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diff --git a/58155-0.txt b/58155-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..715a4f1 --- /dev/null +++ b/58155-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11213 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 58155 *** + + + + + + + + + + + + + Transcriber's Notes: + + Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and bold text by + =equal signs=. + + Small uppercase have been replaced with regular uppercase. + + Blank pages have been eliminated. + + Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been left as in the + original. + + + + + [Illustration: THE BAR-20 THREE] + + + + + THE + BAR-20 THREE + + BY CLARENCE E. MULFORD + + AUTHOR OF + + _"Johnny Nelson," "Hopalong Cassidy," "Bar-20 Days," + "Buck Peters, Ranchman," "The Man from Bar-20," + "Bar-20," "The Coming of Cassidy," etc._ + + [Illustration] + + FRONTISPIECE BY + FRANK E. SCHOONOVER + + A. L. BURT COMPANY + Publishers New York + + Published by arrangement with A. C. McClurg & Co. + + + + + Copyright + A. C. McClurg & Co. + 1921 + + Published April, 1921 + + _Copyrighted in Great Britain_ + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I "Put a 'T' in It" 1 + + II Well-Known Strangers 17 + + III A Question of Identity 28 + + IV A Journey Continued 49 + + V What the Storm Hid 66 + + VI The Writing on the Wall 82 + + VII The Third Man 89 + + VIII Notes Compared 103 + + IX Ways of Serving Notice 114 + + X Twice in the Same Place 126 + + XI A Job Well Done 133 + + XII Friends on the Outside 140 + + XIII Out and Away 160 + + XIV The Staked Plain 178 + + XV Discoveries 198 + + XVI A Vigil Rewarded 223 + + XVII A Well-Planned Raid 242 + + XVIII The Trail-Boss Tries His Way 254 + + XIX A Desert Secret 260 + + XX The Redoubt Falls 277 + + XXI All Wrapped Up 287 + + XXII The Bonfire 310 + + XXIII Surprise Valley 324 + + XXIV Squared Up All Around 344 + + + + + The Bar-20 Three + + + + + CHAPTER I + + "PUT A 'T' IN IT" + + +Idaho Norton, laughing heartily, backed out of the barroom of Quayle's +hotel and trod firmly on the foot of Ward Corwin, sheriff of the +county, who was about to pass the door. Idaho wheeled, a casual apology +trembling on his lips, to hear a biting, sarcastic flow of words, +full of profanity, and out of all proportion to the careless injury. +The sheriff's coppery face was a deeper color than usual and bore an +expression not pleasant to see. The puncher stepped back a pace, alert, +lithe, balanced, the apology forgotten, and gazed insolently into the +peace officer's wrathful eyes. + +"--an' why don't you look where yo're steppin'? Don't you know how to +act when you come to town?" snarled the sheriff, finishing his remarks. + +Idaho looked him over coolly. "I know how to act in any company, even +yourn. Just now I ain't actin'--I'm waitin'." + +The sheriff's eyes glinted. "I got a good mind----" + +"You ain't got nothin' of th' sort," cut in the puncher, +contemptuously. "You ain't got nothin' good, except, mebby, yore +reg'lar plea of self-defense. I'm sayin' out loud that _that_ ain't no +good, here an' now; an' I'm waitin' to take it away from you an' use it +myself. You been trustin' too cussed much to that nickel badge." + +Bill Trask, deputy, who had a reputation not to be overlooked, now took +a hand from the rear, eager to add to his list of victims from any of +that outfit. The puncher was between him and the sheriff, and hardly +could watch them both. Trask gently shook his belt and said three +unprintable words which usually started a fight, and then glared over +his shoulder at a sudden interruption, tense and angry. + +"Shut up, you!" said the voice, and he saw a two-gun stranger slouching +away from the hotel wall. The deputy took him in with one quick glance +and then his eyes returned to those of the stranger and rested there +while a slight prickling sensation ran up his spine. He had looked into +many angry eyes, and in many kinds of circumstances, but never before +had his back given him a warning quite so plainly. He grew restless and +wanted to look away, but dared not; and while he hung in the balance of +hesitation the stranger spoke again. "Two to one ain't fair, 'specially +with the lone man in th' middle; but I'll make th' odds even, for +I'm honin' to claim self-defense, myself. It's right popular. I saw +it all--an' I'm sayin' you are three chumps to get all het up over a +little thing like that. Mebby his toes _are_ tender--but what of it? He +ain't no baby, leastawise he don't look like one. An' I'm tellin' you, +an' yore badge-totin' friend, that _I_ know how to act, too." A twinkle +came into the hard, blue eyes. "But what's th' use of actin' like four +strange dogs?" + +Somewhere in the little crowd a man laughed, others joined in and +pushed between the belligerents; and in a minute the peace officers had +turned the corner, Idaho was slowly walking toward the two-gun stranger +and the crowd was going about its business. + +"Have a drink?" asked the puncher, grinning as he pushed back his hat. + +"Didn't I just say that I knowed how to act?" chuckled the stranger, +turning on his heel and following his companion through the door. "You +must 'a' met them two before." + +"Too cussed often. What'll you have? Make mine a cigar, too, Ed. No +more liquor for me today--Corwin don't forget." + +The bartender closed the box and slid it onto the backbar again. +"No, he don't," he said. "An' Trask is worse," he added, looking +significantly at the stranger, whose cigar was now going to his +satisfaction and who was smilingly regarding Idaho, and who seemed to +be pleased by the frank return scrutiny. + +"You ain't a stranger here no longer," said Idaho, blowing out a cloud +of smoke. "You got two good enemies, an' a one-hoss friend. Stayin' +long?" + +"About half an hour. I got a little bunch of cows on th' drive west of +here, an' they ought to be at Twitchell an' Carpenter's corrals about +now. Havin' rid in to fix up bed an' board for my little outfit, I'm +now on my way to finish deliverin' th' herd. See you later if yo're in +town tonight." + +"I don't aim to go back to th' ranch till tomorrow," replied Idaho, and +he hesitated. "I'm sorry you horned in on that ruckus--there's mebby +trouble bloomin' out of that for you. Don't you get careless till yo're +a day's ride away from this town. Here, before you go, meet Ed Doane. +He's one of th' few white men in this runt of a town." + +The bartender shook hands across the bar. "Pleased to meet up with you, +Mr.--Mr.----?" + +"Nelson," prompted the stranger. "How do you do, Mr. Doane?" + +"Half an' half," answered the dispenser of liquids, and then waved a +large hand at the smiling youth. "Shake han's with Idaho Norton, who +was never closer to Idaho than Parsons Corners, thirty miles northwest +of here. Idaho's a good boy, but shore impulsive. He's spent most of +his life practicin' th' draw, et cetery; an' most of his money has went +for ca'tridges. Some folks say it ain't been wasted. Will you gents +smoke a cigar with me?" + +After a little more careless conversation Johnny nodded his adieus, +mounted and rode south. Not long thereafter he came within sight of the +Question-Mark, Twitchell and Carpenter's local ranch. + +Its valley sloped eastward, following the stream winding down its +middle between tall cottonwoods, and the horizon was limited by the +tops of the flanking hills, which dipped and climbed and zigzagged into +the gray of the east, where great sand hills reared their glistening +tops and the hopeful little creek sank out of sight into the dried, +salty bed of a one-time lake. Near the trail were two buildings, a +small stockaded corral and a wire-fenced pasture of twenty acres; and +the Question-Mark brand, known wherever cattlemen congregated, even +beyond the Canadian line, had been splashed with red paint on the +wall of the larger building. The glaring, silent interrogation-mark +challenged every passing eye and had started many curious, grim, and +cynical trains of thought in the minds of tired and thirsty wayfarers +along the trail. To the north of the twenty-acre pasture a herd of SV +cattle grazed, spread out widely, too tired, too content with their +feeding to need much attention. + +Johnny saw the great, red question-mark and instantly drew rein, +staring at it. "Why?" he muttered, and then grew silent for a moment. +Shaking his head savagely he urged the horse on again, and again +glanced at the crimson interrogation. "D--n you!" he growled. "There +ain't no man livin' can answer." + +He passed the herd at a distance and rode up to the larger building, +where a figure suddenly appeared in the doorway, looked out from under +a shielding hand and quickly stepped forward to meet him. + +"Hello, Nelson!" came the cheery greeting. + +"Hello, Ridley!" replied Johnny. "Glad to see you again. Thought I'd +bring 'em down to you, an' save you goin' up th' trail after 'em. Why +don't you paint out that glarin' question-mark on th' side of th' +house?" + +Ridley slapped his hands together and let out a roar of laughter. "Has +it got you, too?" he demanded in unfeigned delight. + +"Not as much as it would before I got married," replied Johnny. "I'm +beginnin' to see a reason for livin'." + +"Good!" exclaimed Ridley. "If I ever meet yore wife I'll tell her +somethin' that'll make her dreams sweet." The expression of his face +changed swiftly. "Do you know--" he considered, and changed the form +of his words. "You'd be surprised if you knew th' number of people hit +by that painted question-mark. I've had 'em ride in here an' start all +kinds of conversations with me; th' gospel sharps are th' worst. One +man blew his brains out in Quayle's hotel because of what that sign +started workin' in his mind. Go look at it: it's full of bullet holes!" + +"I don't have to," replied Johnny, and quickly answered his companion's +unspoken challenge. "An' I can sleep under it, an' smile, cuss you!" He +glanced at the distant cattle. "Have you looked 'em over?" + +Ridley nodded. "They're in good shape. Ready to count 'em now?" + +"Be glad to, an' get 'em off my han's." + +"Bring 'em up in front of th' pasture, an' I'll wait for you there," +said Ridley. + +Johnny wheeled and then checked his horse. "What kind of fellers are +Corwin an' Trask?" he asked. + +Ridley