expected to determine offhand whether the outlaw was above lying +in ambush. So he used his field glass constantly in sweeping covers and +rode forward toward the water hole. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +CONCERNING AN ARROW + + +The bleak foreground of gray soil, covered with drifts of alkali and +sand, was studded with clumps of mesquite and cacti and occasional tufts +of sun-burned grass, dusty and somber, while a few sagebrush blended their +leaves to the predominating color. Back of this was a near horizon to the +north and east, brought near by the skyline of a low, undulating range +of sand hills rising from the desert to meet a faded sky. The morning +glow brought this skyline into sharp definition as the dividing line +between the darkness of the plain in the shadow of the range and the fast +increasing morning light. To the south and west the plain blended into +the sky, and there was no horizon. + +Two trails met and crossed near a sand-buffeted bowlder of lava stone, +which was huge, grotesque and forbidding in its bulky indistinctness. +The first of the trails ran north and south and was faint but plainly +discernible, being beaten a trifle below the level of the desert and +forming a depression which the winds alternately filled and emptied of +dust; and its arrow-like directness, swerving neither to the right nor +left, bespoke of the haste which urged the unfortunate traveler to +have done with it as speedily as possible, since there was nothing +alluring along its heat-cursed course to bid him tarry in his riding. +There was yet another reason for haste, for the water holes were over +fifty miles apart, and in that country water holes were more or less +uncertain and doubtful as to being free from mineral poisons. On the +occasions when the Apaches awoke to find that many of their young men +were missing, and a proved warrior or two, this trail become weighted +with possibilities, for this desert was the playground of war parties, an +unlimited ante-room for the preliminaries to predatory pilgrimages; and +the northern trail then partook of the nature of a huge wire over which +played an alternating current, the potentials of which were the ranges +at one end and the savagery and war spirit of the painted tribes at the +other: and the voltage was frequently deadly. + +The other trail, crossing the first at right angles, led eastward to the +fertile valleys of the Canadian and the Cimarron; westward it spread out +like the sticks of a fan to anywhere and nowhere, gradually resolving +itself into the fainter and still more faint individual paths which +fed it as single strands feed a rope. It lacked the directness of its +intersector because of the impenetrable chaparrals which forced it to +wander hither and yon. Neither was it as plain to the eye, for preference, +except in cases of urgent necessity, foreswore its saving of miles and +journeyed by the more circuitous southern trail which wound beneath +cottonwoods and mottes of live oak and frequently dipped beneath the +waters of sluggish streams, the banks of which were fringed with willows. + +As a lean coyote loped past the point of intersection a moving object +suddenly topped the skyline of the southern end of the sandhills to the +east and sprang into sharp silhouette, paused for an instant on the edge +of the range and then, plunging down into the shadows at its base, rode +rapidly toward the bowlder. + +He was an Apache, and was magnificent in his proportions and the easy +erectness of his poise. He glanced sharply about him, letting his gaze +finally settle on the southern trail and then, leaning over, he placed an +object on the highest point of the rock. Wheeling abruptly, he galloped +back over his trail, the rising wind setting diligently at work to cover +the hoofprints of his pony. He had no sooner dropped from sight over the +hills than another figure began to be defined in the dim light, this time +from the north. + +The newcomer rode at an easy canter and found small pleasure in the cloud +of alkali dust which the wind kept at pace with him. His hat, the first +visible sign of his calling, proclaimed him to be a cowboy, and when +he had stopped at the bowlder his every possession endorsed the silent +testimony of the hat. + +He was bronzed and self-reliant, some reason for the latter being +suggested by the long-barreled rifle which swung from his right saddle +skirt and the pair of Colt's which lay along his thighs. He wore the +usual blue flannel shirt, open at the throat, the regular silk kerchief +about his neck, and the indispensable chaps, which were of angora +goatskin. His boots were tight fitting, with high heels, and huge +brass spurs projected therefrom. A forty-foot coil of rawhide hung from +the pommel of his "rocking-chair" saddle and a slicker was strapped +behind the cantle. + +He glanced behind him as he drew rein, wondering when the sheriff would +show himself, for he was being followed, of that he was certain. That was +why he had ridden through so many chaparrals and doubled on his trail. +He was now riding to describe a circle, the object being to get behind +his pursuer and to do some hunting on his own account. As he started to +continue on his way his quick eyes espied something on the bowlder +which made him suddenly draw rein again. Glancing to the ground he saw +the tracks made by the Apache, and he peered intently along the eastern +trail with his hand shading his eyes. The eyes were of a grayish blue, +hard and steely and cruel. They were calculating eyes, and never missed +anything worth seeing. The fierce glare of the semi-tropical sun which for +many years had daily assaulted them made it imperative that he squint +from half-closed lids, and had given his face a malevolent look. And the +characteristics promised by the eyes were endorsed by his jaw, which was +square and firm set, underlying thin, straight lips. But about his +lips were graven lines so cynical and yet so humorous as to baffle an +observer. + +Raising his canteen to his lips he counted seven swallows and then, +letting it fall to his side, he picked up the object which had made +him pause. There was no surprise in his face, for he never was surprised +at anything. + +As he looked at the object he remembered the rumors of the Apache war +dances and of fast-riding, paint-bedaubed "hunting parties." What had been +rumor he now knew to be a fact, and his face became even more cruel as +he realized that he was playing tag with the sheriff in the very heart +of the Apache playground, where death might lurk in any of the thorny +covers which surrounded him on all sides. + +"Apache war arrow," he grunted. "Now it shore beats the devil that me and +the sheriff can't have a free rein to settle up our accounts. Somebody is +always sticking their nose in my business," he grumbled. Then he frowned +at the arrow in his hand. "That red on the head is blood," he murmured, +noticing the salient points of the weapon, "and that yellow hair means +good scalping. The thong of leather spells plunder, and it was pointing +to the east. The buck that brought it went back again, so this is to +show his friends which way to ride. He was in a hurry, too, judging from +the way he threw sand, and from them toe-prints." + +He hated Apaches vindictively, malevolently, with a single purpose and +instinct, because of a little score he owed them. Once when he had managed +to rustle together a big herd of horses and was within a day's ride of a +ready market, a party of Apaches had ridden up in the night and made off +with not only the stolen animals, but also with his own horse. This had +lost him a neat sum and had forced him to carry a forty-pound saddle, a +bridle and a rifle for two days under a merciless sun before he reached +civilization. He did not thank them for not killing him, which they for +some reason neglected to do. Apache stock was down very low with him, and +he now had an opportunity to even the score. Then he thought of the +sheriff, and swore. Finally he decided that he would just shoot that +worthy as soon as he came within range, and so be free to play his lone +hand against the race that had stolen his horses. His eyes twinkled +at the game he was about to play, and he regarded the silent message and +guide with a smile. + +"If it's all the same to you, I'll just polish you up a bit"--and when +he replaced it on the bowlder its former owner would not have known +it to be the same weapon, for its head was not red, but as bright as +the friction of a handful of sand could make it. This destroyed its +message of plentiful slaughter and, he knew, would grieve his enemies. +He touched it gently with his hand and it swung at right angles to its +former position and now pointed northward and in the direction from which +he expected the sheriff. + +"It was d----d nice of that Apache leaving me this, but I reckon I'll +switch them reinforcements--the sheriff will be some pleased to meet +them," he said, grinning at the novelty of the situation. "Nobody +will even suspect how a lone puncher"--for he regarded himself as a +cowman--"squaring up a couple of scores went and saved the eastern +valleys from more devilment. If the war-whoops are out along the Cimarron +and Canadian they are shore havin' fun enough to give me a little. But +I would like to see the sheriff's face when he bumps into the little +party I'm sending his way. Wonder how many he will get before he goes +under?" + +Then he again took up the arrow and carefully removed the hair and thong +of leather, chuckling at the tale of woe the denuded weapon would tell, +after which he placed it as before, wishing he knew how to indicate that +the Apaches had been wiped out. + +He rode to a chaparral which lay three hundred yards to the southeast of +him and thence around it to the far side, where he dismounted and fastened +his horse to the empty air by simply allowing the reins to hang down in +front of the animal's eyes. The pony knew many things about ropes and +straps, and what it knew it knew well; nothing short of dynamite would +have moved it while the reins dangled before its eyes. + +Its master slowly returned to the bowlder, where he set to work to cover +his tracks with dust, for although the shifting sand was doing this for +him, it was not doing it fast enough to suit him. When he had assured +himself that he had performed his task in a thoroughly workmanlike manner +he returned to his horse, and finally found a snug place of concealment +for it and himself. First bandaging its eyes so that it would not whinny +at the approach of other horses, he searched his pockets and finally +brought to light a pack of greasy playing cards, with which he amused +himself at solitaire, diligently keeping his eyes on both ends of the +heavier trail. + +His intermittent scrutiny was finally rewarded by a cloud of dust which +steadily grew larger on the southern horizon and soon revealed the +character of the riders who made it. As they drew nearer to him his +implacable hatred caused him to pick up his rifle, but he let it slide +from him as he counted the number of the approaching party, before +which was being driven a herd of horses which were intended to be placed +as relays for the main force. + +"Two, five, eight, eleven, sixteen, twenty, twenty-four, twenty-seven," +he muttered, carefully settling himself more comfortably. He could +distinguish the war paint on the reddish-brown colored bodies, and he +smiled at what was in store for them. + +"I reckon I won't get gay with no twenty-seven Apaches," he muttered. "I +can wait, all right." + +Upon reaching the rock the leaders of the band glanced at the arrow, +excitedly exchanged monosyllables and set off to the north at a hard +gallop, being followed by the others. As he expected, they were Apaches, +which meant that of all red raiders they were the most proficient. They +were human hyenas with rare intelligence for war and a most aggravating +way of not being where one would expect them to be, as army officers will +testify. Besides, an Apache war party did not appear to have stomachs, +and so traveled faster and farther than the cavalry which so often +pursued them. + +The watcher chuckled softly at the success of his stratagem and, suddenly +arising, went carefully around the chaparral until he could see the +fast-vanishing braves. Waiting until they had disappeared over the +northern end of the crescent-shaped range of hills, he hurried to the +bowlder and again picked up the arrow. + +"Huh! Didn't take it with them, eh?" he soliloquized. "Well, that +means that there's more coming, so I'll just send the next batch plumb +west--they'll be some pleased to explore this God-forsaken desert some +extensive." + +Grinning joyously, he replaced the weapon with its head pointing westward +and then looked anxiously at the tracks of the party which had just +passed. Deciding that the wind would effectually cover them in an hour +at most, he returned to his hiding place, taking care to cover his own +tracks. Taking a chance on the second contingent going north was all +right, but he didn't care to run the risk of having them ride to him for +explanations. Picking up the cards again he shuffled them and suffered +defeat after defeat, and finally announced his displeasure at the luck +he was having. + +"I never saw nothing like it!" he grumbled petulantly. "Reckon I'll +hit up the Old Thirteen a few," beginning a new game. He had whiled +away an hour and a half, and as he stretched himself his uneasy eyes +discovered another cloud on the southern horizon, which was smaller than +the first. He placed the six of hearts on the five of hearts, ruffled +the pack and then put the cards down and took up his rifle, watching the +cloud closely. He was soon able to count seven warriors who were driving +another "cavvieyeh" of horses. + +"Huh! Only seven!" he grunted, shifting his rifle for action. The fighting +lust swept over him, but he choked it down and idly fingered the hammer of +the gun. "Nope, I reckon not--seven husky Apaches are too much for one +man to go out of his way to fight. Now, if the sheriff was only with me," +and he grinned at the humor of it, "we might cut loose and heave lead. +But since he ain't, this is where I don't chip in--I'll wait a while, +for they'll shore come back." + +The seven warriors went through almost the same actions which their +predecessors had gone through and great excitement prevailed among them. +The leaders pointed to the very faint tracks which led northward and +debated vehemently. But the two small stones which held the arrow securely +in its position against the possibility of the wind shifting it could +not be doubted, and after a few minutes had passed they rode as bidden, +leaving one of their number on guard at the bowlder. Soon the other +six were lost to sight among the chaparrals to the west and the guard sat +stolidly under the blazing sun. + +The dispatcher noted the position of a shadow thrown on the sand by a +cactus and laughed silently as he fingered his rifle. He could not think +out the game. Try as he would, he could find no really good excuse for +the placing of the guard, although many presented themselves, to be +finally cast aside. But the fact was enough, and when the moving shadow +gave assurance that nearly an hour had passed since the departure of +the guard's companions, the man with the grudge cautiously arose on one +knee. + +After examining the contents of his rifle, he brought it slowly to +his shoulder. A quick, calculating glance told him that the range was +slightly over three hundred yards, and he altered the elevation of the +rear sights accordingly. After a pause, during which he gauged the +strength and velocity of the northern wind, he dropped his cheek against +the walnut stock of the weapon. The echoless report rang out flatly +and a sudden gust of hot wind whipped the ragged, gray smoke cloud into +the chaparral, where it lay close to the ground and spread out like a +miniature fog. As the smoke cleared away a second cartridge, inserted +deftly and quickly, sent another cloud of smoke into the chaparral +and the marksman arose to his feet, mechanically reloading his gun. The +second shot was for the guard's horse, for it would be unnecessarily +perilous to risk its rejoining the departed braves, which it very probably +would do if allowed to escape. + +Dropping his rifle into the hollow of his arm he walked swiftly toward +the fallen Indian, hoping that there would be no more war parties, for +he had now made signs which the most stupid Apache could not fail to note +and understand. The dead guard could be hidden, and by the use of his own +horse and rope he could drag the carcass of the animal into the chaparral +and out of sight. But the trail which would be left in the loose sand +would be too deep and wide to be covered. He had crossed the Rubicon, and +must stand or fall by the step. + +The Indian had fallen forward against the bowlder and had slid down its +side, landing on his head and shoulders, in which grotesque position the +rock supported him. One glance assured the "cowman" that his aim had +been good, and another told him that he had to fear the arrival of no +more war parties, for the arrow was gone. He was not satisfied, however, +until he had made a good search for it, thinking that it might have +been displaced by the fall of the Apache. He lifted the body of the +dead warrior in his arms and flung it across the apex of the bowlder, +face up and balanced nicely, the head pointing to the north. Then he +looked for the arrow on the sand where the body had rested, but it was +not to be found. A sardonic grin flitted across his face as he secured +the weapons of the late guard, which were a heavy Colt's revolver and a +late pattern Winchester repeater. Taking the cartridges from his body, he +stood up triumphant. He now had what he needed to meet the smaller body +of Indians on their return, ten shots in one rifle and a spare Colt's. + +"One for my cavvieyeh!" he muttered savagely as he thought of the loss of +his horse herd. "There'll be more, too, before I get through, or my +name's not"-- he paused abruptly, hearing hoofbeats made by a galloping +horse over a stretch of hard soil which lay to the east of him. Leaping +quickly behind the bowlder, he leveled his own rifle across the body of +the guard and peered intently toward the east, wondering if the advancing +horseman would be the sheriff or another Apache. The hoofbeats came +rapidly nearer and another courier turned the corner of the chaparral +and went no further. Again a second shot took care of the horse and the +marksman strode to his second victim, from whose body and horse he took +another Winchester and Colt. + +"Now I am in for it!" he muttered as he looked down at the warrior. "This +is shore getting warm and it'll be a d----n sight warmer if his friends +get anxious about him and hunt him up." + +Glancing around the horizon and seeing no signs of an interruption, he +slung the body across his shoulders and staggered with it to the bowlder, +where he heaved and pushed it across the body of the first Apache. + +"Might as well make a good showing and make them mad, for I can't very +well hide you and the cayuses--I ain't no graveyard," he said, stepping +back to look at his work. He felt no remorse, for that was a sensation +not yet awakened in his consciousness. He was elated at his success, +joyous in catering to his love for fighting, for he would rather die +fighting than live the round of years heavily monotonous with peace, +and his only regret was having won by ambush. But in this, he told +himself, there was need, for his hatred ordered him to kill as many as +he could, and in any way possible. Knowing that he was, single-handed, +attempting to outwit wily chiefs and that he had before him a carnival of +fighting, he would not have hesitated to make use of traps if they were +at hand and could be used. Perhaps it was old Geronimo whose plans he +was defeating and, if so, no precautions nor means were unjustifiable and +too mean to make use of, for Geronimo was half-brother to the devil and a +genius for warfare and slaughter, with a ferocity and cruelty cold-blooded +and consummate. + +He had yet time to escape from his perilous position and meet the sheriff, +if that worthy had eluded the first war party. But his elation had the +upper hand and his brute courage was now blind to caution. He savagely +decided that his matter with the sheriff could wait and that he would +take care of the war parties first, since there was more honor in fighting +against odds. The two Winchesters and his own Sharps, not to consider +the four Colt's, gave him many shots without having to waste time in +reloading, and he drew assurance from the past that he placed his shots +quickly and with precision. He could put up a magnificent fight in the +chaparral, shifting his position after each shot, and he could hug the +ground where the trunks of the vegetation were thickest and would prove +an effective barrier against random shots. His wits were keen, his legs +nimble, his eyesight and accuracy above doubt, and he had no cause to +believe that his strategy was inferior to that of his foes. There would be +no moon for two nights, and he could escape in the darkness if hunger +and thirst should drive him out. Here he had struck, and here he would +strike again and again, and, if he fell, he would leave behind him such +a tale of fighting as had seldom been known before; and it pleased his +vanity to think of the amazement the story would call forth as it was +recounted around the campfires and across the bars of a country larger +than Europe. He did not realize that such a tale would die if he died and +would never be known. His was the joy of a master of the game, a virile, +fearless fighting machine, a man who had never failed in the playing of +the many hands he had held in desperate games with death. He was not +going to die; he was going to win and leave dying for others. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE SHERIFF FINDS THE ORPHAN + + +The day dragged wearily along for the man in the chaparral, and when the +sun showed that it was still two hours from the meridian he leaped to +his feet, rifle in hand, and peered intently to the west, where he +had seen a fast-riding horseman flit between two chaparrals which stood +far down on the western end of the Cimarron Trail. Without pausing, he +made his way out of cover and ran rapidly along the edge of the thicket +until he had gained its northwestern extremity, where he plunged into +it, unmindful of the cuts and slashes from the interlocked thorns. +Using the rifle as a club, he hammered and pushed until he was screened +from the view of anyone passing along the trail, but where he could +see all who approached. As he turned and faced the west he saw the +horseman suddenly emerge from the shelter of the last chaparral in his +course and ride straight for the intersection of the trails, his horse +flattened to the earth by the speed it was making. Waiting until the +rider was within fifty yards of him, he pushed his way out to the trail, +the rifle leaping to his shoulder as he stepped into the open. The +newcomer was looking back at half a dozen Apaches who had burst into view +by the chaparral he had just quitted, and when he turned he was stopped +by a hail and the sight of an unwavering rifle held by the man on foot. + +"A truce!" shouted The Orphan from behind the sights, having an idea and +wishing to share it. + +"Hell, yes!" cried the astonished sheriff in reply, slowing down and +mechanically following the already running outlaw to the place where +the latter had spent the last few hours. + +By keeping close to the edge of the chaparral, which receded from the +trail, The Orphan had not been seen by the Apaches, and as he turned into +his hiding place a yell reached his ears. His trophies on the bowlder +were not to be unmourned. + +As he wormed his way into the thicket, closely followed by the sheriff, +he tersely explained the situation, and Shields, feeling somewhat under +obligation to the man who had refrained from killing him, nodded and +smiled in good nature. The sheriff thought it was a fine joke and +enthusiastically slapped his enemy on the back to show his appreciation, +for the time forgetting that they very probably would try to kill each +other later on, after the Apaches had been taken care of. + +As they reached a point which gave them a clear view of the bowlder, The +Orphan kicked his companion on the shin, pointing to the Apaches grouped +around their dead. + +"It's a little over three hundred, Sheriff," he said. "You shoot first and +I'll follow you, so they'll think you shot twice--there's no use letting +them think that there's two of us, that is, not yet." + +"Good idea," replied the sheriff, nodding and throwing his rifle to +his shoulder. "Right end for me," he said, calling his shot so as to be +sure that the same brave would not receive all the attention. As he fired +his companion covered the second warrior, using one of his captured +Winchesters, and a second later the rifle spun flame. Both warriors +dropped and the remaining four hastily postponed their mourning and +tumbled helter skelter behind the bowlder, the sheriff's second shot +becoming a part of the last one to find cover. + +"Fine!" exulted the sheriff, delighted at the score. "Best game I ever +took a hand in, d-----d if it ain't! We'll have them guessing so hard that +they'll get brain fever." + +"Three shots in as many seconds will make them think that they are +facing a Winchester in the hands of a crack shot," remarked The Orphan, +smiling with pleasure at the sheriff's appreciation. "They'll think +that if they can back off from the bowlder and keep it between them and +you that they can get out of range in a few hundred yards more. That is +where I come in again. You sling a little lead to let them know that you +haven't moved a whole lot, but stop in a couple of minutes, while I go +down the line a ways. The chaparral sweeps to the north quite a little, +and mebby I can drop a slug behind their fort from down there. That'll +make them think you are a jack rabbit at covering ground and will bother +them. If they rush, which they won't after tasting that kind of shooting, +you whistle good and loud and we'll make them plumb disgusted. I'll take +a Winchester along with me, so they won't have any cause to suspect that +you are an arsenal. So long." + +The sheriff glanced up as his companion departed and was pleased at the +outlaw's command of the situation. He had a good chance to wipe out the +man, but that he would not do, for The Orphan trusted him, and Shields +was one who respected a thing like that. + +The outlaw finally stopped about a hundred yards down the trail and looked +out, using his glasses. A brown shoulder showed under the overhanging side +of the bowlder and he smiled, readjusting the sights on the Winchester as +he waited. Soon the shoulder raised from the ground and pushed out farther +into sight. Then a poll of black hair showed itself and slowly raised. +The Orphan took deliberate aim and pulled the trigger. The head dropped to +the sand and the shoulder heaved convulsively once or twice and then lay +quiet. Leaping up, the marksman hastened back to the side of the sheriff, +who did not trouble himself to look up. + +"I got him, Sheriff," he said. "Work up to the other end and I'll go back +to where I came from. They have got all the fighting they have any use for +and will be backing away purty soon now. The range from the point where I +held you is some closer than it is from here, so you ought to get in a +shot when they get far enough back." + +"All right," pleasantly responded Shields, vigorously attacking the thorns +as he began his journey to the western end of the thicket. "Ouch!" he +exclaimed as he felt the pricks. Then he stopped and slowly turned and +saw The Orphan smiling at him, and grinned: + +"Say," he began, "why can't I go around?" he asked, indicating with a +sweep of his arm the southern edge of the chaparral, and intimating that +it would be far more pleasant to skirt the thorns than to buck against +them. "These d------d thorns ain't no joke!" he added emphatically. + +The outlaw's smile enlarged and he glanced quickly at the bowlder to see +that all was as it should be. + +"You can go around in one day afoot," he replied. "By that time +they"--pointing to the Apaches--"will have made a day's journey on +cayuses. And we simply mustn't let them get the best of us that way." + +Shields grinned and turned half-way around again: "It's a whole lot dry +out here," he said, "and my canteen is on my cayuse." + +"Here, pardner," replied The Orphan, holding out his canteen and watching +the effect of the familiarity. "Seven swallows is the dose." + +The sheriff faced him, took the vessel, counted seven swallows and +returned it. + +"I'm some moist now," he remarked, as he returned to the thorns. "It's +too d------n bad you're bad," he grumbled. "You'd make a blamed good +cow-puncher." + +The Orphan, still smiling, placed his hands on hips and watched the +rapidly disappearing arm of the law. + +"He's all right--too bad he'll make me shoot him," he soliloquized, +turning toward his post. As he crawled through a particularly badly matted +bit of chaparral he stopped to release himself and laughed outright. "How +in thunder did he get so far west? My trail was as plain as day, too." +When he had reached his destination and had settled down to watch the +bowlder he laughed again and muttered: "Mebby he figured it out that I +was doubling back and was laying for me to show up. And that's just the +way I would have gone, too. He ain't any fool, all right." + +He thought of the sheriff at the far end of the chaparral and of the +repeater he carried, and an inexplicable impulse of generosity surged +over him. The sheriff would be pleased to do the rest himself, he thought, +and the thought was father to the act. He picked up the Winchester he +had brought with him and fired at the bowlder, only wishing to let the +Apaches know his position so that they would think the way clear to +the northwest, and so innocently give the sheriff a shot at them as +they retreated. Dropping the Winchester he took up his Sharps, his pet +rifle, with which he had done wonderful shooting, and arose to one +knee, supporting his left elbow on the other; between the fingers of +his left hand he held a cartridge in order that no time should be lost in +reloading. The range was now five hundred yards, and when The Orphan knew +the exact range he swore with rage if he missed. + +His shot had the effect he hoped it would have, for suddenly there was +movement behind the bowlder. A pony's hip showed for an instant and +then leaped from sight as the outlaw reloaded. A cloud of dust arose to +the northwest of and behind the bowlder, and a series of close reports +sounded from the direction of the sheriff. The Orphan leaped to his feet +and dashed out on the plain to where his sight would not be obstructed +and saw an Apache, who hung down on the far side of his horse, sweep +northward and gallop along the northern trail. He fired, but the range +was too great, and the warrior soon dropped from sight over the range +of hills. As The Orphan made his way toward the bowlder the sheriff +emerged from his shelter and pointed to the west. A pony lay on its side +and not far away was the huddled body of its rider. + +As they neared each other the outlaw noticed something peculiar about +the sheriff's ear, and his look of inquiry was rewarded. "Stung," +remarked Shields, grinning apologetically. "Just as I shot," he added in +explanation of the Apache's escape. "Wonder what my wife'll say?" he +mused, nursing the swelling. + +The Orphan's eyes opened a trifle at the sheriff's last words, and he +thought of the war party he had sent north. His decision was immediate: +no married man had any business to run risks, and he was glad that he +refrained from shooting on sight. + +"Sheriff, you vamoose. Clear out now, while you have the chance. Ride west +for an hour, and then strike north for Ford's Station. That buck that got +away is due to run into twenty-seven of his friends and relatives that I +sent north to meet you. And they won't waste any time in getting back, +neither." + +Shields felt of his ear and laughed softly. He had a sudden, strong liking +for his humorous, clever enemy, for he recognized qualities which he had +always held in high esteem. While he had waited in the chaparral for the +Apaches to break cover he had wondered if the Indians which The Orphan +had sent north had been sent for the purpose of meeting him, and now +he had the answer. Instead of embittering him against his companion, it +increased his respect for that individual's strategy, and he felt only +admiration. + +"I saw your reception committee in time to duck," the sheriff said, +laughing. "If they kept on going as they were when I saw them they must +have crossed my trail about three hours later. When they hit that it +is a safe bet that at least some of them took it up. So if it's all the +same to you, I'll leave both the north and the west alone and take another +route home. I have shot up all the war-whoops I care about, so I am +well satisfied." + +He suddenly reached down toward his belt, and then looked squarely into +The Orphan's gun, which rested easily on that person's hip. His hand +kept on, however, but more slowly and with but two fingers extended, +and disappeared into his chap's pocket, from which it slowly and gingerly +brought forth a package of tobacco and some rice paper. The Orphan looked +embarrassed for a second and then laughed softly. + +"You're a square man, Sheriff, but I wasn't sure," he said in apology. +"So long." + +"That's all right," cried the sheriff heartily. "I was a big fool to make +a play like that!" + +The Orphan smiled and turned squarely around and walked away in the +direction of his horse. Shields stared at his back and then rolled a +cigarette and grinned: "By George!" he ejaculated at the confidence +displayed by his companion, and he slowly followed. + +After they had mounted in silence the sheriff suddenly turned and looked +his companion squarely in the eyes and received a steady, frank look in +return. + +"What the devil made you ventilate them sheep herders that way?" he asked. +"And go and drive all of them sheep over the bank?" + +The Orphan frowned momentarily, but answered without reserve. + +"Those sheep herders reckoned they'd get a reputation!" he answered. "And +they would have gotten it, too, only I beat them on the draw. As for the +idiotic muttons, they went plumb loco at the shooting and pushed each +other over the bank. To hell with the herders--they only got what they was +trying to hand me. But I'm a whole lot sorry about the sheep, although I +can't say I'm dead stuck on range-killers of any kind." + +The sheriff reflectively eyed his companion's gun and remembered its +celerity into getting into action, which persuaded him that The Orphan +was telling the truth, and swept aside the last chance for fair warfare +between the two for the day. + +"Yes, it is too bad, all them innocent sheep drowned that way," he slowly +replied. "But they are shore awful skittish at times. Well, do we part?" +he asked, suddenly holding out his hand. + +"I reckon we do, Sheriff, and I'm blamed glad to have met you," replied +the outlaw as he shook hands with no uncertain grip. "Keep away from them +Apaches, and so long." + +"Thanks, I will," responded the arm of the law. "And I'm glad to have met +you, too. So long!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE SECOND OFFENSE + + +Bill Howland emerged from the six-by-six office of the F. S. and S. Stage +Company and strolled down the street to where his Concord stood. He +hitched up and, after examining the harness, gained his seat, gathered up +the lines and yelled. There was a lurch and a rumble, and Bill turned +the corner on two wheels to the gratification of sundry stray dogs, +whose gratification turned to yelps of surprise and pain as the driver +neatly flecked bits of hair from their bodies with his sixteen foot +"blacksnake." Twice each week Bill drove his Concord around the same +corner on the same two wheels and flecked bits of hair from stray dogs +with the same whip. He would have been deeply grieved if the supply of new +stray dogs gave out, for no dogs were ever known to get close enough +to be skinned the second time; once was enough, and those which had felt +the sting of Bill's leather were content to stand across the street and +create the necessary excitement to urge the new arrivals forward. The +local wit is reported as saying: "Dogs may come and dogs may go, but Bill +goes on forever," which saying pleased Bill greatly. + +As he threw the mail bag on the seat the sheriff came up and watched him, +his eyes a-twinkle with humor. + +"Well, Sheriff, how's the boy?" genially asked Bill, who could talk all +day on anything and two days on nothing without fatigue. + +"All right, Bill, thank you," the sheriff replied. "I hope you are able +to take something more than liquid nourishment," he added. + +"Oh, you trust me for that, Sheriff. When my appetite gives out I'll be +ready to plant. I see your ear is some smaller. Blamed funny how they do +swell sometimes," remarked the driver, loosening his collar. + +The sheriff knew what that action meant and hurried to break the thread +of the conversation. + +"New wheel?" he asked, eying what he knew to be old. + +"Nope, painted, that's all," the driver replied, grinning. "But she +shore does look new, don't she? You see, Dick put in two new spokes +yesterday, and when I saw 'em I says, says I, 'Dick, that new wheel don't +look good thataway,' says I. 'It'll look like a limp, them new spokes +coming 'round all alone like,' says I. So we paints it, but we didn't +have time to paint the others, but they won't make much difference, +anyhow. Funny how a little paint will change things, now ain't it? Why, I +can remember when-----" + +"Much mail nowadays?" interposed the sheriff calmly. + +"Nope. Folks out here ain't a-helpin' Uncle Sam much. Postmaster says he +only sold ten stamps this week. What he wants, as I told him, is women. +Then everybody'll be sendin' letters and presents and things. Now, I knows +what I'm talking about, because-----" + +"The Apaches are out," jabbed the sheriff, hopefully. + +"Yes, I heard that you had a soiree with them. But they won't get so +far north as this. No, siree, they won't. They knows too much, Apaches +do. Ain't they smart cusses, though? Now, there's old Geronimo--been +raising the devil for years. The cavalry goes out for him regular, and +shore thinks he's caught, but he ain't. When he's found he's home smoking +his pipe and counting his wives, which are shore numerous, they say. Now, +I've got a bully scheme for getting him, Sheriff----" + +"Hey, you," came from the office. "Do you reckon that train is going to +tie up and wait for you, hey? Do you think you are so d----d important +that they won't pull out unless you're on hand? Why in h--l don't you quit +chinning and get started?" + +"Oh, you choke up!" cried Bill, clambering up to his seat. "Who's running +this, anyhow!" he grumbled under his breath. Then he took up the reins +and carefully sorted them, after which he looked down at Shields, whose +face wore a smile of amusement. + +"Bill Howland ain't none a-scared because a lot of calamity howlers get a +hunch. Not on your life! I've reached the high C of rollicking progress +too many times to be airy scairt at rumors. Show me the feather-dusters +in war paint, and then I'll take some stock in raids. You get up a bet +on me Sheriff, make a little easy money. Back Bill Howland to be right +here in seventy-two hours, right side up and smiling, and you'll win. You +just bet you'll----" + +"Well, you won't get here in a year unless you starts, you pest! For +God's sake get a-going and give the sheriff a rest!" came explosively +from the office, accompanied by a sound as if a chair had dropped to its +four legs. A tall, angular man stood in the doorway and shook his fist at +the huge cloud of dust which rolled down the street, muttering savagely. +Bill Howland had started on his eighty-mile trip to Sagetown. + +"Damnedest talker on two laigs," asserted the clerk. "He'll drive me loco +some day with his eternal jabber, jabber. Why do you waste time with +him? Tell him to close his yap and go to h--l. Beat him over the head, +anything to shut him up!" + +Shields smiled: "Oh, he can't help it. He don't do anybody any harm." + +The clerk shook his head in doubt and started to return to his chair, and +then stopped. + +"I hear you expect some women out purty soon," he suggested. + +"Yes. Sisters and a friend," Shields replied shortly. + +"Ain't you a little leary about letting 'em come out here while the +Apaches are out?" + +"Not very much--I'll be on hand when they arrive," the sheriff assured him. + +"How soon are they due to land?" + +"Next trip if nothing hinders them." + +"Jim Hawes is comin' out next trip," volunteered the clerk. + +"Good," responded the sheriff, turning to go. "Every gun counts, and Jim +is a good man." + +"Say," the agent was lonesome, "I heard down at the Oasis last night that +The Orphant was seen out near the Cross Bar-8 yesterday. He ought to get +shot, d----n him! But that's a purty big contract, I reckon. They say he +can shoot like the very devil." + +"They're right, he can," Shields replied. "Everybody knows that." + +"Charley seems to be in a hurry," remarked the agent, looking down the +street at a cowboy, a friend of the sheriff, who was coming at a dead +gallop. The sheriff looked and Charley waved his arm. As he came within +hailing distance he shouted: + +"The Orphan killed Jimmy Ford this morning on Twenty Mile Trail! His +pardner got away by shootin' The Orphan's horse and taking to the trail +through Little Arroyo. But he's shot, just the same, 'though not bad. The +rest of the Cross Bar-8 outfit are going out for him; they've been out, +but they can't follow his trail." + +"Hell!" cried the sheriff, running toward his corral. "Wait!" he shouted +over his shoulder as he turned the corner. In less than five minutes he +was back again, and on his best horse, and following the impatient cowboy, +swung down the street at a gallop in the direction of Twenty Mile Trail. + +As they left the town behind and swung through the arroyo leading to the +Limping Water, through which the stage route lay, Charley began to speak +again: + +"Jimmy and Pete Carson were taking a rest in the shade of the chaparral +and playin' old sledge, when they looked up and saw The Orphan looking +down at them. They're rather easy-going, and so they asked him to take a +hand. He said he would, and got off his cayuse and sat down with them. +Jimmy started a new deal, but The Orphan objected to old sledge and +wanted poker, at the same time throwing a bag of dust down in front of +him. Jimmy looked at Pete, who nodded, and put his wealth in front of +him. Well, they played along for a while, and The Orphan began to have +great luck. When he had won five straight jack pots it was more than +Jimmy could stand, him being young and hasty. He saw his new Cheyenne +saddle, what he was going to buy, getting further away all the time, and +he yelled 'Cheat!' grabbing for his gun, what was plumb crazy for him to +do. + +"The Orphan fired from his hip quick as a wink, and Jimmy fell back just +as Pete drew. The Orphan swung on him and ordered him to drop his gun, +which same Pete did, being sick at the stomach at Jimmy's passing. Then +The Orphan told him to take his dirty money and his cheap life and go back +to his mamma. Pete didn't stop none to argue, but mounted and rode away. +But the fool wasn't satisfied at having a whole skin after a run-in +with The Orphan, and when he got off about four hundred yards and right +on the edge of Little Arroyo, where he could get cover in one jump, +he up and let drive, killing The Orphan's horse. Pete got two holes in +his shoulder before he could get out of sight, and he remembered that +his shot had hardly left his gun before he had 'em, too. Pete says he +wonders how in h--l The Orphan could shoot twice so quick, when his +gun's a Sharp's single shot." + +Shields was pleased with the knowledge that it was not a plain murder +this time, and fell to wondering if the other killings in which The +Orphan had figured had not in a measure been justified. Hearsay cried +"Murderer," but his own personal experience denied the term. Did not +The Orphan know that Shields was after him, and that the sheriff was no +man to be taken lightly when he had shown mercy near the big bowlder? The +outlaw must be fair and square, reasoned the sheriff, else he would not +have looked for those qualities in another, and least of all in an +enemy. The outlaw had given him plenty of chances to kill and had thought +nothing of it, time and time again turning his back without hesitation. +True, The Orphan had covered him when his hand had streaked for his +tobacco; but the sheriff would have done the same, because the movement +was decidedly hostile, and he had been fortunate in not having paid +dearly for his rash action. The Orphan had taken a chance when he +refrained from pulling the trigger. + +Charley continued: "Jimmy's outfit swear they'll have a lynchin' bee to +square things for the Kid. They are plumb crazy about it. Jimmy was a +whole lot liked by them, and the foreman is going to give them a week +off with no questions asked. They are getting things ready now." + +The sheriff turned to his companion, his hazel eyes aflame with anger +at this threat of lynching when he had given plain warning that such +lawlessness would not for one minute be tolerated by him. + +"We'll call on the Cross Bar-8 first, Charley, and find out when this +lynching bee is due to come off," he said, turning toward the northwest. +Charley looked surprised at the sudden change in the plans, but followed +without comment, secretly glad that trouble was in store for the ranch he +had no use for. + +After an hour of fast riding they rode up to the corral of the Cross +Bar-8, and Shields, seeing a cowboy busily engaged in cleaning a rifle, +asked for Sneed, at the same time making a mental note of the preparations +which were going on about him. + +The foreman, as if in answer to the sheriff's words, walked into sight +around the corral wall and stepped forward eagerly when he saw who the +caller was. + +"I see that you know all about it, Sheriff," he began, hastily. "I've +just told the boys that they can go out for him," he continued. "They're +getting ready now, and will soon be on his trail." + +"Yes?" coldly inquired the sheriff. + +"They'll get him if you don't," assured the foreman, who had about as much +tact as a mule. + +"I'll shoot the first man who tries it," the sheriff said, as he flecked +a bit of dust from his arm. + +"What!" cried Sneed in astonishment. "By God, Sheriff, that's a d----d +hard assertion to make!" + +"And I hold _you_ responsible," continued the sheriff, leaning forward +as if to give weight to his words. + +The cowboy stopped cleaning his rifle and stood up, covering the sheriff, +a sneer on his face and anger in his eyes. + +"If you're a-scared, we ain't, by God!" he cried. "The Orphan has got +away too many times already, and here is where he gets stopped for good! +When we gets through with him he won't shoot no more friends of ourn, +nor nobody else's!" + +Shields looked him squarely in the eyes: "If you don't drop that gun I'll +drop you, Bucknell," he said pleasantly, and his eyes proclaimed that he +meant what he said. + +Sneed sprang forward and knocked the gun aside; "You d----n fool!" he +cried. "You ornery, silly fool! Get back to the bunk house or I'll make +you wish you had never seen that gun! Go on, get the h--l out of here +before you join Jimmy!" + +Then the foreman turned to Shields, feeling that he had lost much through +the rashness of his man. + +"Don't pay any attention to that crazy yearling, Sheriff," he said +earnestly. "He's only feeling his oats. But we only wanted to round him +up," he continued on the main topic. "We meant to turn him over to you +after we'd got him. He's a blasted, thieving, murdering dog, that's what +he is, and he oughtn't get away this time!" + +"You keep out of this, and keep your men out of it, too," responded +Shields, turning away. "I mean what I say. Jimmy started the mess and +got the worst of it. I'll get The Orphan, or nobody will. As long as I'm +sheriff of this county I'll take care of my job without any lynching +parties. Come on, Charley." + +"Deputize some of my boys, Sheriff!" he begged. "Let 'em think they're +doing something. The Orphan is a bad man to go after alone. The boys are +so mad that they'll get him if they have to ride through hell after him. +Swear them in and let them get him lawfully." + +"Yes?" retorted Shields cynically. "And have to shoot them to keep them +from shooting him?" + +"By God, Sheriff," cried Sneed, losing control of his temper, "this is +our fight, and we're going to see it through! We'll get that cur, sheriff +or no sheriff, and when we do, he'll stretch rope! And anybody who tries +to stop us will get hurt! I ain't making any threats, Sheriff; only +telling plain facts, that's all." + +"Then I'll be a wreck," responded Shields, still smiling. "For I'll stop +it, even if I have to shoot you first, which are also plain facts." + +Sneed's men had been coming up while they talked and were freely voicing +their opinions of sheriffs. Sneed stepped close to the peace officer and +laughed, his face flushed with foolish elation at his strength. + +"Do you see 'em?" he asked, ironically, indicating his men by a sweep of +his arm. "Do you think you could shoot me?" + +The reply was instantaneous. The last word had hardly left his lips before +he peered blankly into the cold, unreasoning muzzle of a Colt, and the +sheriff's voice softly laughed up above him. The cowboys stood as if +turned to stone, not daring to risk their foreman's life by a move, for +they did not understand the sheriff's methods of arguments, never having +become thoroughly acquainted with him. + +"You know me better now, Sneed," Shields remarked quietly as he slipped +his Colt into its holster. "I'm running the law end of the game and I'll +keep right on running it as I d----d please while I'm called sheriff, +understand?" + +Sneed was a brave man, and he thoroughly appreciated the clean-cut +courage which had directed the sheriff's act, and he knew, then, that +Shields would keep his word. He involuntarily stepped back and intently +regarded the face above him, seeing a not unpleasant countenance, although +it was tanned by the suns and beaten by the weather of fifty years. The +hazel eyes twinkled and the thin lips twitched in that quiet humor for +which the man was famed; yet underlying the humor was stern, unyielding +determination. + +"You're shore nervy, Sheriff," at length remarked the foreman. "The boys +are loco, but I'll try to hold them." + +"You'll hold them, or bury them," responded the sheriff, and turning to +his companion he said: "Now I'm with you, Charley. So long, Sneed," he +pleasantly called over his shoulder as if there had been no unpleasant +disagreement. + +"So long, Sheriff," replied the foreman, looking after the departing pair +and hardly free from his astonishment. Then he turned to his men: "You +heard what he said, and you saw what he did. You keep out of this, or +I'll make you d----d sorry, if he don't. If The Orphan comes your way, +all right and good. But you let his trail religiously alone, do you hear?" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +BILL JUSTIFIES HIS CREATION + + +Bill Howland careened along the stage route, rapidly leaving Ford's +Station in his rear. He rolled through the arroyo on alternate pairs of +wheels, splashed through the Limping Water, leaving it roiled and +muddy, and shot up the opposite bank with a rush. Before him was a +stretch of a dozen miles, level as a billiard table, and then the +route traversed a country rocky and uneven and wound through cuts and +defiles and around rocky buttes of strange formation. This continued +for ten miles, and the last defile cut through a ridge of rock, called +the Backbone, which ranged in height from twenty to forty feet, smooth, +unbroken and perpendicular on its eastern face. This ridge wound and +twisted from the big chaparral twenty miles below the defile to a branch +of the Limping Water, fifteen miles above. And in all the thirty-five +miles there was but a single opening, the one used by Bill and the stage. + +In crossing the level plain Bill could see for miles to either side of +him, but when once in the rough country his view was restricted to yards, +and more often to feet. It was here that he expected trouble if at all, +and he usually went through it with a speed which was reckless, to say +the least. + +He had just dismissed the possibility of meeting with Apaches as he +turned into the last long defile, which he was pleased to call a canyon. As +he made the first turn he nearly fell from his seat in astonishment at +what he saw. Squarely in the center of the trail ahead of him was a +horseman, who rode the horse which had formerly belonged to Jimmy of +the Cross Bar-8, and across the cut lay a heavy piece of timber, one +of the dead trees which were found occasionally at that altitude, and +it effectively barred the passing of the stage. The horseman wore his +sombrero far back on his head and a rifle lay across his saddle, while +two repeating Winchesters were slung on either side of his horse. One +startled look revealed the worst to the driver--The Orphan, the terrible +Orphan faced him! + +"Don't choke--I'm not going to eat you," assured the horseman with a +smile. "But I'm going to smoke half of your tobacco--and you can bring me +a half pound when you come back from Sagetown. Just throw it up yonder," +pointing to a rocky ledge, "and keep going right ahead." + +Bill looked very much relieved, and hastily fumbled in his hip pocket, +which was a most suicidal thing to do in a hurry; but The Orphan didn't +even move at the play, having judged the man before him and having faith +in his judgment. The hand came out again with a pouch of tobacco, which +its owner flung to the outlaw. After putting half of it in his own pouch +and enclosing a coin to pay for his half pound, The Orphan tossed it +back again and then moved the tree trunk until it fell to the road, when +he dismounted and rolled it aside. + +"You forget right now that you have seen me or you'll have heart disease +some day in this place," warned the horseman, moving aside. Bill swore +earnestly that at times his memory was too short to even remember his own +name, and he enthusiastically lashed his cayuse sextet. As he swung out +on the plain again he glanced furtively over his shoulder and breathed a +deep breath of relief when he found that the outlaw was not in sight. +He then tied a knot in his handkerchief so as to be sure to remember to +get a half-pound package of tobacco. A new responsibility, and one which +he had never borne before, weighed upon him. He must keep silent--and what +a rich subject for endless conversations! Talking material which would +last him for years must be sealed tightly within his memory on penalty +of death if he failed to keep it secret. + +After an uneventful trip across the open plain, which passed so rapidly +because of his intent thoughts that he hardly realized it, he ripped +into Sagetown with a burst of speed and flung the mail bag at the station +agent, after which he hastened to float the dust down his throat. + +When he met his Sagetown friends he had fairly to choke down his secret, +and his aching desire to create a sensation pained and worried him. + +"You made her faster than usual, Bill," remarked the bartender casually. +"Yore half-an-hour ahead of time," he added in a congratulatory tone as +he placed a bottle and glass before the new arrival. + +"Yes, and I had to stop, too," Bill replied, and then hastily gulped down +his liquor to save himself. + +"That so?" asked old Pop Westley, an habitue of the saloon. Pop Westley +had fought through the Civil War and never forgot to tell of his +experiences, which must have been unusually numerous, even for four years +of hard campaigning, if one may judge from the fact that he never had to +repeat, and yet used them as his _coup d'etat_ in many conversational +bouts. "What was it, Injuns?" he asked, winking at the bartender as if +in prophecy as to what the driver would choose for his next lie. + +"Oh, no," replied Bill, groping for an idea to get him out of trouble. +"Nope, just had to lose twenty minutes rollin' rocks out of the +canyon--they must have been a little landslide since I went through her +the last time. Some of 'em was purty big, too." + +"I thought you might a had to kill some Injuns, like you did when they +broke out four years ago," responded the bartender gravely. "Tell us about +that time you licked them dozen mad Apache warriors, Bill," he requested. +"That was a blamed good scrap from what I can remember." + +"Oh, I've told you about that scrap so much I'm ashamed to tell it again," +replied the driver, wishing that he could remember just what he had said +about it, and sorry that his memory was so inferior to his imagination. + +"Bet you get scalped goin' back," pleasantly remarked Johnny Sands, who +had not fought in the Civil War, but who often ferociously wished he had +when old Pop Westley was telling of how Mead took Vicksburg, or some other +such bit of history. Pop must have been connected to a flying regiment, +for he had fought under every general on the Union side. + +"You're on for the drinks, Johnny," answered Bill promptly, feeling that +it would be a double joy to win. "The war-whoops never lived who could +scalp Bill Howland, and don't forget it, neither," he boastfully averred +as he made for the door, very anxious to get away from that awful gnawing +temptation to open their eyes wide about his recent experience. + +"Then The Orphan will get you, shore," came from Pop Westley. Bill jumped +and slammed the door so hard that it shook the building. + +He saw that his sextet was being properly fed and watered for the return +trip, which would not take place until the next day. But a trifle like +twenty-four hours had no effect on Bill under his present stress of +excitement, and he fooled about the coach as if it was his dearest +possession, inspecting the king-bolt, running-gear and whiffletrees with +anxious eyes. He wanted no break-down, because the Apaches _might_ be +farther north than was their custom. That done he took his rifle apart +and thoroughly cleaned and oiled it, seeing that the magazine was full +to the end. Then he had his supper and went straight therefrom to bed, +not daring to again meet his friends for fear of breaking his promise +to The Orphan. + +At dawn he drew up beside the small station and waited for the arrival of +the train, which even then was a speck at the meeting place of the rails +on the horizon. + +The station agent sauntered over to him and grinned. + +"I guess I will get that telegraph line after all, Bill," he remarked +happily. "I heard that the division superintendent wanted to get word +to me in a hurry the other day, and raised the devil when he couldn't. +I've been fighting for a wire to civilization for three years, and now I +reckon she'll come." + +"I always said you ought to have a telegraph line out here," Bill replied. +"Suppose that train should run off the track some day, what would they +do, hey?" + +"Huh, that train never goes fast enough to run off of anything," retorted +the station agent. "She'd stop dead if she hit a coyote--by gosh! Here +she comes now! What do you think of that, eh? Half-an-hour ahead of time, +too! Must be trying to hit up a better average than she's had for the +last year. She's usually due three hours late," he added in bewilderment. +"She owes the world about a month--must have left the day before by +mistake." + +"Johnny Sands says he raced her once for ten miles, and beat it a mile," +replied Bill, crossing his legs and yawning. Then he began one of his +endless talks, and the agent hastily departed and left him to himself. + +When the train finally stopped at its destination, after running past +the station and having to back to the platform, three women alighted and +looked around. Seeing the stage, they ordered their baggage transferred to +it and gave Bill a shock by their appearance. + +"Is this the stage which runs to Ford's Station?" the eldest asked of Bill. + +Bill fumbled at his sombrero and tore it from his head as he replied. + +"Yes, sir, er--ma'am!" he said, confusedly. "Are you Sheriff's sister, +ma'am?" + +"Yes," she answered. "Why do you ask? Has anything happened to him in this +awful country?" she asked in alarm. + +"No, ma'am, not yet," responded Bill in confusion. "He just didn't expect +you 'til the next train, ma'am, that's all. He was going to meet you then." + +"Now, _isn't_ that just like a man?" she asked her companions. "I +distinctly remember that I wrote him I would come on the twenty-fourth. +How stupid of him!" + +"Yes, ma'am, you did," interposed Bill, eagerly. "But this is only the +twenty-first, ma'am." + +She refused to notice the correction and waved her hand toward the coach. + +"Get in, dears," she said. "I _do_ so hope it isn't dirty and +uncomfortable, and we have so far to go in it, too. Thirty miles--think +of it!" + +Bill thought of it, but refrained from offering correction. If Shields +had said it was thirty miles when he knew it was eighty that was Shields' +affair, and he didn't care to have any unpleasantness. He had offered +correction about the date, and that was enough for him. Clambering down +heavily he opened the side door of the vehicle and then helped the +station agent put the trunks and valises and hat boxes on the hanging +shelf behind the coach and saw that they were lashed securely into +place. Then he threw the mail bag upon his seat, climbed after it and +started on his journey with a whoop and rush, for this trip was to be a +record-breaker. Shields had said it was thirty miles, and it behove +the driver to make it seem as short as possible. + +The unexpected arrival of the women had driven everything else from +his mind, even The Orphan, and after he had covered a mile he had a +strong desire to smoke. Giving his whip a jerk he threw it along the top +of the coach and slipped the handle under his arm. Then he felt for +his pouch, and as his fingers closed upon it he suddenly stiffened and +gasped. He had forgotten The Orphan's half pound! Swearing earnestly +and badly frightened at the close call he had from incurring the anger of +a man like the outlaw, he pulled on the reins with a suddenness which +caused the sextet to lay back their ears and indulge in a few heartfelt +kicks. But the darting whip kept peace and he swung around and returned +to town. + +As he drove past the station Mary Shields, the sheriff's elder sister, +poked her head out of the door and called to him. + +"Driver!" she exclaimed. "Driver!" + +Bill craned his neck and looked down. + +"Yes, ma'am," he replied anxiously. + +"Are we there already?" she asked. + +"Why, no, ma'am, it's ei--thirty miles yet," he responded as he sprang +to the ground. + +"Then where are we, for goodness' sake?" + +"Back in Sagetown, ma'am," he hurriedly replied. "I shore forgot +something," he added in explanation of the return as he ran toward +the saloon. + +She turned to her companions with a gesture of despair: + +"Isn't it awful," she asked, "what a terrible thing drinking is? A most +detestable habit! Here we are back to where we started from and just +because our driver must have a drink of nasty liquor! Why, we would have +been there by this time. I will most assuredly speak to James about this!" + +"Well, I suppose we may go on now!" she exclaimed as Bill bolted into +sight again, holding a package firmly in his two hands. "I suppose he +feels quite capable of driving now." + +Bill, blissfully ignorant of the remarks he had called forth, tossed +the tobacco upon the mail bag and climbed to his seat again. The long +whip hissed and cracked as he bellowed to the team, and once more they +started for Ford's Station. + +The passengers had all they could do to keep their seats because of the +gymnastics of the erratic stage. Bill, who had always found delight in +seeing how near he could come to missing things and who was elated at +the joy of getting over the worst parts of the trail with speed, decided +that this was a rare and most auspicious occasion to show just what he +could do in the way of fancy driving. The return to town had spoiled +his chances for a record, but he still could do some high-class work +with the reins. The weight of the baggage on the tail-board bothered +him until he discovered that it acted as a tail to his Concord kite, +and when he learned that he joyously essayed feats which he had long +dreamed of doing. The result was fully appreciated by the terrified +passengers who, choking with the dust which forced its way in to them, +could only hold fast to whatever came to their grasp and pray that they +would survive. + +As he passed a peculiarly formed clump of organ cacti, which he regarded +as being his half-way mark, he happened to glance behind, and his face +blanched in a sudden fear which gripped his heart in an icy grasp. + +He leaped to his feet, wrapping the reins about his wrists, and the +"blacksnake" coiled and writhed and hissed. Its reports sounded like +those of a gun, and every time it straightened out a horse lost a bit of +hair and skin. Both of the leaders had limp and torn ears, and a sudden +terror surged through the team, causing their eyes to dilate and grow +red. The driver's voice, strong and full, rang out in blood-curdling +whoops, which ended in the wailing howl of a coyote, wonderfully well +imitated. The combination of voice and whip was too much, and the six +horses, maddened by the terrible sting of the lash and the frightful, +haunting howl, became frenzied and bolted. + +Braced firmly on the footboard, poised carefully and with just the right +tension on the reins, the driver scanned the trail before him, avoiding +as best he could the rocks and deep ruts, and watching alertly for a +stumble. His sombrero had deserted him and his long brown hair snapped +behind him in the wind. Bill was frightened, but not for himself alone. +With all his bravado he was built of good timber, and his one thought was +for the women under his care. He unconsciously prayed that they might not +be brought face to face with the realization of what menaced them; that +they would not learn why the coach lurched so terribly; that the trunk +which obstructed the back window of the coach would not shift and give +them a sight of the danger. Oh, that the running gear held! That the +king-bolt, new, thank God, proved the words of the boasting blacksmith +to be true! He soon came to the beginning of a three-hundred-yard stretch +of perfect road and he hazarded a quick backward glance. Instantly his +eyes were to the front again, but his brain retained the picture he had +seen, retained it perfectly and in wonderful clearness. He saw that the +Apaches were no longer a mile away, but that they had gained upon him +a very little, so very little that only an eye accustomed to gauging +changing distances could have noticed the difference. And he also saw +that the group was no longer compact, but that it was already spreading +out into the dreaded, deadly crescent, a crescent with the best horses at +the horns, which would endeavor to sweep forward and past the coach, +drawing closer together until the circle was complete, with the stage +as the center. + +Another yell burst from him, and again and again the whip writhed and +hissed and cracked, and a new burst of speed was the reward. Well it +was that the horses were the best and most enduring to be found on the +range. He was dependent on his team, he and his passengers. He could not +hope to take up his rifle until the last desperate stand. Oh, if he only +had the sheriff, the cool, laughing, accurate sheriff with him to lie +against the seat and shoot for his sisters! Already the bullets were +dropping behind him, but he did not know of it. They dropped, as yet, +many yards too short, and he could not hear the flat reports. The wind +which roared and whistled past his ears spared him that. + +A stumble! But up again and without injury, for a master hand held the +reins, a hand as cunning as the eyes were calculating. Could Bill's +scoffing friends see him now their scoffing would freeze on lips open in +admiring astonishment. If he attained nothing more in his life he was +justifying his creation. He was doing his best, and doing it wonderfully +well. Long since had fear left him. He was now only a superb driver, +an alert, quick-thinking master of his chosen trade. He thrilled with +a peculiar elation, for was he not playing his hand against death? A +lone hand and with no hope of a lucky draw. All he could hope for was that +he be not unlucky and lose the game because of the weakness of a wheel, +or the traces, or that new king-bolt; that the splendid, ugly, terrorized +units of his sextet would last until he had gained the canyon, where +the stage would nearly block the narrow opening, and where he could +exchange reins for rifle! + +Within the coach three women were miserably huddled in a mass on the +floor. Two would be more proper, because the third, a slim girl of +nineteen, was temporarily out of her misery, having fainted, which was a +boon denied to her companions. Thrown from side to side as if they were +straws in weight, they first crashed into one wall and then into the +other, buffeted from the edge of the front seat to that of the rear one. +Bruised and bleeding and terrified, they dumbly prayed for deliverance +from the madman up above them. + +The driver's eye caught sight of the turn, which lay ten miles northeast +of the canyon--then he had passed it. + +"Only ten miles more, bronchs!" he shouted, imploringly, beseechingly. +"Hold it, boys! Hold it, pets! Only ten miles more!" he repeated until +the left-hand leader lurched forward and lost its footing. Another bit +of masterly manipulation of the reins saved it from going down, and again +the coyote yell rang out in all of its acute, quavering, hair-raising +mournfulness. The blacksnake again and again mercilessly leaped and +struck, and another wonderful burst of speed rewarded him. + +His heart suddenly went out to his horses, as he realized what speed they +were making and had been holding for so long a time, and he swore to treat +them better than they had ever known if they pulled him safely to the +mouth of the canyon. + +A second backward glance, forced from him because of the awful uncertainty +at his back, because if it was the last thing he ever did he must look +behind him as a child looks back into the awful darkness of the room, +caused his face to be convulsed with smiles, sudden and sincere. He +shouted madly in his joy at what he saw, dancing up and down regardless +of his perilous footing, bending his knees with a recklessness almost +criminal, as he uncoiled the hissing blacksnake high up in the air. +Again and again the whistling, hissing length of braided rawhide curled +and straightened and cracked, faster and faster until the reports +almost merged. He tossed his head and laughed wildly, hysterically, +and danced as only a man can dance when eased of a terrible nervous +tension; the rasping of the icy, grasping fingers of Death along his +back suddenly ceased, and there came to him assurance of life and +vengeance. Turning again he hurled the writhing length of his whip at +the yelling Apaches, snapping the rifle-like reports at their faces, +cursing them in shouted words; hot, joyous, cynical, taunting words +fresh from the soul of him, throbbing with his hatred; venomous, +contemptuous, scathing, too heartfelt to be over-profane. + +"Come _on_, d----n you! Your slide to h--l is greased _now!_ Come on, +you wolves! You cheap, blind vultures! Come on! _Come on!!_" he yelled, +well nigh out of his senses from the reaction. "Yes, yell! Yell, d----n +you!" he shouted as they replied to his taunts. "Yell! Shoot your tin guns +while you can, for you'll soon be so full of lead you'll stop forever! +_Come on!_ COME ON!" + +They came. All their energies were bent toward the grotesque figure that +reviled them. They could not catch his words, but their eyes flashed at +what they could see. Dust arose in huge, low clouds behind them, and they +gained rapidly for a time, but only for a time, for their mounts had +covered many miles in the last few days and were jaded and without their +usual strength because of insufficient food. But they gained enough to +drop their shots on the coach, although accurate shooting at the pace they +were keeping was beyond their skill. + +Puffs of dust spurted from the plain in front of the team and arose +beside it, and a jagged splinter of seasoned ash whizzed past the driver's +ear. A long, gray furrow suddenly appeared in the end of the seat and +holes began to show in the woodwork of the stage. One bullet, closer than +the others, almost tore the reins from the driver's hands as it hit the +loose end of leather which flapped in the air. Its jerk caused him to +turn again and renew his verbal cautery, tears in his eyes from the +fervor of his madness. + +"Hi-yi! Whoop-e-e!" he shouted at his straining, steaming sextet. "Keep it +up, bronchs! Hold her for ten minutes more, boys! We'll win! We'll win! +We'll laugh them into h--l yet! We'll dance on their painted faces! Keep +her steady! You're all right, every d----d one of you! Hold her steady! +Whoop-e-e!" + +A new factor had drawn cards, and the new factor could play his cards +better than any two men under that washed-out, faded blue sky. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE ORPHAN OBEYS AN IMPULSE + + +When Sneed promised to try to restrain his men he spoke in good faith, +and when he discovered that half of them were missing his anger began to +rise. But he was helpless now because they were beyond his reach, so he +could only hope that they would not meet the sheriff, not only because +of the displeasure of the peace officer, but also because good cowboys +were hard to obtain, and he knew what such a meeting might easily develop +into. + +The foreman knew that Ford's Station bore him and his ranch no love and +that if the sheriff should meet with armed resistance and, possibly, +mishap at the hands of any members of the Cross Bar-8, that trouble would +be the tune for him and his men to dance to. Angrily striding to and +fro in front of the bunk house he gave a profane and pointed lecture +to several of his men who stood near, abashed at their foreman's anger. He +suddenly stopped and looked toward the rocky stretch of land and hurled +epithets at what he feared might be taking place in its defiles and among +its rocks and bowlders. + +"Fools!" he shouted, shaking his fist at the Backbone. "Fools, to hunt +a man like that on his own ground, and in the way you'll do it! You can't +keep together for long, and as sure as you separate, some of you will be +missing to-night!" + +Had he been able, he would have seen six cowboys, who were keeping close +together as they worked their way southward, exploring every arroyo and +examining every thicket and bowlder. Their Colts were in their hands and +their nerves were tensed to the snapping point. + +They finally came to the stage road and, after a brief consultation, +plunged into it and scrambled up the opposite bank, where they left one of +their number on guard while they continued on their search. The guard +found concealment behind a huge bowlder which stood on the edge of the +canyon above the entrance. He lighted a cigarette, and the thin wisps of +pale blue smoke slowly made their way above him, twisting and turning, +halting for an instant, and then speeding upward as straight as a rod. +It was strong tobacco and very aromatic, and when the wind caught it up in +filmy clouds and carried it away it could be detected for many feet. + +Five minutes had passed since the searchers had become lost to sight +to the south when something moved on the other side of the canyon and +then became instantly quiet as the smoke streamed up. The guard was +cleverly hidden from sight, but he felt that he must smoke, for time +passed slowly for him. Again something moved, this time behind a thin +clump of mesquite. Gradually it took on the outlines of a man, and he was +intently watching the tell-tale vapor, the odor of which had warned him +in time. + +Retreating, he was soon lost to sight, and a few minutes later he peered +through a thin thicket which stood on the edge of the canyon wall. As +he did so the guard stuck his head out from the shelter of his bowlder +and glanced along the trail. Again seeking his cover he finished his +cigarette and lighted another. + +"He won't look again for a few minutes, the fool," muttered the other +as he dropped into the road and darted across it. After a bit of cautious +climbing he gained the top of the canyon wall and again became lost to +sight. + +Still the smoke ascended fitfully from behind the bowlder, and the +prowler gradually drew near it, at last gaining the side opposite the +smoker. He crouched and slowly crawled around it, his left hand holding +a Colt; his right, a lariat. As the guard again turned to examine the +lower end of the canyon his eyes looked into a steady gun, and while +his wits were rallying to his aid the rope leaped at him and neatly +dropped over his shoulders, pinning his arms to his side. It twitched and +a loop formed in it, running swiftly and almost horizontally. It whipped +over his head and tightened about his throat, while another loop sped +after it and assisted in throttling the puncher. Then the lariat twitched +and whirled and loops ran along it and fastened over the guard's wrists, +rapidly getting shorter; and when it ceased, its wielder was brought to +the side of his trussed victim. The bound man was turning purple in +the face and neck and his captor, hastily crowding the guard's own +neck-kerchief into the open, gasping mouth, released the throat clutch +of the rawhide and then securely fixed the gag into place. + +Roughly dragging his captive to a mass of debris he tore it apart and +dragged and pushed the man into it, after which he pushed the rubbish +back into place and then ran to the bowlder, where he covered all tracks. +Picking up the puncher's revolver he took the cylinder from it and hurled +it far out on the plain, throwing the frame across the defile into a +tangled mass of mesquite. Looking carefully about him, to be sure he had +not overlooked anything, he disappeared in the direction from which he had +come. + +He again appeared in the canyon, and ran swiftly along it until he came to +the tracks made by the guard's horse, which he followed into an arroyo +and where he found the animal hobbled. Loosening the hobbles he threw +them over the horse's neck and sprang into the saddle. He picked his +way carefully until he had reached the level plain, when he cantered +northward, keeping close to the rock wall of the Backbone to avoid +being seen by the searchers. When he had put a dozen miles behind him he +turned abruptly to the east, soon becoming lost to sight behind the +scattered chaparrals. + +The Orphan, surmounting a rise, looked to the southwest and saw something +which almost caused his hair to rise, and raising hair was not the +rule with him, which latter is mentioned to give proper emphasis to the +seriousness of what he looked upon. He leaped to the ground and saw that +the cinches were securely fastened, after which he vaulted back into the +saddle, and, instead of offering prayer for success, sent up profanity +at the possibility of failure. + +Two miles to the southwest of him he saw six horses flattened almost to +earth in keeping the speed they had attained and were holding. Back of +them lurched and rocked and heaved the sun-bleached coach, dull gray +and dusty, its tall driver standing up to his work, hatless and with +his arm rapidly rising and falling as he sent the cruel whip cruelly +home. Behind the stage whipped the baggage flap, a huge leathern apron +for the protection of luggage, standing out horizontally because of the +rush of wind caused by the speed of the coach. It flapped defiantly at +what so tenaciously pursued it. A thousand yards to the rear, riding +in crescent formation, the horns now far apart and well ahead of the +center, were five arm- and weapon-waving bronzed enthusiasts whose war +paint could just be discerned by The Orphan's good eyes and field glasses. + +As yet, the reason for the lifting hair has not been disclosed, because +The Orphan was proud in his belief that he had few nerves and a dormant +sympathy, and this scene alone would not have aroused much sympathy +in his heart for the driver, and neither would it have changed the +malevolent expression which disfigured his face, an expression caused +by the remembrance of six cowboys who had searched for him as if he was a +cowardly, cattle-killing coyote. But the exuberant baggage-flap revealed +two trunks, three valises and a pile of white cardboard boxes; and as if +this was not enough for a man adept at sign reading, the door of the +coach suddenly became unfastened and alternately swung open and shut as +the lurching of the coach affected it. And through the intermittent +opening he could see a mass of gray and brown and blue. + +The Orphan had spent ten years of his life battling against the hardest +kinds of odds, and his brain had foresworn long methods of thinking +and had adopted short cuts to conclusions. His mental processes were +sharp, quick and acted instantly on his nerves, often completing an action +before he became clearly conscious of its need. He forgot the pleasant +sheriff and the unpleasant, blundering cowboys who, very probably, were +now engaged in wondering where their companion had gone; and he forgot +his determination to return and free that puncher. He asked himself no +questions as to why or how, but simply sunk his spurs half an inch into a +horse that had peculiar and fixed ideas about their use, and that now +bucked, pitched and galloped forward because its rider had suddenly +decided to save those gray and brown and blue dresses. + +The Apaches had passed the point immediately south of him and were now +more to the west, going at right angles to the course he took. They +were so intent upon gaining yard upon yard that they did not look to +the side--their thoughts were centered on the tall, lanky man who stood +up against the sky and cursed them, and whose hat they had passed miles +back. As he turned and stole the look at them which had so pleased him, +they only waved guns and wasted cartridges more recklessly, yelling +savagely. + +Down from the north charged a brown, a dirty brown horse, and it was +comparatively fresh. It gained steadily, silently, and its gains were +measured in yards to each minute it ran, since it was coming at a sharp +angle. Astride of it and lying along its neck was a man whose spurs and +quirt urged it to its uttermost effort. Soon the man straightened up in +his saddle, the horse braced its legs and slid to a stand as a rifle +arose to the rider's shoulder, and at the shot the animal leaped forward +at its top speed. A puff of smoke flashed past the marksman's head to +mingle with the dust cloud in his wake, and the nearest brave, who was +the last in the crescent, dropped sprawlingly to the ground and rolled +rapidly several times. His horse, freed of its burden, ran off at an +angle and was soon left behind. The excitement of the chase and the noise +of the hoofbeats of their own horses and of the reports of their own +rifles effectually lost the report of the shot and soon another, and +nearest, Apache also plunged to the plain. This time the freed horse shot +ahead and ranged alongside the wearer of the head-dress, who turned in +his saddle and looked back. His eyesight was good, but not good enough +to see the .50 caliber slug which passed through his abdomen and tore the +ear of another warrior's horse. + +The rider of the horse owning the mutilated ear looked quickly backward, +screamed a warning and war-cry all in one and began to shoot rapidly. +His surprised companion followed suit as the coach came to a stand, and +another rifle, long silent, took a hand in the dispute with a vim as if +to make up for lost time. The first warrior fell, shot through by both +rifles, and the other, emptying his magazine at the new factor, who was +very busily engaged in extracting a jammed cartridge, wheeled his pony +about and fled toward the south, panic-stricken by the accuracy of the +newcomer and terrorized by the awful execution. But the Apache's last +shot nearly cleaned the sheriff's slate, grazing The Orphan's temple and +stunning him: a fraction of an inch more to the right would have cheated +the Cross Bar-8 of any chance of revenge. + +Bill, still holding the rifle, leaped to the sand and ran to where his +rescuer lay huddled in the dust of the plain. + +"I've got yore smoking," he exclaimed breathlessly, at last getting rid +of his mental burden. Then he stopped short, swore, and bent over the +figure, and grasping the body firmly by neck and thigh, slung it over +his shoulders and staggered toward the coach, his progress slow and +laborious because of the deep sand and dust. As he neared his objective +he glanced up and saw that his passengers had left the stage and were +grouped together on the plain like lambs lost in a lion country. + +They were hysterical, and all talked at once, sobbing and wringing their +hands. But when they noticed the driver stumbling toward them with the +body across his shoulders their tongues became suddenly mute with a new +fear. Up to then they had thought only of their own woes and bruises, but +here, perhaps, was Death; here was the man who had risked his life that +they might live, and he might have lost as they gained. + +They besieged Bill with tearful questions and gave him no chance to +reply. He staggered past them and placed his burden in the scant shadow +of the coach, while they cried aloud at sight of the blood-stained +face, frozen in their tracks with fear and horror. Bill, ignoring them, +hastily climbed with a wonderful celerity for him, to the high seat +and dropped to the ground with a canteen which he had torn from its +fastenings. Pouring its contents over the upturned face he half emptied a +pocket flask of whisky into The Orphan's mouth and then fell to chafing +and rubbing with his calloused, dust-covered hands, well knowing the +nature of the wound and that it had only stunned. + +Soon the eyelids quivered, fluttered and then flew back and the cruel eyes +stared unblinkingly into those of the man above him, who swore in sudden +joy. Then, weak as he was and only by the aid of an indomitable will, the +wounded man bounded to his feet and stood swaying slightly as one hand +reached out to the stage for support, the other instinctively leaping to +his Colt. He swayed still more as he slowly turned his head and searched +the plain for foes, the Colt half drawn from its holster. + +As soon as he had gained his feet and while he was looking about him in +a dazed way the women began to talk again, excitedly, hysterically. They +gathered around this unshaven, blood-stained man and tried to thank him +for their lives, their voices broken with sobs. He listened, vaguely +conscious of what they were trying to say, until his brain cleared and +made him capable of thought. Then he ceased to sway and spread his feet +far apart to stand erect. His hand went to his head for the sombrero +which was not there, and he smiled as he recalled how he had lost it. + +"Oh, how can we ever thank you!" cried the sheriff's eldest sister, +choking back a nervous sob. "How can we ever thank you for what you have +done! You saved our lives!" she cried, shuddering at the danger now +past. "You saved our lives! You saved our lives!" she repeated excitedly, +clasping and unclasping her hands in her agitation. + +"How can we ever thank you, how can we!" cried the girl who had fainted +when the chase had begun. "It was splendid, splendid!" she cried, swaying +in her weakness. She was so white and bruised and frail that The Orphan +felt pity for her and started to say something, but had no chance. The +three women monopolized the conversation even to the exclusion of Bill, +who suddenly felt that his talking ability was only commonplace after all. + +Blood trickled slowly down the outlaw's face as he smiled at them and +tried to calm them, and the younger sister, suddenly realizing the meaning +of what she had vaguely seen, turned to Bill with an imperative gesture. + +"Bring me some water, driver, immediately," she commanded impatiently, +and Bill hurried around to the rear axle from which swung a small keg of +three gallons' capacity. Quickly unsnapping the chain from it he returned +and pried out the wooden plug, slowly turning the keg until water began +to flow through the hole and trickle down to the sand. Miss Shields took a +small handkerchief from her waist and unfolded it, to be stopped by Bill. + +"Don't spoil that, miss!" he hastily exclaimed. "Take one of mine. They +ain't worth much, and besides, they're a whole lot bigger." + +"Thank you, but this is better," she replied, smiling as she regarded +the dusty neck-kerchief which he eagerly held out to her. She wet the +bit of clean linen and Bill followed her as she stepped to the side of +the outlaw, holding the keg for her and thinking that the sheriff was +not the only thoroughbred to bear the name of Shields. He turned the +keg for her as she needed water, and she bathed the wound carefully, +pushing back the long hair which persisted in getting in her way, all +the time vehemently declining the eager offers of assistance from her +companions. The Orphan had involuntarily raised his hand to stop her, +feeling foolish at so much attention given to so trivial a wound and not +at all accustomed to such things, especially from women with wonderful +deep, black eyes. + +"Please do not bother me," she commanded, pushing his hand aside. "You +can at least let me do this little thing, when you have done so much, or +I shall think you selfish." + +He stood as a bad boy stands when unexpectedly rewarded for some good +deed, uncomfortable because of the ridiculous seriousness given to his +gash, and ashamed because he was glad of the attention. He tried not to +look at her, but somehow his eyes would not stray from her face, her heavy +mass of black hair and her wonderful eyes. + +"You make me think that I'm really hurt," he feebly expostulated as he +capitulated to her deft hands. "Now, if it was a real wound, why it might +be all right. But, pshaw, all this fuss and feathers about a scratch!" + +"Indeed!" she cried, dropping the stained handkerchief to the ground +as she took another from her dress, plastering his hair back with her +free hand. "I suppose you would rather have what you call a real wound! +You should be thankful that it is no worse! Why, just the tiniest bit +more, and you would have--" she shuddered as she thought of it and turned +quickly away and tore a strip of linen from her skirt. Straightening up +and facing him again she ripped off the trimming and carefully plucked +the loose threads from it. Folding it into a neat bandage she placed the +handkerchief over the wound after pushing back the rebellious hair and +bound it into place with the strip, deftly patting it here and pushing it +there until it suited her. Then, drawing it tight, she unfastened the +gold breast-pin which she wore at her throat and pinned the bandage into +place, stepping back to regard her work with satisfaction. + +"There!" she cried laughing delightedly. "You look real well in a bandage! +But I am sorry there is need for one," she said, sobering instantly. +"But, then, it could have been much worse, very much worse, couldn't +it?" she asked, smiling brightly. + +Before The Orphan could reply, Bill saw a break in the conversation, or +thought he did, and hastened to say something, for he felt unnatural. + +"I got yore smokin', Orphant!" he cried, clambering up to his seat. +"Leastawise, I had before them war-whoops--yep! Here she is, right side +up and fine and dandy!" + +Could he have seen the look which the outlaw flashed at him he would have +quailed with sudden fear. Three gasps arose in chorus, and the women +drew back from the outlaw, fearful and shocked and severe. But with +the sheriff's younger sister it was only momentarily, for she quickly +recovered herself and the look of fear left her eyes. So this, then, +was the dreaded Orphan, the outlaw of whom her brother had written! This +young, sinewy, good-looking man, who had swayed so unsteadily on his +feet, was the man the stories of whose outrages had filled the pages of +Eastern newspapers and magazines! Could he possibly be guilty of the +murders ascribed to him? Was he capable of the inhumanity which had +made his name a synonym of terror? As she wondered, torn by conflicting +thoughts, he looked at her unflinchingly, and his thin lips wore a +peculiar smile, cynical and yet humorous. + +Bill leaped to the ground with the smoking tobacco and, blissfully +unconscious of what he had done, continued unruffled. + +"That was d----n fine--begging the ladies' pardon," he cried. "Yes sir, +it was plumb sumptious, it shore was! And when I tell the sheriff how +you saved his sisters, he'll be some tickled! You just bet he will! And +I'll tell it right, too! Just leave the telling of it to me. Lord, when +I looked back to see how far them war-whoops were from my back hair, and +saw you tearing along like you was a shore enough express train, I just +had to yell, I was so tickled. It was just like I held a pair of deuces +in a big jack-pot and drew two more! My, but didn't I feel good! And, +say--whenever you run out of smoking again, you just flag Bill Howland's +chariot: you can have all he's got. That's straight, you bet! Bill Howland +don't forget a turn like that, never." + +The enthusiasm he looked for did not materialize and he glanced from one +to another as he realized that something was up. + +"Come, dears, let us go," said Mary Shields, lifting her skirts and +abruptly turning her back on the outlaw. "We evidently have far to go, +and we have wasted _so_ much time. Come, Grace," she said to her friend, +stepping toward the coach. + +Bill stared and wondered how much time had been wasted, since never before +had he reached that point in so short a time. He had made two miles to +every one at his regular speed. + +"Come, Helen!" came the command from the elder, and with a trace of +surprise and impatience. + +"Sister! Why, Mary, how can you be so mean!" retorted the girl with the +black eyes, angry and indignant at the unkindness of the cut, her face +flushing at its injustice. Her spirit was up in arms immediately and she +deliberately walked to The Orphan and impulsively held out her hand, her +sister's words deciding the doubts in her mind in the outlaw's favor. + +"Forgive her!" she cried. "She doesn't mean to be rude! She is so very +nervous, and this afternoon has been too much for her. It was a man's +act, a brave man's act! And one which I will always cherish, for I will +never forget this day, never, never!" she reiterated earnestly. "I don't +care what they say about you, not a bit! I don't believe it, for you +could not have done what you have if you are as they paint you. I will +not wait for our driver to tell my brother about your splendid act--he, +at least, shall know you as you are, and some day he will return it, too." + +Then she looked from him to her hand: "Will you not shake hands with +me? Show me that you are not angry. Are you fair to me to class me as an +enemy, just because my brother is the sheriff?" + +He looked at her in wonderment and his face softened as he took the hand. + +"Thank you," he said simply. "You are kind, and fair. I do not think of +you as an enemy." + +"Helen! Are you coming?" came from the coach. + +He smiled at the words and then laughed bitterly, recklessly, his +shoulders unconsciously squaring. There was no malice in his face, +only a quizzical, baffling cynicism. + +"Oh, it's a shame!" she cried, her eyes growing moist. She made a gesture +of helplessness and looked him full in the eyes. "Whatever you have +done in the past, you will give them no cause to say such things in the +future, will you? You will leave it all behind you and get work, and not +be an outlaw any more, won't you? You will prove my faith in you, for I +_have_ faith in you, won't you? It will all be forgotten," she added, +as if her words made it so. Then she leaned forward to readjust the +bandage. "There, now it's all right--you must not touch it again like +that." + +"You are alone in your faith," he replied bitterly, not daring to look at +her. + +"Oh, I reckon not," muttered Bill, scowling at the stage as if he would +like to unhitch and leave it there. Then seeing The Orphan glance at the +horse which was grazing contentedly, he went out to capture the animal. +"D----d old hen, that's what she is!" he muttered fiercely. "I don't care +if she is the sheriff's sister, that's just what she is! Just a regular +ingrowing disposition!" + +"You are kind, as kind as you are beautiful," The Orphan responded simply. +"But you don't know." + +She flushed at his words and then decided that he spoke in simple +sincerity. + +"I know that you are going to do differently," she replied as she extended +her hand again. "Good-by." + +He bowed his head as he took it and flushed: "Good-by." + +She slowly turned and walked toward the coach, where she was received by +a chilling silence. + +Bill brought the horse to where The Orphan stood lost in thought, +unbuckled his cartridge belt and wrapped it around the pommel of the +saddle, the heavy Colt still in the holster. Then he clambered up for his +rifle and tied it to the saddle skirt by the thongs of leather which +dangled therefrom. Looking about him he espied the keg on the sand and, +driving home the plug, slung it behind the cantle of the saddle where +he fastend it by the straps which held the outlaw's "slicker." Jamming +the package of tobacco into the pocket of the garment he stepped back +and grinned sheepishly at his generous gifts. He turned abruptly and +strode to the outlaw and shoved out his hand. + +"There, pardner, shake!" he cried heartily. "Yore the best man in the +whole d----d cow country, and I'll tell 'em so, too, by God!" + +The outlaw came out of his reverie and looked him searchingly in the face +as he gripped the outstretched hand with a grip which made the driver +wince. + +"Don't be a fool, Bill," he replied. "You'll get yourself disliked if +you enthuse about me." Then he noticed the additions to his equipment +and frowned: "You better take those things, I can't. The spirit is enough." + +"Oh, you borrow them 'til you see me again," replied Bill. "You may need +'em," he added as he wheeled and walked to the coach. He climbed to his +seat and wrapped the lines about his hands, cracking the whip as soon as +he could, and the coach lurched on its way to Ford's Station, the driver +grunting about fool old maids who didn't know enough to be glad they were +alive. + +The Orphan hesitated about the gifts and then decided to take them for +the time. He mounted and rode past the coach door, keeping near to the +flank of the last horse, where he listened to Bill's endless talk. + +"How is it that you've got a Cross Bar-8 cayuse?" Bill asked at length, +too idiotically happy to realize the significance of his question. + +The Orphan's hand leaped suddenly and then stopped and dropped to the +pommel, and he looked up at the driver. + +"Oh, one of their punchers and I sort of swapped," he laughingly replied, +thinking of the man under the debris. "Say, if I don't get as far as +the canyon with you, just climb up above on the left hand side near the +entrance and release a fool puncher that is covered up under a pile of +rubbish, will you? I came near forgetting him, and I don't want him to die +in that way." + +As he spoke he saw a group of horsemen swing over a rise and he knew them +instinctively. + +"There's the gang now--tell them, I'm off for a ride," he said, dropping +back to the coach door, where he raised his hand to his head and bowed. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE OUTFIT HUNTS FOR STRAYS + + +As the group of punchers and the stage neared each other Bill saw two +horsemen ride out into view beside a chaparral half a mile to the +northwest, and he recognized Shields and Charley, who were loping forward +as if to overtake the cowboys, their approach noiseless because of +the deep sand. As the cowboys came nearer Bill recognized them as being +the five worst men of the Cross Bar-8 outfit, and his loyalty to his +new friend was no stronger than his dislike for the newcomers. They +swept up at a canter and stopped abruptly near the front wheel. + +"Who was _that?"