looked up at him, a curious expression on his face. "Why?" + +"Oh, nothin'; I was just wonderin'." + +"As long as you ain't aimin' to stop around these parts for long, th' +less you know about 'em th' better. I'll be waitin' at th' pasture." + +Johnny rode off and started the herd again, and when it stopped it was +compacted into a long V, with the point facing the pasture gate, and +it poured its units from this point in a steady stream between the two +horsemen at the open gate, who faced each other across the hurrying +procession and built up another herd on the other side, one which +spread out and grazed without restraint, unless it be that of a wire +fence. And with the shrinking of the first and the expanding of the +second the SV ownership changed into that of the Question-Mark. + +The shrewd, keen-eyed buyer for Twitchell and Carpenter looked up as +the gate closed after the last steer and smiled across the gap at the +SV foreman as he announced his count. + +Johnny nodded. "My figgers, to a T," he said. "That 2-Star steer don't +belong to us. Joined up with us some where along th' trail. You know +'em?" + +"Belongs to Dawson, up on th' north fork of th' Bear. I'll drop him a +check in a couple of days. This feller must 'a' wandered some to get in +with yourn. Well, yourn is a good bunch of four-year-olds. You'll have +to wait till I get to town, for I ain't got a blank check left, an' I +shore ain't got no one thousand one hundred and forty-three dollars +layin' around down here. Want cash or a check?" + +"If I took a check I'd have to send somebody up to Sherman with it," +replied Johnny. "I might take it at that, if I was goin' right back. +Better make it cash, Ridley." + +Ridley grinned. "I've swept up this part of th' country purty good." + +Johnny shook his head. "I'm lookin' for weaners--an' not in this part +of th' country. I'll see you in town." + +"Before supper," said Ridley. "You puttin' up at Quayle's?" + +"You called it," answered Johnny, wheeling. He rode off, picked up his +small outfit and led the way to Mesquite, where he hoped to spend but +one night. The little SV group cantered over the thin trail in the wake +of their bobbing chuck wagon, several miles ahead of them, and reached +the town well ahead of it, much to the cook's vexation. As they neared +Quayle's hotel Johnny pulled up. + +"This is our stable," he said. "Go easy, boys. We leave at daylight. +See you at supper." + +They answered him laughingly and swept on to Kane's place, which they +seemed to sense, each for his favorite, drink and game. + +The afternoon shadows were long when Ridley, just from the bank, left +his rangy bay in front of the hotel and entered the office, nodding to +several men he knew. He went on through and stopped at the bar. + +"Howd'y, Ed," he grunted. "That SV foreman around? Nelson's his name." + +Ed Doane mopped up the bar mechanically and bobbed his head toward the +door. "Here he comes now. Make a deal?" + +Ridley nodded as he turned. "Hello, Nelson! Read this over. If it's all +right, sign it, an' we'll let Ed disfigure it as a witness. I allus +like a witness." + +Johnny signed it with the pen the bartender provided and then the +bartender labored with it and blew on it to dry the ink. + +"Disfigure it, hey?" chuckled Ed, pointing to his signature, which was +beautifully written but very much over-done. "That bill of sale's worth +somethin' now." + +Johnny admired it frankly and openly. "I allus did like shadin', an' +them flourishes are plumb fetchin'. Me, now; I write like a cow." + +"I'm worse," admitted Ridley, chuckling and giving Johnny a roll of +bills. "Count 'em, Nelson. Folks usually turn my writin' upside down +for th' first try. Speakin' of witnesses, there's another little thing +I like. I allus seal documents, Ed. Take 'em out of that bottle you +hide under th' bar. Three of 'em. Somehow, Ed, I allus like to see you +stoop like that. Well, Nelson; does it count up right? Then, business +bein' over, here's to th' end of th' drought." + +It went the rounds, Ed accumulating three cigars as his favorite +beverage, and as the glasses clicked down on the bar Ridley felt for +the makings. "Sorry th' bank's closed, Nelson. It might be safer there +over night." + +"Mebby but it's safe enough, anyhow," smiled Johnny, shrugging his +shoulders. "Anyhow th' bank wouldn't be open early enough in th' +mornin' for us. Which reminds me that I better go out an' look around. +My four-man outfit's got to leave at daylight." + +"I'll go with you as far as th' street," said Ridley. As they neared +the door Johnny hung back to let his companion pass through first and +as he did so he heard a soft call from the bartender, and half turned. + +"Come here a minute," said Doane, leaning over the bar. "It ain't none +of my business, Nelson, but I'm sayin' _I_ wouldn't go into Kane's with +th' wad of money you got on you; an' if I did I shore wouldn't show it +nor get in no game. You don't have to remember that I said anythin' +about this." + +"I never gamble with money that don't belong to me," replied Johnny, +"nor not even while I've got it on me; an' already I've forgot you said +anythin'. That place must be a sort of 'sink of iniquity,' as that +sanctified parson called Abilene." + +"Huh!" grunted Doane. "You can put a 'T' in that 'sink,' an' there's +only one place where a 'T' will fit. Th' money would be enough, but in +yore case there's more. Idaho said it." + +"He's only a kid," deprecated Johnny. + +"'Out of th' mouths of babes--'" replied Doane. "I'm tellin' +you--that's all." + +Ridley stuck his head in at the door. "So-long, fellers," he said. + +"Hey, Ridley!" called the bartender hurriedly. "Would you go into +Kane's if you had Nelson's roll on you?" + +"Not knowin' what I might do under th' infloonce of likker, I can't +say," answered Ridley; "but if I did I wouldn't drink in there. +So-long, an' I mean it, this time," and he did. + +Johnny left soon afterward and wandered along the street toward the +building on the northern outskirts of the town where Pecos Kane ran +a gambling-house and hotel. Johnny ignored the hotel half and lolled +against the door as he sized up the interior of the gambling-hall, and +instantly became the center of well-disguised interest. While he paused +inside the threshold a lean, tall man arose from a chair against the +wall and sauntered carelessly out of sight through a narrow doorway +leading to a passage in the rear. Kit Thorpe was not a man to loaf on +his job when a two-gun stranger entered the place, especially when the +stranger appeared to be looking for someone. Otherwise there was no +change in the room, the bartender polishing his glasses without pause, +the card players silently intent on their games and the man at the +deserted roulette table who held a cloth against the ornate spinning +wheel kept on polishing it. They seemed to draw reassurance from +Thorpe's disappearance. + +One slow look was enough to satisfy Johnny's curiosity. The room was +about sixty feet long by half as wide and on his left-hand side lay +the bar, built solidly from the floor by close-fitting planks running +vertically, which appeared to be of hardwood and quite thick, and the +top was of the same material. Several sand-box cuspidors lay before it. +The backbar was a shelf backed by a narrow mirror running well past +the middle half, and no higher than necessary to give the bartender +a view of the room when he turned around, which he did but seldom. +Round card-tables, heavy and crude, were scattered about the room and +a row of chairs ran the full length along the other side wall. Several +loungers sat at the tables, one of them an eastern tough, judging from +his clothes, his peaked cap pulled well down over his eyes. At the +farther end was a solid partition painted like a checkerboard and the +few black squares which cunningly hid several peep-holes were not to +be singled out by casual observation. Those who knew said that they +were closed on their inner side by black steel plates which hung on +oiled pivots and were locked shut by a pin. At a table in front of the +checkerboard were four men, one flung forward on it, his head resting +on his crossed arms; another had slumped down on the edge of his chair, +his chin on his chest, while the other two carried on a grunted, +pessimistic conversation across their empty glasses. + +Johnny's face flickered with a faint smile and he walked toward them, +nodding carelessly at the man behind the bar. + +Arch Wiggins looked up, a sickly grin on his flushed face. "Hullo," he +grunted, foolishly. + +"Not havin' nothin' else to do I reckoned I'd look you up," said +Johnny. "Fed yet?" + +Arch shrugged his shoulders and Sam Gardner sighed expressively, and +then prodded the slumped individual into semblance of intelligence and +erectness. This done he kicked the shins of the prostrate cook until +that unfortunate raised an owlish, agonized, and protesting countenance +to stare at his foreman. + +"Nelson wants to know if yo're hungry," prompted Sam, grinning. + +"Take it--away!" mumbled the indignant cook. "I _won't_ eat! Who's +goin' to make me?" he demanded with a show of pugnacity. "I won't!" + +Joe Reilly, painfully erect in his chair, blinked and focussed his +eyes on the speaker. "Then don't!" he said. "Shut yore face--others +kin eat!" He turned his whole body, stiff as a ramrod, and looked at +each of the others in turn. "Don't pay no 'tention to him. I kin--eat +th'--d--d harness," he asserted, thereby proving that his stomach +preserved family traditions. + +Johnny laughed at them. "Yo're a h--l of an outfit," he said without +conviction. "What do you say about goin' up to th' hotel an' gettin' +somethin' to eat? It's past grubtime, but let's see if they'll have +th' nerve to try to tell us to get out. Broke?" he inquired, and as +they silently arose to their feet, which seemed to take a great deal +of concentration, he chuckled. Then his face hardened. "Where's yore +guns?" he demanded. + +Arch waved elaborately at the disinterested bartender. "That gent +loaned us ten apiece on 'em," he said. "'Bligin' feller. Thank you, +friend." + +"Yo're a'right," said the cook, nodding at the dispenser of fluids. + +"An' yo're a fine, locoed bunch, partin' with yore guns in a strange +town," snapped Johnny. "You head for th' hotel, _pronto_! G'wan!" + +The cook turned and waved a hand at the solemn bartender. "Goo'-bye!" +he called. "I _won't_ eat! Goo'-bye." + +Seeing them started in the right direction, Johnny went in and up to +the bar. "Them infants don't need guns," he asserted, digging into a +pocket, "but as long as they ain't shot themselves, yet, I'm takin' a +chance. How much?" + +The bartender, typical of his kind, looked wise when it was not +necessary, finished polishing the glass in his hand and then slowly +faced his inquisitor, bored and aloof. He had the condescending air +of one who held himself to be mentally and physically superior to +any man in town, and his air of preoccupation was so heavy that it +was ludicrous. "Ten apiece," he answered nonchalantly, as behove the +referee of drunken disputes, the adviser of sodden men, the student +of humanity's dregs, whose philosophy of life was rotten to the core +because it was based purely on the vicious and the weak, and whose +knowledge, adjudged abysmal and cyclopedic by an admiring riffraff of +stupefied mentality, was as shallow, warped, and perverted as the +human derelicts upon which his observations were based. As Johnny's +hand came up with the roll of bills the man of liquor kept his face +passive by an act of will, but there crept into the ratlike eyes a +strange gleam, which swiftly faded. "Put it way," he said heartily, a +jovial, free-handed good fellow on the instant. "We got it back, an' +more. It was worth th' money to have these where they wouldn't be too +handy. We allus stake a good loser--it's th' policy of th' house. Take +these instead of th' stake." He slid the heavy weapons across the bar. +"What'll you have?" + +"Same as you," replied Johnny, and he slowly put the cigar into a +pocket. "Purty quiet in here," he observed, laying two twenty-dollar +bills on the bar. + +"Yeah," said the bartender, pushing the money back again; "but it's a +cheerful ol' beehive at night. Better put that in yore pocket an' drop +in after dark, when things are movin'. I know a blonde that'll tickle +you 'most to death. Come in an' meet her." + +"Tell you what," said Johnny, grinning to conceal his feelings. "You +keep them bills. If I keep 'em I'll have to let them fools have their +guns back for nothin'. I'm aimin' to take ten apiece out of their +pay. If you don't want it, give it to th' blonde, with Mr. Nelson's +compliments. It won't be so hard for me to get acquainted with her, +then." + +The bartender chuckled and put the bills in the drawer. "Yo're no +child, I'm admittin'. Reckon you been usin' yore head quite some since +you was weaned." + +One of the card players at the nearest table said something to his +two companions and one of them leaned back stretched and arose. "I'm +tired. Get somebody to take my place." + +The sagacious observer of the roll of bills started to object to the +game being broken up, glanced at Johnny and smiled. "All right; mebby +this gent will sit in an' kill a little time. How 'bout it, stranger?" + +Johnny smiled at him. "My four-man outfit ain't leavin' me no time to +kill," he answered. "I got to trail along behind 'em an' pick up th' +strays." + +The gambler grinned sympathetically. "Turn 'em loose tonight. What's +th' use of herdin' with yearlin's, anyhow? If you get tired of their +company an' feel like tryin' yore luck, come in an' join us." + +"If I find that I got any heavy time on my han's I'll spend a couple +of hours with you," replied Johnny. As he turned toward the door he +glanced at the bartender. "Don't forget th' name when you give her th' +forty," he laughed. + +The bartender chuckled. "I got th' best mem'ry of any man in this +section. See you later, mebby." + +Johnny nodded and departed, his hands full of guns, and as he vanished +through the front door Kit Thorpe reappeared from behind the partition, +grinned cynically at the bartender and received a wise, very wise look +in return. + +Reaching the hotel Johnny entered it by the nearest door, that of the +barroom, walked swiftly through with the redeemed guns dangling from +his swinging hands and without pausing in his stride, flung a brief +remark over his shoulder to the man behind the bar, who was the only +person, besides himself, in the room: "You was shore right. It should +ought to have a 'T' in it," and passed through the other door, across +the office and into the dining-room, where his four men were having an +argument with a sullen waiter and a wrathy cook. + +Ed Doane straightened up, his ears preserving the words, his eyes +retaining the picture of an angry, hurrying two-gun man from whose +hands swung four more guns. He cogitated, and then the possible +significance of the numerous weapons sprang into his mind. Ed did not +go around the bar. He vaulted it and leaped to the door, out of which +he hopefully gazed at the tranquil place of business of Pecos Kane. +Slowly the look of hope faded and he returned to his place behind the +bar, scratching his frowsy head in frank energy, his imagination busy +with many things. + + + + + CHAPTER II + + WELL-KNOWN STRANGERS + + +The desert and a paling eastern sky. The penetrating cold of the dark +hours was soon to die and give place to a punishing heat well above +the hundred mark. Spectral agaves, flinging their tent-shaped crowns +heavenward, seemed to spring bodily from the radiating circlet of spiny +swords at their bases, their slender stems still lost in the weakening +darkness. Pale spots near the ground showed where flower-massed yuccas +thrust up, lancelike, from their slender, prickly leaves. Giant +cacti, ghostly, bulky, indistinct, grotesque in their erect, parallel +columns reached upward to a height seven times that of a tall man. +They are the only growing things unmoved by winds. The sage, lost in +the ground-hugging darkness, formed a dark carpet, mottled by lighter +patches of sand. There were quick rustlings over the earth as swift +lizards scurried hither and yon and a faint whirring told of some +"side-winder" vibrating its rattles in emphatic warning against some +encroachment. Tragedies were occurring in the sage, and the sudden +squeak of a desert rat was its swan song. + +In the east a silvery glow trembled above the horizon and to the magic +of its touch silhouettes sprang suddenly from vague, blurred masses. +The agave, known to most as the century plant, showed the delicate +slenderness of its arrowy stem and marked its conical head with +feathery detail. The flower-covered spikes of the Spanish bayonets +became studies in ivory, with the black shadows on their thorny spikes +deep as charcoal. The giant cacti, boldly thrown against the silver +curtain, sprang from their joining bases like huge, thick telegraph +poles of ebony, their thorns not yet clearly revealed. The squat sage, +now resolved into tufted masses, might have been the purplish-leaden +hollows of a great sea. The swift rustlings became swift movements and +the "side-winder" uncoiled his graceful length to round a nearby sage +bush. The quaking of a small lump of sand grew violent and a long, +round snoot pushed up inquiringly, the cold, beady eyes peering forth +as the veined lids parted, and a Gila monster sluggishly emerged, +eager for the promised warmth. To the northeast a rugged spur of +mountains flashed suddenly white along its saw-toothed edge, where +persistent snows crowned each thrusting peak. A moment more, and +dazzling heliographic signals flashed from the snowy caps, the first of +all earthly things to catch the rays of the rising sun, as yet below +the far horizon. On all sides as far as eye could pierce through the +morning twilight not a leaf stirred, not a stem moved, but everywhere +was rigidity, unreal, uncanny, even terrifying to an imaginative +mind. But wait! Was there movement in the fogging dark of the north? +Rhythmic, swaying movement, rising and falling, vague and mystical? And +the ghostly silence of this griddle-void was broken by strange, alien +sounds, magnified by contrast with the terror-inspiring silence. A soft +creaking, as of gently protesting saddle leather, interspersed with +the frequent and not unmusical tinkle of metal, sounded timidly, almost +hesitatingly out of the dark along the ground. + +Silver turned into pink, pink into gold, and gold into crimson in +almost a breath, and long crimson ribbons became lavender high in the +upper air, surely too beautiful to be a portent of evil and death. Yet +the desert hush tightened, constricted, tensed as if waiting in rigid +suspense for a lethal stroke. Almost without further warning a flaming, +molten arc pushed up over the far horizon and grew with amazing bulk +and swiftness, dispelling the chill of the night, destroying the beauty +of the silhouettes, revealing the purple sage as a mangy, leaden +coverlet, riddled and thin, squatting tightly against the tawny sand, +across which had sprung with instant speed long, vague shadows from +the base of every object which raised above the plain. The still air +shuddered into a slow dance, waving and quivering, faster and faster +like some mad dance of death, the rising heat waves distorting with +their evil magic giant cacti until their fluted, thorny columns weaved +like strange, slowly undulating snakes standing erect on curving tails. +And in the distance but a few leagues off blazed the white mockery +of the crystal snow, serene and secure on its lofty heights, a taunt +far-flung to madden the heat-crazed brain of some swollen, clawing +thing in distorted human form slowly dying on the baking sands. + +The movement was there, for the sudden flare of light magically +whisked it out of the void like a rabbit out of a conjurer's hat. Two +men, browned, leather-skinned, erect, silent, and every line of them +bespeaking reliance with a certainty not to be denied, were slowly +riding southward. Their horses, typical of their cow-herding type, +were loaded down with large canteens, and suggested itinerant water +peddlers. Two gallons each they held, and there were four to the horse. +One could imagine these men counted on taking daily baths--but they +were only double-riveting a security against the hell-fires of thirst, +which each of them had known intimately and too well. The first rider, +as erect in his saddle as if he had just swung into it, had a face +scored with