_ asked Larry Thompson impatiently, with his gloved hand +indicating the direction taken by The Orphan. + +"Friend of mine," replied Bill, who was diplomatically pleasant. "Say," he +began, enthusing for effect, "you should have turned up sooner--you missed +a regular circus! We was chased by five Apaches, and my friend cleaned +'em up right, he shore did! You should a seen it. I wouldn't a missed it +for----" + +"Cheese it!" relentlessly continued Larry, interrupting the threatened +verbal deluge. "Don't be all day about it, Windy," he cried; "who is he?" + +"Why, a friend of mine, Tom Davis," lied Bill. "He just wiped out a bunch +of Apaches, like I was telling you. They was a-chasing me some plentiful +and things was getting real interesting when he chipped in and took a +hand from behind. And he certainly cleaned 'em up brown, he shore did! +Say, I'll bet you, even money, that he can lick the sheriff, or even The +Orphant! He's a holy terror on wheels, that's what he is! Talk about +lightning on the shoot--and he can hit twice in the same place, too, +if he wants to, though there ain't no use of it when he gets there once. +The way he can heave lead is enough to make----" + +"Choke it, Bill, choke it!" testily ordered Curley Smith, whose reputation +was unsavory. "Tell us why in h--l he hit th' trail so all-fired hard. +Is yore friend some bashful?" he inquired ironically. + +"Well," replied Bill, grinning exasperatingly, "it all depends on how +you looks at it. Women say he is, men swear he ain't; you can take your +choice. But they do say he ain't no ladies' man," he jabbed maliciously, +well knowing that Curley prided himself on being a "lady-killer." + +"Th' h--l he ain't!" retorted Curley, with a show of anger, preparing to +argue, which would take time; and Bill was trying to give the outlaw a +good start of them. "Th' h--l he ain't!" he repeated, leaning aggressively +forward. "Yu keep yore opinions close to home, yu big-mouthed coyote!" + +"Well, you asked me, didn't you?" replied Bill. "And I told you, didn't I? +He's a good man all around, and say, you should oughter hear him sing! +He's a singer from Singersville, he is. Got the finest voice this side +of Chicago, that's what." + +"That's _real_ interesting, and _just_ what we was askin' yu about," +replied Larry with withering sarcasm. "An' bein' so, Windy, we'll shore +give him all the music he wants to sing to before dark if we gets him. +Yore lying ability is real highfalutin'. Now, suppose yu tell th' truth +before we drag it outen yu--who is he?" + +"You ought to know it by this time. Didn't I say his name is Tom Davis?" +he replied, crossing his legs, his face wearing a bored look. "How many +names do you think he's got, anyhow? Ain't one enough?" + +"Look a-here!" cried Curley, pushing forward. "Was that th' d----d +Orphant? Come on, now, talk straight!" + +"Orphant!" ejaculated Bill in surprise. "Did you say Orphant? Orphant +nothing!" he responded. "What in h--l do you think I'd be lying about +him for? Do I look easy? He ain't no friend of mine! Besides, I wouldn't +know him if I saw him, never having seen that frisky gent. Holy gee! is +the Orphant loose in this country, out here along my route!" he cried, +simulating alarm. + +"Well, we'll take a chance anyhow," interposed Jack Kelly. "I can tell +when a fool lies. If it _is_ yore friend Tom Davis we won't hurt him none." + +"Honest, you won't hurt him?" asked Bill, grinning broadly. "No, I reckon +_you_ won't, all right," he added, for the sheriff was close at hand +now and was coming up at a walk, and Bill had an abiding faith in that +official. He could be a trifle reckless how he talked now. He laughed +sarcastically and hooked his thumbs in the armholes of his vest. "Nope, +I reckon _you_ won't hurt him, not a little bit. Not if he knows you're +going to try it on him. And if it should be Mister Orphant, well, I hear +that he's dead sore on being hunted--don't like it for a d----n. I also +hear he drinks blood instead of water and whips five men before breakfast +every morning to get up an appetite. Oh, no, and you won't hurt him +neither, will you?" + +"Yore real pert, now _ain't_ yu?" shouted Curley angrily. "Yore a whole +lot sassy an' smart, _ain't_ yu? But if we find that he is that Orphant, +we'll pay yu a visit so yu can explain just why yore so d----d friendly +with him. He seems to have a whole lot of friends about this country, he +does! Even the sheriff won't hurt him. Even th' brave sheriff loses his +trail. Must be somethin' in it for somebody, eh?" + +"You'd better tell that to somebody else, the sheriff, for instance. He'd +like to think it over," responded Bill easily. "It's a good chance to +see a little branding, a la Colt, as the French say. Tell it to him, why +don't you?" + +"I'm a-tellin' it to yu, _now_, an' I'll tell it to Shields when I sees +him, yu overgrown baby, yu!" shouted Curley, his hand dropping to his +Colt. "Everybody knows it! Everybody is a-talkin' about it! An' we'll +have a new sheriff, too, before long! An' as for yu, if we wasn't in such +a hurry, we'd give yu a lesson yu'd never forget! That d----d Orphant +has got a pull, but we're goin' to give him a push, an' plumb into hell! +Either a pull or our brave sheriff is some ascairt of him! He's a _fine_ +sheriff, _he_ is, th' big baby!" + +"Pleasant afternoon, Curley," came from behind the group, accompanied by a +soft laugh. The voice was very pleasant and low. Curley stiffened and +turned in his saddle like a flash. The sheriff was smiling, but there was +a glint in his fighting eyes that gave grave warning. The sheriff smiled, +but some men smile when most dangerous, and as an assurance of mastery +and coolness. + +"Looking for strays, or is it mavericks?" he casually asked, a question +which left no doubt as to what the smile indicated, for it was a +challenge. Maverick hunting was at that time akin to rustling, and it was +occurring on the range despite the sheriff's best efforts to stop it. + +Curley flushed and mumbled something about a missing herd. He had suddenly +remembered the scene at the corral, and it had a most subduing effect on +him. The sheriff regarded him closely and then noted the bullet holes in +the coach. The door of the vehicle was closed, the curtains down, and no +sound came from within it. The baggage flap had settled askew over the +tell-tale trunks and hid them from sight on that side. + +"Oh, it's a missing herd this time, is it?" he inquired coolly. "Well, +I reckon you won't find it out here. They don't wander over this layout +while the Limping Water is running." + +"Well, we'll take a look down south aways; it won't do no harm now that +we've got this far," replied Larry. "Come on, boys," he cried. "We've +wasted too much time with th' engineer." + +"Wait!" commanded the sheriff shortly. "Your foreman made me certain +promises, and I reckon that you are out against orders. I wouldn't be +surprised if Sneed wants you right now." + +Larry laughed uneasily. "Oh, I reckon he ain't losin' no sleep about us. +We won't hurt nobody" --whereat Bill grinned. "Come on, fellows." + +"Well, I hope you get what you're looking for," replied the sheriff, +whereat Bill snickered outright and winked at Charley, who sat alert +and scowling behind the sheriff, rather hoping for a fight. + +Larry flashed the driver a malicious look and, wheeling, cantered south, +followed by his companions. They rode straight for the point at which The +Orphan had disappeared, Bill waving his arms and crying: "Sic 'em." The +chase was on in earnest. + +The stage door suddenly flew open with a bang and interrupted the +explanations which Bill was about to offer, and in a flash the sheriff +was almost smothered by the attentions showered on him. Laughing and +struggling and delighted by the surprise, the peace officer could not +get a word edgewise in the rapid-fire exclamations and questions which +were hurled at him from all sides. + +But finally he could be heard as he extricated himself from the embraces +of his sisters. + +"Well, well!" he cried, smiles wreathing his face as he stepped back to +get a good look at them. "You're a sight to make a sick man well! My, +Helen, but how you've grown! It's been five years since I saw you--and +you were only a schoolgirl in short dresses! And Mary hasn't grown a +bit older, not a bit," addressing the elder of the two. Then he turned to +the friend. "You must pardon me, Miss Ritchie," he said as he shook hands +with her. "But I've been looking forward to this meeting for a long time. +And I'm really surprised, too, because I didn't expect you all until the +next stage trip. I had intended meeting you at the train and seeing you +safely to Ford's Station, because the Apaches are out. I couldn't get +word to you in time for you to postpone your visit, so I was going to +take Charley and several more of the boys and escort you home." + +Then he looked about for Charley, and found that person engaged in +conversation with Bill as the two examined the bullet-marked stage. + +"Come here, Charley!" he cried, beckoning his friend to his side. +"Ladies, this is Charley Winter, and he is a real good boy for a puncher. +Charley, Miss Ritchie, my sisters Mary and Helen. I reckon you ladies are +purty well acquainted with Bill Howland by this time, but in case you +ain't, I'll just say that he is the boss driver of the Southwest, noted +locally for his oppressive taciturnity. I reckon you two boys don't need +any introducing," he laughed. + +Then, while the conversation throbbed at fever heat, Bill suddenly +remembered and wheeled toward the sheriff. + +"The Orphant!" he yelled in alarm, hoping to gain attention that way. + +The sheriff and Charley wheeled, guns in hand, and leaped clear of the +women, their quick eyes glancing from point to point in search of the +danger. + +"Where?" cried the sheriff over his shoulder at Bill. + +"Down south, ahead of them fool punchers," Bill exclaimed. "He's only +got a little start on 'em. And they know he's there, too. That's why +they're looking for cows on a place cows never go." + +Then he related in detail the occurrences of the past few hours, to the +sheriff's great astonishment, and also to his delight at the way it had +turned out. Shields thought of his own personal experiences with the +outlaw, and this put him deeper in debt. His opinion as to there being +much good in his enemy's makeup was strengthened, and he smiled at the +fighting ability and fairness of the man who had declared a truce with +him by the big bowlder on the Apache Trail. + +"Oh, I hope they don't catch him!" Helen cried anxiously. "Can't you do +something, James?" she implored. "He saved us, and he is wounded, too! +Can't you stop them?" + +The sheriff looked to the south in the direction taken by the +cow-punchers, and a hard light grew in his eyes. + +"No, not now," he replied decisively. "They've had too much time now. And +it's safe to bet that they rode at full speed just as soon as they got +out of my sight. They knew Bill would tell me. They're miles away by +this time. But don't you worry, Sis--they won't get him. Five curs never +lived that could catch a timber wolf in his own country--and if they +do catch him, they will wish they hadn't. And I almost hope they win the +chase, for they'll lose their fool lives. It will be a lesson to the +rest of the bullies of the Cross Bar-8--and small loss to the community at +large, eh, Charley?" + +"Yore shore right, Jim," replied Charley, smiling at Miss Ritchie. +"Did you ever hear tell of the dog that retrieved a lighted dynamite +cartridge?" he asked her. "No? Well, the dog left for parts unknown." + +"That's good, Charley," Shields responded with a laugh. "The dog just +wouldn't mind, and he was only a snarling, no-account cur at that, +wasn't he?" Then he looked at the coach, and his heart softened to the +hunted man. "I can see it all, now," he said slowly. "Those punchers must +have forced him out of the Backbone, and he was getting away when he +saw the plight you were in. By God!" he cried in appreciation of the +act. "It wasn't no one man's work, five Apaches! One man stopping five of +those devils--it was no work for a murderer, not much! It was clean-cut +nerve, and if I ever see him I'll tell him so, too! I'll let him know that +he's got some friends in this country. They can say what they please, +but there's more manhood in him to the square inch than there is in all +the people who cry him down; and who are in a great way responsible for +his being an outlaw. I'm ready to swear that he never wantonly shot a man +down; no, sir, he didn't. And I reckon he never had much show, from +what I know of him." + +"Helen was real kind to him," remarked the spinster. "She bathed his wound +and bandaged it. Spoiled her very best skirt, too." + +"You're a good girl, Sis," Shields said, looking fondly at the beautiful +girl at his side. His arm went around her shoulder and he affectionately +patted her cheek. "I'm proud of you, and we'll have to see if we can't +get another 'very best skirt,' too." Then he laughed: "But I'll bet he +blesses the warrior who fired that shot--he's not used to having pretty +girls fuss about him." + +Mary looked quickly at her sister. "Why, Helen! You've lost your gold pin! +Where do you suppose it has gone? I'll look in the stage for it before we +forget about it. Dear me, dear me," she cried as she entered the vehicle, +"this has indeed been a terrible day!" + +Bill grinned and turned toward his team. "I reckon she'll find it some +day," he said in a low aside as he passed the sheriff. "I'll just bet she +does. It'll be in at the finish of a whole lot of things, and people, too, +you bet," he added enigmatically. + +Shields looked quickly at the driver, his face brightened and he smiled +knowingly at the words. "I reckon it will; fool punchers, for instance?" + +Bill turned his head and one eye closed in an emphatic wink. "Keno," he +replied. + +Mary bustled out again, very much agitated. "I can't find it. Where do +you suppose you lost it, dear? I've looked everywhere in the stage." + +"Probably back where we stopped before," Helen replied quietly. "We were +so agitated that we would never have noticed it if it slipped down." + +"Well--" began Mary. + +"No use going back for it, Miss Shields," promptly interrupted Bill from +his high seat. "We just couldn't find it in all that trampled sand, not +if we hunted all week for it with a comb." + +"You're right, Bill," gravely responded the sheriff. "We never could." + +As they entered the defile of the Backbone the sheriff suddenly remembered +what Bill had told him and he stopped and dismounted. + +"You keep right on, Bill," he said. "I'm going up to hunt that fool +puncher. Lord, but it's a joke! This game is getting better every day--I'm +getting so I sort of like to have The Orphan around. He's shore original, +all right." + +"He's better than a marked deck in a darkened room," laughed the driver. +"He shore ought to be framed, or something like that." + +"You better go with them, Charley," the sheriff said as his friend made a +move at dismounting. "There ain't no danger, but we won't take no chances +this time; we've got a precious coachful." + +"All right," replied Charley as he wheeled toward the disappearing stage. +"So long, Sheriff." + +The sheriff looked the wall over and then picked out a comparatively easy +place and climbed to the top. As he drew himself over the edge he espied +a pair of boots which showed from under a pile of debris, and he laughed +heartily. At the laugh the feet began to kick vigorously, so affecting +the sheriff that he had to stop a minute, for it was the most ludicrous +sight he had ever looked upon. + +Shields grabbed the boots and pulled, walking backward, and soon an +enraged and trussed cow-puncher came into view. Slowly and carefully +unrolling the rope from the unfortunate man, he coiled it methodically +and slung it over his shoulder, and then assisted in loosening the gag. + +The puncher was too stiff to rise and his liberator helped him to his +feet and slapped and rubbed and chuckled and rubbed to start the blood in +circulation. The gag had so affected the muscles of the puncher's jaw +that his mouth would not close without assistance and effort, and his +words were not at all clear for that reason. His first word was a curse. + +"'Ell!" he cried as he stamped and swung his arms. "'Ell! I'm asleep all +o'er! ----! 'Ait till I get 'im! ----! 'Ait till I get 'im!" + +"Sort of continuing the little nap you was taking when he roped you, eh?" +asked Shields, holding his sides. + +"Nap nothing! Nap nothing!" yelled the other in profane denial. "I wasn't +asleep, I tell yu! I was wide awake! He got th' drop on me, and then that +cussed rope of his'n was everywhere! Th' air was plumb full of rope and +guns! I didn't have no show! Not a bit of a show! Oh, just wait till I +get him! Why, I heard my pardners talking as they hunted for me, and there +I was not twenty feet away from them all the time, helpless! They're +fine lookers, they are! Wait till I sees them, too! I'll tell 'em a few +things, all right!" + +"Well, I reckon you may see one or two of them, if they're lucky--and you +can't beat a fool for luck," replied the sheriff. "They want to be angels; +they're on his trail now." + +"Hope they get him!" yelled the puncher, dancing with rage. "Hope they +burn him at th' stake! Hope they scalp him, an' hash him, an' saw his arms +off, an' cave his roof in! Hope they make him eat his fingers and toes! +Hope----" + +"You're some hopeful to-day," responded the sheriff. "If you like them, +you better hope they don't get him. That's hoping real hope." + +"Wait till I get him!" the puncher repeated, grabbing for his Colt, being +too enraged to notice its absence. "I'll show him if he can tie a man up +an' leave him to choke to death, an' starve an' roast! I'll show him if +he can run this country like he owns it, shooting and abusing everybody +he wants to!" + +"All right, Sonny," Shields laughed. "I'll shore wait till you gets him, +if I live long enough. But for your sake I shore hope you never finds him. +He wouldn't get any more reputation if he killed you, and your friends +would miss you." + +"Don't yu let that worry yu!" retorted the enraged man. "I can take care +of myself in a mix-up, all right! An' I'm going to chase after my friends +an' take a hand in th' game, too, by God! He ain't going to leave me high +an' dry an' live to boast about it! But I suppose you reckon yu'll stop +me, hey?" + +Shields raised both hands high in the air in denial. "I wouldn't think +of such a thing, not for the world," he cried, laughter shaking his big +frame. "You can go any place you please, only _I'd_ take a gun if I was +going after _him_," he added, eyeing the empty holster. "You know, you +_might_ need it," he was very grave in his use of the subjunctive. + +The puncher slapped his hand to his thigh and then jumped high into the +air: "----! ----!" he shouted. "Stole my gun! Stole my gun!" Then he +paused suddenly and his face cleared. "But I've got something better'n a +Colt on my cayuse!" he cried as he leaped toward the edge of the canyon. +"An' I'll give him all it holds, too!" he threatened as he bumped and +slid to the bottom. The sheriff took more care and time in descending and +had just reached the trail when he heard a heart-rending yell, followed +by a sizzling stream of throbbing profanity. + +"Where's my cayuse?" yelled the puncher as he rounded the corner of +the canyon wall on a peculiar lope and hop. "Where's my cayuse, yu +law-coyote?" he shouted, temporarily out of his senses from rage. +"Where's my cayuse!" dancing up to the sheriff and shaking both fists +under the laughter-convulsed face. + +When the sheriff could speak, he leaned against the canyon wall for support +and broke the news. + +"Why, Bill Howland said as how The Orphan was riding a Cross Bar-8 +cayuse--dirty brown, with a white stocking on his near front foot. It +had a big scar on its neck, too." + +"Th' d----d hoss thief!" began the puncher, but Shields kept right on +talking. + +"There was a dandy Cheyenne saddle," he said, counting on his fingers, "a +good gun, a pair of hobbles and a big coil of rawhide rope on the cayuse. +Was they yours?" + +"Was they mine! Was they mine!" his companion screamed. "My new saddle +gone, my gun gone and my fine rope gone! Oh, h--l! How'll I hunt him now? +How'll I get home? How'll I get back to th' ranch?" Words failed him, and +he could only wave his arms and yell. + +"Well, it wouldn't hardly be worth while chasing him on foot without a +gun, that's shore," the sheriff said, grave once more. "But you can get +home all right; that's easy." + +"How can I?" asked the puncher, eyeing the sheriff's horse and waiting +for the invitation to ride double on it. + +"Why, walk," was the reply. "It's only about twenty miles as the crow +flies--say twenty-five on the trail." + +"Walk! Walk!" cried his companion, savagely kicking at a lizard which +looked out from a crevice in the rock wall. "I never walked five miles +all at once in my life!" + +"Well, it'll be a new experience, and you can't begin any younger," +replied Shields as he swung into his saddle. "It'll do you good, +too--increase your appetite." + +"I'm so hungry now I'm half starved," replied the other. "But I'll pay up +for all this, you see if I don't! I'll get square with that d----d outlaw!" + +"You don't know enough to be glad you were found," retorted the sheriff. +"And if he hadn't told Bill where to look for you, you wouldn't have been, +neither. You got off easy, Bucknell, and don't you forget it, neither. +Men have been killed for less than what you tried to do." + +The puncher wilted, for twenty-five miles in high-heeled boots, over rocks +and sand, and with an empty stomach, was terrible to contemplate, and he +turned to the sheriff beseechingly. + +"Give me a lift, Sheriff," he implored. "Take me up behind you--I can't +walk all the way!" + +Shields looked at the sun, which was nearing the western horizon, and +thought for a minute. Then he shrugged his shoulders. + +"Well, I hadn't ought to help you a step, not a single, solitary step, and +you know it. You tried your best to run against me. You tried to hold me +up there by the corral, and then after I had warned you not to go out +for The Orphan you went right ahead. Now you're asking me to help you out +of your trouble, to make good for your fool stupidity. But I'll take you +as far as the end of the canyon--no, I'll take you on to the ford, and +then you can do the rest on foot. That'll leave you ten or a dozen miles. +Get aboard." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +"A TIMBER WOLF IN HIS OWN COUNTRY" + + +When The Orphan said good-by to Bill he sat quietly in his saddle for a +minute watching the departing stage and wondered how it was that he had +the decency to avoid a fight with the cowboys in the presence of the +women. Then Helen's words came to him and he smiled at the idea of peace +when he would have to fight the outfit before sundown. The heat of the sun +on his bare head recalled him from his mental wanderings and he wheeled +abruptly and galloped along the trail to where he remembered that a tiny, +blood-stained handkerchief lay in the dust and sand. Soon he espied it +and, swinging over in the saddle, deftly picked it up and regained his +upright position, his head reeling at the effort. Unfolding it he examined +the neat "H" done in silk in one corner and smiled as he put it in his +chaps pocket where he kept his extra ammunition. + +"Peace and war in one pocket," he muttered, grinning at his cartridges' +new and unusual companion. + +Then he espied a Winchester near a fallen brave, and he procured it as he +had the handkerchief. Describing an arc he picked up another, discarding +it after he had emptied the magazine, for ammunition was what he wanted. +Two Winchesters were all right, but three were too many. As he threw it +from him he glanced through a slight opening in the chaparral and saw the +outfit approach the stage. Then he galloped to where his sombrero lay, +picked it up and turned to the south for the Cimarron Trail. When +thoroughly screened by the chaparral he pushed on with the swinging lope +which his horse could maintain for hours, and which ate up distance in +an astonishing manner. He had lost time in going for his sombrero and +the handkerchief, and every minute before nightfall was precious. His +thoughts now bent to the problem of how either to elude or ambush his +pursuers, and the Winchesters bespoke his forethought, for up to six +hundred yards they were not a pleasant proposition to face. If he +eluded the cowboys in the darkness he was morally certain that they +would take up his trail at dawn, and what distance he had gained would be +at the expense of the freshness of his horse. While he would average ten +miles an hour through the night, their mounts, freshened by a night's +rest, might cut down his gain before the nightfall of the next day. + +One of the Winchesters worked loose from its lashings and started to slide +toward the ground. He quickly grasped it and made it secure, smiling at +the number of rifles he had had and lost during the past three weeks. + +"Funny how this country has been shedding Winchesters lately," he mused. +"There was the five I got by the big bowlder, which I lost playing tag +with that d----d Cross Bar-8 gang, and here's two more, and I just left +three what I didn't want. Well, they're real handy for stopping a rush, +and I reckons that's what I'm up against this time. If I can find a +likely spot for a scrap before dark I may stop that gang in bang-up +style, d----n them." + +Half an hour later he caught sight of a moving body of horsemen to the +southeast of him and his glasses enabled him to make them out. + +"'Paches!" he exclaimed, and then he smiled grimly and continued on his +way toward them, taking care to keep himself screened from their sight +by rises and chaparrals. His first thought had been of danger, but now +he laughed at the cards fate had put in his hand, for he would use the +Indians to great advantage later on. + +He counted them and made their number to be twenty-two, which accounted +for the five warriors who had pursued the stage coach. The odds were fine +and he laughed joyously, recklessly: "All is fair in love and war," he +muttered savagely. + +Before the Indians had come upon the scene he had been alone to face +five angry and vengeful men, and whom he had every reason to believe +were at least fair fighters. Had the positions been reversed they would +not have hesitated to make use of any stratagem to save themselves--and +here were two contingents, both of which would take his life at the first +opportunity. He felt no distaste at the game he was about to play; on +the other hand, it pleased him immensely to know that he was superior +in intellect to his enemies. They both wanted blood, and they should +have it. If they found too much, well and good--that was their lookout. +And no less pleasing was the knowledge that he had sent them north and +that now he could make use of them. He wondered what they had been doing +for the last three weeks and why they were still in that part of the +country, but he did not care, for they were where he wanted them to be. + +"Twenty-two mad Apaches on the warpath against five cow-wrastlers!" +he exulted. "More than four to one, and just aching to get square on +somebody! That Cross Bar-8 gang will have something to weep about purty +d----n soon! And I shore hope they don't get tired and quit chasing me." + +He stopped and waited when he had gained a screened position from where +he could look back over his trail, and he had not long to wait, for soon +he saw five cowboys galloping hard in his direction. Another look to +the southeast showed him that the war party was now riding slowly toward +him, not knowing of his presence, and they would arrive at his cover +at about the same time the cowboys would come up. Neither the Indians +nor the cowboys knew of the proximity of the other, while The Orphan +could see them both. He glanced at the thicket to the west of him and +saw that it was thin, being a connecting link between the two larger +chaparrals. + +"I don't know how you are on the jump, bronch," he said to his mount, "but +I reckon you can get through that, all right." + +The cowboys disappeared from his sight behind the northern chaparral, +and as they did so he sunk his spurs into his horse and rode straight at +the prickly screen and, going partly over and partly through it, galloped +westward as the war party and the ranch contingent met. The shots and +yells were as music to his ears, and he bowed in mockery and waved his +hand at the turmoil as he made his escape. The timber wolf had won. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE CROSS BAR-8 LOSES SLEEP + + +Sneed was angry, which could be seen by the way he talked, ate, moved and +swore. He had many cattle to care for and they were strewn over six +hundred square miles of territory. The work was hard enough when he had +his full dozen punchers, but now it forced groans from the tired bodies +of his men, who fell asleep while removing their saddles at night, and +who worked in a way almost mechanical. The extra work was not conducive to +sweetness of temper, and he was continually quelling fights among the +members of the outfit. Where only argument formerly would have arisen +over differences of opinion, guns now leaped forth; and the differences +were multiplied greatly, and getting worse every day. Things which +ordinarily would have provoked no notice, or a laugh at most, now caused +hot words and surliness. And the reason for the extra work was the +continued absence of five cow punchers. + +Sneed, tired of cursing the missing men and of offering himself +explanations as to why they had not returned, fell, instead, to +planning an appropriate reception for them on their return to the ranch. +He needed no rehearsing, for while he did not know in just what manner +he would reveal his ideas concerning them, he knew what his ideas were +and he had always been good at extemporizing when under pressure, and he +was under pressure now if he had ever been. + +The extra work was hard enough in itself to cause his anger to rise +and to create sensitiveness and surliness on the part of his men, but +it was only one factor of his discontent. Busy all day at driving the +scattered cattle away from the Backbone and closer to the ranch proper +where they would be less likely to fall prey to Apache raiders; working +all day from the first sign of dawn to the prohibitive blackness of the +night, they could have stood up under the strain, for these were men of +iron, inured to hardships and constant riding. But hardy as they were +there was one thing which they must have, and that was sleep. If they +could have only four hours of unbroken sleep when they threw themselves, +fully dressed with the exception of their boots, in their bunks, they +could have endured the labor for weeks. But this was denied them, and +constantly on their minds were thoughts of fire, slaughtered cattle +and death. + +For a week night had been a terror on the Cross Bar-8. No sooner had the +exhausted outfit fallen asleep than bits of window glass would fly about +them, cutting and stinging. There was not a whole window pane in the house +and the door was so full of lead that it sagged on its half-shattered +hinges. Cooking utensils were fast deserving premiums, for hardly an +unperforated tin could be found on the premises. And their cook, a +Mexican, who most devoutly believed in a personal devil and a brimstone +hell, and who feared that he was living in uncomfortable proximity to +both, stood the strain for just two nights and then, panic-stricken, had +fled from the accursed place and left them to get their own meals as +best they could. The protection of the saints was all very well and good +under ordinary circumstances, but when they failed to stop the bullets +which passed through his cook shack and which more than once had grazed +him, it was time for him to find some place far removed from the Cross +Bar-8, and where the devil was less strong. When the saints allowed a +devil-sped bullet to completely shatter a crucifix it was time to migrate, +which he did, but in broad daylight when the outfit had departed and when +the devil was not in evidence. + +The interiors of both the ranch house and the bunk house were wrecked. +The clock, the pride of the foreman, stood with half its wheels buried in +the wall behind it by a .50 caliber slug, its hands pointing to half-past +one. Lead filled the interior walls, where opposite windows, and the +holes and splinters were a disgrace. Sombreros, equipment and the few +pictures the walls boasted were like tops of pepper shakers. No sooner was +a light shown than it became the target for a shot, and more than one +wound gave proof as to the accuracy of the perpetrator. So tired that +they fell asleep at supper, the men were constantly awakened by the noise +of devastation and the whining hum of the bullets. Pursuit was a failure, +and was also hazardous, as proven by Bert Hodge's arm, broken by a .50 +caliber slug from somewhere. + +The two houses, wrecked as they were, were fortunate when compared to +the condition of the other appurtenances of the ranch. Horses were +found dead at all points, and always with a bullet hole in the center +of the forehead. The carcasses of cows dotted the plain, and fire had +half-destroyed the three corrals. The three new cook wagons, unsheltered, +were denuded of bolts and nuts, and their tarpaulins were hopelessly +ruined. A wheel was missing from each of them and their poles had been +cut through in the middle, the severed ends being found on the roof of +the ranch house three minutes after their crashing descent had +awakened the foreman, who heard the hum and thud of a bullet as he opened +the door. The best grass had been burned off and the outfit had fought +fire on several nights when it should have slept. And the small water +hole near the cook shack, which furnished water for the bunk house, +had been cleared of a dead calf on two mornings. Scouting was of no +avail, for the few remaining horses (which now spent the night in the +bunk house) were as exhausted as their riders. Keeping guard was a +farce, for it had been tried twice, and the guards had fallen asleep; +and, awakened by their foreman at dawn, found that their rifles, +sombreros and even their spurs were missing. With all his hatred for The +Orphan, Sneed was fair-minded enough to give his enemy credit for being +the better man. When the harassing outrages had first begun and the +foreman and his men were comparatively fresh, he had given the matter +his whole attention; and he was no fool. But he had gained nothing but a +sense of defeat, which fact did not improve his peace of mind or +cause him to lose a whit of his anger. Do what he could, plan as he +might, he was beaten, and beaten at every turn. He had to deal with a +man whose cunning and ingenuity were far above the average; a man who, +combining a rare courage and a wonderful accuracy in shooting with +devilish strategy, towered far above the ordinary rustler and outlaw. +Sneed knew that he was absolutely at the mercy of his persistent enemy +and wondered why it was that he did not steal up in the night and kill +the outfit as it slept, which was entirely feasible. Finally, when the +strain had grown too much for even his iron nerves the sheriff was +implored to take command on the ranch and give it his personal +protection. The relations between the sheriff and the ranch were not +as cordial as they might have been, and the asking of this favor was +gall and wormwood to the foreman and his outfit. + +When Shields arrived to take charge of the trouble, accompanied by Charley +and two others, he sought the foreman, for Charley had news of a grave +nature for the Cross Bar-8. + +The foreman ran out of the bunk house and met them near the corral, where +the disagreement had taken place. + +"By the living God, Sheriff!" he cried, white with anger. "This thing +has got to stop if we have to call out the cavalry! We can't get a +decent breakfast--not a whole plate or pan in the house! Our cayuses +and cows are being slaughtered by the score! And as for the rest of our +possessions, they are so full of holes that they whistle when the wind +blows!" + +"So I heard," replied the sheriff. "I'll do my best." + +"We've been doing our best, but what good is it?" cried the foreman. "We +are so plumb sleepy we go to sleep moving about! We dassent show our faces +after dark without being made a target of! Our new wagons are wrecks, the +corrals destroyed and the best grass made us fight for our lives while it +burned! That cursed outlaw has got to be killed, d----n him!" + +"We'll do our best, Sneed," responded Shields. "I reckon we can stop it; +at least we can give you a good night's rest." + +"Where are my five punchers?" Sneed asked; his words bellowed until his +voice broke. "And Bucknell! D----n near dead before you found him above +the canyon, tied up like a package of flour!" + +"Well, Charley can tell you about your men," Shields responded, viewing +the devastation on all sides of him. + +"Well, what about them?" cried the foreman turning to the sheriff's +deputy, anger flashing anew in his eyes. + +"Well," Charley slowly began, "I was taking a short cut this morning, +and when I got to a place about a dozen miles southeast of the mouth +of Bill's canyon, I saw five bodies on the desert. They were your +cow-punchers, and they was so full of arrows that they looked like big +brooms. Apaches, I reckon," he added sententiously. + +Sneed tore his hair and swore when he was not choking. + +"And after I told them to let up on that blasted outlaw's trail!" he +yelled. "Where will it end, between war-whoops and murders? What sort of +a God-forsaken layout is this, anyhow? A man can't stick his nose out of +his own house after dark without having it skinned by a slug! He's a +h--l of a hefty orphant, he is! Poor thing, ain't got no paw or maw to +look after his dear little hide! He needs a regiment of cavalry for a +papa, that's what he needs, and a good strong lariat for a mamma! Orphant! +He's a h--l of a sumptious orphant!" + +"Have you trailed him?" asked the sheriff, having to smile in spite of +himself at the execution on all sides of him, and at the foreman's words. + +"Trailed him!" yelled Sneed, raising on his toes in his vehemence. +"Trailed him! Good God, yes! But what good is it, what can we do when +our cayuses are so dod-gasted tired that they can't catch a tumble bug? +Trailed him! Yes, we trailed him, all right! We trailed him until we fell +asleep in the saddles on our sleeping cayuses! And while we were gone, +d----d if he didn't blow in and smash up our furniture! We trailed him, +all right; just like a lot of cross-eyed, locoed drunken ants! We had to +wake each other up, and he could-a killed the whole crowd of us with a +club! And my punchers who were so cock-sure they'd get him! How in +h--l did they go and mess up with Apaches? They wasn't no fool kids!" + +"The last time we saw them they were leaving the stage to go south after +him," Charley said. "They hadn't got more than ten miles south when they +must have met the Apaches. I have a suspicion that The Orphan had a hand +in that meeting, but how he did it I don't know. But I know that the spot +was lovely for a head-on collision. Punchers riding south would turn the +corner of the chaparral and run into the war party before they knowed +it. And I didn't see The Orphant's body laying around all full of arrows, +neither." + +Sneed's rage was pathetic. He almost frothed, and tears stood in his +blood-shot eyes. His neck and his face were red as fire and the veins +of his neck and forehead stood out like whip-cords, while his face +worked convulsively. He was incapable of coherent speech, his words being +unintelligible growls, a series of snarls, and he could only pace back +and forth, waving his arms and cursing wildly. + +Shields glanced about the ranch and gave a few orders, his men executing +them without delay. One man was to keep guard in the bunk house while +Sneed and his woe-begone men slept. The sheriff and Charley rode away +toward the north to begin the search for the outlaw; and there was to +be no quarter asked or given if his deputies had anything to do with it. + +The remaining deputy busied himself about the ranch in executing a +plan the sheriff had thought out, and his actions were peculiar. First +selecting a position from which a man could command an extensive view of +the premises, he began to pace off distances in all directions. The +place was about eight hundred yards west of the ranch house and bunk +house, and formed one angle of a triangle with them; and from it it was +possible to look in through the windows of both of them. Anyone passing +within good rifle range of either house would show up against the lights +in the windows; and if a man had been covered over with sand on that +particular outlying angle, he could pick off the intruder without being +seen. The Orphan was due to meet with a surprise if he paid his regular +visit the coming night. + +The deputy, after completing his work to his satisfaction found three more +positions where they respectively commanded the corrals, the wagons and +the rear of the bunk house. Then he paced more distances and was careful +that bulky objects interposed in the direct lines between the positions, +this latter precaution being to make it impossible for the deputies to +shoot each other. This done, he went into the house and consulted with +his companion in arms, laughing immoderately about the joke they would +play on the marauder. + +While Shields and Charley vainly searched the plain and while the +deputy paced and thought and paced, and while Sneed and his exhausted +cow-punchers slept as if in death, safely under guard, two men were +riding along the Ford's Station Sagetown Trail well to the east of the +Backbone, chatting amicably and smoking the same brand of tobacco. One of +them sat high up in the air on the seat of a stage coach, from where he +overlooked his six-horse team. His face was wreathed in grins and his +expression was one of beatific contentment. The other cantered alongside +on a dirty brown horse which had a white stocking on the near front +foot, keeping close watch of the surrounding plain, his mind active and +alert. + +Bill Howland laughed suddenly and slapped his thigh with enthusiasm: +"Say, Orphant," he cried, "you are shore raising h--l with that Cross +Bar-8 gang! You has got them so tangled up and miserable that they don't +know where they are! If their brains was money they'd have to chalk up +their drinks. They're about as dangerous as ossified prairie dogs. +They remind me of the feller who kicked a rattlesnake to see if it was +alive, and found out that it was. No, sir, they shore won't die of brain +fever. Why, they ain't had any sleep for a week, have to work double +hard, eat what they can cook in sieve tins, and can't say their soul's +their own after dark. They could get rest if they quit working one +day and all but one get plenty of sleep. Then the other feller could get +his at night. But they don't know enough. Oh, it's rich: the whole +blamed town is laughing at 'em fit to bust. It's the funniest thing +ever happened in these parts since I've been out here." + +Then he suddenly paused: "Say, Sneed sent a puncher to town this morning. +It was that brass-headed, flat-faced Bucknell, what you tied up by the +canyon. He begged the sheriff to swear in a dozen bad men and come out and +protect his foreman and the rest of the outfit. And the pin-headed wart +went and blabbed the whole thing right in front of the Taggert's saloon +crowd, and he shore had to blow, all right. He shore did, and that gang's +always thirsty." + +The horseman flecked the ashes from his cigarette and smiled: "Well?" he +asked, looking up. + +"So Shields took Charley Winter and the two Larkin boys and went out +to the ranch right after the puncher went back. So you want to go easy +to-night or you'll touch off some unexpected fireworks and such. Shields +and his men will stay out there for several days and nights. That'll +give the crazy hens a chance to rest up a bit nights. But you be blamed +careful about them pinwheels and skyrockets or you'll get burned some. +Now, don't you even remember that _I_ told you about it. I wouldn't-a +said nothing at all, seeing as it ain't none of my business, only you +went and got me out of a tight place, and Bill Howland don't forget a +favor, no siree! You gave me a square deal and a ace full on kings with +them animated paint shops, and I'll give you a lift every time I can. +It wouldn't be a bad scheme to watch for me once in a while--I might have +some news for you." + +Bill's offer, plain as it was that he wished to help, not only because +he was in debt to the outlaw, but also because he wished to have safe +trips, touched the horseman deeply. Never in his life had The Orphan +been offered a helping hand from a stranger; all he could hope for was +to get the drop first. He rode on silently, buried in thought, and then, +suddenly flipping his cigarette at a cactus, raised his head and looked +full at the man above him. + +"You play square with me, Bill, and I'll take care of you," he replied. +"The less you say, the less apt you are to put your foot in it. I'll +hold my mouth about your information, for if Shields knew what you've +just said he'd play a tune for you to dance to. The Cross Bar-8 would +shoot you before a day passed. Any time you have news for me, tie your +kerchief to that cactus," pointing to an exceptionally tall plant close +at hand. "Do it on your outward trip. If I see it in time I'll meet you +somewhere on the Sagetown end of the trail on your return. I'm going +back now, so by-by." + +"So long, and good luck," replied Bill heartily. "I'll do the handkerchief +game, all right. Be some cautious about the way you buzz around that +stacked deck of a Cross Bar-8 for the next few days." + +The Orphan wheeled and cantered back, making a detour to the south, for +he had a plan to develop and did not wish to be interrupted by meeting +any more hunting parties. Bill lashed his team and rolled on his way to +Sagetown, a happy smile illuminating his countenance. + +"They can't beat us, bronchs," he cried to his team. "Me and The Orphant +can lick the whole blasted territory, you bet we can!" + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE ORPHAN PAYS TWO CALLS + + +Shortly after nightfall a rider cantered along the stage route, fording +the Limping Water and rode toward the town, whose few lights were bunched +together as if for protection against the spirits of the night. He +soon passed the scattered corrals on the outskirts of Ford's Station +and, slowing to a walk, went carelessly past the row of saloons and the +general store and approached a neat, small house some two hundred yards +west of the stage office. He appeared careless as to being seen; in fact +a casual observer would have thought him to be some cowboy who was +familiar with the town and who feared the recognition of no man. But while +he had no fear, he was alert; under his affected nonchalance nerves +were set for instant action. He was in the heart of the enemy's country, +in the crude stronghold of the Law, and if anything hostile to him +occurred it would happen quickly. And he was familiar with the town, +because he had on more than one occasion ridden through and explored it, +but never before at such an early hour. + +Arriving at his destination he dismounted and, leaving his horse +unrestrained by rope or strap, walked boldly up to the door of the +sheriff's house and knocked. Soon he heard footsteps within and the +door opened wide, revealing him standing hat in hand and smiling. + +"Good evening, ma'am," he said uneasily. + +The sheriff's wife stepped aside and the light fell full on his face. +For an instant she was at a loss, and then the fresh scar on his forehead +and her husband's good description came to her aid. She gasped and +stepped back involuntarily, astonished at his daring. Her act allowed +her companions to see him and the effect was marked. Miss Ritchie sat +upright in expectation, her face beaming, for this was as romantic and +unexpected as she could wish. Mary gasped and dropped her hands to her +side, not knowing what to do or say, while Helen slowly laid her work +aside and leaned forward slightly, regarding him intently, a curious +expression on her face. + +"I only called to ask how the ladies were," he continued slowly, turning +his hat in his hands, apparently not noticing Mrs. Shields' surprise. +"I was afraid they might have--that their recent experience might have +bothered them some." + +Evidently it was to be only a social call, and Mrs. Shields owed something +to this fair-minded and chivalrous man. She smiled kindly, remembering +that the caller was rather well thought of by her husband--he was not a +man for women to fear, whatever else he might be. + +"It is very kind of you," she replied. "Won't you come in?" she asked from +the habit of politeness, hardly expecting that he would do so. + +"Thank you, I will be glad to for a minute," he responded, slowly stepping +into the room, where he suddenly felt awkward and not at all comfortable. + +Helen picked up her work to fasten a thread, and he found himself +marveling at the cleverness of her fingers. Again laying the work +aside, she arose to meet him, a mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes. +It was so unusual to have been saved by an outlaw whom her brother had +tried to capture, and still more unusual to have him dare to call on her +in her brother's own house, especially after her sister's direct cut at +the coach. + +"Won't you be seated?" she asked, indicating her own chair by the light +and taking his hat. When the hat left him he suffered a loss, for he +had nothing to twist and grip. He replied by dropping into the chair, +not even seeing that it was out of range of the door as a compliment +to his hostess. There was no sign of a weapon on him, his holster being +empty; but his blue flannel shirt was unbuttoned, the opening hidden by +his neck-kerchief. He had, however, only put his Colt there to have it +out of sight, and not because he feared trouble. Habitual caution was +responsible for the shirt being open, for he was not even sure that he +would fight if trouble should come upon him, unless the women gave him +a clear field. + +Helen drew a chair from the wall and seated herself in the semi-circle +which faced him. + +"I am very glad that your wound has healed so nicely," she said with a +smile. "We are very sorry that you were hurt in our defense." + +"Oh, it wasn't anything," he quickly replied, smiling deprecatingly. "You +fixed it up so nice that it didn't bother me at all--didn't hurt a bit." + +"I am glad it was no worse," she replied, looking around the circle. +"Grace, Mary, you surely remember Mr.--Mr.----" + +"Please call me by the name you know me by--The Orphan," smiling broadly. +"I've almost forgotten that I ever had any other name." + +"Mr. Orphan--how funny it sounds," she laughed. "It's most original. +Margaret, this is the gentleman to whom we certainly owe our lives. Oh! I +know you don't like to be reminded of it," she went on, answering his +deprecatory gesture, "no doubt you are accustomed to that sort of thing +out here, but in the East such an experience does not often occur." + +"I am glad indeed to know and thank you," said Mrs. Shields, impulsively +extending her hand. "Your bravery has put me still deeper in your +debt. My husband--" her feelings overcame her as she realized that this +was the man who had spared to her that husband, her laughing, burly, +broad-shouldered, big-hearted king of men. Was it possible that this +handsome, confident stripling was his peer? + +Helen relieved the tension: "Mr. Orphan, this is Miss Ritchie, the same +Miss Ritchie who was so badly frightened when she first met you. Perhaps +you'll remember it. And this----" + +"I wasn't! I wasn't one bit frightened!" declared Miss Ritchie hotly, to +The Orphan's great enjoyment. + +"Now, Grace, don't fib--you can't deny it. And this is my sister who was +mean enough to keep her senses when I didn't. We thought highly of you +then, but even more so now. You see, my brother has been talking about +you, he takes a keen interest in you, Mr. Orphan--I declare I can't help +laughing at that name, it sounds so funny; but you will forgive me, won't +you? I knew you would. Well, James has been saying nice things about you, +and so you see we know you better now. He likes you real well, as well +as you will let him, and I'm awful sorry that he is not at home," she +dared, her eyes flashing with delight. "I am sure he would like to meet +you very much; in fact he has said as much. Oh, he speaks of you quite +often." + +The caller flushed, but he was determined to let them think him perfectly +at ease. + +"I am glad that he remembers me," he responded gravely. "I have only +met him once, but I thought he was rather glad to see me. We had a very +enjoyable time together and I found him very pleasant." He was forced +to smile as he recalled the six Apaches in the sheriff's rear. + +"Helen was just saying what awful risks her brother ran," Miss Ritchie +remarked, intently studying the rugged face before her. "But then, he's +a man. If I was a man, I wouldn't be afraid of them!" + +"My, how brave you are, Grace," laughed Mrs. Shields. "I heard quite to +the contrary about the stage ride." + +"Goodness, Margaret!" retorted Miss Ritchie, up in arms at the remark. +"You would have been afraid in that old coach if you had been banged about +in it as I was. The noise was terrible, and that awful driver!" + +The caller smiled at her spirit and then replied to her, serious at once. + +"Well, he does take chances," he said. "But for that matter every man +out in this country has to run risks. Now, I've taken some myself," he +added, smiling quizzically. "But, you know, we get used to them after a +while--we get used to everything but hunger and thirst--and life. I've +even gotten used to being lonesome, and I find that it really isn't so bad +after all. And then, you know, lonesomeness does have its advantages at +times, for it certainly promotes peace, and the cartridges that it saves +are worth considerable. But it took me several years before I could accept +it in that light with any degree of ease." + +Helen laughed merrily, for she most of all appreciated this outcast's +humor, and she liked him better the more he talked. + +"Yes, in time I suppose one does become accustomed to danger," she +replied, "although I'll be frank enough to admit that I don't believe +I could," glancing at her friend. "You risked much by coming here +to-night--just suppose that you had called last night!" + +"The danger was only from a chance recognition in the street," he replied, +smiling, "and it would have been equally dangerous for the man who +recognized me, and perhaps more so, since I was on the lookout--that +balances. I would be the last man anyone would expect to be in Ford's +Station at this time, and once free of the town, I could elude the +pursuers in the dark. And as for the sheriff, I knew that he was not +at home to-night, and, had he been so, I doubt if it would have stayed +me, for he is fair and square, and an unarmed man is safe with him in +his own house. He understands what a truce means, and we had one before." + +Mrs. Shields smiled at him in such warmth that he thanked his stars that +he had played fair out by the bowlder. + +"He told us of that!" Helen exclaimed, laughingly. "It was splendid of +you, both of you. And, do you know, I liked you much better for it. And +I wanted to meet you again and talk with you; I'm dreadfully curious." + +"Helen!" reproved her sister, and, turning from the girl to him, she tried +to explain away her sister's boldness. "You must excuse Helen, Mr.--Mr. +Orphan, because she is not a day older than she was five years ago." + +"Why, Mary!" cried Helen, reproachfully, "how can you say that? Just the +other day you said that I was quite grown up and dignified. I am sure that +Mr.