a sorrow which only an iron will held back; his squinting +eyes were cold and hard, and his hair, where it showed beneath the +soiled, gray sombrero, was a sandy color, all of what was left of the +flaming crimson of its youth. He rode doggedly without a glance to +right or left, silent, sullen, inscrutable. When the glorious happiness +of a man's life has gone out there is but little left, often even to a +man of strength. Behind him rode his companion, five paces to the rear +and exactly in his trail, but his wandering glances flashed far afield, +searching, appraising, never still. Younger in years than his friend, +and so very much younger in spirit, there was an air of nonchalant +recklessness about him, occasionally swiftly mellowed by pity as his +eyes rested on the man ahead. Now, glancing at the sun-cowed east, his +desert cunning prompted him and he pushed forward, silently took the +lead and rode to a thicket of mesquite, whose sensitive leaves, hung +on delicate stems, gave the most cooling shade of any desert plant. +Dismounting, he picketed his horse and then added a side-line hobble as +double security against being left on foot on the scorching sands. Not +satisfied with that, he unfastened the three full canteens, swiftly +examined them for leaks and placed them under the bush. Six gallons of +water, but if need should arise he would fight to the death for it. Out +of the corner of his eye he watched his companion, who mechanically was +doing the same thing. Red Connors yawned, drank sparingly and then, +hesitating, grinned foolishly and fastened one end of his lariat to his +wrist. + +"That dessicated hunk of meanness don't leave this hombre afoot, not +nohow," said Red, looking at his friend; but Hopalong only stared into +the bush and made no reply. + +Nothing abashed at his companion's silence, Red stretched out at full +length under the scant shade, his Colt at his hand in case some Gila +monster should be curious as to what flavor these men would reveal to +an inquisitive bite. Red's ideas of Gilas were romantic and had no +scientific warrant whatever. And it was possible that a "side-winder" +might blunder his way. + +"It's better than a lava desert, anyhow," he remarked as he settled +down, having in mind the softness of the loose sand. "One whole day of +hell-to-leather fryin', an' one more shiverin' night, an' this stretch +of misery will be behind, but it shore saves a lot of ridin', it does. +I'll bet I'm honin' for a swim in th' Rio Placer--an' I ain't carin' +how much mud there is, neither. Ah, th' devil;" he growled in great +disgust, slowly arising. "I done forgot to sprinkle them cayuses' +insides. One apiece, they get, which is only insultin' 'em." + +Hopalong tried to smile, arose and filled his hat, which his thirsty +horse frantically emptied. When the canteen was also empty he went back +to the sandy couch, to lay awake in the scorching heat, fighting back +memories which tortured him near to madness, his mental torments making +him apathetic to physical ones. And so dragged the weary, trying day +until the cooling night let them go on again. + +Three days later they rode into Gunsight, made careless inquiries and +soon thereafter drew rein before the open door of the SV, unconscious +of the excited conjectures rioting in the curious town. + +Margaret Nelson went to the door, her brother trying to push past her, +and looked wonderingly up at the two smiling strangers. + +Red bowed and removed his hat with a flourish. "Mrs. Johnny?" he asked, +and at the nodded assent smiled broadly. "My name's Red Connors, an' +my friend is Hopalong Cassidy. He is th' very best friend yore fool +husband ever had. We came down to make Johnny's life miserable for a +little while, an' to give you a hand with his trainin', if you need it." + +Margaret's breath came with a rush and she held out both hands with +impulsive friendliness. "Oh!" she cried. "Come in. You must be tired +and hungry--let Charley turn your horses into the corral." + +Charley wriggled past the barrier and jumped for Hopalong, his shrill +whoop of delighted welcome bringing a smile to the stern face of the +mounted man. A swoop of the rider's arm, a writhing twist of the boy's +body, coming a little too late to avoid the grip of that iron hand, and +Charley shot up and landed in front of the pommel, where he exchanged +grins at close range with his captor. + +"I knowed you first look," asserted the boy as the grip was released. +"My, but I've heard a lot about you! Yo're goin' to stay here, ain't +you? I know where there's some black bear, up on th' hills--want to go +huntin' with me?" + +Hopalong's tense, wistful look broke into a smile, the first sincere, +honest smile his face had known for a month. Gulping, he nodded, and +turned to face his friend's wife. "Looks like I'm adopted," he said. +"If you don't mind, Mrs. Johnny, Charley an' me will take care of th' +cayuses while Red helps you fix up th' table." He reached out, grasped +the bridle of Red's horse as its rider dismounted, and rode to the +corral, Charley's excited chatter bringing an anxious smile to his +sister, but a heartfelt, prayerful smile to Red Connors. He had great +hopes. + +Red paused just inside the door. "Mrs. Johnny," he said quietly, +quickly, "I got to talk fast before Hoppy comes back. He lost his wife +an' boy a month ago--fever--in four days. He's all broke up. Went loco +a little, an' even came near shootin' me because I wouldn't let him +go off by hisself. I've had one gosh-awful time with him, but finally +managed to get him headed this way by talkin' about Johnny a-plenty. +That got him, for th' kid allus was a sort of son to him. I'm figgerin' +he'll be a lot better off down here on this south range for awhile. +Even crossin' that blasted desert seemed to help--he loosened up his +talk considerable since then. An' from th' way he grabbed that kid, I'm +sayin' I'm right. Where is Johnny?" + +"Oh!" Margaret's breathed exclamation did not need the sudden moisture +in her eyes to interpret it, and in that instant Red Connors became +her firm, unswerving friend. "We'll do our best--and I think he should +stay here, always. And Johnny will be delighted to have him with us, +and you, too--Red." + +"Here he comes," warned her companion. "Where is Johnny? When will he +get here?" + +"Why, he took a herd down to Mesquite," she replied, smiling at +Hopalong, who limped slowly into the room with Charley slung under his +arm like a sack of flour. "He should be back any day now. And won't he +be wild with delight when he finds you two boys here! You have no idea +how he talks about you, even in his sleep--oh, if I were inclined to +jealousy you might not be so welcome!" + +"Ma'am," grinned Red, tickled as a boy with a new gun, "you don't +never want to go an' get jealous of a couple of old horned toads like +us--well, like Hoppy, anyhow. We'll sort of ride herd on him, too, +every time he goes to town. Talk about revenge! Oh, you wait! So he +went off an' left you all alone? Didn't he write about some trouble +that was loose down here?" + +"It was--but it's cleaned up. He didn't leave me in any danger--every +man down here is our friend," Margaret replied, quick to sense the +carefully hidden thought which had prompted his words, and to defend +her husband. + +"Well, two more won't hurt, nohow," grunted Red. "You say he ought to +get here any day?" + +"I'm spending more time at the south windows every day," she smiled. "I +don't know what will happen to the housework if it lasts much longer!" + +"South windows?" queried Hopalong, standing Charley on his head before +letting loose of him. "Th' trail is west, ain't it?" he demanded, which +caused Red to chuckle inwardly at how his friend was becoming observant +again. + +"The idea!" retorted Margaret. "Do you think my boy will care anything +about any trail that leads roundabout? He'll leave the trail at the +Triangle and come straight for this house! What are hills and brush and +a miserable little creek to _him_, when he's coming home? I thought you +knew my boy." + +"We did, an' we do," laughed Red. "I'm bettin' yore way--I hope he's +got a good horse--it'll be a dead one if it ain't." + +"He's saving Pepper for the homestretch--if you know what _that_ means!" + +"Hey, Red," said Charley, slyly. "Yore gun works, don't it?" + +"Shore thing. Why?" + +"Well, mine don't," sighed the boy. "Wonder if yourn is too heavy, an' +strong, for a boy like me to shoot? _Bet_ it ain't." + +Margaret's low reproof was lost in Red's burst of laughter, and again a +smile crept to Hopalong's face, a smile full of heartache. This eager +boy made his memories painfully alive. + +"You an' me an' Hoppy will shore go out an' see," promised Red. "Mrs. +Johnny will trust you with us, I bet. Hello! Here's somebody comin'," +he announced, looking out of the door. + +"That's my dad!" cried Charley, bolting from the house so as to be the +first one to give his father the good news. + +Arnold rode up laughing, dismounted and entered the house with an +agility rare to him. And he was vastly relieved. "Well! Well! Well!" +he shouted, shaking hands like a pump handle. "I saw you ride over the +hill an' got here as fast as Lazy would bring me. Red an' Hopalong! Our +household gods with us in the flesh! And that scalawag off seeing the +sights of strange towns when his old friends come to visit him. I'm +glad to see you boys! The place is yours. Red and Hopalong! I'm not +a drinkin' man, but there are times when--follow me while Peggy gets +supper!" + +"Can I go with you, Dad?" demanded Charley. + +"You help Peggy set the table." + +"Huh! _I_ don't care! Me an' Hoppy an' Red are goin' after bear, an' +I'm goin' to use Red's gun." + +"Seems to me, Charley," reproved Arnold, "that you are pretty familiar, +for a boy; and especially on such short acquaintance. You might begin +practicing the use of the word 'Mister.'" + +"Or say 'Uncle Red' and 'Uncle Hopalong,'" suggested Margaret. + +"'Red' is my name, an' I'm shore 'Red' to him," defended that person. + +"Which goes for me," spoke up his companion. "I'm Hopalong, or Hoppy to +anybody in this family--though 'Uncle' suits me fine." + +"Then we'll have a fair exchange," retorted Margaret, smiling. "The +family circle calls me 'Margaret' or 'Peggy.'" + +"If you want to rile her, call her Maggie," said Charley. "She goes +right on th' prod!" + +"I'm plumb peaceful," laughed Red, turning to follow his host. "You +help Mrs.--Margaret, an' when I come back you an' me'll figger on goin' +after bear as soon as we can." + + + + + CHAPTER III + + A QUESTION OF IDENTITY + + +Johnny sauntered into Quayle's barroom and leaned against the bar, +talking to Ed Doane. An hour or two before he had finished his dinner, +warned his outfit again about the early start on the morrow, advanced +them some money, and watched them leave the hotel for one more look at +the town, and now he was killing time. + +"What do you think about Kane's?" asked Ed carelessly, and then looked +up as a customer entered. When the man went out he repeated the +question. + +Johnny cogitated and shrugged his shoulders. "Same as you. Reg'lar +cow-town gamblin'-hall, with th' same fixin's, wimmin', crooked games, +an' wise bums hangin' 'round. Am I right?" + +A group entered, and when they had been served they went into the hotel +office, the bartender's eyes on them as long as they were in sight. He +turned and frowned. "Purty near. You left a couple of things out. I'm +not sayin' what they are, but I _am_ sayin' this: Don't you ever pull +no gun in there if you should have any trouble. Wait till you get yore +man outside. Funny thing about that--sort of a spell, I reckon--but no +stranger ever got a gun out an' workin' in Kane's place. They died too +quick, or was put out of workin' order." + +Johnny raised his eyebrows: "Mebby no good man ever tried to get one +out, an' workin'." + +"You lose," retorted Ed emphatically. "Some of 'em was shore to be +good. It's a cold deck--with a sharpshooter. There I go again!" he +snorted. "I'm certainly shootin' off my mouth today. I must be loco!" + +"Then don't let that worry you. I ain't shootin' mine off," Johnny +reassured him. "I'm tryin' to figger----" + +A voice from the street interrupted him. "Hey, stranger! Yore outfit's +in trouble down in Red Frank's!" + +Johnny swung from the bar. "Where's _his_ place?" he asked. + +"One street back," nodded the bartender, indicating the rear of the +room. "Turn to yore right--third door. It's a Greaser dive--look sharp!" + +Johnny grunted and turned to obey the call. Walking out of the door, he +went to the corner, turned it, and soon turned the second corner. As he +rounded it he saw stars, reached for his guns by instinct, and dropped +senseless. Two shadowy figures pounced upon him, rolled him over, and +deftly searched him. + +Back in the hotel Idaho stuck his head into the barroom. "Seen Nelson?" +he asked. + +"Just went to Red Frank's this minute--his gang's in trouble there!" +quickly replied Ed. + +"I'll go 'round an' be handy, anyhow," said Idaho, loosening his gun as +he went through the door. Rounding the first corner, he saw a figure +flit into the darkness across the street and disappear, and as he +turned the second corner he tripped and fell over a prostrate man. One +glance and his match went out. Jumping around the corner, he saw a +second man run across an open space between two clumps of brush, and +his quick hand chopped down, a finger of flame spitting into the night. +A curse of pain answered it and he leaped forward, hot and vengeful; +but his search was in vain, and he soon gave it up and hastened back to +his prostrate friend, whom he found sitting up against the wall with an +open jackknife in his hand. + +"What happened?" demanded Idaho, stopping and bending down. "Where'd he +get you?" + +"Somethin' fell on my head--an' my guns are gone," mumbled Johnny. +"I--bet I've been robbed!" His slow, fumbling search revealed the +bitter truth, and he grunted. "Clean! Clean!" + +"I shoved a hunk of lead under th' skin of somebody runnin'--heard him +yelp," Idaho said. "Lost him in th' dark. Here, grab holt of me. I'll +take you to my room in th' hotel. Able to toddle?" + +"Able to kill th' skunk with my bare han's," growled the unfortunate, +staggering to his feet. "I'm goin' to Kane's!" he asserted, and Idaho's +arguments were exhausted before he was able to have his own way. + +"You come along with me--I want to look at yore head. An', besides, +you ought to have a gun before you go huntin'. Come, on. We'll go in +through th' kitchen--that's th' nearest way. It's empty now, but th' +door's never locked." + +"You gimme a gun, an' I'll know where to go!" blazed Johnny, trembling +with weakness. "I showed my roll in there, like a fool. Eleven +hundred--h--l of a foreman _I_ am!" + +"You can't just walk into a place an' start shootin'!" retorted +Idaho, angrily. "_Will_ you listen to sense? Come on, now. After you +get sensible you can do what you want, an' I'll go along an' help you +do it. That's fair, ain't it? How do you know that feller belongs to +Kane's crowd? May be a Greaser, an' a mile away by now. Come on--be +sensible!" + +"Th' SV can't afford to lose that money--oh, well," sighed Johnny, +"yo're right. Go ahead. I'll wash off th' blood, anyhow. I must be a +holy show." + +They got to Idaho's room without arousing any unusual interest and +Idaho examined the throbbing bump with clumsy fingers, receiving frank +statements for his awkwardness. + +"Shucks," he grinned, straightening up. "It's as big as an egg, but +besides th' skin bein' broke an' a lot of blood, there ain't nothin' +th' matter. I'll wash it off--an' if you keep yore hat on, nobody'll +know it. I reckon that hat just about saved that thick skull of yourn." + +"What did you see when you found me?" asked Johnny when his friend had +finished the job. + +Idaho told him and added: "Hoped I could tell him by th' yelp, but I +can't, unless, mebby, I go around an' make everybody in this part of +th' country yelp for me. But I don't reckon that's hardly reasonable." + +"Yo're right," grinned Johnny. "Well," he said, after a moment's +thought, "I don't go back home without eleven hundred dollars, U. S., +an' my guns; but I got to send th' boys back. They can't help me none, +bein' known as my friends. Besides, we're all broke, an' they're needed +on th' ranch. If I _knowed_ that Kane had a hand in this, I'd cussed +soon get that money back!" + +"Yo're shore plumb set on that Kane idear." + +"I showed that wad of bills in just two places: Ed's bar, an' Kane's +joint." + +"Ed's bar is out of it if nobody else was in there at th' time." + +"Only Ridley, Ed, an' myself." + +"Somebody could 'a' looked in th' window," suggested Idaho. + +"Nobody did, because I was lookin' around." + +"If you go in Kane's an' make a gunplay, you'll never know how it +happened or who done it; an' if you go in, without a gunplay, an' let +'em know what you think, some Greaser'll hide a knife in you. Then +you'll never get it back." + +"Just th' same, that's th' place to start from," persisted Johnny +doggedly. "An' from th' inside, too." + +Idaho frowned. "That may be so, but startin' it from there means to +end it there an' then. You can't buck Kane in his own place. It's been +tried more'n once. I ain't shore you can buck him in this town, or part +of th' country. Bigger people than you are suspected of payin' him +money to let 'em alone. You'd be surprised if I named names. Look here: +I better speak a little piece about this part of th' country. This +county is unorganized an' ain't got no courts, nor nothin' else except +a peace officer which we calls sheriff. It's big, but it ain't got +many votes, an' what it has is one-third Greaser. Most Greasers don't +amount to much in a stand-up fight, but their votes count. They are all +for Kane. We've only had one election for sheriff, an' although Corwin +is purty well known, he won easy. Kane did it, an' when anybody says +'Corwin,' they might as well say 'Kane.' He is boss of this section. +His gamblin'-joint is his headquarters, an' it's guarded forty ways +from th' jack. His gang is made up of all kinds, from th' near decent +down to th' night killer. When Kane wants a man killed, that man don't +live long. Corwin takes his orders before an' after a play like this +one. Yo're expected to report it to him. Comin' down to cases, th' pack +has got to be fed, an' they have got to make a killin' once in a while. +Even if Kane ain't in on it direct, he'll get most of that money across +his bar or tables. To wind up a long speech, you better go home with +yore men, for that ain't enough money to get killed over." + +"Mebby not if it was mine!" snapped Johnny. "An' I ain't shore about +that, neither. An' there's more'n money in this, an' more than th' way +I was handled. Somebody in this wart of a town has got Johnny Nelson's +two guns--an' nobody steals _them_ an' keeps 'em! I got friends, lots +of 'em, in Montanny, that would lend me th' money quick; but there +ain't nobody can give me them six-guns but th' thief that's got 'em. +I'm rooted--solid." + +"All right," said Idaho. "Yo're talkin' foolish, but cussed if I don't +like to hear it. So me an' you are goin' to hog-tie that gang. If I get +Corwin in th' ruckus, I'll be satisfied." + +"Yo're th' one that's talkin' foolish," retorted Johnny, fighting back +his grin. "An I'm cussed if _I_ don't like to hear it. But there's this +correction: Me an' you ain't goin' to bulldog that gang at all. _I_ +am. Yo're goin' to sprawl on yore saddle an' light out for wherever +you belong, an' stay there. Yo're a marked man an' wouldn't last th' +swish of a longhorn's tail. Yore brand is registered--they got you in +their brand books; but they ain't got mine. I'm not wearin' no brand. I +ain't even ear-notched, 'though I must 'a' been a 'sleeper' when I let +'em put this walnut on my head. I'm a plain, ornery maverick. Think I'm +comin' out in th' open? I don't want no brass band playin' when I go to +war. I'm a Injun." + +"Yo're a little striped animal in this town--one of them kind that's +onpleasant up-wind from a feller," snorted Idaho. "How can you play +Injun when they know yo're hangin' 'round here lookin' for yore money? +Answer me that, maverick!" + +"I'm comin' to that. Can you get me an old hat? One that's plumb wore +out?" + +"Reckon so," grunted Idaho, in surprise. "Th' clerk might be able to +dig one up." + +"No, not th' clerk; but Ed Doane," corrected Johnny. "Now you think +hard before you answer this one: Could you see my face plain when you +found me? Could _they_ have seen it plain