--oh, goodness, there's that name again!" she bewailed. "Why don't you +get another name--that one sounds so funny!" + +The Orphan laughed: "I am not responsible for the name, I had no hand in +it. But, let's see what we can do," he said, counting on his fingers. +"There's Smith, Brown, Jones--Jones sounds well, why not say it?" he asked +gravely. "I am sure that's easier to say and remember." + +"Yes, that _is_ better!" she cried. "Let's see," she said, experimenting. +"Mr. Jones, Mr. Jones--oh, pshaw, I like the other much better. I trust +that I'll get accustomed to it in time, and I certainly should, because I +hear it enough; only then it hasn't that formal Mister before it. And it +is the Mister that causes all the trouble. Now, I'll try it again: I'm +sure that The Orphan (I said that real nicely, didn't I?) I'm sure that +The Orphan doesn't think me lacking in dignity, does he?" she asked, +regarding him merrily, and with a dare in her eyes. + +"Well, now really," he began, and then, seeing the look of warning in her +face, he laughed softly. "Why, really, I think that you must be much more +dignified than you were five years ago." + +"That's such a neat evasion that I hardly know whether to be angry or +not," she retorted, and then turned to Miss Ritchie, who was smiling. + +"Grace," she cried, "for goodness sake, say something! You don't want me +to do all the talking, do you?" and before her friend could say a word +she began a new attack, her eyes sparkling at the fun she was having. + +"What have you done since I told you to behave yourself?" she asked, +assuming a judicial seriousness which was extremely comical. + +He laughed heartily, for she was so droll, her eyes flashing so with +vivacity, and so rarely beautiful that he breathed deep in unconscious +effort to absorb some of the atmosphere she had created. And he was not +alone in his mirth, for Helen's audacity had caused smiles to come to +Miss Ritchie and Mrs. Shields, who were content to take no part in the +conversation, and even Mary forgot to be serious. + +"Well, I haven't had time to do much," he replied in humble apology, +"although I have been occupied in a desultory way on the Cross Bar-8 for +a week, and before that I was quite busily engaged in traveling for my +health. You see, this climate occasionally affects me, and I am forced +to go south or west for a change of air. I was just starting out on my +last trip when I first met you, and I have reason to believe that my +promptness in leaving you saved me much annoyance. But I have cooked +quite a few meals in the interim--and I've learned how mutton should be +broiled, too. I'll have to confess, however, that I have been out late +nights. But then, I'll have a better record to report next time, honest I +will." + +Helen leveled an accusing finger at him: "You spoiled all the cooking +utensils on that ranch, and you scared that poor cook so bad that he fled +in terror of his life and left those poor, tired men to get all their +own meals. Now, that was not right, do you see? The poor cook, he was +almost frightened to death. I am almost ashamed of you; you will have +to promise that you will not do anything like that again." + +"I promise, cross my heart," he replied eagerly, thinking of the five dead +punchers she had been kind enough to overlook. "I solemnly promise never +to scare that cook again," then seeing that she was about to object, he +added, "nor any other cook." + +"And you'll promise not to spoil any more tins, or terrorize that poor +outfit, or burn any more corrals, and everything like that?" she asked +quickly, for she detected a trace of seriousness in his face and wished to +drive home her advantage. If she could get a serious promise from him she +would rest content, for she knew he would keep his word. + +He thought for an instant and then turned a smiling face to her. Seeing +veiled entreaty in her eyes, he suddenly felt a quiet gladness steal over +him. Perhaps she really cared about his welfare, after all, though he +dared not hope for that. He grew serious, and when he spoke she knew that +he had given his word. + +"I promise not to take the initiative in any warfare, nor to harass the +Cross Bar-8 unless they force me to in self-defense," he replied. + +She hid her elation, for she had gained the point her brother had failed +to win, and did not wish to risk anything by showing her feelings. As +if to reward him for yielding to her, she led the conversation from the +personal grounds it had assumed and cleverly got him to talk about the +country and everything pertaining to it. + +He was thoroughly at ease now, and for an hour held them interested by +his knowledge of the trails and the natural phenomena. He told them of +cattle herding, its dangers and sports; and his description of a stampede +was masterly. He recounted the struggles of the first settlers with +the Indians, and even quite extensively covered the field of practical +prospecting, lightening his story with naive bits of humor and witty +personal opinions which had them laughing heartily. It was not long before +they forgot that they were entertaining, or, rather, being entertained by +an outlaw; and as for himself, it was the most pleasant evening he had +ever known. There was such an air of friendliness and they were so natural +and human that he was stimulated to his best efforts; the barriers had +been broken down. + +"Oh, James says that you are a wonderful shot!" cried Helen, interrupting +his description of a shooting match at a cowboy carnival he had once +attended in a northern town. "He says that no man ever lived who could +hope to beat you with either rifle or revolver, six-shooter, as he calls +it. Won't you let me see you shoot, some day?" + +He laughed deprecatingly: "You ask the sheriff to shoot for you," he +responded. "He can beat me, I'm sure." + +"No, he can't!" she cried impulsively, "because he said he couldn't. That +was why he couldn't get you--" she stopped, horrified at what she had +said. Then, determined to make the best of it, and knowing that excuses +or apologies would make it worse, she hurriedly continued: "He says that +you are so fair and square that he just will not take any advantage of +you. He likes square people, and he isn't afraid to say it, either." + +The Orphan sat silently for half a minute, thinking hard, while Mrs. +Shields looked anxiously at him. Here was peace and happiness. The +sheriff could come and go as he pleased, and every good citizen was +his friend. He had a home--a pleasant contrast to the man who spent his +nights under the stars, not sure of his life from day to day, hounded +from point to point, having no friend, no one who cared for him; he +was just an outlaw, and damned by his fellow men. Then he remembered what +Helen had said before leaving him at the coach. She had faith in him, for +she had told him so--and she would not lie. Her kindness and faith in +him, an outcast, had been with him in his thoughts ever since, and he had +felt the loneliness of his life heavily from that day. He felt a strange +gnawing at his heart and he slowly raised his eyes to her, eagerly +drinking in her radiant beauty, a beauty wonderful to him, for never +before had he seen a beautiful woman. To him women had always been +repellent--and no wonder. He scorned those usually found in the cow +towns. At their best they were only ornaments, and to The Orphan's +mind ornaments were trash. But now he suddenly awoke to the fact that +she was more, that she was all that was worth fighting for, that she +was the missing half of his consciousness. And she herself had given him +heart for the fight, slight as it was, for he was like a drowning man +clutching at straws. But still his cynicism swayed him and made him +fear that it would be a hopeless battle. Again he thought of her brother +and suddenly envied him, and the liking he had felt for the sheriff +became strong and clear. Shields was a white man, just and square. + +He slowly raised his eyes to Mrs. Shields and smiled, which caused her +look of anxiety to clear. + +"The Sheriff is the whitest man in this whole country," he said quietly, +a trace of his mood being in his voice, "and only for that did I play +square with him. In confidence, just to let you know that I am not as +bad as people say, I will tell you that I have had him under my sights +more than once, and that I will never try to harm him while he remains +the man he is. I do not exaggerate when I say that I am naturally a good +judge of men, and I knew what he was in less than a minute after I met him. + +"At this minute he is watching for me, he and Charley Winter and the +Larkin brothers. They are lying quietly out on the plain, waiting for +me to show up between them and the lights of the windows. This is not +guesswork, for I know it. And if it was only the sheriff, and I did show +up over his sights, he would call out and give me a chance to surrender +or fight, and not shoot me down like a dog; the others wouldn't. And +because of my faith in his squareness, and because I above all others +can fully appreciate it at its highest value, I am going to ask you to +remember this, Mrs. Shields: If he ever needs a man to stand at his +back, and I can be found, he has only to let me know. He is compromising +himself with certain people because he has been fair to me, so please +remember what I said. He is the sheriff, and he only does his duty, +for which I cannot blame him. Bill Howland may be able to find me if +trouble should come upon you and yours. + +"Others have hunted for me as if I was a cattle-killing wolf. They have +tracked me and hounded me in gangs, determined to shoot me down at the +first opportunity, and unawares, if possible. They have laid traps for +me, tried to ambush me, and even stooped so low as to poison the water +of a remote water hole with wolf poison--strychnine. They knew that I +occasionally filled my canteen from it. Those who fight me foully I repay +in kind--but never with poison! It is my wits and gunplay against theirs +and against their cowardice and dirty tricks. When I fight, it is not +because I want to, except in the case of Indians, but because I must. +But your husband is a white man, madam, a thoroughbred. He stands so far +above the rest of the men in this country that I have only respect and +liking for him. Can you imagine the sheriff using poison to kill a man? + +"Once when I had finally found a good berth punching cows, once when I had +started out aright, I was discovered. They didn't get me, though they +tried to hard enough. And they call me a murderer because I declined to +remain inactive while they prepared for my funeral! Ever since I was a +lad of fifteen I have fought for my life at every turn, and continually. +I have no friends, not a living soul cares whether I live or die. There is +no one whom I can trust, and no one who trusts me. I have to be ever on +the lookout, and suspicious. Every man is my enemy, and all I have is +my life, worthless as it is. But pride will not let me lose it without +making a fight. + +"I hope the time will come when you can see me shoot, Miss Shields, that +the time will come when I can turn my back to my fellow men without +fearing a shot. Only once have I done that--it was with your brother, and +I enjoyed it immensely. And no one will welcome that day more devoutly +than the outlawed Orphan--the many times murderer--but by necessity: +for I never killed a man unless he was trying to kill me, and I never +will. I know what is _said_, but what I say is the truth. I can only ask +you to believe me, although I realize that I am asking much." + +He arose and walked over to his sombrero, taking it up and turning toward +the door. + +"To-night is the first time in ten years that I have been in a stranger's +house unarmed, and at ease. You have made the evening so pleasant for +me, so delightfully strange, and you all have been so good to talk to me +and treat me white that I find it impossible to thank you as I wish I +could. Words are hopelessly inadequate, and more or less empty, but you +will not lose by it," he said as he opened the door. "Good night, ladies." + +The door closed softly, quickly, and the women heard the cantering +hoofbeats of his horse as they grew fainter and finally died out on the +plain. + +His departure was seemingly unnoticed. They sat in silence for a minute +or more, each lost in her own thoughts, each deeply affected by his +words, staring before them and picturing each as her temperament +guided, the hunted man's dangers and loneliness. Mrs. Shields sat as he +had left her, her chin resting in her hand, seeing only two men in a +chaparral, one of whom was the man she loved. She could hear the +shooting and the war cries, she could see them meet, and clasp hands at +the parting; and her heart filled with kindly pity for the outcast, a +pity the others could not know. Helen, her face full in the light, her +arms outstretched on the table before her and her eyes moist, wondered at +the savage unkindness of men, the almost unbelievable harshness of +man for man. Her head dropped to her arms, and her sister Mary, also +under the spell, wondered at the expression she had seen on Helen's +face. Miss Ritchie, who had scarcely given more than a passing thought +to the sadness in his words, was picturing his fights, drinking in the +dash and courage which had so exalted him in her mind. With all his +loneliness, his danger, she almost envied him his devil-may-care, humorous +recklessness and good fortune, his superb self-confidence and prowess. +Here was a man who fought his own battles, who stood alone against the +best the world sent against him, giving blow for blow, and always +triumphing. + +Mrs. Shields stirred, glanced at Helen's bowed head and sighed: + +"Now I understand why James likes him so. Poor boy, I believe that if he +had a chance he would be a different and better man. James is right; he +always is." + +"I think he is just splendid!" cried Miss Ritchie with a start, emerging +from her dreams of deeds of daring. "Simply splendid! Don't you Helen?" +she asked impulsively. + +Helen arose and walked to the door of her room, turning her face toward +the wall as she passed them: "Yes, dear," she replied. "Good night." + +"Oh, why are men so cruel!" she cried softly as she paused before her +mirror. "Why must they fight and kill one another! It's awful!" + +The door had softly opened and closed and Miss Ritchie's arms were around +her neck, hugging tightly. + +"It _is_ awful, dear," she said. "But they can't kill _him!_ They can't +hurt him, so don't you care. Come on to bed--I have _so_ much to talk +about! Don't put your hair up to-night, Helen--let's go right to bed!" + +Helen impulsively kissed her and pushed her away, her face flushed. + +"You dear, silly goose, do you think I am worrying about him? Why, I had +forgotten him. I'm thinking about James." + +"Yes, of course you are," laughed Miss Ritchie. "I was only teasing you, +dear. But it _is_ too bad that nobody cares anything about him, isn't it, +Helen?" + +Tears trembled in Helen's eyes and she turned quickly toward the bed. +"Well, it's his own fault--oh, don't talk to me, Grace! Poor James, all +alone out there on that awful plain! I'm just as blue as I can be, so +there!" + +"Have a good, long cry, dear," suggested Miss Ritchie. "It does one _so_ +much good," she added as she stepped before the mirror. "But I think he is +just as splendid as he can be--I wish I was a man like him!" + +And while they played at pretending, the man who was uppermost in their +thoughts was playing a joke on the sheriff at the Cross Bar-8 which would +open that person's eyes wide in the morning. + + . . . . . + +On the ranch the darkness was intense and no sounds save the natural +noises of the night could be heard. The sky was overcast with clouds and +occasionally a drop of rain fell. The haunting wail of a distant coyote +quavered down the wind and the cattle in the corral were restless and +uneasy. A mounted man suddenly topped a rise at a walk and then stopped +to stare at the dim lights in the windows of the houses nearly a mile +away. He laughed softly at the foolishness of the inmates trying to +plot for _his_ death by doing something they had not dared to do for a +week. Who would be so foolish as to ride up to those lighted windows +unless he was a tenderfoot? + +Leaping lightly to the grass, he hobbled his horse and then took a bundle +from his saddle, which he strapped on his back and then went quietly +forward on foot, peering intently into the darkness before him. Soon he +dropped to his hands and knees and crawled cautiously and without a +sound. After covering several hundred yards in this manner he dropped +to his stomach and wriggled forward, his eyes strained for dangers. A +quarter of an hour elapsed, and then he heard a sneeze, muffled and +indistinct, but still a sneeze. Avoiding the place from whence it came, he +made a wide detour and finally stopped, chuckling silently. Untying +the bundle he removed it from his back and placed it upon a pile of +sand, which he heaped up for the purpose, and, printing his name in the +sand at its base, retreated as he had come and without mishap. After +searching for a quarter of an hour for his horse he finally found it, +removed the hobbles and vaulted to the saddle. Wheeling, he rode off at +a walk, soon changing to a canter, in the direction of the Limping +Water. When he had gained it he chanced the danger of quicksands and rode +north along the middle of the stream. If he was to be followed, the +probability was that his pursuers would ride south to find where he had +left the water; and they must be delayed as long as possible. + +An hour later daylight swiftly developed and a peculiarly shaped pile +of sand quaked and split asunder as a man arose from it. He shook himself +and spent some time in digging the sand from his pockets and boots and +in cleaning his rifle of it. Then he walked wearily toward the bunk-house, +whose occupants were still lost in the sleep of the exhausted. It was very +tedious to stay awake all night peering at the lights in the distant +windows; and it was very hard to keep one's eyes from closing when lying +in that position, and without any sleep for twenty-four hours. The +sheriff determined to crawl into a bunk as soon as he possibly could and +be prepared for his next vigil. + +As he glanced over the plain he espied something which caused him to stare +and rub his tired eyes, and which immediately banished sleep from his +mind. Running to it, he suddenly stopped and swore: "Hell!" he shouted. + +His wife's blue flower pot sat snugly on the apex of a pile of sand and +from it arose a geranium, which was tied to a supporting stick by a white +ribbon. He had whittled that stick himself, and he knew the flower pot. +Roughly traced in the sand at its base was one word--"Orphan." + +"Margaret's geranium in its blue pot, by God!" cried the sheriff, his +mouth open in amazement. "Well, I'll be d----d!" he exclaimed, running +toward the corral for his horse. "If that son-of-a-gun ain't been out +here under my very nose while I watched for him!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A VOICE FROM THE GALLERY + + +Matters were fast coming to a head as far as the sheriff and the Cross +Bar-8 were concerned. The loss of the five men who had won the friendship +of their fellows, the reign of terror caused by the outlaw, the loss +of their cook, the devastation and the extra work had only deepened the +hatred which the members of the outfit held for The Orphan; and it went +farther than The Orphan. + +Sneed was not long in learning what took place at the stage and of the +driver's loyalty to the outlaw, because Bill would talk; and the working +of his mind was the same as that of his men, for it followed the line of +least resistance. Questions of the nature of arraignments, and which +were answerable by the outfit in only one way, constantly presented +themselves in the minds of the men. They asked themselves why it was +that a man of the sheriff's proven courage, marksmanship and cleverness +should fail to get the man who so terrorized the ranch. Why was the +sheriff so apparently reluctant to take up the chase in earnest and push +it to a finish? Why was he so firm against the assistance of the ranchmen? +Why did he keep to his determination to allow no lynch law when the +evil was so great and the danger so pressing? And he was prepared to go +to great lengths to see that his orders were not disobeyed, as proven by +the scene at the corral. Why could he not have overlooked one lynching +party when property was being destroyed and lives in danger? And why had +the outrages suddenly ceased when Shields took charge of the defense of +the ranch?--there had been no molestation, not a shot had been fired, +not a cow killed. And how was it that a flower pot, which Shields had +admitted as belonging to his wife, had been placed at a point hardly two +hundred yards in front of the peace officer as he lay on guard? It was +true that it was out of line of him and the lights, but that could be +explained by events. From whom did The Orphan learn of the trap set for +him, and all of its details, even to the placing of the men, enabling him +to avoid the eager deputies and choose the position occupied by the +sheriff when he had so recklessly flaunted his contempt from a pile +of sand? + +The cowboys were naturally enough warped and prejudiced because of +their blind rage and hatred, and the questions which ran so riotously +through their minds found their answers waiting for them; in fact, the +answers induced the questions, and each recurrence gave them added +weight until they ceased to be questions and became, in reality, +statements of facts. Bill had talked too much when he had told in +careful detail of the attentions shown The Orphan by the sheriff's +sister; and to minds eager for confirmation of their suspicions this was +the crowning proof of the double dealing of the sheriff. And to make +matters worse, Tex Williard, who was as unscrupulous a man as ever wore +the garb of honesty, had tried to force his attentions on Helen when +she rode for exercise. His ideas of women had been developed among +those who frequented frontier bar-rooms, and he was enraged at his +rebuff, which had been sharp and final. She actually preferred a murdering +outlaw to a hardworking cowboy! His profane oratory as to the collusion, +or at least passive sympathy between the sheriff and the outlaw found +eager ears and receptive minds awaiting the torch of initiative, and it +was not long before low-voiced consultations began to plan a drastic +course of action. Credit must be given to Sneed, because he knew only of +the natural discontent and nothing of what was in the wind. Had he +known what was brewing he would have stamped it out with no uncertain +force, for he was wise enough to realize the folly of increasing the +antagonism which already was held by Ford's Station for his ranch. + +At first the conspirators had hopes of undermining Shields among the +citizens of the town, not knowing the feeling there as well as their +foreman knew it, but they were wise enough to go about it cautiously; +and the returns justified their caution, for they found the inhabitants +of Ford's Station unassailably loyal to the peace officer. To accuse +him, either directly or by suggestion, of double dealing would be to array +the two score inhabitants of the town on his side in hot and belligerent +partisanship, and this they wished to avoid by all means, for they had no +stomach for such a war as might easily follow. They then hit upon what +appeared to them to be an excellent plan, inasmuch as it was indirect and +would give the results desired; and the medium was to be the driver. + +The talkative one had shown more than passing friendliness for The +Orphan, and they had his boasting words for it and he could not deny it, +for Bill was very proud of the part he had played on that memorable day, +and he took delight in recounting the conversation he had held with the +outfit at the coach--and he had a way of adding to the tartness of his +repartee in its repetition. Tex Williard reasoned from experience that it +would not appear at all strange and unusual for Bill to be called to +account for his friendliness and assistance to the outlaw and for his +contemptuous words concerning the cowboys if it was done by some member or +members of the ranch as a personal affair and without the appearance +of being sanctioned by the foreman. And through the driver he hoped to +strike at Shields, for the sheriff would not remain passive in such an +event; and once he was drawn into a brawl, hot tempers or accident +would be the plea if he should be killed. The apologies and remorse of +the sorrowful participants could be profound. And thus was cold-blooded +murder planned by the very men who reviled The Orphan because they claimed +he was a murderer, and who cried aloud for his death on that charge. + +Tex was the ringleader and in his own way he was not without cunning, +and neither was he lacking in daring. He selected his assistants for the +game with cool, calculating judgment. The three he finally decided upon +were reckless and not lacking in intelligence and physical courage for +such work. After having made his selection he sounded them carefully +and finally made his plans known, going into minute rehearsal of every +phase and detail of the game with thoughtful care and studied sequence. +When he believed them to be well drilled he fixed upon the time and place +and caused word to get to Bill that he might expect trouble for his +assistance to The Orphan, and for having had a hand in sending the five +cowboys to their deaths. The news immediately reached the ears of the +sheriff, who determined to see that Bill received no injury at the hands +of the Cross Bar-8. He quietly made up his mind to be near the stage +route on the days when Bill drove through the defile of the Backbone, +and to be within call if he should be needed. If he should think it +necessary, he would even go so far as to become a regular passenger +in the coach until the trouble died down. To the masterly driving and +cool-headed courage of Bill no less than to the daring and accuracy of +The Orphan was the sheriff indebted for the lives of his sisters; and +the protection of Bill clove close to the line of duty, and not one +whit less to the line of law and order. + +Bill laughed and boasted and made a joke of the thought of any danger +from the malcontents of the Cross Bar-8, and flatly refused to allow the +sheriff to ride with him. He talked volubly until the agent profanely +sent him on his journey, and he tore through the streets of the town in +the same old way. He forded the Limping Water in safety and crossed the +ten mile stretch of open plain without a sign of trouble. As he left the +water of the stream the sheriff started after him from town, intending to +be not far behind him when he entered the rough country. + +When Bill plunged into the defile through the Backbone he began to grow a +little apprehensive, and he intently watched each stretch of the road as +each successive turn unfolded it to his sight. His foot was on the brakes +and he was braced to stop the rush of his team at the first glimpse of an +obstruction, or to tear past the danger if he could. One coyote yell and +one snap of the whip would send the team wild, for they remembered well. + +All was nice until he neared the place where The Orphan had held him up +for a smoke, and it was there the trouble occurred. As he swung around +the sharp turn he saw four cowboys bunched squarely in the center of the +trail and at such a distance from him that to attempt to dash past them +would be to lay himself open to several shots. They had him covered, and +as he grasped the situation Tex Williard rode forward and held up his hand. + +"Stop!" Tex shouted. "Get down!" + +"What in thunder do you want?" Bill asked, setting the brakes and stopping +his team, wonder showing on his face. + +"Yu!" came the laconic reply. "Get down!" + +"What's eating you?" Bill asked in no uncertain inflection. Had Tex been +less imperative and kept the insulting tone out of his words Bill might +have had time to become afraid, but the sting made him leap over fear to +anger; and genuine anger takes small heed of fear. + +Tex motioned to one of his men, who instantly leaped to the ground and +ran to the turn, where he knelt behind a rock, his rifle covering the back +trail. Then Tex returned to the driver. + +"Curiosity is eating me, yu half-breed!" he cried. "GET DOWN! d----n yu, +GET DOWN!! Don't wait all day, neither, do yu hear? What th' h--l do yu +think I'm a-talkin' for!" + +"Well, I'll be blamed!" ejaculated Bill, wrapping the reins about the +back of his seat. "Anybody would think you was the boss of the earth to +hear you! You ain't no road agent, you're only a fool amature with more +gall than brains! But I'll tell you right here and now that if you _are_ +playing road agent, I wouldn't be in your fool boots for a cool million. +And if you are joking you are showing d----d bad taste, and don't you +forget it. You're holding up a sack of U. S. mail, and if you don't know +what that means----" + +"Shut yore face! Yu talk when I ask yu to!" shouted Tex as the driver +dropped to the ground. "But since yore so unholy strong on th' palaver, +suppose yu just explains why yu are so all-fired friendly to Th' Orphant? +Suppose yu lisp why yu take such a peculiar interest in his health and +happiness. Come now, out with it--this ain't no Quaker meeting." + +"Warble, birdie, warble!" jeered one of the cowboys. "Sing, yu ---- ----!" + +"We're shore waitin', darlin'," jeered another. "Tune up an' get started, +Windy." + +"Well, since you talks like that," cried Bill, stung to reckless fury at +the cutting contempt of the words, "you can go to h--l and find out from +your fool friends!" he shouted, beside himself with rage. "Who are you to +stick me up and ask questions? It's none of your infernal business who +I like, you hog-nosed tanks! Why didn't you bring some decent men with +you, you flat-faced skunks? Why didn't you bring Sneed! White men would +a told you just what you are if you asked them to help you in your dirty +work, wouldn't they? Even a tin-horn gambler, a crooked cheat, would +give me more show for my money than you have, you bowlegged coyotes! +Ain't you man enough to turn the trick alone, Williard? Can't you play +a lone hand in ambush, you bob-tailed flush of a bad man! You're only a +lake-mouthed, red-headed wart of a two-by-four puncher, that's what----" + +Tex had been stunned by surprise at such an outburst from a man whom he +had always regarded as woefully lacking in courage. Then his face flamed +with an insane rage at the taunting insults hurled venomously at him and +he sprang to action as though he had been struck. It would have been bad +enough to hear such words from an equal, but from Bill! + +"Yu cur!" he yelled as he leaped forward into the tearing sting of the +driver's whip, which had been hanging from the wrist. + +"You're the fourth dog I cut to-day," Bill said, jerking it back for +another try. + +Tex shivered with pain as the lash cut through his ear, as it would have +cut through paper, and screamed his words as he avoided the second blow. +"I'll show yu if I am man enough! I'll kill yu for that, d----n yu!" + +As Tex threw his arms wide open to clinch, Bill leaped aside and drove +his heavy fist into the cowman's face as he passed, knocking him sidewise +against the wall of the defile; and then struggled like a madman in the +toils of two ropes. He was a Berserker now, a maniac without a hope +of life, and he screamed with rage as he tore frantically at the rough +hair ropes, wishing only to destroy, to kill with his bare hands. The blow +had not been well placed, being too high for the vital point, but it had +smashed the puncher's nose flat to his face and one eye was fast losing +its resemblance to the other. Tex staggered to his feet and returned +to the attack, striking savagely at the face of the bound man. Bill +avoided the blow by jerking his head aside and snarled like a beast +as he drove the heel of his heavy boot into his enemy's stomach. Then +everything grew black before his eyes and a roaring sound filled his +ears. The rope slackened and the men who had thrown him head-first on a +rock leaped from their horses and ran to him. + +When his senses returned he found himself bound hand and foot and under a +spur of rock which projected from the bank of the cut. His face was cut +and bruised and his scalp laid open, but through the blood which dripped +from his eyebrows he vaguely saw Tex, bent double and rocking back and +forth on the ground, intoned moans coming from him with a sound like that +made by a rasp on the edge of a box. + +As Bill's brain cleared he became conscious of excruciating pains in +his head, as if hammers were crashing against his skull. Glancing upward +he saw that a rope ran from his neck to the rock, over it and then to +the pommel of a saddle, and his face twitched as its meaning sifted +through his mind. Then he thought of the time The Orphan had held him +up in the defile--how unlike these men the outlaw was! If he would only +come now--what joy there would be in the flashing of his gun; what ecstasy +in the confusion, panic, rout that he would cause. He was dazed and +the throbbing, heavy, monotonous pain dulled him still more. He seemed +to be apart from his surroundings, to be an onlooker and not an actor +in the game. He wondered if that whip was his: yes, it must be . . . +certainly it was. He ought to know his own whip . . . of course it was +his. He regarded Tex curiously . . . there had been Indians, or was it +some other time? What was Tex doing there on the ground? He struggled to +think clearly, and then he knew. But the deadening pain was merciful +to him, it made him apathetic. Was he going to die? Perhaps, but what +of it? He didn't care, for then that pain wouldn't beat through him. Tex +looked funny. . . . He closed his eyes wearily and seemed to be far +away. He _was_ far away, and, oh, so tired! + +Tex finally managed to gain his feet and straighten up and revealed his +face, bloody and swollen and black from the blow. His words came with a +hesitation which suggested pain, and they were mumbled between split and +swollen lips. + +"Now, d----n yu!" he cried, brokenly, staggering to the helpless man +before him. "Now mebby yu'll talk! Why did yu help Th' Orphant? If yu +lie yu'll swing!" + +Bill swayed and his eyes opened, and after an interval he slowly and +wearily made reply, for his senses had returned again. + +"He saved my life," he said, "and I'll help--anybody for that." + +"Oh, he did, did he?" jeered Tex. "An' why? That ain't his way, helpin' +strangers at his own risk. Why?" + +"There was women--in the coach." + +"Oh, there was, hey?" ironically remarked Tex. "Mebby he wanted 'em all +to himself, eh?" + +"He's a white man, not a cur." + +"He's a cub of th' devil, that's what he is!" Tex cried. "He ain't no +orphant, not by a d----d sight--th' devil's his father, an' all hell is +his mother. Now, I want an answer to this one, and I want it quick: no lie +goes. Why don't th' sheriff get busy an' camp on his trail? What interest +has th' sheriff an' Th' Orphant in each other? Come on, out with it!" + +"I don't know," replied Bill, wishing that the sheriff was at hand to make +an appropriate answer. "Ask him, why don't you?" he asked, stretching his +neck to ease the hairy, bristling clutch of the lariat. + +"Oh, yu don't, an' yore still cheeky, eh?" cried the inquisitor. "An' yu +want yore d----d neck stretched, do yu?" + +He motioned to the man on the horse at the end of the rope and Bill +straightened up and daylight showed under his heels. As he struggled there +was an interruption from the man who covered the back trail: "'Nds up!" +he cried. "Don't move!" + +Tex signalled for Bill to be let down and ran backward to the opposite +side of the defile until he could see around the turn; and he discovered +the sheriff, who sat quietly under the gun of the cowboy. + +"Stop! Don't yu even wiggle!" cried the guard. "I'll blow yore head off +at the first move!" he added in warning; and for once in his eventful life +Shields knew that he was absolutely helpless, for the time, at least. +His hands were clasped over his sombrero, for it would be tiresome to hold +them out, and he felt that he might have need of fresh, quick muscles +before long. + +"All right, all right, bub," he responded in perfect good nature, +apparently. "Don't get nervous and let that gun go off, for it's shore +your turn now," he added, smiling his war smile. "Any particular thing you +want, or are you just practicing a short cut to eternity?" + +"I want yu to stay just like yu are!" snapped the man with the drop. "And +yu keep yore mouth shut, too!" + +"Since it's your last wish, why, it goes," replied the sheriff, ignoring +the command for silence. "Got any message for your folks? Any keep-sakes +you'd like to have sent back East? Give me the address of your folks and +I'll send them your last words, too." + +"That's enough, Sheriff," said Tex, moving cautiously forward behind his +leveled Colt. "I'll do all th' talkin' that's necessary; yu just listen +for a while." + +"Well, well," replied the sheriff, grinning and simulating surprise. "If +here ain't Tex Williard, too! What's your pet psalm, sonny? Good God, +what a face!" + +"What's that got to do with this?" asked Tex, intently watching for war. + +"Oh, nothing, nothing at all," replied the sheriff. "But, Lord, that +cayuse of yours can shore kick! Was you tickling it? They do go off like +that some times. Any of your nose coming out the back of your head yet? +But to reply to your touching inquiry, I'll say that the psalm might +work in handy after while, that's all. If you'll only tell me, I'll see +that it is sung over your grave. But, honest, how did you get that face?" + +"That'll just about do for yu!" cried the cowboy, angrily. "An' sit still, +yu!" he added. + +"Say, bub," confidentially said Shields, "my stomach itches like blazes. +Can't I scratch it, just once?" + +"No! Think I'm a fool!" yelled Tex, his finger tightening on the trigger. +"Yu sit still, d----n yu!" + +"Well, I only wanted to see just how much of a fool you really are," +grinned the sheriff exasperatingly. "Judging from your present position +I must say that I thought you didn't have any sense at all, but now I +reckon you've got a few brains after all. But suppose you scratch it +for me, hey? Just rub it easy like with your left paw." + +Tex swore luridly, too tense to realize what a fool the sheriff was making +of him. He could think of only one thing at a time, and he was thinking +very hard about the sheriff's hands. + +"Tut, tut, don't take it so hard," jeered the sheriff, smiling pleasantly. +"Now that I know that you are some rational, suppose you tell me the joke? +What's the secret? Who skinned his shin? What in thunder is all this +artillery saluting me for?" + +"Since yu want to know, I'll tell yu, all right," replied Tex. "Why are yu +an' Th' Orphant so d----d thick? Don't be all day about it?" + +"You d----d excuse!" responded the sheriff. "You mere accident! As the +poet said, it's none of your business! Catch that?" + +"Yes, I caught it," retorted Tex. "I reckon we needs a new sheriff, an' +d----d soon, too," he added venomously. + +"Well, people don't always get what they need," replied Shields easily. +"If they did, you would get yours right now, and good and hard, too," he +explained, making ready to put up the hardest fight of his life. Three +men had him covered, and he knew they would all shoot if he made a move, +for they had placed themselves in a desperate situation and could not back +out now. He knew that never before had he been in so tight a hole, but he +trusted to luck and his own quickness to crawl out with a whole skin. If +he was killed, he would have company across the Great Divide; of that +he was certain. + +"I reckon I'll take yore guns for a while, just to be doin' somethin'," +Tex said as he advanced a step. "Mebby that itch will go away then." + +"I reckon you'll be a d----n sight wiser if you don't force matters, for +they are purty well forced now," Shields replied. "No man gets my guns' +butts first without getting all mussed up inside. You'll certainly be +doing something if you try it." + +"Well, then," compromised Tex, "answer my question!" + +"And no man gets an answer to a question like that in words," the sheriff +continued, as if there had been no interruption. "But I'll give you and +your white-faced bums a chance for your lives--and I don't wonder The +Orphan shot up Jimmy, neither. Put up your wobbling guns and get out of +this country as fast as God will let you! If you ever come back I'll fill +you plumb full of lead! It's your move, Lovely Face, and the quicker you +do it the better it'll be for your health." + +[Illustration: "'The less you count the longer you'll live!' said Shields" +(See page 192.)] + +"Oh, I don't know about that," replied Tex with a leer and swagger. "To a +man up a tree it looks like yu are up agin a buzz saw this time." + +"To a man on the ground it looks like your tin buzz saw has hit the +hardest knot it ever struck, and you'll feel the jar purty soon, too," +Shields countered, his hazel eyes beginning to grow red. "You put up that +gun and scoot before I blow your d----d head off!" + +"I'll give yu 'til I counts three to answer my question," Tex said, +ignoring the advice. "One!" + +"The less you count the longer you'll live," said Shields, gripping his +horse with his knees in readiness to jump it sideways. + +"Two!" + +"Afternoon, gents," said a pleasant voice up above them, and all jumped +and looked up. As they did so Shields jerked his guns loose and laughed +softly: "That itch has plumb gone away," he said. "It's a new deal," he +exulted, his face wreathed in grins. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +A NEW DEAL ALL AROUND + + +On the edge of the bank, thirty feet above them, a man squatted on his +heels, his forearms resting easily on his knees. In each hand was a +long-barreled Colt, held in a manner oppressively businesslike. One of +the guns was leveled at the stomach of the man who guarded Bill, and +who still held the rope; the other covered the man who had baited the +sheriff. Shields took care of the remaining two. One of the newcomer's +eyes was half closed, squinting to keep out the smoke which curled up +from the cigarette which protruded jauntily from a corner of his mouth. +If anything was needed to strengthen the air of pertness of the man +above it was supplied by his sombrero, which sat rakishly over one +ear. A quizzical grin flickered across his face and the cigarette bobbed +recklessly when he laughed. + +"Was you counting?" he asked of Tex in anxious inquiry. "And for God's +sake, who stepped on your face?" + +Tex made no reply, for his astonishment at the interruption had given way +to the iron hand of fear which gripped him almost to suffocation. In +the space of one breath he had been hurled from the mastery to defeat; +from a good fighting chance, with all the odds on his side, to what +he believed to be certain death, for to move was to die. Had it been +anyone but The Orphan who had turned the scale he would have hazarded a +shot and trusted to luck, for his gun was in his hand; but The Orphan's +gunplay was as swift as light and never missed at that distance, and +The Orphan's reputation was a host in itself. He had threatened the +sheriff with death, he had used Bill worse than he would have used a +dog, and now his cup of bitterness was full to overflowing. Above him a +pair of cruel gray eyes looked over a sight into his very soul and a +malevolent grin played about the thin, straight lips of the man who +had killed Jimmy, who had led his five friends to an awful death, and +who had instilled terror night after night into the hearts of seven good +men. His mind leaped back to a day ten years before, and what he saw +caused his face to blanch. Ten years of immunity, but at last he was to +pay for his crime. Before him stood the son of the man he had been +foremost in hanging, before him stood the man he had cruelly wronged. +His nerve left him and he stood a broken, trembling coward, a living lie +to the occupation he had made his own, an insult to his dress and his +companions. Had he by some miracle been given the drop he could not +have pulled the trigger. He now had no hope for mercy where he had +denied it. He had played a good hand, but he had made no allowance for +the joker, and no blame to him. + +No sooner had The Orphan spoken and the sheriff discovered that he had +things safely in his hands, than Shields had leaped to the ground and +quickly disarmed his opponents, tossing the captured weapons to the top +of the bank near the outlaw. Then he folded his arms and waited, laughing +silently all the while. + +As soon as Shields had disposed of the last gun, The Orphan gave his whole +attention to the man who was guarding Bill, and that person changed the +course of his hand just in time. + +"No, I wouldn't try to use that gun, neither, if I was you," The Orphan +said, still smiling. "You can just toss it up on the bank over your +head--that's right. Now drop that rope--I'm surprised that you didn't +do it before. When you get Bill all untangled from those fixings come +right around here, where I can see how nice you all look in a bunch. +It'll take you one whole minute to get out of sight around that turn, so I +wouldn't try any running." + +The Orphan was ignorant of the condition of Bill's face, since he had only +seen the driver's back as he had crawled to the edge of the bank, and now +the bend in the opposite wall just hid Bill from his sight. So he gave +no great attention to the driver, but turned to the sheriff and laughed. + +"I knew that you would pull through, Sheriff," he said, "but I couldn't +help having a surprise party; I'm a whole lot fond of surprise parties, +you know. And it's shore been a howling success, all right." + +"You have a very pleasant way of making yourself useful," Shields +replied. "From the holes you've pulled me out of within the past six +weeks you must have a poor impression of me. But seeing that you have +reason to laugh at me, I accept your apology and bid you welcome. It's +all yours." Then he glanced quickly up the trail and his face went red +with anger. "Hell!" he cried in amazement. + +The Orphan looked in the direction indicated and he leaped to his feet +in sudden anger at what he saw. A man, followed by a cowboy, staggered +and stumbled drunkenly along the trail toward them, his face a mass of +cuts and bruises and blood. His hair was matted with blood and dirt, and a +red ring showed around his neck. His hands opened and shut convulsively +and he made straight as he could for Tex, who shrank back involuntarily. + +"My God! It's Bill!" cried The Orphan, hardly able to believe his eyes. + +"You're the cur _I_ want!" Bill muttered brokenly to Tex, straightening up +and becoming rapidly steadier under the stimulus of his rage. "You're the +---- _I_ want, d----n you!" he repeated as he slowly advanced. "It's my +turn now, you cur! Lynch me, would you? Lynch me, eh? Tried to hit me when +I was tied, eh? Sicked your dogs on me, eh? Keep still, d----n you--you +can't get away!" he cried as Tex moved backward. + +"Stand to it like a man, or I'll blow your head off!" cried The Orphan +from his perch. "Go on, Bill!" + +"You said you wanted me, didn't you? Do you still want me?" he asked, not +hearing The Orphan's words. "Are you still curious?" he asked, backing +Tex into a corner. + +"Hash him up, Bill!" cried the man above, and then, "Hey, wait a minute--I +want to see this," he added as he slid down the bank. "Go ahead with the +slaughter--push his head off!" + +Bill's one hundred and eighty pounds of muscle and rage suddenly hurled +itself forward behind a huge fist and Tex hit the bank and careened into +the dust of the trail, unconscious before he had moved. + +"I told you you wasn't man enough to play a lone hand!" yelled the driver +as he leaped after his victim. But he was stopped by the sheriff, who +sprang forward and deflected him from his course. + +"That's enough--no killing!" Shields cried, regaining his balance and +swiftly interposing himself between the driver and Tex. + +Bill didn't hear him, for he had just caught sight of the man who had told +him to warble, and he lost no time in getting to him. A few quick blows +and the enraged driver left his second victim face down in the dirt and +passed on to the man who had held the rope. + +"Hurrah for Bill!" yelled The Orphan, hopping first on one foot and +then on the other in his joy. "Set 'em up in the other alley! I didn't +know you had it in you, Bill! Good boy!" he shouted as Bill clinched with +the third cowboy. "Oh, that was a beauty! Right on the nose--oh, what +a whopper to get on the jaw! Whoop her up! Fine, fine!" he laughed as +Bill dropped his man. "'And subsequent proceedings interested _him_ +no more!' Next!" he cried as Bill wheeled on the last of the group. "Eat +him up, Bill!--that's the way! Just above the belt for his--Good! All +down!" he yelled madly as Bill, drawing his arm back from the stomach of +the falling puncher, sent a swift uppercut hissing to the jaw. "You +lifted him five feet, Bill," The Orphan exulted as Bill wheeled for more +worlds to conquer. + +"Where's the rest of the gang?" savagely yelled the driver, looking twice +at The Orphan before he was sure of his identity. "Where's the rest of +'em?" he shouted again, running around the bend in hot search. "Come +out and fight, you cowards!" they heard him cry, and straightway the +outlaw and the guardian of the law clung to each other for support as +they cried with joy. + +As Bill hurried back to the field of carnage one of his victims was +mechanically striving to gain his hands and knees, to go down in a +quivering heap by a blow from the insane victor. As Bill drew back +his foot to finish his work, Shields broke from his companion and leaped +forward just in time to hurl Bill back several steps. "D----n you!" +he cried, standing over the prostrate figure, "If you hit another man +while he's down I'll trim you right! Cool down and get some sense before +I punch it into you!" + +The Orphan, leaning limply against the bank of the defile, was making +foolish motions with his hands, which still held the Colts, and was +babbling idiotically, tears of laughter streaming down his face and +dripping from his chin. His eyes were closed and he was bent over, rocking +to and fro against the wall. + +"Oh, Lord!" he sobbed senselessly. "Oh, Lord, oh, Lord! Let me die in +peace! Take him away, take him away! Let me die in peace!" + +"I'm a fine sight to hit Sagetown, ain't I?" yelled Bill, keeping keen +watch on the four prostrate punchers. "They'll think I was licked! +They'll point to my face and head and swear that some papoose kicked +the stuffing outen me! That's what they'll do! But I'll show them, all +right! I'll just take my game with me and prove that I am the best man, +that's what I'll do! I'll pile 'em in the coach and lug 'em with me!" +grabbing, as he finished, one of the men by the foot and dragging him +toward the stage. It took The Orphan and Shields several strenuous +minutes to dissuade him from his purpose. Shields placed his fingers on +the bones of Bill's hand in a peculiar grip, and the driver loosened +his hold without loss of time. + +"You go back to town and get fixed up," ordered the sheriff. "I'll take +your team out of this and turn them around, and then come back for you. +Charley can make the trip if you can't. I would do it myself, only I've +got to tell Sneed that he's shy four more men." + +"I'll turn 'em around myself--I ain't hurt," asserted Bill with decision. +"And when I get patched up I'll make the trip, Pop Westley or no Pop +Westley. And I'll lick the whole blamed town, too, if they get fresh +about my face! I'm a fighter from Fightersville, I am! I'm a man-eating +bad-man, I am! I can lick anything that ever walked on hind legs, I can!" +and he glared as if anxious to prove his words. + +After the cowboys regained consciousness and got so they could stand, the +sheriff lined them up with their backs to the wall and gave them the guns +which The Orphan had obtained for him. The outlaw held them covered while +the sheriff told them what they were, and he wound up his lecture with +instructions and a warning. + +"Get out of this country and don't never come back!" he told them. "I +don't care where you go, so long as you go right now. If you even show +your faces in these parts again I'll shoot first and talk after." + +"Same here!" endorsed The Orphan, frowning down his desire to laugh at +the wrecks in front of him. + +"I'll kill you next time!" shouted Bill, prancing uneasily. + +"The cayuses are yours," continued the sheriff. "I'll settle with Sneed if +he has the gall to ask about them. Now git!" + +Tex stared first at the sheriff and then at The Orphan and Bill as if +doubting his ears. He was ten years nearer the grave than he had been +before The Orphan had interrupted his counting. In less than half an hour +he had gone through hell, and now he suddenly burst into tears from the +reaction and staggered to his horse, which he finally managed to mount, a +nervous wreck. "Oh, God!" he moaned, "Oh, God!" + +The others stared at him in amazement until he had turned the bend, and +then his companions slowly followed him and were lost to sight. + +"D----n near dead from fright!" ejaculated the sheriff. "I never saw +anybody go to pieces so bad!" + +"He shore lost his nerve all right, all right," responded The Orphan. +Then he turned to where Bill stood looking after them: "Bill, you're all +right--you can fight like h--l!" + +Bill slowly turned and grinned through the blood: "Oh, that wasn't +nothing--you should oughter see me when I get real mad!" + + . . . . . + +Two men rode side by side after a lurching coach on their way toward the +Limping Water, both buried in thought at what the driver had told them. +As they emerged from the defile and left the Backbone behind, the elder +looked keenly, almost affectionately, at his companion and placed a kindly +hand on the shoulder of the man who had turned the balance, breaking the +long silence. + +"Son, why don't you get a job punching cows, or something, and quit your +d----d foolishness?" he bluntly asked. + +The younger man thought for a space, and a woman's words directed his +reply: + +"I've thought of that, and I'd like to do it," he said earnestly. "But, +pshaw, who will give me a try in this country?" he asked bitterly. Then +he added softly: "And I won't leave these parts, not now." + +"You won't have to leave the country," replied the sheriff. "Why not try +Blake, of the Star C?" he asked. "Blake is a shore square man, and he's a +good friend of mine, too." + +"Yes, I reckon he is square," replied The Orphan. "But he won't take no +stock in me, not a bit." + +"Tell him that you're a friend of mine, and that I sent you to punch for +him, and see," responded Shields, examining his cinch. + +"Do you mean that, Sheriff?" the other cried in surprise. + +"Hell, yes!" answered Shields gruffly. "I'll give you a note to him, and +if you watch your business you'll be his right-hand man in a month. I +ain't making any mistake." + +"By God, I'll do it!" cried the outlaw. "You're all right, Sheriff!" + +"Well, I don't know about that," replied Shields, grinning broadly. "Mebby +I just can't see the use of us shooting each other up, and that is what it +will come to if things go on as they are, you know. I'd a blamed sight +rather have you behaving yourself with Blake than bothering me with your +fool nonsense and raising the devil all the time. Why, it's got so that +every place I go I sort of looks for flower pots!" + +The Orphan laughed: "I shore had a fine time that night!" + +When half way to the Limping Water the sheriff said good-by to Bill and +wheeled, facing in the direction of the Cross Bar-8. + +"Orphan, you wait for me at the ford," he said. "I'm going up to break the +news to Sneed, and I'll get paper and pencil while I'm there, and write a +note to Blake. I'll get back as quick as I can--so long." + +"So long, and good luck," replied The Orphan, heartily shaking hands with +his new friend. + +Shields loped away and arrived at the ranch as Sneed was carrying water +to the cook shack. + +"Hullo, Sneed! Playing cook?" he said, pulling in to a stop. + +"I'll play _on_ the cook if I ever get my hands on him," replied Sneed, +setting the pail down. "Well, what's new? Seen Tex and the other three? +I'll play on _them_, too, when they gets home! Off playing hookey from +work when we all of us aches from double shifts--oh, just wait till I sees +'em sneaking in to bed! Just wait!" + +"You ought to give 'em all a good thrashing, they need it," replied the +sheriff, and then he asked: "Got any paper, and a pencil?" He wanted his +needs supplied before he broke the news, for then he might not get them. + +"Shore as you live I have," answered the foreman, picking up the pail and +starting toward the bunk-house. "Come in and wet the dust--it's hot out +here." + +"Let me have the paper first--I want to scrawl a note before I forget +about it," the sheriff responded as he seated himself on a bunk and looked +critically about him at the bullet-riddled walls and pictures. + +Sneed handed him an ink bottle and placed a piece of wrapping paper and +a corroded pen on the table. + +"That paper ain't for love letters, the ink is mud, and the pen's a +brush, but I reckon you can make tracks, all right," the host remarked as +he pushed a bench up to the table for his guest. "And if them punchers +don't make tracks for home purty lively, I'll salt their hides and peg +'em on the wall to cure," he grumbled, rummaging for a bottle and cup. +When he placed the tin cup on the table he grinned foolishly, for it +was plugged with a cork. "D----d outlaw!" he grunted. + +"There," remarked the sheriff, fanning the note in the air. "That's done, +if it'll ever dry." + +"Blow on it," suggested Sneed, and then smiled. + +"Here, wait a minute," he said, stepping to the door, where he scooped up +a handful of sand. "Throw this on it--it can't get no muddier, anyhow." + +Shields carefully folded the missive and tucked it in his hip pocket, and +then he looked up at the foreman. + +"Sneed," he slowly began, "your punchers ain't never coming back." + +"What!" yelled the foreman, leaping to his feet, and having visions of +his men being cut up by outlaws and Indians. + +"Nope," replied Shields with an air of finality. "Bill Howland gave them +the most awful beating up that I ever saw men get, the whole four of +them, too! When he got through with them I took a hand and ordered them to +get out of the country, and I told them that if they ever came back I'd +shoot on sight, and I will." + +Sneed's rage was pathetic, and was not induced by the beating his men +had received, nor by the sheriff's orders, but because it left him only +three men to work a ranch which needed twelve. As he listened to the +sheriff's story he paced back and forth in the small room and swore +luridly, kicking at everything in sight, except the sheriff. Then he +cooled down, spread his feet far apart and stared at Shields. + +"Why didn't you kill 'em, the d----d fools?" he cried. "That's what +they deserved!" Then he paused. "But what am I going to do?" he asked. +"Where'll I get men, and what'll I do 'til I do get 'em?" + +"I'll send Charley and half a dozen of the boys out from town to stay +with you 'til you get some others," replied the sheriff, walking toward +the door. "And you might tell the three that are left that I'll kill the +next man who tries that kind of work in this country. I'm getting good +and tired of it. So long." + +Sneed didn't hear him, but sat with his head in his hands for several +minutes after the sheriff had gone, swearing fluently. + +"Orphan h--l!" he yelled as he picked up the water pail and stamped to +the cook shack. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE STAR C GIVES WELCOME + + +The Limping Water, within a mile after it passed Ford's Station, turned +abruptly and flowed almost due west for thirty miles, where it again +proceeded southward. At the second bend stood the ranch houses and corrals +of the Star C, in a country rich in grass and water. Its cows numbered +far into the thousands and its horses were the best for miles around, +while the whole ranch had an air of opulence and plenty. Its ranch +house was a curiosity, for even now there were lace curtains in some of +the windows, badly torn and soiled, but still lace curtains; and on the +floors of several rooms were thick carpets, now covered with dust and +riding paraphernalia. Oddly shaped and badly scratched chairs were +piled high with accumulated trash, and the few gilt-framed paintings +which graced the walls were hanging awry and were torn and scratched. At +one time an Eastern woman had tried to live there, but that was when +the owner of the ranch and his wife had been enthusiasts. New York +regained and kept its own, and they now would rather receive quarterly +reports by mail than daily reports in person. The foreman and his wolf +hounds reigned supreme, not at all bothered by the stiff furniture and +lace curtains, because he would rather be comfortable than stylish, +and so lived in two rooms which he had fitted up to his ideas. Carpets and +two-inch spurs cause profanity and ravelings, and as for pictures, they +have a most annoying way of tilting when one hangs a six-shooter on +one corner of the frame, and they are so inviting that one is constantly +forgetting. So the unstable pictures, the dress-parade chairs, bothersome +curtains and clutching carpets were left under the dust. + +The Star C, being in a part of the country little traversed and crossed +by no trails, was removed from the zone of The Orphan's activities and +had no cause for animosity, save that induced by his reputation. Several +of its punchers had seen him, and all were well versed in his exploits, +for frequently Ford's Station shared its hospitality with one or more of +them; and in Ford's Station at that time The Orphan was the chief topic +of conversation and the bone of contention. But the foreman of the Star C +would not know him if he should see him, unless by intuition. + +Blake was a man much after the pattern of Shields in his ideas, and the +two were warm friends and had roughed it together when Ford's Station +had only been an adobe hut. Their affection for each other was of the +stern, silent kind, which seldom betrayed itself directly in words, +and they could ride together for hours in an understanding silence and +never weary of the companionship; and when need was, deeds spoke for +them. The Cross Bar-8 would have had more than Ford's Station to fight if +it had declared war on the sheriff, which the Cross Bar-8 knew. The +three cleverest manipulators of weapons in that section, in the order of +their merit, were The Orphan, Shields and Blake, which also the Cross +Bar-8 knew. + +The foreman of the Star C rode at a walk toward a distant point of his +dominions and cogitated as to whether he could ride over to Ford's +Station that night to see the sheriff. It was a matter of sixty miles for +the round trip, but it might have been sixty blocks, so far as the +distance troubled him. He had just decided to make the trip and to +spend a pleasant hour with his friend, and drink some of the delicious +coffee which Mrs. Shields always made for him and eat one of her prize +pies, or some of her light ginger bread, when he descried a horseman +coming toward him at a lope. + +[Illustration: The Orphan gives Blake Shields' note. (_See page_ +213.)] + +The newcomer was a stranger to Blake and appeared to be a young man, which +was of no consequence. But the thing which attracted more than a casual +glance from the foreman was a certain jaunty, reckless air about the man +which spoke well for the condition of his nerves and liver. + +The stranger approached to within a rod of Blake before he spoke, and then +he slowed down and nodded, but with wide-eyed alertness. + +"Howdy," he said. "Are you the foreman of the Star C?" + +"Howdy. I am," replied the foreman. + +"Then I reckon this is yours," said the stranger, holding out a bit of +straw-colored paper. + +The foreman took it and slowly read it. When he had finished reading he +turned it over to see if there was anything on the back, and then stuck +it in his pocket and looked up casually. + +"Are you The Orphan?" he asked, with no more interest than he would have +displayed if he had asked about the weather. + +"Yes," replied The Orphan, nonchalantly rolling another cigarette. + +"How is the sheriff?" Blake asked. + +"Shore well enough, but a little mad about the Cross Bar-8," answered the +other as he inhaled deeply and with much satisfaction. "He said there was +some good coffee waiting for you to-night if you wanted it," he added. + +"Did he?" asked Blake, grinning his delight. + +"Yes, and some--apricot pie," added The Orphan wistfully. + +Blake laughed: "Well, I reckon I've got some business over in town +to-night, so you keep on going 'til you get to the bunk house. Tell Lee +Lung to rustle the grub lively--I'll be there right after you. Apricot +pie!" he chuckled as he pushed on at a lope. + +Jim Carter was washing for supper, being urged to show more speed by +Bud Taylor, when the latter looked up and saw The Orphan dismount. His +mouth opened a trifle, but he continued his urging without a break. He +had seen The Orphan at Ace High the year before, when the outlaw had +ridden in for a supply of cartridges, and he instantly recalled the face. +But Bud was not only easy-going, but also very hungry at the time, and he +didn't care if the devil himself called as long as the devil respected the +etiquette of the range. Besides, if there was to be trouble it would rest +more comfortably on a full stomach. + +"Give me a quit-claim to that pan, yu coyote," he said pleasantly to Jim. +"Yu ain't taking no bath!" + +"Blub--no I ain't--blub blub--but you will be--blub--if yu don't lemme +alone," came from the pan. "Hand me that towel!" + +"Don't wallow in it, yu!" admonished Bud as he refilled the basin. "Leave +some dry spots for me, this time." + +Jim carefully hung the towel on a peg in the wall of the house and then +noticed the stranger, who was removing his saddle. + +"Howdy, stranger!" he said heartily. "Just in time to feed. Coax some of +that water from Bud, but get holt of the towel first, for there won't be +none left soon." + +The Orphan laughed and dusted his chaps. + +"Where'll I find Lee Lung?" he asked. "Blake wants him to rustle the grub +lively." + +"He's in the cook shack behind the house a-doing it and trying to sing," +replied Jim. "He's always trying to sing; it goes something like this: +Hop-lee, low-hop yum-see," he hummed in a monotonous wail as he combed +his hair before a broken bit of mirror stuck in a crack. "Hi-dee, hee-hee, +chop-chop----" + +"Gimme that comb, yu heathen Chinee," cried Bud, "and don't make that +noise." + +"Anything else yu wants?" asked Jim, deliberately putting the comb away +in the box. + +"I want to be in Kansas City with a million dollars and a whopper of a +thirst," replied Bud as he filled the basin for the stranger. "It's all +yourn, stranger. Grub's waiting for yu inside when yore ready." + +"Do yu know who that feller is?" Bud asked in a whisper as they made their +way to the table, from which came much laughter. "That's The Orphant," +he added. + +"Th' h--l it is!" said Jim. "Him? Him Th' Orphant? Tell another! I'm more +than six years old, even if yu ain't." + +"That's straight, fellers!" said Bud to the assembled outfit in a low +voice. "I ain't kidding yu none, honest. I saw him up to Ace High last +year. That's him, all right. Wait 'til he comes in and see!" + +"Well, I don't care if he's Jonah," responded Jim. "Only I reckons you're +plumb loco, all the same. But I'm too hungry to care if Gabriel blows if I +can fill up before these Oliver Twists eats it all up," he said, revealing +his last reading matter. + +"He shore enough wears his gun plumb low--and the holster is tied to his +chaps, too," muttered Jim as he seated himself at the table. "So would I, +too, if I was him. Pass them murphys, Humble," he ordered. + +"You has got to bust that piebald pet what you've been keeping around the +house to-morrow, Humble," exulted the man nearest to him. "And it'll shore +be a circus watching you do it, too!" + +The blankets which divided the bunk house into two rooms were pushed aside +and The Orphan entered, carrying his saddle and bridle, which he placed +beside the others on the floor. Then he unbuckled his belts and hung +them, Colts and all, over the pommel, which was etiquette and which gave +assurance that the guest was not hunting anyone. Then he seated himself +at the table in a chair which Humble pushed back for him. His entry in +no degree caused a lull in the conversation. + +"Well, you hasn't got no kick coming, has you?" asked Humble. "Hey, +Cookie!" he shouted into the dark gallery which led to the cook shack. +"Rustle in some more fixings for another place, and bring in the slush!" +Then he turned to his tormentor: "You has allus got something to say about +my business, ain't you, hey?" + +"Sic 'em, Humble!" said Silent Allen. "Go for him!" + +From the gallery came sounds of calamity and then a mongrel dog shot +out and collided with the table, glancing off it and under the curtain +in his haste to gain the outside world. A second later the cook, his +face fiendish, grasping a huge knife, followed the dog out on the plain. +Those eating sprang to their feet and streamed after the cook, yelling +encouragement to their favorite. + +"Go it, Old Woman!" "'Ray for Cookie!" "Beat him out, Lightning!" and +other expressions met Blake as he came up from the corral. + +"Cook got 'em again?" he asked, elbowing his way into the house. "I told +you to keep liquor away from him." + +"'Tain't liquor this time; it's th' kioodle," replied Docile Thomas as he +led the way back to the table. "Him an' th' dog don't mix extra well." + +Blake swept aside the blanket and saw The Orphan standing by the window +and laughing. Turning, he disappeared into the gallery and soon returned +with a tin plate, a steel knife, a tin cup and the coffee pot. + +"Sit down--good Lord, they would let a man starve," he said, roughly +clearing a place at the table for the new arrival. "I don't know how +you feel," he continued, "but I'm so all-fired hungry that I don't know +whether it's my back or stomach that hurts. Take some beef and throw +those potatoes down this way. Here, have some slush," filling The Orphan's +cup with coffee. "This ain't like the coffee the sheriff drinks, but it +is just a little bit better than nothing. You see, Cook's all right, only +he can't cook, never could and never will. But he's a whole lot better +than a sailor I once suffered under." + +"What's the matter between you and Lightning, Lee?" asked Bud as the cook +passed by the table on his way to the shack. + +"Wouldn't he drink yore slush? I allus said some dogs was smart," laughed +Jack Lawson. + +Lee's smile was bland. "Scalpee th' dlog," he asserted as he disappeared. +"No dlamn good!" wafted from the gallery. + +"Say, Humble," said Silent Allen in an aggrieved tone, "the beef will wag +its tail some night if you don't shoot that cur!" + +"That's right!" endorsed Jack. "I'll shoot him for a dollar," he added +hopefully. "The boys will all chip in to make up the purse and it won't +cost you a cent, not even a cartridge." + +"Anybody that don't like that setter can move," responded Humble with +decision. "He's a O. K. dog, that's what he is," he added loyally. + +"Well, he's a setter, all right," laughed Silent. "He ain't good for +nothing else but to set around all day in the shade and chew hisself up." + +"He ain't, ain't he?" cried Humble, delaying the morsel on his fork in +mid-air. "You ought to see him a-chasing coyotes!" + +"I did see him chasing coyotes, and that's why I want you to have him +killed," replied Silent, grinning. "His feet are too big. Every time he +shoves his hind feet between the front ones he throws hisself." + +"What did he ever catch except fleas and the mange?" asked Blake, winking +at The Orphan, who was extremely busy burying his hunger. + +"What did he ever catch!" indignantly cried Humble, dropping his fork. +"You saw him catch that gray wolf over near the timber, and you can't deny +it, neither!" + +"By George, he did!" exclaimed Blake seriously. "You're right this time, +Humble, he did. But he let go awful sudden. Besides, that gray wolf +you're talking about was a coyote, and he would have died of old age in +another week if you hadn't shot him to save the dog. And, what's more, I +never saw him chase anything since, not even rabbits." + +"He caught my boot one night," remarked Charley Bailey, reflectively, +"right plumb on his near eye. Oh, he's a catcher, all right." + +"He's so good he ought to be stuffed, then he could sit without having +to move around catching boots and things," said Jim. "Why don't you have +him stuffed, Humble?" + +"Oh, yore a whole lot smart, now ain't you?" blazed the persecuted +puncher, glaring at his tormentors. + +"He can't catch his tail, Silent," offered Bud. "I once saw him trying +to do it for ten minutes--he looked like a pinwheel what we used to have +when we were kids. Missed it every time, and all he got was a cheap drunk." + +Humble said a few things which came out so fast that they jammed up, and +he left the room to hunt for his dog. + +"Any particular reason why you call him Lightning, or is it just irony?" +asked The Orphan as he helped himself to the beef for the third time. "I +never heard that name used before." + +"Oh, it ain't irony at all!" hastily denied the foreman. "That's a real +good name, fits him all right," he assured. Then he explained: "You see, +lightning don't hit twice in the same place, and neither can the dog when +he scratches himself. And, besides, he can dodge awful quick. You have +to figure which way he'll jump when you want him to catch anything." + +"But you don't have to remember his name at all, Stranger," interposed +Silent, who was not at all silent. "Any handle will do, if you only yells. +Every time anybody yells he makes a crow line for the plain and howls at +every jump. He's got a regular, shore enough trail worn where he makes his +get-away." + +Silence descended over the table, and for a quarter of an hour only the +click of eating utensils could be heard. At the end of that time Blake +pushed back his chair and arose. He glanced around the table and then +spoke very distinctly: "Well, Orphan, get acquainted with your outfit." A +head or two raised at the name, but that seemed to be all the effect of +his words. "The boys will put you onto the game in the morning, and Bud +will show you where to begin in case I don't show up in time. Better take +a fresh cayuse and let yours rest up some. Don't hurt Humble's ki-yi and +he'll be plumb nice to you; and if Silent wants to know how you likes +his singing and banjo playing, lie and say it's fine." + +The laugh went around and all was serene with the good fellowship which +is so often found in good outfits. + +"Joe, I'll bring the mail out with me, so you needn't go after it," +continued the foreman as he strode towards the door. "That's what I'm +going over for," he laughed. + +"Lord, I'd go, too, if pie and cake and good coffee was on the card," +laughed Silent. + +"We'll shore have to go over in a gang some night and raid that pantry," +remarked Bud. "It would be a circus, all right." + +"The sheriff would get some good target practice, that's shore," responded +Blake. "But I've got something better than that, and since you brought +the subject up I'll tell you now, so you'll be good. + +"Mrs. Shields has promised to get up a fine feed for you fellows as soon +as Jim's sisters are on hand to help her, and as they are here now I +wouldn't be a whole lot surprised if I brought the invitation back with +me. How's that for a change, eh?" he asked. + +"Glory be!" cried Silent. "Hurry up and get home!" + +"Say, she's all right, ain't she!" shouted Jack, executing a jig to show +how glad he was. + +"Pinch me, Humble, pinch me!" begged Bud. "I may be asleep and +dreaming--_here!_ What the devil do you think I am, you wart-headed +coyote!" he yelled, dancing in pain and rubbing his leg frantically. +"You blamed doodle bug, yu!" + +"Well, I pinched you, didn't I?" indignantly cried Humble. "What's eating +you? Didn't you ask me to, you chump?" + +"Hurry up and get that mail, Tom," cried Jim. "It might spoil--and say, +if she leads at you with that invite, clinch!" + +Blake laughed and went off toward the corral. As he found the horse he +wished to ride he heard a riot in the bunk-house and he laughed silently. +A Virginia reel was in full swing and the noise was terrible. Riding +past the window, he saw Silent working like a madman at his banjo; and +assiduously playing a harmonica was The Orphan, all smiles and puffed-out +cheeks. + +"Well, The Orphan is all right now," the foreman muttered as he swung out +on the trail to Ford's Station. "I reckon he's found himself." + +In the bunk-house there was much hilarity, and laughter roared continually +at the grotesque gymnastics of the reel and at the sharp wit which cut +right and left, respecting no one save the new member of the outfit, +and eventually he came in for his share, which he repaid with interest. +Suddenly Jim, catching his spurs in a bear-skin rug which lay near a +bunk, threw out his arms to save himself and then went sprawling to the +floor. The uproar increased suddenly, and as it died down Jim could be +heard complaining. + +"---- ----!" he cried as he nursed his knee. "I've had that pelt for +nigh onto three years and regularly I go and get tangled up with it. It +shore beats all how I plumb forget its habit of wrapping itself around +them rowels, what are too big, anyhow. And it ain't a big one at that, +only about half as big as the one I got for a tenderfoot up in Montanny," +he deprecated in disgust. + +The outfit scented a story and became suddenly quiet. + +"Dod-blasted postage stamp of a pelt," he grumbled as he threw it into +his bunk. + +"The other skin couldn't 'a' been much bigger than that one," said Bud, +leading him on. "How big was it, anyhow, Jim?" + +"It couldn't, hey? It came off a nine-foot grizzly, that's how big it +was," retorted Jim, sitting down and filling his pipe. "Nine whole feet +from stub of tail to snoot, plumb full of cussedness, too." + +"How'd you get it--Sharps?" queried Charley. + +"No, Colt," responded Jim. "Luckiest shot _I_ ever made, all right. I +shore had visions of wearing wings when I pulled the trigger. Just one of +them lucky shots a man will make sometimes." + +"Give us the story, Jim," suggested Silent, settling himself easily in his +bunk. "Then we'll have another smoke and go right to bed. I'm some sleepy." + +"Well," began Jim after his pipe was going well, "I was sort of second +foreman for the Tadpole, up in Montanny, about six years ago. I had a good +foreman, a good ranch and about a dozen white punchers to look after. And +we had a real cook, no mistake about that, all right. + +"The Old Man hibernated in New York during the winter and came out every +spring right after the calf round-up was over to see how we was fixed and +to eat some of the cook's flapjacks. That cook wasn't no yaller-skinned +post for a hair clothes line, like this grinning monkey what we've got +here. The Old Man was a fine old cuss--one of the boys, and a darn good +one, too--and we was always plumb glad to see him. He minded his own +business, didn't tell us how we ought to punch cows and didn't bother +anybody what didn't want to be bothered, which we most of us did like. + +"Well, one day Jed Thompson, who rustled our mail for us twice a month, +handed me a letter for the foreman, who was down South and wouldn't +be back for some time. His mother had died and he went back home for a +spell. I saw that the letter was from the Old Man, and wondered what it +would say. I sort of figured that it would tell us when to hitch up to +the buckboard and go after him. Fearing that he might land before the +foreman got back, I went and opened it up. + +"It was from the Old Man, all right, but it was no go for him that spring. +He was sick abed in New York, and said as how he was plumb sorry he +couldn't get out to see his boys, and so was we sorry. But he said as +how he was sending us a friend of his'n who wanted to go hunting, and +would we see that he didn't shoot no cows. We said we would, and then +I went on and found out when this hunter was due to land. + +"When the unfortunate day rolled around I straddled the buckboard and lit +out for Whisky Crossing, twenty miles to the east, it being the nearest +burg on the stage line. And as I pulled in I saw Frank, who drove the +stage, and he was grinning from ear to ear. + +"'I reckon that's your'n,' he said, pointing to a circus clown what had +got loose and was sizing up the town. + +"'The drinks are on me when I sees you again, Frank,' I said, for somehow +I felt that he was right. + +"Then I sized up my present, and blamed if he wasn't all rigged out to +kill Indians. While my mouth was closing he ambled up to me and stared +at my gun, which must 'a' been purty big to him. + +"'Are you Mr. Fisher's hired man?' he asked, giving me a real tolerating +look. + +"Frank followed his grin into the saloon, leaving the door open so he +could hear everything. That made me plumb sore at Frank, him a-doing a +thing like that, and I glared. + +"'I ain't nobody's hired man, and never was,' I said, sort of riled. 'We +ain't had no hired man since we lynched the last one, but I'm next door +to the foreman. Won't I do, or do you insist on talking to a hired man? +If you do, he's in the saloon.' + +"'Oh, yes, you'll do!' he said, quick-like, and then he ups and climbs +aboard and we pulled out for home, Frank waving his sombrero at me and +laughing fit to kill. + +"We hadn't no more than got started when the hunter ups and grabs at the +lines, which he shore missed by a foot. I was driving them cayuses, not +him, and I told him so, too. + +"'But ain't you going to take my luggage?' he asked. + +"'Luggage! What luggage?' I answers, surprised-like. + +"Then he pointed behind him, and blamed if he didn't have two trunks, a +gripsack and three gun cases. I didn't say a word, being too full of cuss +words to let any of 'em loose, until Frank wobbled up and asked me if +I'd forgot something. Then I shore said a few, after which I busted my +back a-hoisting his freight cars aboard, and we started out again, Frank +acting like a d----n fool. + +"The cayuses raised their ears, wondering what we was taking the saloon +for, and I reckoned we would make them twenty miles in about eight hours +if nothing busted and we rustled real hard. + +"Well, about every twenty minutes I had to get off and hoist some of +his furniture aboard, it being jolted off, for the prairie wasn't paved +a whole lot, and us going cross-country. Considering my back, and the +fact that he kept calling me 'My man,' and Frank's grin, I wasn't in +no frame of mind to lead a religion round-up when I got home and dumped +Davy Crockett's war-duds overboard for Jed to rustle in. I was still sore +at Jed for bringing that letter. + +"Davy Crockett dusted for the house and ordered Sammy Johns to oil his +guns and put them together, after which he went off a-poking his nose into +everything in sight, and mostly everything that wasn't in sight. When he +got back to the house from his tour of inspection he found his guns just +like he'd left them, and that was in their cases. Then he ambled out to +me and registered his howl. + +"'My man,' he said, 'My man, that hired man what I told to put my guns +together ain't done it!' + +"'Oh, he didn't?' I said, hanging on to my cuss words, for I was some +surprised and couldn't say a whole lot. + +"'No, he hasn't, and so I've come out to report him,' he said, looking mad. + +"'My man!' said I, mad some myself, and looking him plumb in the eyes. 'My +man, if he had I'd shore think he was off his feed or loco. He ain't no +hired man, but he is a all-fired good cow-puncher, and I'm a heap scared +about him not filling you full of holes, you asking him to do a thing like +that! He must be real sick.' + +"He didn't have no come-back to that, but just looked sort of funny, and +then he trotted off to put his guns together hisself. I hustled around +and saw that some work was done right and then went in to supper. After it +was over my present got up and handed me a gun, and I near fell over. +It was a purty little Winchester, and I don't blame him a whole lot for +being tickled over it, for it shore was a beauty, but it oozed out a ball +about the size of a pea, and the makers would 'a' been some scared if +they had known it was running around loose in a grizzly-bear country. + +"'I reckon that'll stop him,' he said, happy-like. + +"'Stop what?' I asked him. + +"'Why, game--bears, of course,' he said, shocked at my appalling ignorance. + +"'Yes,' said I, slow-like, 'I reckon Ephraim may turn around and scratch +hisself, if you hits him.' + +"'Why, won't that stop a bear?' + +"'Yes, if it's a stuffed bear,' I said. + +"'Why, that's a blamed good rifle!' + +"'It shore is; it's as fine a gun as I ever laid my eyes on,' I replied, +'for prairie dogs and such.' + +"Then I felt plumb sorry for him, he being so ignorant, and so when he +hands me a peach of a shotgun to shoot coyotes with I laid it down and +got my breach-loading Sharps, .50 caliber, which I handed to him. + +"'There,' I said, 'that's the only gun in the room what any +self-respecting bear will give a d----n for.' + +"He looked at it, felt its heft, sized up the bunghole and then squinted +along the sights. + +"'Why, this gun will kick like the very deuce!' he said. + +"'Kick!' said I. 'KICK! She'll kick like a army mule if you holds her far +enough from your shoulder. But I'd a whole lot ruther get kicked by a mule +than hugged by a grizzly, and so'll you when you sees him a-heading your +way.' + +"'But what'll you use?' says he, 'I don't want to take your gun.' + +"Well, when he said that I reckoned that he had some good stuff in him +after all, and somehow I felt better. There he was, away from his mother +and sisters, among a bunch of gamboling cow-punchers, and right in the +middle of a good bear country. I sort of wondered if he was to blame, and +managed to lay all the fault on his city bringing-up. + +"'That's all right,' says I, 'I'll take an old muzzle-loading Bridesburg +what's been laying around the house ever since I came here. It heaves +enough lead at one crack to sink a man-of-war, being a .60 caliber.' + +"Well, bright and early the next morning we started out for bear, and I +knowed just where to look, too. You see, there was a thicket of berry +bushes about three miles from the ranch house and I had seen plenty of +tracks there, and there was a grizzly among them, too, and as big as a +house, judging from the signs. The boys had wanted to ride out in a gang +and rope him, but I said as how I was saving him for a dude hunter to +practice on, so they left him alone. + +"We footed it through the brush, and finally Davy Crockett, who simply +would go ahead of me, yelled out that he had found tracks. + +"I rustled over, and sure enough he had, only they wasn't made by no bear, +and I said so. + +"'Then what are they?' he asked, sort of disappointed. + +"'Cow tracks,' said I. 'When you see bear tracks you'll know it right +away,' and we went on a-hunting. + +"We had just got down in a little hollow, where the green flies were +purty bad, when I saw tracks, and they was bear tracks this time, and +whoppers. It had rained a little during the night and the ground was +just soft enough to show them nice. I called Davy Crockett and he came +up, and when he saw them tracks he was plumb tickled, and some scairt. + +"'Where is he?' he asked, looking around sort of anxious. + +"'At the front end of these tracks, making more,' said I. + +"'And what are we going to do now?' he asked, cocking the Sharps. + +"'We're going to trail him,' said I, 'and if we finds him and has any +accidents, you wants to telegraph yourself up a tree, and be sure that +it ain't a big tree, too.' + +"'"Be sure it ain't a big tree!"' he repeated, looking at me like he +thought I wanted him to get killed. + +"'Exactly,' said I, and then I explained: 'The bigger the tree, the sooner +you'll be a meal, for he climbs by hugging the trunk and pushing hisself +up. A little tree'll slide through his legs, and he can't get a holt.' + +"'I hope I don't forget that!' he exclaimed, looking dubious. + +"'The less you forgets when bear hunting,' said I, 'the longer you'll +remember.' + +"We took up the trail and purty soon we saw the bear, and he was so big he +didn't hardly know how to act. He was pawing berries into his mouth +for breakfast, and he turned his head and slowly sized us up. He dropped +on all fours and then got up again, and Davy Crockett, not listening to +me telling him where to shoot, lets drive and busted an ear. Ephraim +preferred all fours again and started coming straight at us, and Moses +and all his bullrushers couldn't have stopped him. He was due to arrive +near Davy Crockett in about four and a half seconds, and that person +dropped his gun and hot-footed it for a whopping big tree. I yelled +at him and told him to take a little one, but he was too blamed busy +hunting bear to listen to a no-account hired man like me, so he kept +on a-going for the big tree. + +"I figured, and figured blamed quick, that the bear would tag him just +about the time he tagged the tree, and so, hoping to create a diversion, +I whanged away at the bear's tail, him running plumb away from me. I +was real successful, for I created it all right. When he felt that +carload of lead slide up under his skin he braced hisself, slid and +wheeled, looking for the son-of-a-gun what done it, and he saw me pouring +powder hell-bent down my gun. He must 'a' knowed that I was the real +business end of the partnership, and that he'd have trouble a-plenty if +he let me finish my job, for he came at me like a bullet. + +"'Climb a _little_ tree! Climb a _little_ tree!' yelled Davy Crockett from +his perch in his two-foot-through oak. + +"I wasn't in no joyous frame of mind when a nine-foot grizzly was due in +the next mail, but I just had to laugh at his advice when I sized up his +layout. As I jumped to one side the bear slid past, trying awful hard to +stop, and he was doing real well, too. As he turned I slipped on some of +that green grass, and thought as how the Old Man would have to get another +puncher. + +"'I ain't never going to peter out with a tenderfoot looking on if I can +help it!' I said to myself, and I jerked loose my six-shooter, shooting +offhand and some hasty. It was just a last hope, the kick of a dying +man's foot, but it fetched him, blamed if it didn't! He went down in a +heap and clawed about for a spell, but I put five more in him, and then +sat down. Did you ever notice how long it takes a grizzly to die? I +loaded my gun in a hurry, the sweat pouring down my face, for that was +one of the times it ain't no disgrace to be some scared, which I was. + +"'Is he dead?' called Davy Crockett from his tree, hopeful-like and some +anxious. + +"'He is,' I said, 'or, leastawise, he was.' + +"Davy was a sight. He was all skinned up from his clinch with the tree, +though how he used his face getting up is more than I can tell. And he +was some white and unsteady. He had all the hunting he wanted, and he +managed to say that he was glad he hadn't come out alone, and that he +reckoned I was right about his guns after all. So we took a last look at +the bear and lit out for the ranch, where I told the boys to go out and +drag our game home." + +Jim knocked the ashes from his pipe and began to fill it anew, acting as +though the story was finished, but Bud knew him well, and he spoke up: + +"Well, what then?" he asked. + +"Oh, the hunter left for New York the very next day, and I skinned the +bear and sent the pelt after him as a present. When I wrote out my +quarterly report, the foreman not being back yet, I told the Old Man that +if he had any more friends what wanted to go hunting to send them up to +Frenchy McAllister on the Tin Cup. I was some sore at Frenchy for the +way he had cleaned me out at poker." + +He threw the skin to the floor and began to undress. + +"Come on, now, lights out," he said. "I'm tired." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE SHERIFF STATES SOME FACTS + + +The foreman of the Star C impatiently tossed his bridle reins over the +post which stood near the sheriff's door and knocked heavily, brushing +the dust of his ride from him. Quick, heavy steps approached within the +house and the door suddenly flew open. + +"Hullo, Tom!" Shields cried, shaking hands with his friend. "Come right +in--I knew you would come if we coaxed you a little." + +"You don't have to do much coaxing--I can't stay away, Jim," replied Blake +with a laugh. "How do you do, Mrs. Shields?" + +"Very well, Tom," she answered. "Miss Ritchie, Helen, Mary, this is Tom +Blake; Tom, Miss Ritchie and James' sisters. They are to stay with us just +as long as they can, and I'll see that it is a good, long time, too." + +"How do you do?" he cried heartily, acknowledging the introduction. "I +am glad to meet you, for I've heard a whole lot about you. I hope you'll +like this country--greatest country under the sky! You stay out here a +month and I'll bet you'll be just like lots of people, and not want to +go back East again." + +"It seems as though we have always known Mr. Blake, for James has written +about you so much," replied Helen, and then she laughed: "But I am not +so sure about liking this country, although very unusual things seem to +take place in it. The journey was very trying, and it seemed to get worse +as we neared our destination." + +"Well, I'll have to confess that the stage-ride part of it is a drawback, +and also that Apaches don't make good reception committees. They are a +little too pressing at times." + +"But, speaking seriously," responded Helen, "I have had a really +delightful time. James has managed to get me a very tame horse after +quite a long search, and I have taken many rides about the country." + +"Wait 'til you see that horse, Tom," laughed the sheriff. "It's warranted +not to raise any devilment, but it can't, for it has all it can do to +stand up alone, and can't very well run away." + +"I see that The Orphan delivered my message, contrary to the habits of +men," remarked the sheriff's wife as she took the guest's hat and offered +him a seat. "I spoke to James about it several days ago, and asked him to +send you word when he could, for you have not been here for a long time. +And the wonderful thing about it is that he remembered to tell The Orphan." + +"Thank you," he replied, seating himself. "Yes, he delivered it all +right, it was about the second thing he said. But I just couldn't get +here any sooner, Mrs. Shields. And I was just wondering if I could get +over to-night when he told me. When he said 'apricot pie' he looked sort +of sad." + +"Poor boy!" she exclaimed. "You must take him one--it was a shame to send +such a message by him, poor, lonesome boy!" + +"Well, he ain't so lonesome now," laughed Blake. + +Helen had looked up quickly at the mention of The Orphan's name, and the +sheriff replied to her look of inquiry. + +"I sent him out to punch for Blake, Helen," he said quickly. "If he has +the right spirit in him he'll get along with the Star C outfit; if he +hasn't, why, he won't get on with anybody. But I reckon Tom will bring +out all the good in him; he'll have a fair show, anyhow." + +"And you never told us about it!" cried Helen reproachfully. + +"Oh, I was saving it up," laughed the sheriff. "What do you think of him, +Tom?" he asked, turning to the foreman. + +"Why, he's a clean-looking boy," answered Blake. "I like his looks. He +seems to be a fellow what can be depended on in a pinch, and after all +I had heard about him he sort of took me by surprise. I thought he would +be a tough-looking killer, and there he was only a overgrown, mischievous +kid. But there is a look in his eyes that says there is a limit. But he +surprised me, all right." + +"You want to appreciate that, Miss Ritchie," remarked the sheriff, smiling +broadly. "Anything that takes Tom Blake by surprise must have merit of +some kind. And he is a good judge of men, too." + +"I do so hope he gets on well," she replied earnestly. "He was a perfect +gentleman when he was here, and his wit was sharp, too. And out there on +that awful plain, when he stood swaying with weakness, he looked just +splendid!" + +"Pure grit, pure grit!" cried the sheriff in reply. "That's why I'm +banking on him," he added, his eyes warming as he remembered. "Any fellow +who could turn a trick like that, and who has so much clean-cut courage, +must be worth looking after. He's got a bad reputation, but he's plumb +white and square with me, and I'm going to be square with him. And when +you know all that I know about him you'll take his reputation as a +natural result of hard luck, spunk, and other people's devilment and +foolishness. But he's going to have a show now, all right." + +"What did your men say when they saw him? Do they know who he is?" asked +Mrs. Shields anxiously. + +Blake laughed: "Oh, yes, they know who he is. They ain't the talking kind +in a case like that; they won't say a word to him about what he has +done. Besides, he was under their roof, eating their food, and that's +enough for them. Of course, they were a little surprised, but not half as +much as I thought they would be. He is a man who gives a good first +impression, and the boys are all fine fellows, big-hearted, square, +clean-living and peaceful. Reputations don't count for much with them, +for they know that reputations are gossip-made in most cases. I asked +him to stay, and they haven't got no reason to object, and they won't +waste no time looking for reasons, neither. If there is any trouble at +all, it will be his own fault. Then again, they know that he is all +sand and that his gunplay is real and sudden; not that they are afraid +of him, or anybody else, for that matter, but he is the kind of a man +they like--somebody who can stand up on his own legs and give better than +he gets." + +"I reckon he fills that bill, all right," laughed the sheriff. "He _can_ +stand up on his own legs, and when he does he makes good. And as for +gunplay, good Lord, he's a shore wizard! I reckoned I could do things +with a gun, but he can beat me. He ain't no Boston pet, and he ain't +no city tough, not nohow. And I'd rather have him with me in a mix-up +than against me. He's the coolest proposition loose in this part of the +country at any game, and I know what I'm talking about, too." + +"You promised to tell us everything about him, all you knew," reproached +Helen. "And I am sure that it will be well worth hearing." + +"Well, I was saving it up 'til I could tell it all at once and when you +would all be together," he replied. "There wasn't any use of telling it +twice," he explained as he brought out a box of cigars. "These are the +same brand you sampled last time you were here," he assured his friend +as he extended the box. + +"By George, that's fine!" cried the foreman, picking out the blackest +cigar he could see. "I could taste them cigars for a whole week, they +was so good. There's nothing like a good Perfecto to make a fellow feel +like he's too lucky to live." + +"Oh," said Mrs. Shields. "Then you won't care for the coffee and pie and +gingerbread," she sighed. "I'm very sorry." + +Blake jumped: "Lord, Ma'am," he cried hastily, "I meant in the smoking +line! Why, I've been losing sleep a-dreaming of your cooking. Every time +the cook fills my cup with his insult to coffee I feel so lonesome that +it hurts!" + +"You want to look out, Tom!" laughingly warned the sheriff, "or you'll +get yourself disliked! When I don't care for Margaret's cooking I ain't +fool enough to say so, not a bit of it." + +"You're a nice one to talk like that!" cried his wife. "You are just like +a little boy on baking day--I can hardly keep you out of the kitchen. You +bother me to death, and it is all I can do to cook enough for you!" + +After the laugh had subsided and a steaming cup of coffee had been placed +at the foreman's elbow, Helen impatiently urged her brother to begin his +story. + +He lighted his cigar with exasperating deliberateness and then laughed +softly: "Gosh! I'm getting to be a second fiddle around here. From morning +to night all I hear is The Orphan. The first thing that hits me when I +come home is, 'Have you seen The Orphan?' or, 'Have you heard anything +about him?' The worst offenders are Miss Ritchie and Helen. They pester +me nigh to death about him. But here goes: + +"I reckon I'd better begin with Old John Taylor," he slowly began. "I've +been doing some quiet hunting lately, and in the course of it I ran across +Old John down in Crockettsville. You remember him, don't you, Tom? Yes, +I reckoned you wouldn't forget the man who got us out of that Apache +scrape. Well, I had a good talk with him, and this is what I learned: + +"About twenty years ago a family named Gordon moved into northwestern +Texas and put up a shack in one of the valleys. There was three of them, +father, mother, and a bright little five-year-old boy, and they brought +about two hundred head of cattle, a few horses and a whole raft of +books. Gordon bought up quite a bit of land from a ranch nearby at +almost a song, and he never thought of asking for a deed--who would, +down there in those days? There wasn't a rancher who owned more than a +quarter section; you know the game, Tom--take up a hundred and sixty +acres on a stream and then claim about a million, and fight like the very +devil to hold it. We've all done it, I reckon, but there is plenty of +land for everybody, and so there is no kick. Well, he was shore lucky, +for his boundary on two sides was a fair-sized stream that never went +dry, and you know how scarce that is--a whole lot better than a gold mine +to a cattleman. + +"They got along all right for a while, had a tenderfoot's luck with their +cattle, which soon began to be more than a few specks on the plain, and he +was very well satisfied with everything, except that there wasn't no +school. Old man Gordon was daffy on education, which is a good thing to +be daffy over, and he was some strong in that line himself, having been a +school teacher back East. But he took his boy in hand and taught him +all he knew, which must have been a whole lot, judging from things in +general, and the kid was a smart, quick youngster. He was plumb crazy +about two things--books and guns. He read and re-read all the books he +could borrow, and got so he could handle a gun with any man on the range. + +"About five years after he had located, the ranchman from whom he bought +his range and water rights went and died. Some of the heirs, who were not +what you would call square, began to get an itching for Gordon's land, +which was improved by the first irrigation ditch in Texas. There was a +garden and a purty good orchard, which was just beginning to bear fruit. +It was pure, cussed hoggishness, for there was more land than anybody +had any use for, but they must grab everything in sight, no matter what +the cost. Trouble was the rule after that, and the old man was up against +it all the time. But he managed to hold his own, even though he did lose +a lot of cattle. + +"His brand was a gridiron, which wasn't much different from the gridiron +circle brand of the big ranch. It ain't much trouble to use a running iron +through a wet blanket and change a brand like that when you know how, +and the Gridiron Circle gang shore enough knew how. Their expertness with +a running iron would have caused questions to be asked, and probably a +lynching bee, in other parts of the country, but down there they were +purty well alone. They let Gordon know that he had jumped the range, +which was just what they had done, that he didn't own it, and that the +sooner he left the country the better it would be for his health. But +he had peculiar ideas about justice, and he shore was plumb full of +grit and obstinacy. He knew he was right, that he had paid for the land, +and that he had improved it. And he had a lot of faith in the law, not +realizing that he hadn't anything to show the law. And he didn't know +that law and justice don't always mean the same thing, not by a long shot. + +"Well, one day he went out looking for a vein of coal, which he thought +ought to be thereabouts, according to his books, and it ought to be close +to the surface of a fissure. He reckoned that coal of any quality would +be some better than chips and the little wood he owned, so he got busy. +But he didn't find coal, but something that made him hotfoot it to his +books. When the report came back from the assay office he knew that he +had hit on a vein of native silver, which was some better than coal. + +"It didn't take long for the news to get around, though God Himself only +knows how it did, unless the storekeeper told that a package had gone +through his hands addressed to the assay office, and things began to +happen in chunks. He caught three Gridiron Circle punchers shooting his +cows, and he was naturally mad about it and just shot up the bunch before +they knew he was around. He killed one and spoiled the health of the other +two for some time to come, which naturally spelled war with a big W. Then +about this time his wife went and died, which was a purty big addition +to his troubles. As he stood above her grave, all broken up, and about +ready to give up the fight and go back East, he was shot at from cover. +He didn't much care if he was killed or not, until he remembered that he +had a boy to take care of. Then he got fighting mad all at once, all of +his troubles coming up before him in a bunch, and he got his gun and +went hunting, which was only right and proper under the circumstances." + +The sheriff flecked the ashes of his cigar into a blue flower pot which +was gay with white ribbons, and poured himself a cup of coffee. + +"I hate to think that it is possible to find a whole ranch of hellions +from the owner down," he continued, "but the nature of the owner picks a +dirty foreman, and a dirty foreman needs dirty men, and there you are. +That fits the case of the Gridiron Circle to a T. There was not one white +man in the whole gang," and he sat in silence for a space. + +"Well, the boy, who was about fifteen years old by this time, took his +gun and went out to find his daddy, and he succeeded. He cut him down +and buried him and then went home. That night the shack burned to the +ground, the orchard was ruined and the boy disappeared. Some people said +that the kid took what he wanted and burned the house rather than to +have it profaned as a range house by the curs who murdered his dad; and +some said the other thing, but from what I know of the kid, I reckon he +did it himself. + +"Right there and then things began to happen that hurt the ease and safety +of the Gridiron Circle. Cows were found dead all over the range--juglars +cut in every case. Three of their punchers were found dead in one +week--a .5O-caliber Sharps had done it. A regular reign of terror began +and kept the outfit on the nervous jump all the time. They searched and +trailed and searched and swore, and if one of them went off by himself +he was usually ready to be buried. Ten experienced, old-time cowmen were +made fools of by a fifteen-year-old kid, who was never seen by anybody +that lived long enough to tell about it. When he got hungry, he just +killed another cow and had a porterhouse steak cooked between two others +over a good fire. He ate the middle steak, which had all the juices of +the two burned ones, and threw the others away. Three meals a day for six +months, and one cow to a meal, was the order of things on the ranges of +the Gridiron Circle. He had plenty of ammunition, because every dead +puncher was minus his belt when found and his guns were broken or gone; +and early in the game the boy had made a master stroke: he raided the +storehouse of the ranch one night and lugged away about five hundred +rounds of ammunition in his saddle bags, with a couple of spare Colts and +a repeating Winchester of the latest pattern, and he spoiled all the +rest of the guns he could lay his hands on. Humorous kid, wasn't he, +shooting up the ranch with its own guns and cartridges? + +"Finally, however, after the news had spread, which it did real quick, a +regular lynching party was arranged, and the U-B, which lay about sixty +miles to the east, sent over half a dozen men to take a hand. Then the +Gridiron Circle had a rest, but while the gang was hunting for him and +laying all sorts of elaborate traps to catch him, the boy was over on +the U-B, showing it how foolish it had been to take up another man's +quarrel. By this time the whole country knew about it, and even some +Eastern papers began to give it much attention. One of the punchers of +the Gridiron Circle, when he found a friend dead and saw the tracks of +the kid in the sand, swore and cried that it was 'that d----n Orphan' +who had done it, and the name stuck. He had become an outlaw and was +legitimate prey for any man who had the chance and grit to turn the +trick. For ten years he has been wandering all over the range like a +hunted gray wolf, fighting for his life at every turn against all kinds of +odds, both human and natural. And I reckon that