enough to be shore it was me?" + +Idaho stared at him and a cheerful expression drifted across his +face. "I'm gettin' th' drift of this Injun business," he muttered. +"Mebby--mebby--cuss it, it _will_ work! I couldn't see nothin' but a +bump on th' ground along that wall till I lit a match. I'll get you a +hat an' I'll plant it, too." + +Johnny nodded. "Plant anythin' else you want that don't look like +anythin' I own. Be shore that hat ain't like mine." + +Idaho raised his hand as a sudden tramping sounded on the stairs. +"That yore outfit?" he asked as a loud, querulous voice was heard. + +Johnny went to the door and called, whereupon Arch waved his companions +toward their quarters and answered the summons, following his foreman +into the room. Johnny was about to close the door when Idaho arose and +pushed past him. + +"We been talkin' too loud," whispered the departing puncher. "You never +can tell. I'm goin' out to sit on th' top step where there's more air," +and he went on again, the door closing after him. + +Johnny turned and smiled at Arch's expression. "You boys leave at +daylight on th' jump. I got to stay here. You can say I'm waitin' for +th' chance to pick up some money--buyin' a herd of yearlin's cheap, or +anythin' you can think of. Anythin' that'll stick. You'll have plenty +of time to smooth it out before you get back home. I want you boys to +scratch up every cent you've got an' turn it over to me. Any left of +that I gave you after supper?" + +"Shore--quite some," grinned Arch. "We had better luck, down th' +street. You must be aimin' to get a-plenty yearlin's, with that roll +you got. What are _we_ goin' to do, busted?" + +"I want a couple of Colts, too," continued Johnny. "You won't need any +money. Th' waggin is well stocked--an' when you get back you can draw +on Arnold." + +"We was goin' to stop at Highbank for a good time," protested Arch. + +"Have it in yore old man's hotel an' owe it to him," suggested Johnny. + +"Have a good time in my old man's place!" exclaimed Arch. "Oh, _h--l_!" +He burst out laughing. "That'll tickle th' boys, _that_ will!" The +puncher looked searchingly at his foreman. "Hey, what's all th' +trouble?" + +Johnny thought it would be wiser to post his companion and crisply told +what had happened. + +Arch cleared his throat, hitched up his belt, and looked foolish but +determined. "It's been comin' rapid, but I got it all. Yo're talkin' to +th' wrong man. You want to fix up that story for th' ranch with some +soft-belly that's ridin' that way. Better send a letter. We're all +stayin' here. _Fine_ bunch of----" + +"You can help me more by goin' back like nothin's happened," +interrupted Johnny. "Th' ranch won't be worryin' me then, an' if you +stayed here it might give th' game away. Besides, one man can live +longer on th' money we got than four can, only have a quarter of th' +chance to drink too much, an' only talk a fourth as much. That's th' +natural play, an' everythin' has _got_ to be natural." + +"That's th' worst of havin' a smooth face," grumbled Arch, ruefully +rubbing his chin. "If I only had whiskers, I could shave 'em off an' be +a total stranger; but I don't reckon I could grow a good enough bunch +to get back here in time." + +Johnny laughed, his heart warming to the puncher. "Take _you_ a year +or two; an' there's more'n whiskers needed to hide from a _good_ man. +There's little motions, gait, voice--oh, lots of things. You can help +me more if you go north. See Dave Green, tell him on th' quiet, an' ask +him to send me down a couple hundred dollars. He can buy a check from +th' Doc, payable to George Norton. There's a bank in this town. He's to +send it to George Norton, general delivery." + +"Dave will spread it far an' wide," objected Arch. "He tells all he +knows." + +"If he did," smiled Johnny, "it shore would be an eddication for th' +man that heard it. He talks a lot--an' says nothin'. If he told all he +knew, h--l would 'a' popped long ago on them ranges. I'm only wishin' +he could get a job in Kane's!" + +"Gosh!" exclaimed Arch. "Mebby he can. He's a bang-up bartender." + +Johnny shook his head and laughed. + +"Well, I reckon you know best," said Arch. "If you say so, we'll go +home--but it hurts bad as a toothache. An' as long as we're goin', we +can start tonight--this minute." + +"You'll start at daylight, like honest folks," chuckled Johnny. "Think +I want Kane to sit down an' figger why a lazy outfit got ambitious all +at once? An' th' two boys that lend me their guns want to be ridin' +close to th' waggin, on its left side, until they get out of town. I +don't want anybody noticin' they ain't got their guns. Mebby their +coats'll hide 'em, anyhow. But before you do anythin' else, get me a +copy of that weekly newspaper downstairs. There's some layin' around +th' office. Shore you got it all?" + +Arch nodded, and his foreman opened the door. Idaho glanced around +and then went down the stairs and through the office, stopping at the +bar, where he held a low-voiced conversation with the man behind it. +Ed looked a little surprised at the unusual request, but Idaho's +earnestness and anxiety told him enough and he asked no questions. A +few minutes later, after Idaho had disappeared into the kitchen, Ed +told the clerk to watch the bar, and went up to his room, and dropped +several articles out of the window before he left it again. + +When Idaho had finished scouting and planting the sombrero, a broken +spur, and a piece torn from a red kerchief, he went into the barroom +and grinned at his friend Nelson, who leaned carelessly back against +the wall; and then his eyes opened wide as he saw the size of the roll +of bills from which Johnny was peeling the outer layer. For two hours +they sat and played California Jack in plain sight of the street as +though nothing unusual had occurred, Johnny's sombrero pushed back on +his head, the walnut handle of one of his guns in plain sight, his +boots not only guiltless of spurs, but showing that they never had +borne them, and his faded, soiled, blue neckerchief was as it had been +all day. His mood was cheerful and his laughter rang out from time +to time as his friend's witticisms gave excuse. To test his roll, he +pulled it out again under his friend's eyes and thumbed off a bill, +changed his mind, rolled it back again, and carelessly shoved the +handful into his pocket. + +Idaho leaned forward. "Who th' devil did _you_ slug?" he softly asked. + +"Tell you later--deal 'em up," grunted Johnny, a sigh of satisfaction +slipping from him. It had been one of Tex Ewalt's maxims never to be +broke, even if carefully trimmed newspapers had to serve as padding, +and in this instance, at least, Johnny believed his old friend to be +right. The world finds bluff very useful, and opulence seldom receives +a cold shoulder. + +At daylight three horsemen and a wagon went slowly up the little +street, two men sticking close to each other and the vehicle, and soon +became lost to sight. Two or three nighthawks paused and watched the +outfit, and one of them went swiftly into Kane's side door. Idaho drew +back from the corner of the hotel where he had been watching, nodded +wisely to himself, and went into the stable to look after his horse. + +The little outfit of the SV stopped when a dozen miles had been put +behind and prepared and ate a hurried breakfast. As he gulped the last +swallow of coffee, Arch arose and went to his horse. + +"Thirty miles a day with a waggin takes too long," he said. "One of you +boys ride in th' waggin an' gimme a lead hoss. Nelson's a good man, +an' it's our job to help him all we can. I can do it that way between +sleeps, if I can keep my eyes open to th' end of it. By gettin' a fresh +cayuse from my old man at Highbank, I'll set a record for these parts." + +Gardner nodded. "Take my cayuse, Arch. I'm crucifyin' myself on th' +cross of friendship. Cook, give him some grub." + +Ten minutes later Arch left them in a cloud of dust, glad to get away +from the wagon and keen to make a ride that would go down in local +history. + +After breakfast Johnny sauntered into the barroom, nodded carelessly to +the few men there, and seated himself in his favorite chair. + +"Thought mebby you might be among th' dear departed this mornin'," +remarked Ed carelessly. "Heard a shot soon after you left last night, +but they're so common 'round here that I didn't get none excited. Have +any trouble in Red Frank's?" + +"You better pinch yoreself," retorted Johnny. "You saw me an' Idaho +settin' right in this room, playin' cards long after that shot. I +was upstairs when I heard it. Didn't go to Red Frank's. Changed my +mind when I got around at th' side of th' hotel, an' went through th' +kitchen, upstairs lookin' for Idaho. What business I got playin' nurse +to four growed-up men? A lot they'd thank me for cuttin' in on their +play." + +"Did they have any trouble?" + +"No; they wasn't in Red Frank's at all--anyhow, that's what they said. +Somebody playin' a joke, or seein' things, I reckon. Seen Idaho this +mornin'?" + +"No, I ain't," answered Ed sleepily. "Reckon he's still abed. Say, +was that yore outfit under my winder before dawn? I come cussed near +shootin' th' loud-mouthed fool that couldn't talk without shoutin'." + +Johnny laughed. "I reckon it was. They was sore about havin' to go +home. Know of any good yearlin's I can buy cheap?" + +Ed yawned, rubbed his eyes, and slowly shook his head. "Too close to +Ridley. Folks down here mostly let 'em grow up an' sell 'em to him. +Prices would be too high, anyhow, I reckon. Better hunt for 'em nearer +home." + +"That's what I been doin'," growled Johnny. "Well, mebby yo're right +about local prices an' conditions; but I'm goin' to poke around an' ask +questions, anyhow. To tell you th' truth, a town looks good to me for +a change, 'though I'm admittin' this ain't much of a town, at that. +Sorta dead--nothin' happens, at all." + +"That's th' fault of th' visitor, then," retorted Ed, another yawn +nearly disrupting his face. "Ho-hum! Some day I'm goin' out an' find me +a cave, crawl in it, close it up behind me, an' sleep for a whole week. +An' from th' looks of you, it wouldn't do you no harm to do th' same +thing." He nodded heavily to the other customers as they went out. + +"I'll have plenty of time for sleep when I get home," grinned