explains why he is accused +of doing so much killing. He has been hunted and forced to shoot to +save his own life, and a gray wolf is a fighter when cornered. I know +that I wouldn't give up the ghost if I could help it, and neither would +anybody else." + +"Oh, it is a shame, an awful shame!" cried Helen, tears of sympathy in her +eyes. "How could they do it? I don't blame him, not a bit! He did right, +terrible as it was! And only a boy when they began, too! Oh, it is awful, +almost unbelievable!" + +"Yes, it is, Sis," replied Shields earnestly. "It ain't his fault, not +by any manner or means--he was warped." And then he added slowly: "But Tom +and I will straighten him out, and if some folks hereabouts don't like it, +they can shore lump it, or fight." + +"Tell me how you met him, Jim," requested Blake in the interval of +silence. "I've heard some of it, second-handed, or third-handed, but I'd +like to have it straight." + +"Well," the sheriff continued, "when he came to these parts I didn't +know anything about him except what I had heard, which was only bad. He +had a nasty way of handling his gun, a hair-trigger and a nervous finger +on his gun, and he had a distressing way of using one cow to a meal, so +I got busy. I didn't expect much trouble in getting him. I knew that he +was only a youngster and I counted on my fifty years, and most of them +of experience, getting him. Being young, I reckoned he would be foolhardy +and hasty and uncertain in his wisdom; but, Lord! it was just like trying +to catch a flea in the dark. He was here, there and everywhere. While +I was down south hunting along his trail he would be up north objecting +to the sheep industry in ingenious ways and varying his bill of fare +with choice cuts of lamb and mutton. And by the time I got down south he +would be--God only knows where, I didn't. I could only guess, and I +guessed wrong until the last one. And then it was the toss of a coin +that decided it. + +"After a while he began to get more daring, and when I say more daring I +mean an open game with no limit. He began to prove my ideas about his age +making him reckless, though he was cautious enough, to be sure. One day, +not long ago, he had a run-in with two sheepmen out by the U bend of the +creek, who had driven their herds up on Cross Bar-8 land and over the +dead-line established by the ranch. They must have taken him for some +Cross Bar-8 puncher and thought he was going to kick up a fuss about the +trespass, or else they recognized him. Anyway, when I got on the scene +they were ready to be planted, which I did for them. Then I went after +him on a plain trail north--and almost too plain to suit me, because it +looked like it had been made plain as an invitation. He had picked out +the softest ground and left plenty of good tracks. But I was some mad +and didn't care much what I run into. I thought he had driven the whole +blasted herd of baa-baas over that high bank and into the creek, for the +number of dead sheep was shore scandalous. + +"I followed that cussed trail north, east, south, west and then all +over the whole United States, it seemed to me. And it was always +growing older, because I had to waste time in dodging chaparrals and +things like that that might hold him and his gun. I went picking my +way on a roundabout course past thickets of honey mesquite and cactus +gardens, over alkali flats and everything else, and the more I fooled +about the madder I got. I ain't no real, genuine fool, and I've had +some experience at trailing, but I had to confess that I was just a +plain, ordinary monkey-on-a-stick when stacked up against a kid that was +only about half my age, because suddenly the plainness of the trail +disappeared and I was left out on the middle of a burning desert to +guess the answer as best I could. I knew what he had done, all right, +but that didn't help me a whole lot. Did you ever trail anybody that used +padded-leather footpads on his cayuse's feet, and that went on a +walk, picking out the hardest ground? No? Well, I have, and it's no cinch. + +"I got tired of chasing myself back to the same place four times out of +five, and I reckons that it wouldn't be very long before he had made his +circle and got me in front of him. It ain't no church fair to be hunting +a mad devil like him under the best conditions, and it's a whole lot +less like one when he gets behind you doing the same thing. I didn't +know whether he had swung to the north or south, so I tossed up a coin +and cried heads for north--and it was tails. I cut loose at a lope and +had been riding for some time when I saw something through an opening +in the chaparrals to the east of me, and it moved. I swung my glasses +on it, and I'm blamed if it wasn't an Apache war party bound north. +They were about a mile to the east of me, and if they kept on going +straight ahead they would run across my trail in about three hours, +for it gradually worked their way. I ducked right then and there and +struck west for a time, turning south again until I hit the Cimarron +Trail, which I followed east. Well, as I went around one side of the +chaparral six mad Apaches went around the other, and they hit my trail +too soon to suit me. I heard a hair-raising yell and lit out in the +direction of Chattanooga as hard as I could go, with a hungry chorus a +mile behind me. + +"I had just passed that freak bowlder on the Apache Trail when the man I +was looking for turned up, and with the drop, of course. We reckoned that +two was needed to stop the war-paints, which we did, him running the game +and doing most of the playing. I felt like I was his honored guest whom +he had invited to share in the festivities. He had plenty of chances to +nail me if he wanted to, and he had chipped in on a game that he didn't +have to take cards in; and to help me out. He could have let them get +me and they would have thought that I had done all the injury and that +there wasn't another man on the desert. But he didn't, and I began to +think he wasn't as bad as he was painted." + +Then he told of the trouble between The Orphan and Jimmy of the Cross +Bar-8, and of the rage which blossomed out on the ranch. + +"That shore settled it for the Cross Bar-8. They wanted lots of gore, and +they got it, all right, when he played five of their punchers against +the very war party he had sent north to meet me, while I was chasing him. +That war party must have found something to their liking, wandering about +the country all that time." + +Blake interrupted him: "War party that he sent north to meet you?" he +asked in surprise. "How could he do that?" + +"That's just what I said," replied Shields, and then he explained about +the arrow. "Any man who could stack a deck like that and use one danger to +wipe out another ain't going to get caught by an outfit of lunkheads--by +George! if he didn't work nearly the same trick on the Cross Bar-8 crowd! +Oh, it's great, simply great!" + +The foreman slapped his knee enthusiastically: "Fine! Fine!" he exulted. +"That fellow has got brains, plenty of them! And he'll make use of them +to the good of this country, too, before we get through with him." + +Shields continued: "After he sic'd the chumps of the Cross Bar-8 on the +Apaches he shore raised the devil on the ranch and I was asked to go out +and run things, which I did, or rather thought I would do. Charley and I +and the two Larkin boys laid out on the plain all night, covered up with +sand, waiting for him to show up between us and the windows--and the first +thing I saw in the morning was Helen's flower pot here--it used to be +Margaret's--setting up on top of a pile of sand under my very nose where +he had stuck it while I waited for him--and blamed if he hadn't signed +his name in the sand at its base!" He suddenly turned to his sister: +"Tell Tom about him calling on you while I was waiting for him out on +the ranch, Helen." + +Helen did so and the way she told it caused the women to look keenly at +her. + +Blake laughed heartily: "Now, don't that beat all!" he cried. + +"It don't beat this," responded the sheriff, turning again to Helen. "Tell +him about the stage coach, Sis." + +"Well, I don't know much about the first part of it," she replied. "All I +remember is a terrible ride --oh, it was awful!" she cried, shuddering as +she remembered the tortures of the Concord. "But when we stopped and +after I managed to get out of the coach I saw the driver carrying a man on +his shoulders and coming toward us. He laid his burden down and revived +him--and he was a young man, and covered with blood." Then she paused: +"He was real nice and polite and didn't seem to think that he had done +anything out of the ordinary. Then we went on and he left us." + +The sheriff laughed and leveled an accusing finger at her: + +"You have left out a whole lot, Sis," he said affectionately. "Helen acted +just like the thoroughbred she is, Tom," he continued. "I guess Bill told +you all about it, for he's aired it purty well. Why, she even lost her +gold pin a-helping him!" and he grinned broadly. + +Helen shot him a warning glance, but it was too late; Mary suddenly sat +bolt upright, her expression one of shocked surprise. + +"Helen Shields!" she cried, "and I never thought of it before! How could +you do it! Why, that horrid man will show your pin and boast about it to +everybody! The idea! I'm surprised at you!" + +"Tut, tut," exclaimed Shields. "I reckon that pin is all right. He might +find it handy some day to return it, it'll be a good excuse when he gets +on his feet. And I'd hate to be the man to laugh at it, or try to take it +from him. Now, come, Mary, think of it right; it was the first kind act +he had known since he lost his daddy. And that pin is one of my main +stand-bys in this game. I believe that he'll be square as long as he +has it." + +"Well, I don't care, James," warmly responded Mary. "It was _not_ a modest +thing to do when she had never seen him before, and he her brother's +enemy and an outlaw!" + +"How could I have fastened the bandage, sister dear?" asked Helen, her +complexion slightly more colored than its natural shade. "It was so very +little to do after all he had done for us!" + +"Well, Tom and I have some business to talk over, so we'll leave you +to fight the matter out among yourselves," the sheriff said, arising. +"Come to my room, Tom, I want to talk over that ranch scheme with you. +You bring the coffee pot and the cigars and I'll juggle the pie and +gingerbread," he laughed as he led the way. + +"Oh, Tom!" hastily called Mrs. Shields after good-nights had been said, +and just before the door closed; "I promised you a dinner for your boys +when Helen and Mary came, and if you think you can spare them this coming +Sunday I will have it then." + +"Thank you, Mrs. Shields," earnestly responded Blake, turning on the +threshold. "It is awful good of you to put yourself out that way, and you +can bet that the boys will be your devoted slaves ever after. If you +must go to that trouble, why, Sunday or any day you may name will do for +us. Gosh, but won't they be tickled!" he exulted as he pictured them +feasting on goodies. "It'll be better than a circus, it shore will!" + +"Why, it's no trouble at all, Tom," she replied, smiling at being able +to bring cheer to a crowd of men, lonely, as she thought. "And you will +arrange to have The Orphan with them, won't you?" + +"I most certainly will," he heartily replied. "It'll do wonders for him." +He glanced quickly at Helen, but she was busily engaged in threading a +needle under the lamp shade. + +"Good night, all," he said as he closed the door. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +AN UNDERSTANDING + + +Blake settled himself in the easy chair which his host pushed over to +him and crossed his feet on the seat of another, and became the +personification of contentment. One of the black Perfectos which a +friend in the East kept Shields supplied with, was tenderly nursed by his +lips, its fragrant smoke slowly issuing from his nose and mouth, +yielding its delights to a man who knew a good cigar when he smoked it, +and who knew how to smoke it. At his elbow stood a coffee pot, flanked +on one side by a plate piled high with gingerbread; on the other by an +apricot pie. His eyes half-closed and his arms were folded, and a great +peace stole over him. He had the philosopher's mind which so readily +yields to the magic touch of a perfect cigar. In that short space of +time he was recompensed for a life of hardships, perils and but few +pleasures. + +They sat each lost in his own thoughts, in a silence broken only by the +very low and indistinct hum of women's voices and the loud ticking of the +clock, which soon struck ten. The foreman sighed, stirred to knock the +ashes from his cigar, and then slowly reached his hand toward the pie. +Shields came to himself and very gravely relighted his cigar, watching +the blue smoke stream up over the lamp. He looked at his contented friend +for a few seconds and then broke the silence. + +"Tom," he said, "what I'm going to tell you now is all meat. I couldn't +say anything about it while the women were around, for they shore worry a +lot and there wasn't no good in scaring them. + +"The Cross Bar-8 outfit got saddled with the idea that they wanted a +new sheriff, and four of them didn't care a whole lot how they made the +necessary vacancy. I got word that they were going to pay Bill Howland +for the part he played, and on the face of it there wasn't nothing more +than that. It was natural enough that they were sore on him, and that +they would try to square matters. Well, of course, I couldn't let him +get wiped out and I took cards in the game. But, Lord, it wasn't what I +reckoned it was at all. He was in for his licking, all right, but _he_ +was the _little_ fish--and _I_ was the _big_ one. + +"They got Bill in the defile of the Backbone and were going to lynch +him--they beat him up shameful. He wouldn't tell them that I was +hand-in-glove with The Orphan, which they wanted to hear, so they tried to +scare him to lie, but it was no go. + +"Well, I followed Bill and, to make it short, that is just what they had +figured on. They posted an outpost to get the drop on me when I showed +up, and he got it. Tex Williard seemed to be the officer in charge, +and he asked me questions and suggested things that made me fighting +mad inside. But I was as cool as I could be apparently, for it ain't +no good to lose your temper in a place like that. I suppose they wanted +me to get out on the warpath so they could frame up some story about +self-defense. It looked bad for me, with three of them having their guns +on me, and Tex Williard had just given me an ultimatum and had counted +two, when, d----d if The Orphan didn't take a hand from up on the wall +of the defile. That let me get my guns out, and the rest was easy. We let +Bill get square on the gang for the beating he had got, by whipping +all of them to the queen's taste. When they got so they could stand up I +told them a few things and ordered them out of the country, and they were +blamed glad to get the chance to go, too. + +"The Orphan didn't have to mix up in that, not at all, and it makes the +third time he's put his head in danger to help me or mine, and he took big +chances every time. How in h--l can I help liking him? Can I be blamed +for treating him white and square when he's done so much for me? He is so +chock full of grit and squareness that I'll throw up this job rather than +to go out after him for his past deeds, and I mean it, too, Tom." + +Blake reached for another piece of pie, held his hand over it in +uncertainty and then, changing his mind, took gingerbread for a change. + +"Well, I reckon you're right, Jim," he replied. "Anyhow, it don't make +a whole lot of difference whether you are or not. You're the sheriff of +this layout, and you're to do what you think best, and that's the idea +of most of the people out here, too. If you want to experiment, that's +your business, for you'll be the first to get bit if you're wrong. And +it ain't necessary to tell you that your friends will back you up in +anything you try. Personally, I am rather glad of what you're doing, +for I like that man's looks, as I said before, and he'll be just the kind +of a puncher I want. He's a man that'll fight like h--l for the man he +ties up to and who treats him square. If he ain't, I'm getting childish +in my judgment." + +"I sent him to you," the sheriff continued, "because I wanted to get +him in with a good outfit and under a man who would be fair with him. I +knew that you would give him every chance in the world. And then Helen +takes such an interest in him, being young and sympathetic and romantic, +that I wanted to please her if I could, and I can. She'll be very much +pleased now that I've given him a start in the right direction and there +ain't nothing I can do for her that is not going to be done. She's a +blamed fine girl, Tom, as nice a girl as ever lived." + +"She shore is--there ain't no doubt about that!" cried the foreman, and +then he frowned slightly. "But have you thought of what all this might +develop into?" he asked, leaning forward in his earnestness. "It's shore +funny how I should think of such a thing, for it ain't in my line at all, +but the idea just sort of blew into my head." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Well, Helen, being young and sympathetic and romantic, as you said, +and owing her own life and the lives of her sister and friend, not to +mention yours, to him, might just go and fall in love with him, and I +reckon that if she did, she would stick to him in spite of hell. He's a +blamed good-looking, attractive fellow, full of energy and grit, somewhat +of a mystery, and women are strong on mysteries, and he might nurse +ideas about having some one to make gingerbread and apricot pie for +him; and if he does, as shore as God made little apples, it'll be Helen +that he'll want. He's never seen as pretty a girl, she's been kind and +sympathetic with him, and I'm willing to bet my hat that he's lost a bit +of sleep about her already. Good Lord, what can you expect? She pities +him, and what do the books say about pity?" + +The sheriff thought for a minute and then looked up with a peculiar light +in his eyes. + +"For a bachelor you're doing real well," he said, still thinking hard. + +"Being a bachelor don't mean that I ain't never rubbed elbows with women," +replied the foreman. "There are some people that are bachelors because +they are too darned smart to get roped and branded because the moon +happens to be real bright. But I'll confess to you that I ain't a bachelor +because I didn't want to get roped. We won't say any more about that, +however." + +"Well," said Shields, slowly. "If he tries to get her before I know that +he is straight and clean and good enough for her, I'll just have to +stop him any way I can. First of all, I'm looking out for my sister, +the h--l with anybody else. But on the other hand, if he makes good and +wants her bad enough to rustle for two and she has her mind made up that +she'd rather have him than stay single and is head over heels in love +with him, I don't see that there's anything to worry about. I tell you +that he is a good man, a real man, and if he changes like I want him +to, she would be a d----d sight better off with him than with some dudish +tenderfoot in love with money. He has had such a God-forsaken life that +he will be able to appreciate a change like that--he would be square as a +brick with her and attentive and loyal--and with him she wouldn't run +much chance of being left a widow. Why, I'll bet he'll worship the ground +she walks on--she could wind him all around her little finger and he'd +never peep. And she would have the best protection that walks around these +parts. But, pshaw, all this is too far ahead of the game. How about that +herd of cattle you spoke of?" + +"I can get you the whole herd dirt cheap," replied the foreman. "And they +are as hungry and healthy a lot as you could wish." + +"Well," responded the sheriff, "I've made up my mind to go ranching +again. I can't stand this loafing, for it don't amount to much more than +that now that The Orphan has graduated out of the outlaw class. I can run +a ranch and have plenty of time to attend to the sheriff part of it, +too. Ever since I sold the Three-S I have been like a fish out of water. +When I got rid of it I put the money away in Kansas City, thinking that I +might want to go back at it again. Then I got rid of that mine and bunked +the money with the ranch money. The interest has been accumulating for +a long time now and I have got something over thirty thousand lying idle. +Now, I'm going to put it to work. + +"I ran across Crawford last week, and he is dead anxious to sell out and +go back East--he don't like the West. I've determined to take the A-Y off +his hands, for it's a good ranch, has good buildings on it, two fine +windmills over driven wells, good grass and shelters. Why, he has put +up shelters in Long Valley that can't be duplicated under a thousand +dollars. His terms are good--five thousand down and the balance in +installments of two thousand a year at three per cent., and I can get +_over_ three per cent, while it is lying waiting to be paid to him. He +is too blamed sick of his white elephant to haggle over terms. He was +foolish to try to run it himself and to sink so much money in driven +wells, windmills and buildings--it would astonish you to know how much +money he spent in paint alone. What did he know about ranching, anyhow? +He can't hardly tell a cow from a heifer. He said that he knew how to +make money earn money in the East, but that he couldn't make a cent +raising cows. + +"If The Orphan attends to his new deal I'll put him in charge and the +rest lies with him. I'll provide him with a good outfit, everything he +needs and, if he makes good and the ranch pays, I'll fix it so he can +own a half-interest in it at less than it cost me, and that will give +him a good job to hold down for the rest of his life. It'll be something +for him to tie to in case of squalls, but there ain't much danger of his +becoming unsteady, because if he was at all inclined to that sort of thing +he would be dead now. + +"This ain't no fly-away notion, as you know. I've had an itching for a +good ranch for several years, and for just about that length of time +I've had my eyes on the A-Y. I was going to buy it when Crawford gobbled +it up at that fancy price and I felt a little put out when he took up +his option on it, but I'm glad he did, now. Why, Reeves sold out to +Crawford for almost three times what I am going to pay for it, and it +has been improved fifty per cent. since he has had it. But, of course, +there was more cattle then than there is now. You get me that herd at +a good figure and I'll be able to take care of them very soon now, just +as soon as I close the deal. But, mind you, no Texas cattle goes--I don't +want any Spanish fever in mine. + +"I'm thinking some of putting Charley in charge temporarily, just as +soon as Sneed gets some men, and when The Orphan takes it over things will +be in purty fair shape. I won't move out there because my wife don't +like ranching--she wants to be in town where she is near somebody, but +I'll spend most of my time out there until everything gets in running +order. Oh, yes--in consideration of the five thousand down at the time +the papers are signed, Crawford has agreed to leave the ranch-house +furnished practically as it is, and that will be nice for Helen and The +Orphan if they ever should decide to join hands in double blessedness. +You used to have a lot of fun about the high-faluting fixings in your +ranch-house, but just wait 'til you see this one! An inside look around +will open your eyes some, all right. It is a wonder, a real wonder! +Running water from the windmills, a bath-room, sinks in the kitchen, a +wood-burning boiler in the cellar, and all the comforts possible. If +Crawford tries to move all that stuff back East it would cost him more +than he could get for it, and he knows it, too. It's a bargain at twice +the price, and I'm going to nail it. I can't think of anything else." + +"Well," replied Blake, "I don't see how you could do anything better, +that's sure. It all depends on the price, and if you're satisfied with +that, there ain't no use of turning it down. I know you can make money +out there with any kind of attention, for I'm purty well acquainted with +the A-Y. And I'll see about the cattle next week, but you better leave +The Orphan stay with me a while longer. My boys are the best crowd that +ever lived in a bunk-house, and if he minds his business they'll smooth +down his corners until you won't hardly know him; and they'll teach him a +little about the cow-puncher game if he's rusty. + +"You remember the time we had that killing out there, don't you?" Blake +asked. "Well, you also remember that we agreed to cut out all gunplay on +the ranch in the future, and that I sent East for some boxing gloves, +which were to be used in case anybody wanted to settle any trouble. +They have been out there for two years now, and haven't been used except +in fun. Give the boys a chance and they'll cure him of the itching +trigger-finger, all right. They're only a lot of big-hearted, overgrown +kids, and they can get along with the devil himself if he'll let them. +But they are hell-fire and brimstone when aroused," then he laughed +softly: "They heard about your trouble with Sneed and they shore was +dead anxious to call on the Cross Bar-8 and make a few remarks about +long life and happiness, but I made them wait 'til they should be sent for. + +"They know all about The Orphan--that is, as much as I did before I +called to-night. Joe Haines is a great listener and when he rustles our +mail once a week he takes it all in, so of course they know all about +it. They had a lot of fun about the way he made the Cross Bar-8 sit +up and take notice, for they ain't wasting any love on Sneed's crowd. +And it took Bill Howland over an hour to tell Joe about his experiences. +So when The Orphan met the outfit they knew him to be the man who had +saved the sheriff's sisters, which went a long way with them. Say, Jim," +he exclaimed, "can I tell them what you said about him to-night? Let +me tell them everything, for it'll go far with them, especially with +Silent, who had some trouble with the U-B about five years ago. He was +taking a herd of about three thousand head across their range and he +swears yet at the treatment he got. Yes? All right, it'll make him solid +with the outfit." + +"Tell them anything you want about him," said the sheriff, "but don't say +anything about the A-Y. I want to keep it quiet for a while." + +Shields poured himself a cup of coffee and then glanced at the clock: "Too +late for a game, Tom?" he asked, expectantly. + +The foreman laughed: "It's seldom too late for that," he replied. + +"Good enough!" cried his host. "What shall it be this time--pinochle or +crib?" + +The foreman slowly closed his eyes as he replied: "Either suits me--this +feed has made me plumb easy to please. Why, I'd even play casino to-night!" + +"Well, what do you say to crib?" asked the sheriff. "You licked me so bad +at it the last time you were here that I hanker to get revenge." + +"Well, I don't blame you for wanting to get it, but I'll tell you right +now that you won't, for I can lick the man that invented crib to-night," +laughed the foreman. "Bring out your cards." + +Shields placed the cards on the table and arranged things where they would +be handy while his friend shuffled the pack. + +The foreman pushed the cards toward his host: "There you are--low deals +as usual, I suppose." + +"Oh, you might as well go ahead and deal," grumbled the sheriff +good-naturedly. "I don't remember ever cutting low enough for you--by +George! A five!" + +Blake picked up the cards and started to deal, but the sheriff stopped him. + +"Hey! You haven't cut yet!" Shields cried, putting his hand on the cards. +"What are you doing, anyhow?" + +Blake laughed with delight: "Well, anybody that can't cut lower than a +five hadn't ought to play the game. What's the use of wasting time?" + +"Well, you never mind about the time--you go ahead and beat me," cried +the sheriff. "Of all the nerve!" + +Blake picked up the cards again: "Do you want to cut again?" he asked. + +"Not a bit of it! That five stands!" + +"Well, how would a four do?" asked the foreman, lifting his hand. "It's a +three!" he exulted. "All that time wasted," he said. + +"You go to blazes," pleasantly replied the sheriff as he sorted his hand. +"This ain't so bad for you, not at all bad; you could have done worse, +but I doubt it." He discarded, cut, and Blake turned a six. + +"Seven," called Shields as he played. + +"Seventeen," replied Blake, playing a queen. + +"No you don't, either," grinned the sheriff. "You can play that four later +if you want to, but not now on twenty-seven. Call it twenty-five," he +said, playing an eight. + +Blake carefully scanned his hand and finally played the four, grumbling a +little as his friend laughed. + +"Thirty-one--first blood," remarked the sheriff, dropping the deuce. + +While he pegged his points Blake suddenly laughed. + +"Say, Jim," he said, "before I forget it I want to tell you a joke on +Humble. He thought it would be easy money if he taught Lee Lung how +to play poker. He bothered Lee's life out of him for several days, and +finally the Chinaman consented to learn the great American game." + +Blake played a six and the sheriff scored two by pairing, whereupon his +opponent made it threes for six, and took a point for the last card. + +"As I was saying, Humble wanted the cook to learn poker. Lee's face was +as blank as a cow's, and Humble had to explain everything several times +before the cook seemed to understand what he was driving at. Anybody would +have thought he had been brought up in a monastery and that he didn't know +a card from an army mule." + +Blake pegged his seven points and picked up his cards without breaking +the story. + +"But Lee had awful luck, and in half an hour he owned half of Humble's +next month's pay. Now, every time he gets a chance he shows Humble the +cards and asks for a game. 'Nicee game, ploker, nicee game,' he'll say. +What Humble says is pertinent, profane and permeating. Then the boys guy +him to a finish. He'll be wanting to teach Lee how to play fan-tan some +day, so the boys say. Lee must have graduated in poker before Humble +ever heard of the game." + +Shields laughed heartily and swiftly ran over his cards. + +"Fifteen two, four, six, a pair is eight, and a double run of three is +fourteen. Real good," he said as he pegged. "Passed the crack that time. +What have you got?" + +The foreman put his cards down, found three sixes and then turned the crib +face up. "Pair of tens and His Highness," he grumbled. "Only three in that +crib!" + +"That's what you get for cutting a three," laughed the sheriff. + +The game continued until the striking of the clock startled the guest. + +"Midnight!" he cried. "Thirty miles before I get to bed--no, no, I can't +stay with you to-night --much obliged, all the same." + +He clapped his sombrero on his head and started for the door: "Well, +better luck next time, Jim--three twenty-four hands shore did make a +difference. Right where they were needed, too. So long." + +"Sorry you won't stay, Tom," called his friend from the door as the +foreman mounted. "You might just as well, you know." + +"I'm sorry, too, but I've got to be on hand to-morrow--anyway, it's bright +moonlight--so long!" he cried as he cantered away. + +"Hey, Tom!" cried the sheriff, leaping from the porch and running to the +gate. "Tom!" + +"Hullo, what is it?" asked the foreman, drawing rein and returning. + +"Smoke this on your way, it'll seem shorter," said the sheriff, holding +out a cigar. + +"By George, I will!" laughed Blake. "That's fine, you're all right!" + +"Be good," cried the sheriff, watching his friend ride down the street. + +"Shore enough good--I have to be," floated back to his ears. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE FLYING-MARE + + +The Sunday morning following Blake's visit to Ford's Station found the +Star C in excitement. Notwithstanding the fact that on every pleasant +night after the day's work had been done it was the custom for the outfit +to indulge in a swim, and that Saturday night had been very pleasant, the +Limping Water was being violently disturbed, and laughter and splashing +greeted the sun as it looked over the rim of the bank. Cakes of soap +glistened on the sand on the west bank and towels hung from convenient +limbs of the bushes which fringed the creek. + +Silent, who was noted among his companions for the length of time he +could stay under water, challenged them to a submersion test. The rules +were simple, inasmuch as they consisted in all plunging under at the +same time, the winner being he who was the last man up. Silent had +steadfastly refused to have his endurance timed, which his friends +mistook for modesty, and no sooner had all "ducked under" than his head +popped up--but this time he was not alone. Humble, whose utmost limit +was not over half a minute, grew angry at his inability to make a good +showing and craftily determined to take a handicap. The two stared at +each other for a space and then burst into laughter, forgetting for the +time being what they should do. Other heads bobbed up, and the secret +was out. Only that Silent was the best swimmer in the crowd saved him +from a ducking, and as it was he had to grab his clothes and run. + +After being assured that he was forgiven for his trickery he rejoined his +friends and his towel. + +More fun was now the rule, for dressing required care. The sandy west bank +sloped gradually to the water's edge, and it was necessary to stand on one +foot on a small stone in the water while the other was dipped to remove +the sand. Still on one foot the other must be dried, the stocking put on, +then the trouser leg and lastly the boot, and woe to the man who lost his +balance and splashed stocking and trouser leg as he wildly sought to +save it! Humble splashed while his foot was only half-way through the +trouser leg, and The Orphan fared even worse. Then a race of awkward +runners was on toward the bunk house, where breakfast was annihilated. + +"Hey, Tom, what time do we leave?" asked Bud for the fifth time. + +"Nine o'clock, you chump," replied the foreman. + +"Three whole hours yet," grumbled Jim as he again plastered his hair to +his head. + +"I'll lose my appetite shore," worried Humble. "We got up too blamed +early, that's what we did." + +"Why, here's Humble!" cried Silent in mock surprise. "Do _you_ like +apricot pie, and gingerbread and _real_ coffee?" + +"You go to the devil," grumbled Humble. "You wouldn't 'a' been asked at +all, only she couldn't very well cut you out of it when she asked me +along. _I_'m the one she really wants to feed; you fellers just happen +to tag on behind, that's all." + +"Going to take Lightning with you, Humble?" asked Docile, winking at the +others. + +"Why, I shore am," replied Humble in surprise. "Do you reckon I'd leave +him and that d-----d Chink all alone together, you sheep?" + +"I was afraid you wouldn't," pessimistically grumbled Docile, but here +he smiled hopefully. "Suppose you take Lee Lung and leave the dog here?" +he queried. + +"Suppose you quit supposing with your feet!" sarcastically countered +Humble. "I know you ain't got much brains, but you might exercise what +little you have got once in a while. It won't hurt you none after you +get used to it." + +"How are you going to carry him, Humble--like a papoose?" queried Joe with +a great show of interest. + +Humble stared at him: "Huh!" he muttered, being too much astonished to +say more. + +"I asked you how you are going to carry your fighting wolfhound," Joe +said without the quiver of an eyelash. "I thought mebby you was going to +sling him on your back like a papoose." + +"Carry him! Papoose!" ejaculated Humble in withering irony. "What do you +reckon his legs are for? He ain't no statue, he ain't no ornament, he's a +dog." + +"Well, I knowed he ain't no ornament, but I wasn't shore about the rest of +it," responded Joe. "I only wanted to know how he'd get to town. There +ain't no crime in asking about that, is there? I know he can't follow the +gait we'll hit up for thirty miles, so I just naturally asked, _sabe?"_ + +"Oh, you did, did you!" cried Humble, not at all humbly. "He can't follow +us, can't he?" he yelled belligerently. + +"He shore can't, cross my heart," asserted Silent in great earnestness. +"If he runs to Ford's Station after us and gets there inside of two days +I'll buy him a collar. That goes." + +"Huh!" snorted Humble in disgust, "he won't wear your old collar after he +wins it. He's got too much pride to wear anything you'll give him." + +"He couldn't, you mean," jabbed Jim. "He's so plumb tender that it would +strain his back to carry it. Why, he has to sit down and rest if more'n +two flies get on the same spot at once." + +"He can't wag his tail more'n three times in an hour," added Bud, "and +when he scratches hisself he has to rest for the remainder of the day." + +Humble turned to The Orphan in an appealing way: "Did you ever see so many +d----d fools all at once?" he beseeched. + +The Orphan placed his finger to his chin and thought for fully half a +minute before replying: "I was just figuring," he explained in apology +for his abstraction. Then his face brightened: "You can tie him up in +a blanket--that's the best way. Yes, sir, tie him up in a blanket and +sling him at the pommel. We'll take turns carrying him." + +"Purple h--l!" yelled Humble. "You're another! The whole crowd are a lot +of ----!" + +"Sing it, Humble," suggested Tad, laughing. "Sing it!" + +"Whistle some of it, and send the rest by mail," assisted Jack Lawson. + +"Seen th' dlog?" came a bland, monotonous voice from the doorway, where +Lee Lung stood holding a chunk of beef in one hand, while his other hand +was hidden behind his back. Over his left shoulder projected half a foot +of club, which he thought concealed. "Seen th' dlog?" he repeated, smiling. + +"Miss Mirandy and holy hell!" shouted Humble, leaping forward at sight of +the club. There was a swish! and Humble rebounded from the door, at which +he stared. From the rear of the house came more monotonous words: "Nice +dlog-gie. Pletty Lightling. Here come. Gette glub," and Humble galloped +around the corner of the house, swearing at every jump. + +When the laughter had died down Blake smiled grimly: "Some day Lee _will_ +get that dog, and when he does he'll get him good and hard. Then we'll +have to get another cook. I've told him fifty times if I've told him once +not to let it go past a joke, but it's no use." + +"He won't hurt the cur, he's only stringing Humble," said Bud. "Nobody +would hurt a dog that minded his own business." + +"If anybody hit a dog of mine for no cause, he wouldn't do it again unless +he got me first," quietly remarked The Orphan. + +Jim hastily pointed to the corner of the house where a club projected into +sight: "There's Lee now!" he whispered hurriedly. "He's laying for him!" + +There was a sudden spurt of flame and smoke and the club flew several +yards, struck by three bullets. Humble hopped around the corner holding +his hand, his words too profane for repetition. + +Smoke filtered from The Orphan's holster and eyes opened wide in surprise +at the wonderful quickness of his gunplay, for no one had seen it. All +there was was smoke. + +"Good God!" breathed Blake, staring at the marksman, who had stepped +forward and was explaining to Humble. "It's a good thing Shields was +square!" he muttered. + +"Did you see that?" asked Bud of Jim in whispered awe. "And I thought _I_ +was some beans with a six-shooter!" + +"No, but I heard it--was they one or six?" replied Jim. + +"I didn't know it was you, Humble," explained The Orphan. "I thought it +was the Chink laying for the dog." + +"---- ----! Good for you!" cried Humble in sudden friendliness. "You're +all right, Orphant, but will you be sure next time? That stung like +blazes," he said as he held out his hand. "I can always tell a white +man by the way he treats a dog. If all men were as good as dogs this world +would be a blamed sight nicer place to live in, and don't you forget it." + +"Still going to take Lightning with you, Humble?" asked Bud. + +"No, I ain't going to take Lightning with me!" snapped Humble. "I'm going +to leave him right here on the ranch," here his voice arose to a roar, +"and if any sing-song, rope-haired, animated hash-wrastler gets gay while +I'm gone, I'll send him to his heathen hell!" + +"Come on, boys," said Blake, snapping his watch shut. "Time to get going." + +"Glory be!" exulted Silent, executing a few fancy steps toward the corral, +his companions close behind, with the exception of The Orphan, who had +gone into the bunk house for a minute. + +As they whooped their way toward the town Blake noticed that a gold +pin glittered at the knot of the new recruit's neck-kerchief, and he +chuckled when he recalled the warning he had given to the sheriff. He +shrewdly guessed that the apricot pie and the rest of the feast were +quite subordinated by The Orphan to the girl who had given him the pin. + +Bud suddenly turned in his saddle and pointed to a jackrabbit which +bounded away across the plain like an animated shadow. + +"Now, if Humble's bloodhound was only here," he said, "we would rope that +jack and make the cur fight it. It would be a fine fight, all right," he +laughed. + +"You go to the devil," grunted Humble, and he started ahead at full speed. +"Come on!" he cried. "Come on, you snails!" and a race was on. + + . . . . . + +The citizens of Ford's Station saw a low-hanging cloud of dust which +rolled rapidly up from the west and soon a hard-riding crowd of cowboys, +in gala attire, galloped down the main street of the town. They slowed +to a canter and rode abreast in a single line, the arms of each man over +the shoulders of his nearest companions, and all sang at the top of +their lungs. On the right end rode Blake, and on the left was The +Orphan. Bill Howland ran out into the street and spotted his new friend +immediately and swung his hat and cheered for the man who had helped +him out of two bad holes. The Orphan broke from the line and shook +hands with the driver, his face wreathed by a grin. + +"You old son-of-a-gun!" cried Bill, delighted at the familiarity from so +noted a person as the former outlaw. "How are you, hey?" + +The line cried warm greeting as it swung around to shake his hand, and +the driver's chest took on several inches of girth. + +"Hullo, Bill!" cried Bud with a laugh. "Seen your old friend Tex lately?" + +"Yes, I did," replied Bill. "I saw him out on Thirty-Mile Stretch, but he +didn't do nothing but swear. He didn't want no more run-ins with me, all +right, and, besides, my rifle was across my knees. He said as how he was +going to come back some day and start things moving about this old town, +and I told him to begin with the Star C when he did." + +He looked across the street and waved his hand at a group of his friends +who were looking on. "Come on over, fellows," he cried, and when they had +done so he turned and introduced The Orphan to them. + +"This ugly cuss here is Charley Winter; this slab-sided curiosity is Tommy +Larkin, and here is his brother Al; Chet Dare, Duke Irwin, Frank Hicks, +Hoke Jones, Gus Shaw and Roy Purvis. All good fellows, every one of them, +and all friends of the sheriff. Here comes Jed Carr, the only man in the +whole town who ain't afraid of me since I licked them punchers in the +defile. Hullo, Jed! Shake hands with the man who played h--l with the +Cross Bar-8 and the Apaches." + +"Glad to meet you, Orphan," remarked Jed as he shook hands. "Punching +for the Star C, eh? Good crowd, most of them, as they run, though Humble +ain't very much." + +"He ain't, ain't he?" grinned that puncher. "You're some sore about that +day when I cleaned up all your cush at poker, ain't you? Ain't had time to +get over it, have you? Want to borrow some?" + +"You want to look out for Humble, Jed," bantered Bud. "He's taken a lesson +at poker from our cook since he played you. Didn't you, Easy?" he asked +Humble. + +The roar of laughter which followed Bud's words forced Humble to stand +treat: "Come on over and have something with the only man in the crowd +that's got any money," he said. + +When they had lined up against the bar jokes began to fly thick and fast +and The Orphan felt a peculiar elation steal over him as he slowly puffed +at his cigar. Suddenly the door flew open and Bill's glass dropped from +his hand. + +"Bucknell, by God! And as drunk as a fool!" he exclaimed. + +The puncher whom The Orphan had tied up above the defile leaned against +the door frame and his gun wavered from point to point unsteadily as he +tried to peer into the dim interior of the room, his face leering as he +sought, with a courage born of drink, for the man who had made a fool of +him. + +A bottle crashed against the wall at his side, and as he lurched forward, +glancing at the broken glass, a figure leaped to meet him and with +agile strength grasped his right wrist, wheeled and got his shoulder +under Bucknell's armpit, took two short steps and straightened up with +a jerk. The intruder left the floor and flew headforemost through the +air, crashing against the rear wall, where he fell to the floor and lay +quiet. The Orphan, having foresworn unnecessary gunplay, and always +scorning to shoot a drunken man, had executed a clever, quick flying-mare. + +As the sheriff stepped into the room Blake ran forward and lifted Bucknell +to his feet, supporting him until he could stand alone. The puncher was +greatly sobered by the shock and blinked confusedly about him. The Orphan +was smoking nonchalantly at the bar and Bill had just given the sheriff +the victim's gun. + +"What's the matter?" asked Bucknell, rubbing his forehead, which was cut +and bruised. + +"Nothing's the matter, yet," answered Shields shortly. "But there would +have been if you hadn't been too drunk to know what you was doing. I saw +you and tried to get here first, but it's all right now. Take your gun +and get out. Here," he exclaimed, "you promise me to behave yourself and +you can go back to Sneed, for he needs you. Otherwise, it's out of the +country after Tex for you. Is it a go?" + +"What was that, and who done it?" asked Bucknell, clinging to the bar. +"What was it?" he repeated. + +"That was me trying to throw you through the wall," said the sheriff, +wishing to give Bucknell no greater cause for animosity against The +Orphan, and for the peace of the community; and also because he wished to +help The Orphan to refrain from using his gun in the future. "And I'd +'a' done it, too, only my hand was sweaty. Will you do what I said?" he +asked. + +Bucknell straightened up and staggered past the sheriff to where The +Orphan stood: "You done that, but it's all right, ain't it?" he asked. +"You ain't sore, are you?" His eyes had a crafty look, but the dimness +of the room concealed it, and The Orphan did not notice the look. + +"It's all right, Bucknell, and I ain't sore," he replied. "I won't be sore +if you do what the sheriff wants you to." + +"All right, all right," replied Bucknell. "Have a drink on me, boys. It's +all right now, ain't it? Have a drink on me." + +"No more drinking to-day," quickly said the bartender at a look from +Shields. "All the good stuff is used up and the rest ain't fit for dogs, +let alone my friends. Wait 'til next time, when I'll have some new." + +"That's too d----d bad," replied Bucknell, leering at the crowd. "Have a +smoke, then. Come on, have a smoke with me." + +"We shore will, Bucknell," responded Shields quickly. + +As the cowboy started for the door the sheriff placed a hand on his +shoulder: "You behave yourself, Bucknell," he said. "So long." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE FEAST + + +Joyous whoops, loud and heartfelt, brought the women to the door of the +sheriff's house in time to see their guests dismount. A perfect babel of +words greeted their appearance as the cowboys burst into a running fire +of jokes, salutations and comments. Even the ponies seemed to know that +something important and unusual was taking place, for they cavorted +and bit and squealed to prove that they were in accord with the spirit of +their riders and that thirty miles in less than three hours had not +subdued them. Bright colors prevailed, for the neck-kerchiefs in most +cases were new and yet showed the original folding creases, while new, +clean thongs of rawhide and glittering bits of metal flashed back the +sunlight. Spurs glittered and the clean looking horses appeared to have +had a dip in the Limping Water. Blake had hunted through the carpeted +rooms of his ranch-house for decorations, and in the drawer of a table +he had found a bunch of ribbons of many kinds and shades. These now +fluttered from the pommels of the saddles and in one case a red ribbon +was twined about the leg of a vicious pinto, and the pinto was not at +all pleased by the decoration. + +The sheriff led the way to the house closely followed by Blake, the others +coming in the order of their nerve. The Orphan was last, not from lack of +courage, but rather because of strategy. He thought that Helen would +remain at the door to welcome each arrival and if he was in the van +he would be passed on to make way for those behind him. Being the last +man he hoped to be able to say more to her than a few words of greeting. +As he mounted the steps she was drawn into the room for something and he +stepped to one side on the porch, well knowing that she would miss him. + +Bud poked his head out the door and started to say something, but The +Orphan fiercely whispered for him to be silent and to disappear, which +Bud did after grinning exasperatingly. + +The man on the porch was growing impatient when he heard the light +swish of skirts around the corner of the house. Sauntering carelessly to +the corner he looked into the back-yard and saw Helen with a tray in +her hands, nearing the back door. She espied him and stopped, flushing +suddenly as he leaped lightly to the ground and walked rapidly toward +her. Her cheeks became a deeper red when he stopped before her and took +the tray, for his eyes were rebellious and would not be subdued, and the +first thing she saw was the gold pin which stood out boldly against +the dark blue neck-kerchief. She was rarely beautiful in her white dress, +and the ribbon which she wore at her throat did not detract in its +effect. Later her sister was to wonder if it was a coincidence that the +ribbon and his neck-kerchief were so good a match in color. + +She welcomed him graciously and he felt a sudden new and strangely +exhilarating sensation steal over him as he took the hand she held out, +the tray all the while bobbing recklessly in his other hand. + +"Why aren't you in the house paying your respects to your hostess?" she +chided half in jest and half in earnest. + +"The delay will but add to my fervor when I do," he replied, "for I will +have had a stimulus then. As long as the hostesses are four and insist +on not being together, how can I pay my respects all at once?" + +"But there is only one hostess," she laughingly corrected. "I am afraid +you are not very good at making excuses. You probably never felt the need +to make them before. You see, I, too, am only a guest." + +"We two," he corrected daringly. + +"I am very glad to see you," she said, leading away from plurals. "You +are looking very well and much more contented. And then, this is ever so +much nicer than our first meeting, isn't it? No horrid Apaches." + +"I've gotten so that I rather like Apaches," he replied. "They are so +useful at times. But you mustn't try to tempt me to subordinate that +eventful day, not yet. It can't be done, although I've never tried to do +it," he hastily assured her, making a gesture of helplessness. "Sometimes +an unexpected incident will change the habits of a lifetime, making +the days seem brighter, and yet, somehow, adding a touch of sadness. I +have been a stranger to myself since then, restless, absentminded, moody +and hungry for I know not what." He paused and then slowly continued, "I +must beg to remain loyal to that day of all days when you bathed an +outlaw's head and showed your love for fair play and kindness." + +"Goodness!" she cried, for one instant meeting his eager eyes. "Why, I +thought it was a terrible day! And you really think differently?" + +"Very much so," he assured her as she withdrew her hand from his. "You +see, it was such a new and delightful experience to save a stage coach +and then find that it was a hospital with a wonderful doctor. I accused +that Apache of being stingy with his lead, for he might just as well have +given me a few more wounds to have dressed." + +"Yes," she laughingly retorted, "it was almost as new an experience +as starting on a long and supposedly peaceful journey and suddenly +finding oneself in the middle of a desert surrounded by dead Indians +and doctoring an Indian killer who was at war with one's brother. And +that after a terrible shaking up lasting for over an hour. Truly it +is a day to be remembered. Now, don't you think you should hurry in and +greet my sister-in-law?" + +"Yes, certainly," he quickly responded. "But before I lose the opportunity +I must ask you if you will care if I ride over and see you occasionally, +because it is terribly lonely on that ranch." + +"You know that we shall always be glad to see you whenever you can call," +she replied, smiling up at him. "We are all very deep in your debt and +brother and all of us think a great deal of you. Are you satisfied on the +Star C, and do you like your work and your companions?" + +"Thank you," he cried happily, "I will ride over and see you once in a +while. But as for my work, it is delightful! The Star C is fine and my +companions--well, they just simply can't be beat! they are the finest, +whitest set of men that ever gathered under one roof." + +"That's very nice, I am glad that you find things so congenial," she +replied in sincerity. "James was sure that you would, for Mr. Blake is an +old friend of his." + +"I'm very anxious about this pin," he said, putting his hand on it. "May +I keep it for a while longer?" he asked with a note of appeal in his voice. + +"Why, yes," she replied, "if you wish to. But only as long as you do +not displease me, and you will not do that, will you? James has such +deep confidence in you that I know you will not disappoint him. You will +justify him in his own mind and in the minds of his acquaintances and +prove that he has not erred in judgment, won't you?" + +"If I am the sum total of your brother's trouble, he will have a path of +roses to wander through all the rest of his life," he responded earnestly. +"And I'm really afraid that you will never again wear this pin as a +possession of yours. Of course you can borrow it occasionally," and he +smiled whimsically, "but as far as displeasing you is concerned, it is +mine forever. It will really and truly be mine on that condition, won't +it? My very own if I do not forfeit it?" + +"If you wish it so," she replied quickly, her face radiant with smiles. +"And you will work hard and you will never shoot a man, no matter what the +provocation may be, unless it is absolutely necessary to do it for the +saving of your own life or that of a friend or an innocent man. Promise +me that!" she commanded imperatively, pleased at being able to dictate +to him. "Men like you never break a promise," she added impulsively. + +"I promise never to shoot a man, woman, child or--or anybody," he +laughingly replied, "unless it is necessary to save life. And I'll work +real hard and save my money. And on Sundays, rain or shine, I'll ride in +and report to my new foreman." Then a bit of his old humor came to him: +"For I just about need this pin--knots are so clumsy, you know." + +She glanced at the knot which held the pin and laughed merrily, leading +the way into the house. + +As they entered Humble was extolling the virtues of his dog, to the +broad grins of his companions, who constantly added amendments and made +corrections _sotto voce._ + +"Why, here they are!" cried the sheriff in such a tone as to suffuse +Helen's face with blushes. The Orphan coolly shook hands with him. + +"Yes, here we are, Sheriff, every one of us," he replied. "We couldn't be +expected to stay away when Mrs. Shields put herself to so much trouble, +and we're all happy and proud to be so honored. How do you do, Mrs. +Shields," he continued as he took her hand. "It is awful kind of you to go +to such trouble for a lot of lonely, hungry fellows like us." + +"Goodness sakes!" she cried, delighted at his words and pleased at the +way he had parried her husband's teasing thrust. "Why, it was no trouble +at all--you are all my boys now, you know." + +"Thank you, Mrs. Shields," he replied slowly. "We will do our very best +to prove ourselves worthy of being called your boys." + +The sheriff regarded The Orphan with a look of approbation and turned to +his sister Helen. + +"He ain't nobody's fool, eh, Sis?" he whispered. "I'm wondering how you +ever made up your mind to share him with us!" + +"Oh, please don't!" she begged in confusion. "Please don't tease me now!" + +"All right, Sis," he replied in a whisper, pinching her ear. "I'll save +it all up for some other time, some time when he ain't around to turn it +off, eh? But I don't blame him a bit for exploring the yard first--you're +the prettiest girl this side of sun-up," he said, beaming with love and +pride. "How's that for a change, eh? Worth a kiss?" + +She kissed him hurriedly and then left the room to attend to her duties +in the kitchen, and he sauntered over to where The Orphan was talking with +Mrs. Shields, his hand rubbing his lips and a mischievous twinkle in his +kind eyes. + +"Did you notice the new flower-bed right by the side of the house as you +ran past it a while ago?" he asked, flashing a keen warning to his wife. + +The Orphan searched his memory for the flower-bed and not finding it, +turned and smiled, not willing to admit that his attention had been too +fully taken up with a fairer flower than ever grew in earth. + +"Why, yes, it is real pretty," he replied. "What about it?" + +"Oh, nothing much," gravely replied the sheriff as he edged away. "Only +we were thinking of putting a flower-bed there, although I haven't had +time to get at it yet." + +The Orphan flushed and glanced quickly at the outfit, who were too busy +cracking jokes and laughing to pay any attention to the conversation +across the room. + +"James!" cried Mrs. Shields. "Aren't you ashamed of yourself!" + +"When you tickle a mule," said the sheriff, grinning at his friend, "you +want to look out for the kick. Come again sometime, Sonny." + +"James!" his wife repeated, "how can you be so mean! Now, stop teasing and +behave yourself!" + +"For a long time I've been puzzled about what you resembled, but now +I have your words for it," easily countered The Orphan. "Thank you for +putting me straight." + +The sheriff grinned sheepishly and scratched his head: "I'm an old fool," +he grumbled, and forthwith departed to tell Helen of the fencing. + +Mrs. Shields excused herself and followed her husband into the kitchen to +look after the dinner, and The Orphan sauntered over to his outfit just +as Jim looked out of a rear window. Jim turned quickly, his face wearing +a grin from ear to ear. + +"Hey, Bud!" he called eagerly. "Bud!" + +"What?" asked Bud, turning at the hail. + +"Come over here for a minute, I want to show you something," Jim replied, +"but don't let Humble come." + +Bud obeyed and looked: "Jimminee!" he exulted. "Don't that look sumptious, +though? This is where we shine, all right." Then turned: "Hey, fellows, +come over here and take a look." + +As they crowded around the window Humble discovered that something was +in the wind and he followed them. What they saw was a long table beneath +two trees, and it was covered with a white cloth and dressed for a feast. +Bud turned quickly from the crowd and forcibly led Humble to a side +window before that unfortunate had seen anything and told him to put +his finger against the glass, which Humble finally did after an argument. + +"Feel the pain?" Bud asked. + +"Why, no," Humble replied, looking critically at his finger. "What's the +matter with you, anyhow?" + +"Nothing," replied Bud. "Think it over, Humble," he advised, turning away. + +Humble again put his finger to the glass and then snorted: + +"Locoed chump! Prosperity is making him nutty!" When he turned he saw his +friends laughing silently at him and making grimaces, and a light suddenly +broke in upon him. + +"Yes, I did!" he cried. "That joke is so old I plumb forgot it years ago! +Spring something that hasn't got whiskers and a halting step, will you?" + +Jim laughed and suggested a dance, but was promptly squelched. + +"You heathen!" snorted Blake in mock horror. "This is Sunday! If you want +to dance wait till you get back to the ranch--suppose one of the women was +here and heard you say that!" + +"Gee, I forgot all about it being Sunday," replied Jim, quickly looking +to see if any of the women were in the room. "We're regular barbarians, +ain't we!" he exclaimed in self-condemnation and relief when he saw that +no women were present. "We're regular land pirates, ain't we?" + +"You'll be asking to play poker yet, or have a race," jabbed Humble with +malice. "You ain't got no sense and never did have any." + +"Huh!" retorted Jim belligerently, "I won't try to learn a Chinee cook +how to play poker and get skinned out of my pay, anyhow! Got enough?" +he asked, "or shall I tell of the time you drifted into Sagetown and +asked----" + +"Shut up, you fool!" whispered Humble ferociously. "Yu'll get skun if you +say too much!" + +"'Skun' is real good," retorted Jim. "Got any more of them new words to +spring on us?" + +Helen had been passing to and fro past the window and Docile Thomas here +put his marveling into words, for he had been casting covert glances at +her, but now his restraint broke. + +"Gee whiz!" he exclaimed in a whisper to Jack Lawson. "Ain't she a regular +hummer, now! Lines like a thoroughbred, face like a dream and a smile +what shore is a winner! See her hair--fine and dandy, eh? She's in the +two-forty class, all right!" he enthused. "Why, when this country wakes +up to what's in it the sheriff will have to put up a stockade around this +house and mount guard. Everybody from Bill up will be stampeding this way +to talk business with the sheriff. No wonder The Orphan has got a bee +in his bonnet--lucky dog!" + +"She can take care of my pay every month just as soon as she says the +word," Jack replied. "But suppose you look away once in a while? Suppose +you shift your sights! You, too, Humble," he said, suddenly turning on +the latter. + +"Me what?" asked Humble, without interest and without shifting his gaze. +"What are you talking about?" + +"Look at something else, see?" + +"Shore I see," replied Humble. "That's why I'm looking. Do you think I +look with my eyes shut! Gee, but ain't she a picture, though!" + +"She shore is, but give it a rest, take a vacation, you chump!" retorted +Jack. "You're staring at her like she had you hoodooed. Come out of your +trance--wake up and make a fool of yourself some other way. Don't aim all +the time at her. Mebby Lee Lung has killed your dog!" + +"If he has we'll need a new cook," replied Humble with decision. + +"Come on, boys! Don't start milling!" cried the sheriff, suddenly entering +the room. "Dinner's all ready and waiting for us. And I shore hope you +have all got your best appetites with you, because Margaret likes to +see her food taken care of lively. If you don't clean it all up she'll +think you don't like it," he said, winking at Blake, "and if she once +gets that notion in her head it will be no more invitations for the Star +C." + +There was much excitement in the crowd, and the replies came fast. + +"I ain't had anything good to eat for fifteen long, aching years!" cried +Bud. "When I get through you'll need a new table. + +"Same here, only for thirty years," replied Jim hastily. "I just couldn't +sleep last night for thinking about the glorious surprise my abused +stomach was due to have to-day. I'll bet my gun on my performance if +the track is heavy, all right. I'm not poor on speed, and I'm a stayer +from Stayersville." + +"Well, I won't be among the also rans, you can bet on that," laughed +Silent. "I don't weigh very much, but I'm geared high." + +"I'll bet it's good!" cried Humble, "I'll bet it's real good!" + +"D----n good, you mean!" corrected Jack. "Hey, fellows!" he cried, "did +you hear what Humble said? He said that he'd bet it was _real_ good!" + +"Horray for Humble, the wit of the Star C," laughed Docile. + +"Me for the apricot pie!" exulted Charley. "Here's where I get square on +Blake for rubbing it in all these months about the fine pie he gets over +here." + +"There ain't no apricot pie," gravely lied the sheriff in surprise. + +"What!" cried Charley in alarm. "There ain't none for me! Oh, well, you +can't lose me in daylight, for I'll double up on everything else. I ain't +going to get left, all right!" + +"Don't wake me up," begged Joe Haines. "Let me dream on in peace and +plenty. Grub, real, genuine grub, grub what is grub! Oh, joy!" + +Mrs. Shields hurried into the room and then paused in surprise when she +saw that the outfit had not moved toward the feast. + +"Land sakes!" she cried. "Aren't you boys hungry, or is James up to some +of his everlasting teasing again!" + +"You talk to her, Bud," whispered Jim eagerly. "I'm so scary I shore +can't." + +"Yes, go ahead, Bud!" came instant and unanimous endorsement in whispers. + +"Well, ma'am," began Bud, clearing his throat, glancing around uneasily +to be sure that the crowd was giving him moral backing, and feeling +uncomfortable, "we was just getting up a--a----" + +"B, C, D," prompted Jim in a whisper. + +"We was just getting up a resolution of thanks, Mrs. Shields," he +continued, stabbing his elbow into the stomach of the offending Jim. +"You shut up!" he fiercely whispered. "I'm carrying one hundred and +forty pounds now without the saddle!" Then he continued: "We all of us +are plumb tickled about this, so plumb tickled we don't hardly know what +to say----" + +"That's right," whispered Jim, folding his arms across his stomach. +"You're proving it, all right." + +Silent and Jack hauled Jim to the rear and Bud continued unruffled: "But +we want to thank you, ma'am, from the bottoms, the very lowest bottoms of +our hearts for your kindness to a orphant outfit what ain't had anything +to eat since the war, and very little during it. Joe Haines, here, ma'am, +was just saying as how he was a-scared that it is all a dream----" + +"I didn't neither!" fiercely contradicted Joe in a whisper, looking very +self-conscious. He was whisked to the rear to join Jim and the speech went +on. + +"He is afraid it is a dream, ma'am, and I know we all of us have more or +less doubts about it being really true. But, ma'am, we shore are anxious +to find out all about it. We've rid thirty miles to see for ourselves, +and I don't reckon you'll have any fears about our appetites being left +at home when you sizes up the wreck left in the path of the storm after +the stampede is over. The boys want to give you three cheers even if it +is Sunday, ma'am, for your kindness to them, and I'm shore one of the +boys!" + +"Hip, hip, horray!" yelled the crowd, surging forward. + +"Good boy, Bud!" they cried. + +"I'm proud of you, Buddie!" exulted Charley, slapping him extra heartily +on the back. + +"I didn't know you had it in you, Bud!" cried Silent. "It was shore a +dandy speech, all right." + +"We'll send you to Congress for that, some day, Bud," cried Jack Lawson. +"You're all right!" + + "I once had a piece of pie, a piece of pie, a piece of pie, + I once had a piece of pie, when I was five years old," + +sang Charley as he pranced toward the door. + +"Good! Go on, Charley, go on!" cried his companions joyously. + + "Now I'll have another piece, another piece, another piece, + Now I'll have another piece, that's two all told. + + Good bye, Lee Lung, good bye Lee Lung, + Good bye, Lee Lung, we're going to forget you now!" + +"Again on that Lee Lung, altogether--it hits me right!" cried Bud, and the +matter pertaining to the farewells to Lee Lung was promptly and properly +attended to in heartfelt sincerity. + +The ladies laughed with delight, and Mrs. Shields whispered to her +husband, who nodded and escorted The Orphan to a seat near the head of the +table, where he was flanked by Helen and Blake. + +"Grab your partners, boys," the sheriff cried, pointing to the chairs. +There was a hasty piling of belts and guns on the ground, and after much +confusion all were seated. + +The sheriff arose: "Boys, Mrs. Shields wants me to tell you how pleased +she is to have you all here. She has felt plumb sorry about you and she +shore has shuddered at the thought of a Chinee cook----" + +"Which same we all do--it's chronic," interposed Jim to laughter. + +"She wants you to make yourselves at home," continued the sheriff, "learn +the lay of the land around this range and never forget the trail leading +here, because she insists that when any of you come to town you have +simply got to pay us a visit and see if there is a piece of pie or cake +to eat before you go back to that cook. And Tom says that he'll fire +the first man who renigs----" + +"I'm going to carry the mail hereafter!" cried Bud, scowling fiercely at +Joe. + +"Not if I can shoot first, you don't!" retorted the mail carrier. "I was +just a-wondering if it wouldn't be better to come in twice a week for it +instead of once. We might get more letters." + +"We'll bid for your job next year," laughed Silent. + +"Before I coax you to eat," continued the sheriff, "I----" + +"Wrong word, Sheriff," interposed Humble. "Not coax, but force." + +"I am going to ask you to reverse things a little, and drink a standing +toast to the man who saved the stage, to the man who saved Miss Ritchie +and my sisters and who made this dinner possible. This would be far from a +happy day but for him. I want you to drink to the long life and happiness +of The Orphan. All up!" + +The clink of glasses was lost in the spontaneous cheer which burst from +the lips of the former outlaw's new friends, and he sat confused and +embarrassed with a sudden timidity, his face crimson. + +"Speech!" cried Jim, the others joining in the cry. "Speech! Speech!" + +Finally, after some urging, The Orphan slowly arose to his feet, a foolish +smile playing about his lips. + +"It wasn't anything," he said deprecatingly. "You all would have done it, +every one of you. But I'm glad it was me. I'm glad I was on hand, although +it wasn't anything to make all this fuss about," and he dropped suddenly +into his seat, feeling hot and uncomfortable. + +"Well, we have different ideas about its being nothing," replied the +sheriff. "Now, boys, a toast to Bill Halloway," he requested. "Bill +couldn't get here to-day, but we mustn't forget him. His splendid grit +and driving made it possible for our friend to play his hand so well." + +"Hurrah for Bill!" cried Silent, leaping to his feet with the others. When +seated again he looked quickly at his glass and turned to Bud. + +"Real sweet cider!" he exulted. "Good Lord, but how time gallops past! +I'd almost forgotten what it was like! It's been over twenty years since I +tasted any! Ain't it fine?" + +"I was wondering what it was," remarked Humble, a trace of awe in his +voice as he refilled his glass. "It's shore enough sweet cider, and blamed +good, too!" + +Charley was romping with the mail carrier and he had a sudden inspiration: +"Speech from Joe! Speech for the pieces of pie and cake he's due to get!" + +"Now, look here, boy," Joe gravely replied. "I'm the mail carrier. I +don't have to go on jury duty, lead religion round-ups, go to war or make +speeches. As the books say, I'm exempt. All I have to do is punch cows, +rustle the mail and eat pie and cake once a week," he said, glancing +at Bud, who glared and groaned. + +"Good boy, Joe!" cried Humble, waving his glass excitedly. "You're shore +all right, you are, and I'm your deputy, ain't I?" + +"No, not my deputy, but my delirium," corrected Joe. + +"Glory be!" cried Silent as his plate was passed to him. "Chicken, real +chicken! Mashed potatoes, mashed turnips and dressing and gravy! And +here comes stewed corn, boiled onions and jelly and mother's bread. And +stewed tomatoes? Well, well! I guess we ain't going to be well fed, and +real happy, eh, fellows? My stomach won't know what's the matter--it'll +think it died and went to heaven by mistake. Holy smoke! It hurts my +eyes. What, cranberry jam? Well, I'm just going to close my eyes for a +minute if you don't mind; I want to recuperate from the shock. This is +where I live again!" + +Humble stared in rapture at the feast before him and finally heaved a long +drawn sigh of doubt and content. + +"Gee!" he cried softly, a far-away look in his eyes. "Look at it, just +look at it! Just like I used to get when I was a little tad back in +Connecticut--but that was shore a long time ago. Well," he exclaimed, +bracing up and bravely forgetting his boyhood, "there's one thing I hope, +and that is that Lee beats my dog. Then I can shoot him and get square +for all these years of imitation grub what he's handed out to me!" + +"Hey, Tom!" eagerly cried Charley, "why can't we handle a herd of chickens +out on the ranch, and have a garden? Why, we could have eggs every day +and chickens on holidays!" + +"No wonder Tom likes to ride to town," laughed Silent. "Gee whiz, I'd walk +it for pie and cake and real genuine coffee!" + +"Walk it!" snorted Jim. "Huh, I'd crawl, and stand on my head, knock my +feet together and crow every half mile! Walk it, huh!" + +Merriment reigned supreme throughout the meal and when the bashfulness had +worn off the conversation became fast and furious, abounding in terse wit, +verbal attacks and clever counters, and in concentrated onslaughts +against the unfortunate Humble, who soon found, however, a new and +loyal champion in Miss Ritchie, who took his part. Her assistance was so +doughty as to more than once put to rout his tormentors, and before the +dessert had been reached he was her devoted slave and admirer and was +henceforth to sing her praises at every opportunity, and even to make +opportunities. + +At The Orphan's end of the table all was serene. He, Helen, Blake and +the sheriff found much to talk about, and all the while Mrs. Shields +regarded the four in a motherly way, and tempered the keenness of her +husband's wit, for he was prone to break lances with The Orphan and to +tease his sister, much to her confusion. She was very happy, for here +at her side were her husband and the man she had feared would harm him, +laughing and joking and the best of friends; and down the table a crowd +of big-hearted boys, her boys now, were having the time of their lives. +They were good boys, too, she told herself; a trifle rough, but sterling +at the heart, and every one of them a loyal friend. How good it was to +see them eat and hear them laugh, all happy and mischievous. The welding +of the units had been finished, and now the Star C and The Orphan were +one in spirit. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +PREPARATION + + +After the dinner at the sheriff's house, life meant much to The Orphan, +for the dinner had done its work and done it well. Whatever had been +missing to complete the good fellowship between him and the others had +been supplied and by the time the outfit was ready to leave for home, +all corners had been rounded and all rough edges smoothed down. With +his outfit he was in hearty, loyal accord, and the spirit of the ranch +had become his own. With the sheriff his already strong liking had been +stripped of any undesirable qualities, and he felt that Shields was not +only the whitest man he had ever met, but also his best friend. He had +become more intimate with the sheriff's household, and for Mrs. Shields he +had only love and respect. + +With Helen his cup was full to overflowing, for he had managed to hold +several long talks with her during the afternoon, and to his mind he had +heard nothing detrimental to his hopes. His eyes had been opened as to +what it was he had been hungering for, and the knowledge thrilled him to +his finger-tips. He was a red-blooded, clean-limbed man, direct of words +and purpose, reveling in a joyous, surging, vigorous health, in tune with +his surroundings; he was dominant, fearless, and he had a saving grace +in his humor. To him came visions of the future, golden as the sunrise, +rich in promise and assurance as to a happiness such as he could only +feebly feel. Himself he was sure of, for he feared no failure on his part; +as far as he was concerned it was won. Helen, he believed from what the +day had given him, would not refuse him when the time came for her to +decide, and his effervescent spirits sent a song to his lips, which he +hurled to the sky as a war-cry, a slogan of triumph and a defiance. + +As yet he knew nothing of the sheriff's plans, and his thoughts concerning +his future position in the community did not dare to soar above that of +foreman of some ranch. To this end he would bend his energies with all the +power of his splendid trinity--heart, mind and body. He was far too +happy to think of failure, because there would be none; had the word +passed through his mind he would have laughed it into oblivion. His +experience gave him confidence, for he was no weakling sheltered and +protected by any guiding angel; to the contrary, he was the survivor +of a bitter war against conditions which would have destroyed a less +strong man; he was victor over himself and his enemies, a conqueror +of adverse conditions, a hewer of his own path; his enemies had been +his best friends, and his long fight, his salvation. For ten years he +had constantly fought a bitter fight against nature and man; hunger and +thirst, plots and ambushes had all played their parts, and he had won +out over all of them. He was young, hopeful and unafraid, and now that he +was on the right trail he would bend every energy to stay there, and +he would stay there, be the opposition what it might; and if the +opposition should be man, and of a strength dangerous to him, he would +destroy it as he had destroyed others before it. While now scorning to +use his gun on every provocation he would depend upon it as on a court +of last resort--and its decision would be final. + +He held ill wishes against no man save one, and that one was the man who +had placed the rope about the neck of his father. He did not know that +man's name, and he did not know that he might not be among those who had +already paid for that crime. But should he ever learn that he lived he +would take payment in full be the cost what it might. + +But he had no thoughts for strife, he only knew that the sun had never +been so bright, the sky so blue and the plain so full of life and beauty +as it was on this perfect day. Only one other day rivaled it--the day he +had swayed weakly by the side of a dusty coach and had felt warm, soft +fingers touching his forehead. But, he told himself with joy, there would +be days to come which would eclipse even that. + +He was aroused from his reverie by the approach of the foreman, who gave +him a hearty hail and smiled at the happy expression on the puncher's face. + +"Well, you look like you had struck it rich!" cried Blake. "What is it, +gold or silver?" + +"Gold or silver!" cried The Orphan in contempt at such cheapness. "By God, +Blake, I wouldn't sell my claim for all the gold and silver in this fool +earth! Gold or silver! Why, man, I know where there is plenty of both. +Here," he cried, plunging his hand into his chaps pocket, "look at this!" + +The foreman looked and whistled and took the object into his hand, where +he examined it critically. "By George, it's the yellow metal, all right, +and blamed near pure!" He returned it to its owner and added: "That's the +real stuff, Orphan." + +"Yes, it is," replied the other as he pocketed the nugget. "And I know +where it came from. There's plenty left that's just like it, but I +wouldn't go after it if it was diamonds." + +"You wouldn't!" exclaimed Blake in surprise. "By George, I'd go to-morrow, +to-night, if I knew. Gold like that ain't to be sneered at. It spells +ranches, ease, plenty, anything you want. And you wouldn't go for it?" + +"No, I wouldn't, and I won't," replied the puncher. "I'm going to stay +right here on this range and make good with my hands and brains. I'm +going to win the game with the cards I hold, and when I say win I mean it. +There are times when gold is a dangerous thing to have, and this is one +of them, as you'll understand when I disclose my hand. When I win I won't +need gold bad enough to go through hell and hot water for it and risk not +getting back to my claim, and it's one hundred to one that I wouldn't +get back, too. And if I lose, mind you, _if_, I won't have any use for +it. I picked that nugget up in the middle of the damnedest desert God +ever made, and when I got off it I was loco for a week. I won't tell +any friend of mine where it is because I want my friends to go on drawing +their breath. I need my friends a whole lot, and that's why I don't tell +you where it is. I was saving that for my enemies. Two have gone after +it already, and haven't been heard of since." + +"Well, you are the first man who ever told me that gold isn't worth going +after, and you have convinced me that in your case you are right," laughed +the foreman. + +"You wouldn't have to be told if you knew that desert as I do," replied +The Orphan. + +"How was the sheriff last night?" asked Blake. "Or didn't you notice, +being too much occupied in your claim?" + +The Orphan looked at him and then laughed softly: "He was the same as +ever--the best man I ever knew. But how in thunder do you know about my +claim? How did you know what I meant? I thought that I had covered that +trail pretty well." + +Blake put his hand on his friend's shoulders and gravely looked at him: +"Son, having eyes, I see; having ears, I hear; having brains, I think. +If you have been fooling yourself that you are on a quiet trail, just +listen to this: There ain't a man who knows you well that don't know what +you're playing for, even Bill had it all mapped out the second time he +saw you. And most of us wish you luck. You're not a man who needs help, +but if you _do_ need it, you know where to come for it." + +"Thank you, Blake," replied The Orphan, eagerly filling his lungs with the +crisp air. "That's why I ain't hankering for that gold--I'm too blamed +busy making my own." + +"Well, what I wanted to speak to you about is this," said the foreman, +thinking quickly as to how to say it. "Old man Crawford got me to promise +that I'd pick up a herd of cows for him before fall. Now, I would just +as soon do it myself as not, but if you want to try your hand at it, go +ahead. He wants about five thousand, to be delivered in five herds, a +thousand each, at his corrals. He won't pay any more than the regular +price for them, and the more you can drop the price the better he will +like it, of course. They must be good, healthy cattle and be delivered +to him before payment is made. What do you say?" + +"I say that it's a go!" cried The Orphan. "I've had some great luck +lately!" he exulted. "I'm ready to go after them whenever you say the +word, to-night if you say so. And I'll get the right number and kind +or know the reason why. And I'll take a hand in driving the last herd to +him myself. Good Lord, what luck!" + +Blake talked a while longer about the trip, giving necessary instructions +about prices and where he would be likely to find the herd, and then +rode off in the direction of Ford's Station for a consultation with his +friend, the sheriff. + +"Hullo, Tom!" came from the stage office as he rode past. He quickly +turned his head and then stopped, smiling broadly. + +"Why, hullo, Bill," he replied. "Glad to see you. How are things? Had any +trouble lately?" + +"Nope, times are real dull since that day in the defile," Bill answered +with a grin. "I saw Tex once at Sagetown, but he ain't talking none +these days, he's too busy thinking. You see, I've got a purty strong +combination backing me and nobody feels like starting it a-going, because +there ain't no telling just where it'll stop. The Orphant and the sheriff +make a blamed good team, all right." + +"None better at any game, Bill," replied Blake. "And you used the right +word, too. They're going to pull together from now on, in fact, the Star +C will be in harness with them." + +"That's the way to talk!" cried Bill enthusiastically. "I always said +that Orphant was a white man, even before I ever saw him," he said, +forgetting much that he might be in hearty accord. "He can call on me +any time he needs me, you bet. He cheated the devil twice with me, and I +ain't a-going to forget it. But say, what do you think of the sheriff's +sister, Helen? Ain't she a winner, hey? Finest girl these parts have +ever seen, all right, and her friend ain't second by no length, neither." + +"Why, Bill," exclaimed Blake, a twinkle coming to his eyes, "you are not +allowing yourself to get captured, are you? That's a risky game, like +starting up The Orphan and the sheriff, for there's no telling just where +it will stop." + +"No, I ain't letting myself get captured," sighed Bill. "I ain't no fool. +Bill Howland knows a thing or two, which he learned not more than a +thousand years ago. I've got it all sized up. And since then I've seen +a certain bang-up puncher hitting the trail for the sheriff's house some +regular twice a week. Nope, I'm a batchler now and forever, long may +I wave." + +"Say," he continued, suddenly remembering something. "What's the sheriff +up to now? Is he going to have a picnic out on Crawford's ranch? He asked +me if he could have the lend of the stage on an off day some time soon. +Wants me to drive it for him out to the A-Y and back. I don't know what +his game is, and I don't care none. I'll do it, all right. But what's he +going to do out there, anyhow?" + +Blake laughed: "Oh, nothing bad, I reckon. You'll probably learn all about +it as soon as the rest of us. How do you expect me to know anything about +it? Mebby he is going to have a picnic out there for all we know. The +A-Y is a good place for one, ain't it?" + +"You just bet it is," cried Bill. "Your ranch is all right, Blake, but I +like the A-Y better. It's got windmills and everything. Finest grove near +the ranch-house that I ever saw, and I've seen some fine groves in my +time. Old man Crawford knew a good thing when he saw it, all right. +Here comes Charley Winter like he had all day to go nowhere--he's got a +good job with the Cross Bar-8, but I wouldn't have it for a gift--no, +sir, money wouldn't tempt me to be one of that outfit. But I reckon +it's some better out there than it once was since the sheriff and The +Orphant amputated its inflamed fingers. Hullo, Charley," he cried as the +newcomer drew rein. "I was just telling Blake what a good job you have +got with Sneed." + +"Hullo, you old one-hoss driver," grinned Charley. "Hullo, Tom," he cried. +"Looking for the sheriff?" + +"Hullo, Charley," said the foreman, shaking hands with Sneed's substitute +puncher. "Yes, I am. Do you know where he is?" + +"He's out at the Cross Bar-8, giving Sneed a talking to," Charley +answered. "Bucknell went and got loaded again last night, raised h--l +in town and out of it all the way home. He thought he wanted to shoot +up The Orphan, so he was some primed. Jim is telling Sneed to hold him +down to water and peace unless he wants to lose him. He'll be in soon, +though. How's The Orphan getting on out at your place?" + +"Fine!" answered Blake, his face wearing a frown. "But I'm some sorry +about that fool Bucknell, though. He may get on a spree some day and +_find_ The Orphan. I don't want any more gunplay, and if that idiot does +find him and gets ambitious to notch up his gun another hole, there'll +shore be some loose lead. If he ever gets on Star C ground, and I catch +him there, I'll shore enough wipe up the earth with him, and when you +see him, just tell him what I said, will you? It ain't no joke, for I +will." + +"Shore I'll tell him," replied Charley. "When will that bunch of cattle +be on hand--I'm anxious to swap jobs." + +Blake flashed him a warning glance and tried to ignore the question by +changing the subject, but it was too late, for Bill was curious. + +"What cattle is that, Charley?" asked the driver in sudden interest. + +"Oh, some cattle that I'm going to get of Blake for Sneed," lied Charley +easily. + +"What in all get out does Sneed want with any Star C cows?" Bill asked in +surprise. "He's got plenty of cows of his own, unless The Orphant shot a +whole lot more than I thought he did." + +"I don't know, Bill," replied Charley. "I didn't ask him, it being plainly +none of my business." + +Bill scratched his head: "No, I reckon not," he replied doubtfully. + +"Here comes Shields now," said Blake suddenly. "I reckon I'll ride off +and meet him. So long, Bill." + +"So long," replied Bill. "Be sure to tell The Orphan I was asking about +him. So long, Charley." He turned abruptly and entered the stage office: +"I don't understand it," he muttered. "There's something in the wind that +I can't get onto nohow. He has shore got me guessing some, all right." + +The clerk tossed aside the paper and stared: "Well, that's too d----d +bad, now ain't it?" he asked sarcastically. "You ought to object, that's +what you ought to do! What right has anybody to keep quiet about their +own business when you want to know, hey? If I wanted to know everybody's +business as bad as you do, I'd shore raise h--l, I would. Why don't you +choke it out of him, wipe up the earth with him? Go out right now and give +him a piece of your mind." + +"Oh, you would, would you! You're blamed smart, now ain't you? You work +too hard--your nerves are giving away," drawled Bill as he picked up the +paper. "Sitting around all day with your feet on the table and a pipe in +your mouth that you're too lazy to light, working like the very devil +trying to find time to do the company's business, which there ain't none +to do. Ain't you ashamed to go to bed?--it must take a lot of gall to +hunt your rest at night after finding it and hugging it all day. What +would you do for a living if I forgot to bring the paper with me some day, +hey? You ain't got enough animation to want to know what is going on in +this little world of ours, you----" + +"You get out of here, right now, too!" yelled the clerk. "I don't want you +hanging around bothering me, you pest! Get out of here right now, before I +get up and throw you out! Do you hear me!" + +Bill crossed his legs, pushed back his sombrero, turned the page carefully +and then remarked, "I licked four husky cow-punchers, real bad men, last +month. One right after the other, and I was purty near all in, too." He +glanced at the next page disinterestedly, spat at a fly on the edge of +the box cuspidor and then added wearily and with great deprecation, "I'm +feeling fine to-day, never felt so good in my life, but I need more +exercise--I'm two pounds over weight right now." + +The clerk showed interest and awe: "Weight?" he asked. "What is your +fighting weight?" + +Bill looked up aggressively: "Fighting weight?" he asked, raising his +eyebrows. "My _fighting_ weight is something over nine hundred pounds, +when I'm real mad. Ordinarily, one hundred and eighty. Why?" + +"Oh, nothing," replied the clerk, staring out of the window. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE ORPHAN GOES TO THE A-Y + + +The A-Y had been a very busy place for the past two weeks because of the +cattle which had to be re-branded and taken care of, and of other things +which had to be done about the ranch. The sheriff had taken title and +had persuaded Crawford to remain in nominal charge for a month at the +most so as to keep the sale a secret until the new owner would be ready to +make it known. So word went around that Crawford had hired the sheriff to +put things on a paying basis and that half of the old outfit had left, +their places being filled by Charley, the two Larkin brothers and two +men from a northern ranch. + +Shields had been very much pleased with the cattle which The Orphan +had bought for him and had asked Blake if he could borrow the new +puncher to help him get things in good running shape. Blake had told The +Orphan of the sheriff's request and had advised him to accept, which the +puncher was very glad to do. So this is how the former outlaw became +temporary foreman of the A-Y under the sheriff. Only the sheriff's most +intimate friends knew his plans, one of whom was Charley Winter, who +found food for mirth in the unique position things had taken. The +sheriff's deputies who had lain out-doors all night on the Cross Bar-8 +waiting to capture or kill the outlaw were now working under him, and +the best of feelings prevailed. The man who had hunted The Orphan now +employed him as the bearer of the responsibilities of the new ranch. +Truly, a change! + +While The Orphan was busy with his duties on the A-Y the sheriff rode to +the Star C and sought out the foreman, whom he finally found engaged in +freeing a cow that had become mired in a quicksand. As the terror-stricken +animal galloped wildly away from the scene of torture and indignities to +its person Blake mopped his face and began to scrape the quicksand from +him. + +"Playing life-saver, eh?" laughed the sheriff. + +The foreman looked up and smiled sheepishly: "Yes," he replied as he shook +hands with the sheriff. "One cow more or less won't make nor break no +ranch, but I just can't see 'em suffer. The boys and I were passing, so +we stopped and got to work. But cows ain't got no gratitude, not nohow! +That ornery beast will be all ready to charge me the first time he sees +me afoot. Did you see him try to horn me when I let go?" + +His friend laughed, and when they had ridden some distance from the others +he turned in his saddle: + +"Well, The Orphan is working like a horse, and he likes it, too," he +said. "You ought to hear him giving orders--he just asks a man to do a +thing, don't order it done. When he talks it sounds like the puncher +would be doing him the greatest possible favor to do the work he is paid +to do, but there is a suggestion that if any nastiness develops, hell +will be a peaceful place compared to the near vicinity of the foreman +of the A-Y. He sizes up a thing with one look, and then tells how it +should be done. Everything has gone off so fine that I'm going to ask +you to lose a good man, and real soon, too. What do you say, Tom?" + +Blake laughed: "Why, we were a-plenty before he came and we'll be a-plenty +after he goes. That's for your asking me to turn him over to you. The +boys will be both sorry and glad to have him leave, because they like +him a whole lot. But of course they want to see him land everything +that he can, so they'll give him a good send-off. That reminds me to +say that I know they will want to be on hand when you break the news to +him. It'll be a circus for your Eastern friend, Miss Ritchie." + +"Now you're talking!" enthused the sheriff. "I want to have as many +fireworks at the ceremony as I can possibly get. Oh, it'll be a great +day, all right. We are all going out and take a bang-up lunch, just +like we're going on that picnic that Bill's been so worried about, and +Bill is going to drive the women over in his coach. The first surprise +will be the announcement of the new ownership of the A-Y, and right on +top of it I'm going to fire the second gun. I hope none of your boys +know anything about it," he added with anxiety. + +"Not a thing," hastily replied the foreman. "You have your wife send a +message to me by Joe when he rustles our mail to-morrow and ask us to come +to the picnic at the A-Y on the day which you will decide on. They'll go, +all right, no fear about that. Nothing more than your wife's cooking is +needed to attract them," and he laughed heartily at how suddenly they +would come to life at such a summons. + +Shields thought intently for a few seconds and then slapped his thigh: +"I've got it!" he exulted. "I'll ride over to your place with you and +write a letter to my wife telling her just what to do. Joe can deliver +it and bring back the invitation. You see, I won't be home to-night, but +that will do the trick, all right. Now, what do you say to this coming +Saturday?--this is, let me see: Wednesday. Will that be time enough for +you to make any arrangements you may want to make?" + +"Shore, plenty of time," Blake laughed. "It's good all the way. Joe will +be delighted to have a real good excuse to call at your house. He's a +bashful cuss, like all the rest. They talk big, but they're some bashful +all the same. He's been worrying about it, for one day he came to me +with a funny expression on his face and acted like he didn't know how +to begin. So I asked him what was troubling him, and he blurted out like +this, as near as I can remember: + +"'Well, you know Mrs. Shields said we was to go to her house when any of +us hit town?' he asked. + +"'I shore do,' I answered, wondering what was up. + +"'Well, I go to town a lot, and it takes a h--l of a lot of gall to do +it,' he complained, looking so serious that it was funny. + +"'Gall!' said I, surprised-like, and trying to keep my face straight. +'Gall! Well, I can't see that it takes such a brave man to call at a +friend's house when he's been told to do it.' + +"'Oh, that part of it is all right," he replied. 'But she'll think I only +call to get my face fed, and it makes me feel like a--I don't know what. +You see, I always get away quick.' + +"'Well, stay longer, there ain't no use of being in a hurry,' I said. +'Stay and talk a while.' + +"'Then they'll think I ain't got enough and push more pie at me, like they +did once,' he complained. + +"'Suppose I give Silent your terrible ordeal to do,' I suggested +tentatively, 'or Bud, he's dead anxious for your job.' + +"'Oh, it ain't as bad as that!' he cried quickly. 'I only thought that +I'd speak to you about it. I thought you could suggest something.' + +"'Well,' I replied, 'every time you call you say I sent you over to ask +about the sheriff's health. How'll that do?' + +"He grinned sheepishly and then swore: 'H--l, that would make a shore +enough mess of it,' he cried. 'I'd be a royal American idiot to say a +thing like that, now, wouldn't I?'" + +The sheriff laughed heartily, and they talked about the picnic until they +had reached the ranch-house, where he wrote the note to his wife. Bidding +his friend good-by, he rode out past the corrals and headed for the A-Y. + +When about half-way to his own ranch, and on A-Y ground, he surmounted a +rise and saw a figure flit from sight behind a thicket, and his curiosity +was immediately aroused. Not knowing who the man might be, he stalked his +quarry and finally found Bucknell standing beside his horse. + +"Well, what's the trouble now?" the sheriff asked as he came out into +sight. He was dangerously near angry, for Bucknell was on forbidden ground +and was flushed as if from liquor. "What's the trouble?" he repeated. + +Bucknell looked confused: "Nothing, Sheriff. Why?" he asked, evading the +searching gaze of the peace officer. + +"Oh, I thought something might have gone wrong on the Cross Bar-8, and +that you were looking for me," Shields coldly replied. + +Bucknell looked at the ground and coughed nervously before he replied, +which only made the sheriff all the more determined to get at the matter +in a true light. + +"No, nothing's wrong," replied the puncher. "I was just riding out this +way--I was some nervous, that's all." + +"That don't go with me!" the sheriff said sharply. "I've lived too long +to bite on a yarn like that. Why, you can't look at me!" + +The puncher did not reply and the sheriff continued: + +"Now, look here, Bucknell, take some good advice from me--stay on your +ranch, mind your own business and let liquor alone. As sure as you +monkey around the Star C Blake will give you a d----n sound licking, and +he's man enough to do it, too, make no error. And as for the A-Y, well, +the temporary foreman of that ranch is the cleverest man with a gun that I +ever saw, and I've seen some good ones in my time. If you go up against +him you'll get shot, for he'd think you were about the easiest proposition +he ever met. As sure as you drink you'll get drunk, and as sure as you +get drunk you'll work up an appetite for a fight, and if you pick a +fight with him you'll never know what hit you. You stick to water and +the Cross Bar-8." + +"Oh, I reckon I can take care of my own business," sullenly replied +Bucknell. "I can come out here drunk or sober if I wants to, I reckon." + +"You can do nothing of the kind," rejoined the sheriff. "And you certainly +ought to be able to take care of your own business, as you say," he +retorted, holding his temper with an effort. "But in the past you didn't, +and you may not in the future. And when your business gets too big for you +to handle it gets into my hands, and if you make any trouble I'll d----n +soon convince you that I can handle your surplus. Now, get out of here and +think it over." + +Bucknell swung into his saddle and then turned, the liquor making him +reckless. + +"D----n it!" he cried. "The Orphant killed Jimmy and a whole lot more good +cow-punchers! He's nothing but a murdering thief, a d----d rustler, that's +what he is! And you are his best friend, it seems!" + +The wan smile flickered across the sheriff's face, but still he refrained, +for such is the foolish consideration given by brave men to liquor. A +drunkard may do much with impunity, for the argument states he is not +responsible, forgetting that in the beginning he was responsible enough +to have left liquor alone, and that injury, whether unintentional or +not, is still injury. + +"There is no seem about it!" he retorted. "I _am_ his best friend, and +he needs friends bad enough, God knows. But speaking of murder, those +four good cow-punchers that stopped me in the defile tried hard enough to +qualify at it, and The Orphan not only saved me, but also some of them, +for I'd a gotten some of them before I cashed. You're a h--l of a fine +cub to talk about murders, you are!" + +"That's all right," retorted Bucknell, "he's just what I said he was. And +a side pardner of our brave sheriff, too!" + +"D----n you!" shouted Shields, his face dark with passion. "You have +said enough, any more from you and I'll break your dirty neck! Just +because I felt sorry for you when you got half killed in the saloon +and let you stay in the country don't think you are the boss of this +section. When I saw what a pitiful, drunken wreck you were, I felt sorry +for you, but not any more. You don't want decent treatment, you want +to get clubbed, and you're right in line to get just what you need, too! +Now, I'm not going to stand any more of your d----d foolishness--my +patience is played out. And if you were half a man you wouldn't sit there +like a bump on a log and swallow what I'm saying--you'd put up a fight +if you died for it. You are no good, just a drunken, lawless fool of a +puncher; just a bag of wind, and it's up to you to walk a chalk line or +I'll give you a taste of what I carry around with me for bums of your +kind. What in h--l do you think I am? No, you don't, you stay right +where you are 'til I get good and ready to have you go! You've come +d----d near the end of your rope and there is just one thing for you +to do, and that is, get out of this country and do it quick! You stay on +your own side of the Limping Water, for if I catch you riding off any +nervousness off of Cross Bar-8 ground without word from your foreman, +I'll shoot you down like I'd shoot a coyote! And for a dollar I'd wipe up +the earth with you right now! You d----d, sneaking, cowardly cur, you +tin-horn bully! Pull your stakes and get scarce and don't you open your +mouth to me--come on, lively! Pull your freight!" + +Bucknell slowly rode away, his eyes to the ground and not daring to say +what seethed in his heart. He swore to himself that he would get square +some day on both, not realizing in his anger that when sober he feared +them both. + +The sheriff stared after him and then returned to the point where he +had left his horse. As he mounted he shook his head savagely and swore. +Glancing again after the puncher he struck into a canter and rode toward +the ranch. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +BILL ATTENDS THE PICNIC + + +The picnic aroused quite a stir for so frivolous a thing. When Blake +read Mrs. Shields' invitation to the outfit they acted like schoolboys +dismissed for a vacation. Grins of delight were the style on the Star +C, and the overflow of bubbling happiness took the form of practical +joking against Humble, whose life suddenly held much anxiety. In Ford's +Station there was an air of expectancy, and Bill spent all of Saturday +morning from daylight until time to start in cleaning his stage and +grooming the horses, whose astonishment quickly passed into prohibitive +indignation. After narrowly escaping broken bones and chewed arms Bill +decided that the sextet could go as it was. + +"Serves 'em right!" he yelled to his friendly enemy, the clerk, after he +had barely dodged a vicious kick, wildly waving a curry comb. "Let the +ignoramuses go like they are! Let 'em show how cheap and common they are! +They never was any good for anything, anyhow, eating their heads off and +kicking their best friend!" + +"How about the time they beat out them Apaches?" asked the clerk, settling +back comfortably against the coach. + +"You get out!" yelled Bill pugnaciously. "Who asked you for talk, hey? And +get away from that coach, you idiot, you'll dirty it all up!" + +"Sic 'em, Tige!" jeered the clerk pleasantly. "Chew 'em up!" + +"What!" yelled Bill, swiftly grabbing up the pail of water which stood +near him. "Sic 'em, is it!" he cried, running forward. "Chew 'em up, +hey!" he continued, heaving the contents of the pail at the clerk, who +nimbly sprang inside the vehicle and slammed the door shut behind him as +the water struck it. He leaped out of the other door and was safely away +before Bill realized what had happened. Then the driver said things when +he saw the mess he had made of the coach, upon which he had spent two +hard hours in polishing. + +"Suffering dogs!" he shouted, dancing first on one foot and then on the +other. "Now look what you've done! You're a h--l of a feller, you are! +After me rubbing the skin off'n my hands and breaking my arms a-polishing +it up! You good for nothing, mangy half-breed! Wait till I get a hold of +you, you long pair of legs, you! Just wait! I'll show you, all right!" + +The clerk twiddled his fingers from afar and jeered in his laughter: +"Serves you right! Sic 'em, Towser! Eat 'em up, Fido! Sic 'em, sic 'em!" +he shouted joyously, and forthwith ran for his life. + +Bill returned to the coach and worked like mad to undo the evil effects +he had wrought and finally succeeded in bringing a phantom glow to the +time-battered wood. Then he hitched up and drove to the sheriff's house, +where he saw huge baskets on the porch. + +"Good morning, Mrs. Shields," he said as he stamped to the door. "Good +morning, ladies." + +"Good morning William," replied the sheriff's wife as she hurried to +collect shawls and blankets. "Will you mind putting those baskets on +the coach, William? We will soon be ready." + +"Why, certainly not, ma'am," he answered, recklessly grabbing up the two +largest. "Jimminee!" he exulted. "These are shore heavy, all right, all +right! Must be plumb full of good things! To-day is where your Uncle +Bill Halloway gets square for the dinner the company froze him out of. +Wonder if there's apricot pie in this one?" he mused curiously. He +gingerly raised the cover and a grin distorted his face. "Must be six, +yes, eight--mebby ten!" he soliloquized as he placed it on the stage. +"Hullo, bottles of some kind," he whispered as he picked up another +basket. "Hear the little devils clink, eh? Must be coffee and tea, hey? +Yes, shore enough it is. Good Lord, how hungry I am--wish I had eaten that +breakfast this morning--how in thunder did I know we was going to be so +late? I'll be the strong man at this picnic, all right!" + +"Here are some blankets, William," called Mrs. Shields. "Helen, would you +mind showing him how to carry that box?