Johnny. +"I got to get some easy money out of this town before I think of +sleepin'. Kane's don't get lively till dark, does it?" + +Ed snorted. "Was you sayin' easy money?" he demanded with heavy sarcasm. + +"I was." + +"Oh, well; if you must, I reckon you must," grunted the bartender, +shrugging his shoulders. + +"A new man, playin' careful, allus wins in a place like Kane's, if he's +got a wad of money as big as mine," chuckled Johnny, voicing another +maxim of his friend Tex, and patting the bulging roll in his pocket. + +Ed looked at the pocket, and frowned. "Huh! Lord help that wad!" he +mourned. + +"It's got all th' help it needs," countered Johnny. "I'm its guardian. +I might change it for bigger bills, for it's purty prominent now. +However, that can wait till it grows some more." He burst out laughing. +"Big as it is, there's room for more." + +"Better keep some real little ones on th' outside," suggested Ed +wisely. "You show it too cussed much." + +"Do you know there's allus a right an' a wrong way of doin' +everythin'?" asked his companion. "A man that's got a lot of money will +play safe an' stick a few little ones on th' outside; but a man that's +got only little bills will try to get a big one for th' cover. One is +tryin' to hide his money; th' other to run a bluff. Wise gamblers know +that. I got little bills on th' outside of mine. You watch 'em welcome +me." + +Despite his boasts, he did not spend much time in Kane's, but slept +late and hung around the hotel for a day or two, and then, one morning, +he got a nibble on his bait. He was loafing on the hotel steps when he +caught sight of the sheriff coming up the street. Corwin had been out +of town and had returned only the night before. Seeing the lone man on +the steps, the peace officer lengthened his rolling stride and headed +straight for the hotel, his eyes fixed on the hat, guns, kerchief, and +boots. + +"Mornin'," he said, nodding and stopping. + +"Mornin'," replied Johnny cheerily. "Bright an' cool, but a little +mite too windy for this hour of th' day," he observed, watching a +vicious little whirlwind of dust racing up the middle of the street. It +suddenly swerved in its course, struck the sheriff, and broke, covering +them with bits of paper and hurling dust and sand in their faces and +mouths. Other furious little gusts sent the light débris of the street +high in the air to be tossed about wildly before settling back to earth +again. + +"Yo're shore shoutin'," growled Corwin, spitting violently and rubbing +his lips. "Don't like th' looks of it. Ain't got no love for a sand +storm." He let his blinking eyes rest for a moment on his companion's +boots, noted an entire absence of any signs of spur straps, glanced at +the guns and at the opulent bump in one of the trouser pockets, noted +the blue neckerchief, and gazed into the light blue eyes, which were +twinkling at his expression of disgust. "D--n th' sand," he grunted, +spitting again. "How do you like this town of ourn, outside of th' +dust, now that you've seen more of it?" + +Johnny smiled broadly. "Leavin' out a few things besides th' dust--such +as bein' too quiet, dead, an' lackin' 'most everythin' a town should +have--I'd say it is a purty fair town for its kind. But, bad as it is, +it ain't near as bad as that bed I've been sleepin' in. It reminds +me of some of th' country I've rid over. It's full of mesas, ridges, +canyons, an' valleys, an' all of 'em run th' wrong way. Cuss such a +bed. I gave it up after awhile, th' first night, an' played Idaho cards +till I was so sleepy I could 'a' slept on a cactus. After that, though, +it ain't been so bad. It's all in gettin' used to it, I reckon." + +The sheriff laughed politely. "Well, I reckon there ain't no bed like +a feller's own. Speakin' of th' town bein' dead, that is yore fault; +you shouldn't stay so close to th' hotel. Wander around a little an' +you'll find it plumb lively. There's Red Frank's an' Kane's--they are +high-strung enough for 'most anybody." The momentary gleam in his eyes +was not lost on his companion. + +"Red Frank's," cogitated Johnny. Then he laughed. "I come near goin' in +there, at that. Anyhow, I shore started." + +"Why didn't you go on?" inquired the sheriff, speaking as if from +polite, idle curiosity. "You might 'a' seen some excitement in there." + +"Somebody tried to play a joke on me," grinned Johnny, "but I fooled +'em. My boys are shore growed up." + +"How'd yore boys make out?" + +"They said they wasn't in there at all. Reckon somebody got excited +or drunk if they wasn't tryin' to make a fool out of me. But, come to +think of it, I _did_ hear a shot." + +"They're not as rare as they're goin' to be," growled the sheriff. "But +it's hard to stop th' shootin'. Takes time." + +Johnny nodded. "Reckon so. You got a bad crowd of Greasers here, too, +which makes it harder--though they're generally strong on knifeplay. +Mexicans, monte, an' mescal are a bad combination." + +"Better tell yore boys to look sharp in Red Frank's. It's a bad place, +'specially if a man's got likker in him. An' they'll steal him blind." + +"Don't have to tell 'em, for I sent 'em home," replied Johnny, and +then he grinned. "An' there ain't no man livin' can rob 'em, neither, +for I wouldn't let 'em draw any of their pay. Bein' broke, they didn't +kick up as much of a fuss as they might have. I know how to handle my +outfit. Say!" he exclaimed. "Yo're th' very man I been lookin' for, an' +I didn't know it till just this minute. Do you know where I can pick up +a herd of a couple or three hundred yearlin's at a fair figger?" + +Corwin shook his head. "You might get a few here an' there, but they +ain't worth botherin' about. Anyhow, prices are too high. Better look +around on yore way back, up on some of them God-forsaken ranges north +of here. But how'll you handle a herd with yore outfit gone?" + +His companion grinned and winked knowingly. "I'll handle it by buyin' +subject to delivery. Let somebody else have th' fun of drivin' a lot +of crazy-headed yearlin's all that distance. Growed-up steers are bad +enough, an' I've had all I want of them for awhile. Well," he chuckled, +"not havin' no yearlin's to buy, I reckon I've got time to wander +around nights. Six months in a ranchhouse is shore confinin'. I need a +change. What do you say to a little drink?" + +Corwin wiped more sand from his lips. "It's a little early in th' day +for me, but I'm with you. This blasted wind looks like it's gettin' +worse," he growled, scowling as he glanced about. + +"It's only addin' to th' liveliness of yore little town," chuckled +Johnny, leading the way. + +"We ain't had a sand storm in three years," boasted the sheriff, hard +on his companion's heels. "I see you know th' way," he commented. + +Johnny set down his empty glass and brought up the roll of bills, +peeled the outer from its companions, and tossed it on the bar. "You +got to take somethin' with us, Ed," he reproved. + +Ed shrugged his shoulders, slid the change across the counter, and +became thoughtfully busy with the arrangement of the various articles +on the backbar. + +Corwin treated, talked a few moments, and then departed, his busy brain +asking many questions and becoming steadily more puzzled. + +Ed mopped the bar without knowing he was doing it, and looked at his +new friend. "Where'd you pick _that_ up?" he asked. + +"Meanin'?" queried Johnny, glancing at the windows, where sand was +beating at the glass and pushing in through every crack in the woodwork. + +"Corwin." + +"Oh, he rambled up an' got talkin'. Reckon I'll go out, sand or no +sand, an' see if I can get track of any yearlin's, just to prove that +you don't know any thin' about th' cow business." + +"Nobody but a fool would go out into that unless they shore had to," +retorted Ed. "It's goin' to get worse, shore as shootin'. I know 'em. +Lord help anybody that has to go very far through it!" + +Johnny opened the door, stuck his head out and ducked back in again. +Tying his neckerchief over his mouth and nose, he went to the rear +door, closed his eyes, and plunged out into the storm, heading for the +stable to look to the comfort of his horse. Pepper rubbed her nozzle +against him, accepted the sugar with dignity, and followed his every +move with her great, black eyes. He hung a sack over the window and, +finding nails on a shelf, secured it against the assaults of the wind. + +"There, Pepper Girl--reckon you'll be right snug; but don't you go an' +butt it out to see what's goin' on outside. I'm glad this ain't no +common shed. Four walls are a heap better than three today." + +"That you, Nelson?" came a voice from the door. Idaho slid in, closed +the door behind him with a bang, and dropped his gun into the holster. +"This is shore a reg'lar storm; an' that's shore a reg'lar hoss!" he +exclaimed, spitting and blowing. He stepped toward the object of his +admiration. + +"Look out!" warned Johnny. "She's likely to brain a stranger. Trained +her that way. She'll mebby kill anybody that comes in here; but not +hardly while I'm around, I reckon. Teeth an' hoofs--she's a bad one if +she don't know you. That's why I try to get her a stable of her own. +What was you doin' with th' six-gun?" + +"Keepin' th' sand out of it," lied Idaho. "Thief-proof, huh?" he +chuckled. "I'm sayin' it's a good thing. Ever been tried?" + +"Twice," answered Johnny. "She killed th' first one." He lowered his +voice. "I'm figgerin' Corwin knows about that little fracas of th' +other night. Did you tell anybody?" + +"Not a word. What about yore outfit?" + +"Tight as fresh-water clams, an', besides, they didn't have no chance +to. They even left without their breakfast. But I'm dead shore he +knows. How did he find it out?" + +"Looks like you might be right, after all," admitted Idaho. "I kept +a lookout that mornin', like I told you, an' th' news of yore outfit +leavin' was shore carried, which means that somebody in Kane's gang was +plumb interested. How much do you think Corwin knows about it?" + +"Don't know; but not as much now as he did before he saw me this +mornin'," answered Johnny. "When he sized me up, his eyes gave him +away--just a little flash. But now he may be wonderin' who th' devil it +was that got clubbed that night. An' he showed more signs when he saw +my money. Say: How much does Ed know?" + +"Not a