--he's sure to turn it upside down +if you don't." + +"Next!" he cried, returning from the trip with the blankets. "I put them +blankets up on top, Mrs. Shields, is it all right? How do you do, Miss +Helen, any more freight?" + +"How do you do," she replied. "This box is to go, please. Now, do be very +careful not to turn it up, or jar it!" she warned. "And put it on the seat +inside the coach where we can steady it." + +"Gee, what's in it?" asked Bill, nearly dying from his curiosity. "Must +be the joker of the feast, eh?" + +"Three layer cakes," she laughingly replied. "Chocolate, cocoanut and +lemon." + +"Um!" he said. "I'll carry this one high up, it deserves it." + +"Oh, do be careful!" she cried as he swooped it up to his shoulder. "Oh!" +she screamed as it thumped against the top of the door frame. + +"Whoa! Back up!" cried Bill, executing the order. "Easy, boy--all right, +off we go!" + +"Grace, Mary," cried Helen, "we are all ready to go!" + +"Ain't there any more boxes?" asked Bill from the coach. + +"Come, girls," cried Mrs. Shields as she stepped into the coach. "Close +the door after you, and lock it, dear." + +Bill gallantly helped the ladies into the coach, grinned at the cake box +and started toward the front wheel when he was called back. + +"Now, William," cautioned Mrs. Shields, laughing. "We will not be pursued +by Apaches to-day, and this cake must not be shaken!" + +"You won't know you're riding, ma'am, you shore won't," he assured her as +he danced toward the front wheel again. + +"Wake up there, you!" he yelled from the box. "Come on, Jerry, think +you're glued to the earth? Come on, Tom! Easy there, you fool jackrabbit! +--haven't you learned that you can't reach this high!" + +When they had arrived at the A-Y the baskets were carried into the +ranch-house and the women became very busy getting things ready for the +feast. Bill took care of his team and then carried the blankets to the +grove. + +While the picnic was being prepared there arose a series of blood-curdling +whoops off to the south where the outfit of the Star C made the air +blue with powder smoke. As they came nearer something peculiar was +noticed by Helen. It appeared to be a sort of drag drawn by a horse and +supported by two long, springy poles, one end of which rested on the +ground, and the other fastened to the saddle. While she wondered Bill +came up and she turned to him for light. + +"What have they got fastened to that horse?" she asked him. + +He looked and then smiled: "Why, it is a travois," he said. "But what +under the sun have they got on it? They must be bringing their own grub!" + +The travois dragged and bumped over the uneven plain and soon came near +enough for its burden to be made out. A man and a dog were strapped to it. + +At this point Blake joined Helen and Bill, and as he did so he espied the +travois. + +"Thunder!" he cried, running forward. "Somebody is hurt! What's the +matter, Silent?" he shouted. + +"Matter?" asked Silent, in surprise as the outfit drew near. "There ain't +nothing the matter. Why?" + +"What's that travois doing with you, then?" Blake demanded. + +Silent's face was as grave as that of an owl. "Travois?" he asked. +Then his face cleared: "Oh, yes--I near forgot about it," he added, +apologetically. "You see, Humble he shore wanted his dog to come to the +picnic, so we reckoned we'd let it come along. Bud and Jim was for +slinging it at the end of a rope and dragging it over, but I said no. +We ain't got any ropes to have all frayed out and cut a-dragging dogs +to picnics, and I said so, too. So we built the travois and strapped +Lightning to it. When Humble saw what we had done he acted real unpolite. +He said as how he wasn't going to have no dog of his'n toted twenty +miles in a fool travois. Said that he'd make it stay home first, which +was some mean after inviting the dog to come along. He said that he'd +go in a travois himself first before he'd let the setter be made a fool +of. Well, we simply had to subdue him, and he got so unreasonable that we +just had to tie him with his dog. He shore does get awful pig-headed at +times." + +"Take off the gag, Jim," requested Silent, turning to the grinning +cow-puncher. "Let him loose now, we've arrived." + +Jim leaned over and whispered in Humble's ear, the information being that +there were ladies about, and that all swearing must be thought and not +yelled. Then he slipped the gag, and untied the ropes. Gales of laughter +met the angry and indignant puncher when he had leaped to his feet, and +he flashed one quick glance at the women and then, boiling with wrath +and suppressed profanity, fled toward the corrals as swiftly as cramped +muscles would allow. The dog snarled at its tormentors and then set +off in hot pursuit of its discomfited master, whose waving arms kept +time with his speeding legs. + +"That's all the thanks we get," grumbled Bud, "but then, he don't know +any better anyhow." + +Blake laughed and regarded his grinning and expectant outfit, and the +longer he looked at them the more he laughed. They had paid their respects +to the women while Silent explained about the travois and now they cast +many longing glances at the blankets and cloths spread out on the grass +and at the baskets which Bill was busy over. They had tried to coax the +driver to them to give information as to what they might expect in the +way of edibles, but he had haughtily and disdainfully refused to enlighten +them, taking care, however, to arouse their curiosity by looking fondly +at the box and the baskets and even showed his elation by taking several +fancy steps for their benefit. + +"Well, get rid of the cayuses," said Blake, "and square things with +Humble. Bring him back with you or you don't get any pie. You're such a +darn fool crowd that I can't get mad this time, but don't ever drag a +man in a travois again." + +"Did he come, or was he kidnapped?" murmured Bud. "What we did once we can +do again, and Humble will be on hand when the feast begins." + +Jim had been scowling at Bill, whose manners were most aggravating. "You +just wait, you heathen," threatened Jim. "You're ace high with the grub, +all right, but just you wait 'til we get you alone!" + +"Yah!" laughed the driver. "I shore can handle the best cow-wrastler that +ever lived." + +"Bill seems to be running this here festival," Bud complained to Helen. + +"Oh, he is our right-hand man," she replied with enthusiasm. "We couldn't +possibly get along without him, now. He has charge of the pie and cake." + +Bill's chest expanded: "I'm foreman of the pie and cake herd," he +exclaimed proudly. "You can't get ahead of me." + +Bud looked at the driver and then significantly waved his hand at the +travois: "And you'll shore travel in style, just like a real pie foreman, +too, when we gets a chance to honor you like we wants to." + +"You'll get no pie if you acts smart, little boy," retorted the driver. +"Run along and play till lunch is ready, and don't dirty your hands and +face." + +"Well, we've got fine memories," Bud suggested as he led the way to the +corrals, where he found The Orphan. + +"Hullo, Orphan!" he cried enthusiastically as he gripped the outstretched +hand. "Plumb glad to see you. How's things?" + +"Glad to see you, boys," cried the temporary foreman, who was all smiles. +"One at a time!" he laughed as they crowded about him. "Make yourselves +right at home--that smallest corral is for your cayuses. And you'll find +plenty of soap and water and towels by the bunk-house, and there's a box +of good cigars, a tin of tobacco, and a jug on the table inside. Help +yourself to anything you want, the place is all yours." + +"Gee, this is a good game, all right," Bud laughed as he turned to put +his horse in the corral. "The sheriff shore knows how to deal." + +"Leave a cigar for me, Silent," jokingly warned Jim as his friend turned +toward the bunk-house. "Too many smokes will make you sick." + +"Well, you've got a gall, all right!" retorted Silent. "You better let me +bring yours out to you and keep away from the box, for I'm always plumb +suspicious of these goody-goody, it's-for-your-own-good people." + +A crafty look came to Jack Lawson's face and he turned to The Orphan: "Has +Bill Howland got his cigars yet?" he asked, winking at his friends. + +"Why, I don't know whether he has or not," replied The Orphan. "But I +don't believe that he has been out of sight of the pies since he came. +They've got him in a trance." + +"Guess I'll take him one," continued Jack, grinning broadly. "He likes to +smoke." + +"Shore enough, go ahead," endorsed the foreman of the A-Y as he turned +toward the grove. Then he stopped, and with a knowing look added: "If you +want to see Humble, he just went in the bunk-house." + +A yell of dismay arose as the outfit started pell-mell for the house. +Silent entered it first and his profanity informed his companions that +their fears were well grounded. Neither Humble, cigars, tobacco nor jug +were to be seen, and a search was forthwith instituted. Jack looked at +a distant corral and saw Lightning as the dog disappeared from sight into +it. + +"Hey!" he cried. "He's in the big corral--I just saw his dog go in, and +it was wagging its tail a whole lot. Come on, we'll surround it and show +that frisky gent a thing or two!" + +No more words were wasted, and in a very short time figures were creeping +around the corral. Then there was a scramble as most of the searchers +scaled the wall at different points while two of them ran in through +the gate. The first thing they saw was the dog, and his tail was still +wagging as he curiously followed, nose to the ground, a huge horned toad. +He looked up at the sudden disturbance and backed off suspiciously, +looking for a way to escape. + +"---- ----!" chorused the fooled punchers, who discovered that deductions +don't always deduct, and then they returned to the bunk-house to "slick +up." When finally satisfied about their appearance they made their way +to the grove and the sight which greeted their eyes as they entered it +almost made them drop in their tracks. + +Humble and Bill sat cross-legged on a blanket, which was surrounded with +guns. The jug, tobacco and cigars were flanked by pies and a cake, while +each of the conspirators held a lighted cigar in one hand while they took +turns at the jug. A huge piece of pie rested in a plate at Humble's side, +while Bill's knee held a piece of cake. + +"Hands up!" shouted Humble, grabbing a gun. "Don't you dare to raid the +gallery! You stay right where you are!" + +Bill's blacksnake whip leaped from point to point experimentally, picking +up twigs and leaves with disturbing accuracy. + +The invaders halted just beyond the range of the whip and consulted +uneasily, not noticing that the driver had shortened his weapon by twice +the length of its handle. Finally Jim and Docile ran back toward the +corral while their friends waited impatiently for their return, grinning +at the enemy with an I-told-you-so air. + +Bill suddenly leaned forward, the whip slid down into his hand to the end +of the handle and cracked viciously. Joe Haines, who had grown a little +careless, leaped into the air and yelled, grabbing at his leg. + +"Keep your distance, you!" warned the driver, trying to look ferocious. +"Twenty feet is the dead-line, children." + +Jim and Docile returned apace and brought with them half a dozen lariats, +which ranged in length from thirty to forty feet. + +"Hey, you!" cried Humble in alarm. "That ain't fair!" + +Grim silence was the only reply as the invaders each took his rope and +surrounded the two. Then, suddenly, the air was full of darting ropes +and in less time than it takes to tell of it the pair were hopelessly +and helplessly trussed. Silent ran in and hurled the whip away and then +squatted before the prisoners, throwing their cigars after the whip as +he took up the pie and cake, which he tantalizingly munched before their +eyes. + +"I like a hog, all right, but you suit me too blamed well!" asserted Bud, +grabbing at Silent's pie. + +"Gimme some of that," demanded Jim, trying for the cake. And when the +disturbance had ceased there were no signs of either pie or cake. + +"It's the travois for you, Humble dear!" softly hummed Charley Bailey. +"And to the ranch, by the way of town!" + +"And Bill will be pleased to explore the Limping Water on the bottom," +amended Jim. "One of us can drive the women home!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE ANNOUNCEMENT + + +About thirty people sat in a circle on the grass in the grove on the A-Y, +engaged in taking viands from the well-filled plates which made the +rounds. Keen humor from all sides kept them in roars of laughter, Humble +and Bill provoking the greater part of it. Humble sat next to Miss +Ritchie, while The Orphan and Bill flanked Helen, the sheriff next to his +new foreman. Humble's face had a look of benign condescension when he +allowed himself to bestow perfunctory attentions on the members of +his outfit, whom he graciously called "purty fair punchers in a way." + +Crawford, the former owner of the A-Y, sat next to Shields, and when the +lunch had reached the cigar stage he arose and cleared his throat. + +"Ladies and Gentlemen, Bill and Humble," he began amid laughter. "I +have been regarded as the host of this picnic, and the false position +embarrasses me. But any such momentary feeling is compensated by the +importance of what I have to tell you. + +"When I took up the A-Y it was with a determination to keep it and to +spend the rest of my days on it in peace. This I have found to be +impossible, and in consequence I have turned it over to a better man. The +energy which I have seen applied in the right way for the last few weeks +has assured me that the A-Y will soon be second in importance and +wealth to no ranch in this country. I have seen order, system, emerge +from chaos; I have seen five thousand cattle re-branded and taken care +of in such dispatch as to astonish me and be almost beyond my belief. +The sheriff has been as economical in the use of his energy as he can +be in the use of his words. By that I don't mean in the way that is +causing you to smile, but simply that he knows how to accomplish the +most work with the least possible expenditure of effort and time, as +witnessed by the condition of this ranch to-day. But while he has been +the guiding spirit in the work of putting the ranch on its proper +footing, he has had as good assistants as it is possible to find. + +"I don't wish to tire you with any long speech, for brevity is the soul +of more than wit, so I will close by telling you that the A-Y is in new +and better hands--our sheriff is now its owner, and I extend to him my +heartiest wishes for his success in his new venture. I must thank him and +all of you for a very pleasant day and a memory to take East with me." + +For an instant there was intense silence, and then a small battle seemed +to be taking place. The noise of the shooting and cheering was deafening +and smoke rolled down like a heavy fog. The sheriff met the rush toward +him and put in a very busy few minutes in shaking hands and replying +to the hearty congratulations which poured in upon him from all sides. +Everybody was happy and all were talking at once, and Bill could be heard +reeling off an unbroken string of words at high speed. + +The Orphan fought his way to his best friend and gripped both hands in his +own. + +"By God, Sheriff!" he cried. "This is great news, and I'm plumb glad to +hear it! I hope you have the very best of luck and that your returns, both +in pleasure and money, far exceed your fondest expectations. Anything I +can do is yours for the asking." + +"Thank you, son," replied the sheriff, looking fondly into his friend's +eyes. "I'm going to call on you just as soon as I can make myself heard +in all this hellabaloo. Just listen to that!" he exclaimed as Silent let +loose again. + +"Glory be!" yelled he of the misleading name, slapping Humble across the +back. "For this you ride home like a white man, Humble--all your sins are +forgiven! Hurrah for the sheriff, his family and the A-Y!" he shouted at +the top of his lungs, and his cheer was supported unanimously with true +cowboy enthusiasm and vim. + +"Hurray for me, too!" shouted Bill in laughter. Then he fled, with Silent +in hot pursuit. + +The sheriff tried to speak, and after several attempts was finally given +silence. + +"Thank you, everybody!" he cried, his face beaming. "I am happy for many +reasons to-day, but foremost among them is the fact that I have so many +warm and loyal friends. The A-Y is always open to all of you, and I'll be +some disappointed if you don't put in a lot of your spare time over here." + +He paused for a few seconds and then looked at The Orphan, who stood at +Helen's side. + +"Mr. Crawford did his part a whole lot better than I can do mine, I'm +afraid, but I'm going to do my best, anyhow. The news has only been half +told--the name of the new foreman of the A-Y henceforth will be The +Orphan! Whoop her up, boys!" he shouted, leading a cheer which was not +one whit less a cheer than those which had gone before. + +The Orphan stared in astonishment, for once in his life he had been +surprised. The sheriff at last had the drop on him. He looked from one to +another, started to step forward and then changed his mind and looked +appealingly at Helen, who smiled in a way to double the speed of his +heart-beats. + +Her eyes were moist, and the sudden consciousness that she formed half +of the objective of all eyes caused her cheeks to go crimson. Her hand +impulsively went to his shoulder and without thought on her part, and his +incredulous questioning was answered by her. + +"It's all true," she said earnestly. "I've known of it for a whole week +now. You are the real foreman of the A-Y, and I most earnestly hope for +your success." + +He suddenly seemed to be above the earth and his voice broke in his +stammered reply. For a fraction of a second her eyes had told him what +he had dreamed of, what he had hoped for above all things, and he grasped +her hand for a second as he stepped forward toward his new employer, +whose hand met his with a man's grasp. + +"Thank you, Sheriff," he said, his head whirling from the surprises of a +minute. "You've been squarer and fairer with me than any man I've ever +known, and hell will look nice to me if I don't make good with you. + +"Thank you, boys; thank you, Bill: you're all right, every one of you!" +he cried as his friends crowded about him. "What the sheriff said +about warm friends was the truth--thank you, Bud and Jim! Thank you, +Blake--you're another brick! Good God, what I have gained in two months! +I can scarcely believe it, it seems so like a dream. That's a real +warm grip, all right, though," he exclaimed as he shook hands with Humble, +"so I reckon it's all true. Two months!" he marveled. "Two glorious, +glorious months! A new start in life, a loyal crowd of friends, a--and +all in two months! And there is the man I owe it all to," he suddenly +cried, pointing to the sheriff. "There's the whitest man God ever made, +and I'll kill the man who says I lie!" + +"Good boy!" shouted Bill in enthusiastic endorsement. "You two make a pair +of aces what can beat any full-house ever got together, and _I_'ll lick +the man who says _I_ lie!" he yelled pugnaciously. "The Orphant may be +an orphant, all right, but he's got a whole lot of brothers." + +Mrs. Shields walked over to The Orphan and placed a motherly hand on his +shoulder as he recovered. + +"You won't be an orphan any longer, my boy," she said, smiling up at him. +"You're one of us now--I always wanted a son, and God has given me one +in you." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +TEX WILLIARD'S MISTAKE + + +During the month which followed the picnic things ran smoothly on the +A-Y, and the rejuvenated ranch was the pride of the whole contingent, +from the sheriff down to the cook. The Orphan had taken charge with a +determination which grew firmer with each passing day and the new +owner was delighted at the outcome of his plans. The foreman, elated +and happy at his sudden shift in fortune, radiated cheerfulness and +consideration. His men knew that he would not ask them to do anything +which he himself feared to do, which would not have been much consolation +to a timid man, since he feared nothing; but to them it meant that +they had a foreman who would stick by them through fire and water, +and a foreman who commands respect from his outfit is a man whose life +is made easy for him. He had known too much of unkindness, harshness, +to become angry at mistakes; instead, he set diligently at work to undo +them, and mistakes were rare. The very men who had once wished for his +life would now fight instantly to save it. They were proud of him, of +the owner, the ranch and themeselves; and proudest of all was Bill, once +driver of the stage, but now a cowboy working hard and loyally under the +man who had once held him up for a smoke. + +Visitors were numerous, and every man who called became enthusiastic +about the ranch, and after he had departed marveled at the complete +change in the man who was its foreman, and felt confidence in the good +judgment of the sheriff. Ford's Station was openly jubilant, for the town +exulted in the discomfiture of the Cross Bar-8 and in the proof that +their sheriff was right. And Ford's Station chuckled at the news it +heard, for the foreman of the Cross Bar-8 had called twice at the A-Y and +was fast losing his prejudice against The Orphan. Sneed had found a +quiet, optimistic foreman in the place of his former enemy, and the +laughter which lurked in The Orphan's eyes closed the breach. He had +seen the man in a new light, and when he had said his farewell at the +close of his second visit the grip of his hand was strong. As for the +Star C, a trail had been worn between the two ranches and hardly a day +passed but one or more of its punchers dropped in to say a few words to +their former bunkmate, and to stir up Bill. The Star C, no less than his +own men, swore by The Orphan. + +One bright morning the sheriff left for a trip to Chicago and other +packing cities to arrange for future cattle shipments, and announced +that he would be away for a week or two. On the night following his +departure trouble began. The ranch and bunk houses of the Cross Bar-8 +were fired into, and when Sneed and his men had returned after a fruitless +search in the dark the foreman stared at the wall and swore. Was it The +Orphan again? In the absence of the sheriff had he renewed the war? +First thought cried that he had, but gradually the idea became untenable. +Why should The Orphan risk his splendid berth on the A-Y, his prospects +now rich in promise, to work off any lingering hatred? When Sneed had +shaken hands with him he found apparent sincerity in the warm clasp. He +would ride over at daylight and have the matter settled once and for +all. And if satisfied that The Orphan was guiltless of the outrage he +would turn his whole attention to the imitator of the former outlaw. + +The Orphan was mending his saddle girth when he saw Sneed cantering past +the farthest corral. The latter's horse bore all the signs of hard riding +and he looked up inquiringly at the visitor. + +"Good morning, Sneed," he said pleasantly, arising and laying aside the +saddle. "What's up, anything?" + +"Yes, and I came over to find out about it," Sneed answered. "I hardly +know how to begin--but here, I'll tell it from the beginning," and he +related what had occurred, much to the wonder of The Orphan. + +"Now," finished the visitor, "I want to ask you a question, although I +may be a d----n fool for doing it. But I want to get this thing thrashed +out. Do you know who did it?" + +The foreman of the A-Y straightened up, his eyes flashing, and then he +realized that Sneed had some right to question him after what had occurred +in the past. + +"No, Sneed, I do not," he answered, "but in two guesses I can name the +man!" + +"Good!" cried Sneed. "Go ahead!" + +"Bucknell?" + +"No, he was with me in the bunk-house," replied the foreman of the Cross +Bar-8. "It wasn't him--go on." + +"Tex Williard," said The Orphan with decision. + +"Tex?" cried Sneed. "Why?" + +"It's plain as day, Sneed," The Orphan answered. "He's sore at me, but +lacks nerve." + +"But, thunderation, how would he hurt you by shooting at us?" Sneed +demanded, impatiently. + +"Oh, he would scare up a war during the sheriff's absence by throwing your +suspicions on me. He reckoned you would think that I did it, get good +and mad, fly off the handle and raise h--l generally. He figured that +I, according to the past, would meet you half way and that you or some +of your men might kill me. If you didn't, he reckoned that the sheriff +would kick me out of this berth, and that one or both of us might get +killed in the argument. He could sit back and laugh to himself at how easy +it was to square up old scores from a distance. It's Tex as sure as I am +here, and unless Tex changes his plans and gets out of this country d----n +soon he won't be long in getting what he seems to ache for." + +Sneed pushed back his sombrero and smiled grimly: "I reckon that you're +right," he replied. "But you ain't sore at the way I asked, are you? I +had to begin somewhere, you know." + +"Sore?" rejoined his companion, angrily. "Sore? I'm so sore that I'm going +out after Tex right now. And I'll get him or know the reason why, too. +You go back and post your men about this--and tell them on no account +to ride over my range for a few days, for they might get hurt before they +are known. Put a couple of them to bed as soon as you get back--you need +them to keep watch nights." + +He turned toward the corral and called to a man who was busy near it: +"Charley, you take anybody that you want and get in a good sleep before +nightfall. I will want both of you to work to-night." + +"All right, after dinner will be time enough," Charley replied. "I'll take +Lefty Lukins." + +The Orphan went into the ranch house and returned at once with his rifle, +a canteen of water and a package of food. As he threw a saddle on his +horse Bill galloped up, waving his arms and very much excited. + +"Hey, Orphant!" he shouted. "Somebody's shore enough plugged some of our +cows near the creek! I lost his trail at the Cottonwoods!" + +"All right, Bill," replied the foreman, "I'll go out and look them over. +You take another horse and ride to the Star C. Tell Blake to keep watch +for Tex Williard, and tell him to hold Tex for me if he sees him. Lively, +Bill!" + +Bill stared, leaped from his horse, took the saddle from its back and was +soon lost to sight in the corral. In a few minutes he galloped past his +foreman and Sneed swearing heartily. His quirt arose and fell and soon +he was lost to sight over a rise near the ranch-house. + +The foreman of the A-Y rode over to Charley: "Charley, in case I don't get +back to-night, you and Lefty keep guard somewhere out here, and shoot +any man who don't halt at your hail. If I return in the dark I'll whistle +Dixie as soon as I see the lights in the bunk house, and I'll keep it +up so you won't mistake me. So long." + +Sneed and he cantered away together and soon they parted, the former to +ride toward his ranch, the latter toward the Cottonwoods near the Limping +Water and along the trail left by Bill. + +When near the grove The Orphan saw five dead cows and he quickly +dismounted to examine them. + +"Not dead for long," he muttered as he examined the blood on them. He +leaped into his saddle and galloped through the grove. "Now, by God, +somebody pays for them!" he muttered. + +Here was a sudden change in things, positions had been reversed, and +now he could appreciate the feelings which he had, more than once, aroused +in the hearts of numerous foremen. He emerged from the grove and rode +rapidly along the trail left by the perpetrator, alert, grim and angry. +Soon the trail dipped beneath the waters of the creek and he stopped +and thought for a few seconds. If it was Tex, he would not have ridden +toward the Cross Bar-8 and the town, and neither would he have ridden +south toward the Star C, nor north in the direction of the A-Y. He would +seek cover for the day if he was still determined to carry on his game, +and would not emerge until night covered his movements. That left him +only the west along the creek, and more than that, the creek turned to the +south again about five miles farther on and flowed far too close to the +ranch-houses of the Star C for safety. He must have left the water at the +turn, and toward the turn rode The Orphan, watching intently for the trail +to emerge on either bank. His deductions were sound, for when he had +rounded the bend of the stream he picked up the trail where it left +the water and followed it westward. + +The country around the bend was very wild and rough, for ravines between +the hills cut seams and gashes in the plain. The underbrush was shoulder +high, and he did not know how soon he might become a target. The trail +was very fresh in the soft loam of the ravines and the broken branches +and trampled leaves were still wet with sap. Soon he hobbled his horse +and proceeded on foot, but to one side of and parallel with the trail. +He had spent an hour in his advance and had begun to regret having left +his horse so early, when he heard the report of a gun near at hand and +a bullet hissed viciously over his head as he stooped to go under a low +branch. + +He threw up his arms, the rifle falling from his hands, pitched forward +and rolled down the side of the hill and behind a fallen tree trunk +which lay against a thicket. As soon as he had gained this position he +glanced in the direction from whence the shot had come and, finding +himself screened from sight on that side, quickly jerked off his boots and +planted them among the bushes, where they looked as if he had crawled in +almost out of sight. That done, he crawled along the ground under the +protection of the tree trunk and then squirmed under it, when he pushed +himself, feet first, deep into a tangled thicket and waited, Colt in +hand, for a sign of his enemy's approach. + +A quarter of an hour had passed in silence when a shot, followed by +another, sounded from the hillside. After the lapse of a like interval +another shot was fired, this time from the opposite direction. He saw a +twig fall by the boots and heard the spat! of the bullet as it hit a +stone. Two more shots sounded in rapid succession, and then another long +interval of silence. Half an hour passed, but he was not impatient. He +most firmly believed that his man would, sooner or later, come out to +examine the boots, and time was of no consequence: he wanted the man. + +Whoever he was, he was certainly cautious, he did not believe in taking +any chances. It was almost certain that he would not leave until he had +been assured that he had accomplished his purpose, for it would be most +disconcerting at some future time to unexpectedly meet the man he thought +he had murdered. Another shot whizzed into the place where the body +should have been, according to the silent testimony of the boots. It +sounded much closer to the thicket, but in the same direction of the +last few shots. Then, after ten minutes of silence, a twig snapped, +and directly behind the thicket in which The Orphan was hidden! The +foreman's nerves were tense now, his every sense was alert, for his +was a most dangerous position. He quickly glanced over his shoulder into +the thicket and found that he could not penetrate the mass of leaves and +branches, which reassured him. He was very glad that he had forced himself +well into the cover, for soon the leaves rustled and a pebble rolled not +more than four feet off, and in front of him, slightly at his right. +More rustling and then a head and shoulder slowly pushed past him into +view. The man moved very slowly and cautiously and was crouched, his +head far in advance of his waist. The Orphan could see only one side +of the face, the angle of the man's jaw and an ear, but that was enough, +for he knew the owner. Slowly and without a sound the foreman's right +hand turned at the wrist until the Colt gleamed on a line with the +other's heart. The searcher leaned forward and to one side, that he +might better see the boots, when a sound met his ears. + +"Don't move," whispered the foreman. + +The prowler stiffened in his tracks, frozen to rigidity by the command. +Then he slowly turned his head and looked squarely into the gun of the +man he thought he had killed. + +"Christ!" he cried hoarsely, starting back. + +"I don't reckon you'll ever know Him," said The Orphan, his voice very +low and monotonous. "Stand just as you are--don't move--I want to talk +with you." + +Tex simply stared at him in pitiful helplessness and could not speak, +beads of perspiration standing out on his face, testifying to the agony +of fear he was in. + +"You're on the wrong side of the game again, Tex," The Orphan said slowly, +watching the puncher narrowly, his gun steady as a rock. "You still +want to kill me, it seems. I've given you your life twice, once to your +knowledge, and I told you with the sheriff that I would shoot you if you +ever returned; and still you have come back to have me do it. You were +not satisfied to let things rest as they were." + +Tex did not reply, and The Orphan continued, a flicker of contempt about +his lips. + +"You were never cast for an outlaw, Tex. If I do say it myself, it +takes a clever man to live at that game, and I know, for I've been all +through it. As you see, Sneed and I didn't shoot each other, for the +play was too plain, too transparent. You should have ambushed one of +his men, burned his corrals and slaughtered his cattle, for then he +might have shot and talked later. And he might have gotten me, too, +for I was unsuspecting. I don't say that I would kill an innocent man to +arouse his anger if I had been in your place, I'm only showing you +where you made the mistake, where you blundered. Had you killed one of +his men it is very probable that his rage would have known no bounds, +but as it was the provocation was not great enough." + +Tex remained silent and unconsciously toyed at his ear. The Orphan looked +keenly at the movement and wondered where he had seen it before, for it +was familiar. His face darkened as memory urged something forward to +him out of the dark catacombs of the past, and he stilled his breathing +to catch a clue to it. He saw the little ranch his father had worked so +hard over to improve, and had fought hard to save, and then the picture of +his dying mother came vividly before him; but still something avoided +his searching thoughts, something barely eluded him, trembling on the +edge of the Then and Now. He saw his father's body slowly swinging and +turning in the light breeze of a perfect day, and he quivered at the +nearness of what he was seeking, its proximity was tantalizing. The +rope!--the rope about his father's neck had been of manila fiber; he +could never forget the soiled, bleached-yellow streak which had led +upward to Eternity. And manila ropes were, at that time, a rarity in +that part of the country, for rawhide and braided-hair lariats had been +the rule. And on the day when he had given Tex his life in the defile he +had noticed the faded yellow rope which had swung at the puncher's saddle +horn. As he strained with renewed hope to catch the elusive impression +another scene came before him. It was of three men bent over a cow, +engaged in blotting out his father's brand, and instantly the face of +one of them sprang into sharp definition on his mental canvas. + +"D----n you!" he cried, his finger tightening on the trigger of the +Colt which for so many years had been his best friend. "I know you now, +changed as you are! Now I know why you have been so determined for my +death. On the day that I cut my father down I swore that I would kill +the man who had lynched him if kind fate let me find him, and I have +found him. You have just five minutes to live, so make the most of it, you +cowardly murderer!" + +Tex's face went suddenly white again and his nerve deserted him. His Colt +was in his hand, but oh, so useless! Should he fight to the end? A shudder +ran through him at the thought, for life was so good, so precious; far +too precious to waste a minute of it by dying before his time was up. +Perhaps the foreman would relent, perhaps he would become so wrapped +up in the memories of the years gone by as to forget, just for half a +second, where he was. The watch in The Orphan's hand gave him hope, +for he would wait until the other glanced at it--that would be his only +hope of life. + +The foreman's watch ticked loudly in the palm of his left hand and the +Colt in his right never quivered. The first minute passed in terrifying +silence, then the second, then the third, but all the time The Orphan's +eyes stared steadily at the man before him, gray, cruel, unblinking. + +"They told me to do it! They told me to do it!" shrieked the pitiful, +unnerved wreck of a man as he convulsively opened and shut his hand. +"I didn't want to do it! I swear I didn't want to do it! As God is above, +I didn't want to! They made me, they made me!" he cried, his words swiftly +becoming an unintelligible jumble of meaningless sounds. He stared at the +black muzzle of the Colt, frozen by terror, fascinated by horror and +deadened by despair. The watch ticked on in maddening noise, for his every +sense was now most acute, beating in upon his brain like the strokes of a +hammer. Then the foreman glanced quickly at it. The gun in Tex's hand +leaped up, but not quickly enough, and a spurt of smoke enveloped his face +as he fell. The Orphan stepped back, dropping the Colt into its holster. + +[Illustration: "The Orphan stepped back a pace and dropped the Colt into +its holster." (_See page_ 390.)] + +"The courage of despair!" he whispered. "But I'm glad he died game," he +slowly added. Then he suddenly buried his face in his hands: "Helen!" he +cried. "Helen--forgive me!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE GREAT HAPPINESS + + +The town was rapidly losing sharpness of detail, for the straggling +buildings were becoming more and more blurred and were growing into sharp +silhouettes in the increasing dusk, and the sickly yellow lights were +growing more numerous in the scattered windows. + +Helen moved about the dining-room engaged in setting the table and +she had just placed fresh flowers in the vase, when she suddenly stopped +and listened. Faintly to her ears came the pounding hoofbeats of a +galloping horse on the well-packed street, growing rapidly nearer with +portentous speed. It could not be Miss Ritchie, for there was a vast +difference between the comparatively lazy gallop of her horse and the +pulse-stirring tattoo which she now heard. The hoofbeats passed the +corner without slackening pace, and whirled up the street, stopping in +front of the house with a suddenness which she had long since learned +to attribute to cowboys. She stood still, afraid to go to the door, +numbed with a nameless fear--something terrible must have happened, +perhaps to The Orphan. The rider ran up the path, his spurs jingling +sharply, leaped to the porch, and the door was dashed open to show him +standing before her, sombrero in hand, his quirt dangling from his left +wrist. He was dusty and tired, but the expression on his face terrified +her, held her speechless. + +"Helen!" he cried hoarsely, driving her fear deeper into her heart by +his altered voice. "Helen!" She trembled, and he made a gesture of +hopelessness and involuntarily stepped toward her, letting the door swing +shut behind him. He stood just within the room, rigidly erect, his eyes +meeting hers in the silence of strong emotion. Breathlessly she retreated +as he advanced, as if instinct warned her of what he had to tell her, +until the table was between them; and a spasm of pain flickered across +his face as he noticed it, leaving him hard and stern again, but in +his eyes was a look of despair, a keen misery which softened her and +drew her toward him even while she feared him. + +The silence became unbearable and at last she could endure it no longer. +"What is it?" she breathed, tensely. "What have you to tell me?" + +His eyes never wavered from her face, fascinated in despair of what he +must read there, much as he dreaded it, and he answered her from between +set lips, much as a man would pronounce his own death sentence. "I have +broken my word," he said, harshly. + +"Broken your word--to me?" she asked. + +"Yes." + +Her face brightened and was softened by a child-like wonder, for she felt +relieved in a degree, and unconsciously she moved nearer to him. "What is +it--what have you done?" + +He regarded her without appraising the change in her expression and his +reply was as harsh and stern as his first statement, accompanied by no +excuses nor words of extenuation. "I have killed a man," he said. + +A shiver passed over her and her eyes went closed for a moment. The +great choice was at hand now, and in her heart a fierce, short battle +raged; on one side was arrayed her early training, all her teachings, all +regard for the ideas of law and order which she had absorbed in the East, +where human life was safeguarded as the first necessity; and on the +other was the Unwritten Law of the range as exemplified by The Orphan. +Blood, and human blood, was precious, and her early environment fought +bitterly against this regime of direct justice, so startlingly driven +into her mind by his bold, cold admission. And then, he had sinned in +this way again after he had promised her not to do so. The last thought +dominated her and she opened her eyes and looked at him hopefully. + +"Perhaps," she said, eagerly, "perhaps you could not avoid it--perhaps you +were forced to do it." + +"No." + +"Oh!" she cried. "You did not--you did not shoot him down without warning! +I _know_ you didn't!" + +"No, not that," he said slowly. "And, besides, this was his third offense. +Twice I have given him his life, and I would have done so again but for +what I discovered after I faced him." He paused for a moment and then +continued, with more feeling in his voice, a ring of victory and an +irrepressible elation. "I found that he was the man for whom I have +been looking for fifteen years, and whom I had sworn to kill. He killed +my father, killed him like a dog and without a chance for life, hung +him to a tree on his own land. And when I learned that, when he had +confessed to me, I forgot the new game, I forgot everything but the +watch in my hand slowly ticking away his life, the time I had given him +to make his peace with God--and I hated the slow seconds, I begrudged +him every movement of the hands. Then I shot him, and I was glad, so +glad--but oh, dear! If you--if you----" + +His voice wavered and broke and he dropped to his knees before her with +bowed head as she came slowly toward him and seized the hem of her gown +in both hands, kissing it passionately, burying his face in its folds like +a tired boy at his mother's knee. + +Her eyes were filled with tears and they rimmed her lashes as she looked +down on the man at her feet. Bending, she touched him and then placed her +hands on his head, tenderly kissing the tangled hair in loving forgiveness. + +"Dear, dear boy," she murmured softly. "Don't, dear heart. Don't, you +must not--oh, you must not! Please--come with me; get up, dear, and sit +with me over here in the corner; then you shall tell me all about it. I +am sure you have not done wrong--and if you have--don't you know I love +you, boy? Don't you know I love you?" + +He stirred slightly, as if awakening from a troubled sleep, and slowly +raised his head and looked at her with doubt in his eyes, for it was so +much like a dream--perhaps it was one. But he saw a light on her face, +a light which a man sees only on the face of one woman and which blinds +him against all other lights forever. Then it was true, all true--he had +heard aright! "Helen!" he cried, "Helen!" and the ring in his voice +brought new tears to her eyes. He sprang to his feet, tense, eager, all +his nerves tingling, and his quirt hissed through the air and snapped a +defiance, a warning to the world as he clasped her to him. "I _knew_, +I _knew!_" he cried passionately. "In my heart I _knew_ you were a +thoroughbred!" + +He tilted her head back, but she laughed low with delight and eluded him, +leading him to a chair, the chair he had occupied on the occasion of his +first visit, and then drew a low, rough footrest beside him and seated +herself at his feet, her elbows resting on his knees and her chin in her +hands. He looked down into the upturned face and then glanced swiftly +about the homelike room and back to her face again. She snuggled tightly +against his knees and waited patiently for his story. + +He sighed contentedly and touched her cheek reverently and then told her +all of the story of Tex Williard, from the very beginning to the very end, +from the time he had seen Tex bending over one of his father's cows to +the last scene in the thicket. When he had finished, Helen took his head +between her hands, pressing it warmly as she nodded wisely to show that +she understood. He looked deep into her eyes and then suddenly bent +his head until his lips touched her ear: "Helen, darling," he whispered, +"how long must I wait?" + +"Why, you scamp!" she exclaimed, teasingly, threatening to draw away from +him. "You haven't even told me that you love me!" + +He pressed her hands tightly and laughed aloud, joyously, filled with an +elated, effervescent gladness which surged over him in waves of delight: +"Haven't I? Oh, but you know better, dear. Many and many times I have +told you that, and in many ways, and you knew it and understood. You +never doubted it, and I hope," he added seriously, "that you never will." + +"I never will, dear." + +They did not hear Grace Ritchie in the kitchen, did not hear her quiet +step as it crossed the threshold and stopped, and then tiptoed to the +rear door and sped lightly around the house to the street, and down it +to where Mrs. Shields and Mary were walking toward the house. They did not +know that half an hour had passed since the coming of the quiet step and +the three women, and that the supper was hopelessly ruined. They knew +nothing--and Everything: they had learned the Great Happiness. + +THE END + + + + +Popular Copyright Books + +AT MODERATE PRICES + +Any of the following titles can be bought of your +bookseller at the price you paid for this volume + +Alternative, The. By George Barr McCutcheon. +Angel of Forgiveness, The. By Rosa N. Carey. +Angel of Pain, The. By E. F. Benson. +Annals of Ann, The. By Kate Trimble Sharber. +Battle Ground, The. By Ellen Glasgow. +Beau Brocade. By Baroness Orczy. +Beechy. By Bettina Von Hutten. +Bella Donna. By Robert Hichens. +Betrayal, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. +Bill Toppers, The. By Andre Castaigne. +Butterfly Man, The. By George Barr McCutcheon. +Cab No. 44. By R. F. Foster. +Calling of Dan Matthews, The. By Harold Bell Wright +Cape Cod Stories. By Joseph C. Lincoln. +Challoners, The. By E. F. Benson. +City of Six, The. By C. L. Canfield. +Conspirators, The, By Robert W. Chambers. +Dan Merrithew. By Lawrence Perry. +Day of the Dog, The. By George Barr McCutcheon. +Depot Master, The. By Joseph C. Lincoln. +Derelicts. By William J. Locke. +Diamonds Cut Paste. By Agnes & Egerton Castle. +Early Bird, The. By George Randolph Chester +Eleventh Hour, The. By David Potter. +Elizabeth in Rugen. By the author of Elizabeth and Her German Garden. +Flying Mercury, The. By Eleanor M. Ingram. +Gentleman, The. By Alfred Ollivant. +Girl Who Won, The. By Beth Ellis. +Going Some. By Rex Beach. +Hidden Water. By Dane Coolidge. +Honor of the Big Snows, The. By James Oliver Curwood. +Hopalong Cassidy. By Clarence E. Mulford. +House of the Whispering Pines, The. By Anna Katherine Green. +Imprudence of Prue, The. 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By Maria Thompson Davies. +Romance of a Plain Man, The. By Ellen Glasgow. +Running Fight, The. By Wm. Hamilton Osborne. +Septimus. By William J. Locke. +Silver Horde, The. By Rex Beach. +Spirit Trail, The. By Kate & Virgil D. Boyles. +Stanton Wins. By Eleanor M. Ingram. +Stolen Singer, The. By Martha Bellinger. +Three Brothers, The. By Eden Phillpotts. +Thurston of Orchard Valley. By Harold Bindloss. +Title Market, The. By Emily Post. +Vigilante Girl, A. By Jerome Hart. +Village of Vagabonds, A. By F. Berkeley Smith. +Wanted--A Chaperon. By Paul Leicester Ford. +Wanted: A Matchmaker. By Paul Leicester Ford. +Watchers of the Plains, The. By Ridgwell Cullum. +White Sister, The. By Marion Crawford. +Window at the White Cat, The. By Mary Roberts Rhinehart. +Woman in Question. The. By John Reed Scott. + + + + +Popular Copyright Books + +AT MODERATE PRICES + +Any of the following titles can be bought of your +bookseller at the price you paid for this volume + +Anna the Adventuress. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. +Ann Boyd. By Will N. Harben. +At The Moorings. By Rosa N. Carey. +By Right of Purchase. By Harold Bindloss. +Carlton Case, The. By Ellery H. Clark. +Chase of the Golden Plate. By Jacques Futrelle. +Cash Intrigue, The. By George Randolph Chester. +Delafield Affair, The. By Florence Finch Kelly. +Dominant Dollar, The. By Will Lillibridge. +Elusive Pimpernel, The. By Baroness Orczy. +Ganton & Co. By Arthur J. Eddy. +Gilbert Neal. By Will N. Harben. +Girl and the Bill, The. By Bannister Merwin. +Girl from His Town, The. By Marie Van Vorst. +Glass House, The. By Florence Morse Kingsley. +Highway of Fate, The. By Rosa N. Carey. +Homesteaders, The. By Kate and Virgil D. Boyles. +Husbands of Edith, The. George Barr McCutcheon, +Inez. (Illustrated Ed.) By Augusta J. Evans. +Into the Primitive. By Robert Ames Bennet. +Jack Spurlock, Prodigal. By Horace Lorimer. +Jude the Obscure. By Thomas Hardy. +King Spruce. By Holman Day. +Kingsmead. By Bettina Von Hutten. +Ladder of Swords, A. By Gilbert Parker. +Lorimer of the Northwest. By Harold Bindloss. +Lorraine. By Robert W. Chambers. +Loves of Miss Anne, The. By S. R. Crockett + + + + +Popular Copyright Books + +AT MODERATE PRICES + +Any of the following titles can be bought of your +bookseller at the price you paid for this volume + +Marcaria. By Augusta J. Evans. +Mam' Linda. By Will N. Harben. +Maids of Paradise, The. By Robert W. Chambers. +Man in the Corner, The. By Baroness Orczy. +Marriage A La Mode. By Mrs. Humphry Ward. +Master Mummer, The. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. +Much Ado About Peter. By Jean Webster. +Old, Old Story, The. By Rosa N. Carey. +Pardners. By Rex Beach. +Patience of John Moreland, The. By Mary Dillon. +Paul Anthony, Christian. By Hiram W. Hays. +Prince of Sinners, A. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. +Prodigious Hickey, The. By Owen Johnson. +Red Mouse, The. By William Hamilton Osborne. +Refugees, The. By A. Conan Doyle. +Round the Corner in Gay Street. Grace S. Richmond. +Rue: With a Difference. By Rosa N. Carey. +Set in Silver. By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. +St. Elmo. By Augusta J. Evans. +Silver Blade, The. By Charles E. Walk. +Spirit in Prison, A. By Robert Hichens. +Strawberry Handkerchief, The. By Amelia E. Barr. +Tess of the D'Urbervilles. By Thomas Hardy. +Uncle William. By Jennette Lee. +Way of a Man, The. By Emerson Hough. +Whirl, The. By Foxcroft Davis. +With Juliet in England. By Grace S. Richmond. +Yellow Circle, The. By Charles E. Walk. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Orphan, by Clarence E. 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