thing," answered Idaho. "He's one of my best friends, an' none +of my best friends ask me questions when I tell 'em not to. An' now I'm +glad I told him not to, because, of course, you don't know anythin' +about him. No, sir," he emphatically declared; "anythin' that Corwin +knows come from th' other side. What you goin' to do?" + +"I don't know," admitted Johnny. "I got to wrastle that out; but I _do_ +know that I ain't goin' out of th' hotel today. It looks like Californy +Jack for us till this blows over. Yore cayuse fixed all right?" + +"Shore; good as I can. Come on, if yo're ready." + +"Hadn't you better carry yore gun in yore hand, so th' sand won't get +in it?" asked Johnny gravely. + +Idaho looked at him and laughed. "Come on--I'm startin'," he said, and +he dashed out of the building, Johnny close at his heels. + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + A JOURNEY CONTINUED + + +Pounding into Highbank from the south, Arch turned the two fagged-out +horses into his father's little corral, roped the better of the two he +found there, saddled it, and rode around to the front of the hotel, +where he called loudly. + +Pete Wiggins went to the door and scowled at his son. "What you doin' +with that hoss?" he demanded in no friendly tone. + +"Breakin' records," impudently answered his young hopeful. "Left Big +Creek, north of Mesquite, at six-twenty this mornin', an' I'm due in +Gunsight before dark. Left you two cayuses for this one but don't ride +'em too hard. So-long!" and he was off in a cloud of dust. + +Pete Wiggins stepped forward galvanically and called, shaking his +first. "Come back here! Don't you kill _that_ hoss!" + +His beloved son's reply was anything but filial, but as long as his +wrathful father did not hear it, perhaps it may better be left out of +the record. + +The shadows were long when Arch drew up in front of the "Palace" in +Gunsight, and dismounted almost in the door. He looked at his watch +and proudly shouted the miles and the time of the ride before looking +to see who was there to hear it. As he raised his head and saw Dave +Green, Arnold, and two strangers staring at him, he called himself a +fool, walked stiffly to a chair, and lowered himself gently into it. + +"That's shore some ridin'," remarked Dave, surprised. "What's wrong? +What's th' reason for killin' cayuses?" + +"Wanted to paste somethin' up for others to shoot at," grinned Arch, +making the best of the situation. + +"How'd you come to leave ahead of Nelson?" demanded Arnold, his +easy-going boss. "Where is he? An' where's th' rest of th' boys?" The +SV owner was fast falling into the vernacular, which made him fit +better into the country. + +"Oh, he's tryin' to make a fortune buyin' up a herd of fine yearlin's," +answered the record-maker with confident assurance. "It ain't nothin' +to him that th' owner don't want to sell 'em. I near busted laughin' +at 'em wranglin'. They was near fightin' when I left. You should 'a' +heard 'em! Anybody'd think that man didn't own his own cattle. But +I'm bettin' on Nelson, just th' same, for when I left they had got to +wranglin' about th' price, an' that's allus a hopeful sign. He shore +will tire that man out. I used a lead hoss as far as Highbank, changin' +frequent', an' got a fresh off th' old man. Nelson told us all to go +home, where we're needed--but he'll be surprised when he knows how +quick _I_ got there. Sam an' th' others are with th' waggin, comin' +slower." + +"I should hope so!" snorted Arnold. "An' you ain't home yet. What's th' +real reason for all this speed, an' for headin' here instead of goin' +to th' ranch? A man that's born truthful makes a poor liar; but I'll +say this for you, Arch--with a little practice you'll be near as good +as Dave, here. Come on; tell it!" + +Arch looked wonderingly at his employer, grinned at Dave, and then +considered the two strangers. "I've done told it already," he affirmed, +stiffly. + +"Shake hands with Red Connors an' Hopalong Cassidy," said Arnold. +"You've heard of them, haven't you?" + +"Holy cats! I _have_!" exclaimed Arch, gripping the hands of the two +in turn. "I certainly have. Have you two ever been in Mesquite?" he +demanded, eagerly. "Good! Now, wait a minute; I want to think," and he +went into silent consultation with himself. + +"Mebby he's aimin' to improve on me," said Dave. "Judgin' from th' +studyin', I figger he's trying to bust in yore class, Arnold." + +Arch grinned from one to the other. "Seein' as how we're all friends of +Nelson, an' his wife ought to be kept calm, I reckon I ought to spit +it out straight. Here, you listen," and he told the truth as fully and +completely as he knew it. + +Arnold shook his head at the end of the recital. The loss of the herd +money was a hard blow, but he was too much of a man to make it his +chief concern. "Arch," he said slowly, "yo're so fond of breakin' +records that yo're goin' to sleep in town, get another horse at +daylight, an' break yore own record gettin' back to Mesquite. Tell that +son-in-law of mine to come home right away, before Peggy is left a +widow. It's no fault of his that he lost it--it's to his credit, goin' +to the aid of his men. I wouldn't 'a' had it to lose if it wasn't for +what he's done for th' SV. He earned it for me; an' if he's lost it, +all right." + +"Most generally th' East sends us purty poor specimens," observed Dave. +"Once in awhile we get a thoroughbred. Gunsight's proud of th' one it +got." + +"Arnold," said Arch eagerly, "I'll get to Mesquite tomorrow if it's +moved to th' other side of h--l!" + +Hopalong took the cigar from his mouth. "Wait a minute," he said. +He slowly knocked the ashes from it and looked around. "While I'm +appreciatin' what you just said, Arnold, I don't agree with it." +He thought for a moment and then continued. "You don't know that +son-in-law of yourn like I do. Somebody knocked him on th' head, stole +his money an' his guns. Don't forget th' guns. Bein' an easterner, +that mebby don't mean anythin' to you; but bein' an old Bar-20 man, it +means a heap to me. He won't leave till he's squared up, all around. +I _know_ it. Seein' how it is, we got to accept it; an' figger out +some way to make his wife take it easy, an' not do no worryin'. Here!" +he exclaimed, leaning forward. "Arnold, you sit down an' write him a +letter. Write it now. Tell him to stay down there until he gets a good +herd of yearlin's. Then Arch has got to start back in th' mornin' an' +join th' waggin, an' come home like he ought to. He stays here tonight, +an' nobody has seen him, at all." + +"An' Dave don't need to bother with any check," said Red. "Hoppy an' me +has plenty of money. We'll start for Mesquite at daylight, Arch, here, +ridin' with us till we meet th' waggin. Of course, Hoppy don't mean +that yo're really goin' to write a letter, Arnold," he explained. + +"That's just what I _do_ mean," said Hopalong. "He's goin' to write th' +letter, but he ain't goin' to send it. He'll give it to Arch, an' then +it can be torn up. What's th' use of lyin' when it's so easy to tell +th' truth? 'Though I'm admittin' I wasn't thinkin' of that so much as +I was that a man can allus tell th' truth better'n he can lie. When he +tells about th' letter, he's goin' to be talkin' about a real letter, +what won't get to changin' around in a day or two, or when he gets +rattled. Mrs. Johnny is mebby goin' to ask a lot of questions." + +"I'll give odds that she does," chuckled Dave, looking under the +backbar. "Here's pen an' ink," he said, pushing the articles across the +counter. "There's paper an' envelopes around here some--here it is. Go +ahead, now: 'Dear Johnny: I take my----'" + +"Shut up!" barked Arnold, glaring at him. "I guess I know how to write +a letter! Besides, I don't take my pen in hand. It's your pen, you +grinnin' chump! As long as we're ridin' on th' tail of Truth, let's +stick to it, all th' way. Shut up, now, an' gimme a chance!" He glared +around at the grinning faces, jabbed the pen in the ink, and went to +work. When he had finished, he read it aloud, and handed it to Arch, +who tore it up and threw the pieces on the floor. + +Hopalong reached down, picked up the pieces, and gravely, silently put +them on the bar. Dave raked them into his hand, dropped them into a tin +dish, and put a match to them. Arnold looked around the little group +and snorted. + +"Huh! You an' Dave must 'a' gone to th' same school!" + +Dave nodded. "We have, I reckon. Experience is a good school, too." + +"Th' lessons stick," said Hopalong, looking at Dave with a new interest. + +Arch chuckled. "Cuss it! I'll shore hate to stop at that waggin. I'm +sayin' Mesquite is goin' to be terrible upset some day soon. Why +_ain't_ I got whiskers? I'd like to see his face when he sets eyes on +you fellers. Bet he'll jump up an' down an' yell!" + +"Mebby," said Hopalong, "for if there's any yellin', he'll shore have +to start it. He sent you fellers away because you was known to be +friends of his, didn't he?" + +Dave slapped the bar and laughed outright. "If I wasn't so fat, I'd go +with you! I'm beginnin' to see why he thought so much of you fellers. +Here--it's time for a drink." + +"What are we goin' to tell Margaret?" asked Arnold. "She may get +suspicious if you leave so suddenly." + +"You just keep repeatin' that letter to yoreself," laughed Red, "an' +leave th' rest to better liars. Yo're as bad a liar as Arch, here. Me +an' Hoppy may 'a' been born truthful, but we was plumb spoiled in our +bringin' up. Reckon we better be leavin' now. Arch, where'll we meet +you about two hours after daylight tomorrow?" + +Arch groaned. "Shucks! About daylight it'll take Fanning that long to +get me out of bed--oh, well," he sighed, resignedly. "I'll be at th' +ford, waitin' for you to come along. Come easy, in case I'm asleep." + +"South of here, on this trail?" asked Red. "Thought so. All right. +So-long," and he followed his slightly limping friend out to the +horses. + +Dave hurried to the door. "Hey!" he shouted. "Hadn't I better send him +that check, anyhow? He may need it before you get there." + +A roar of laughter from behind answered him, and he wheeled to face +Arch. "When does th' mail leave?" asked the puncher. + +"Day after tomorrow," answered Dave, and swung around as a voice from +the street rubbed it in. + +"You must 'a' played hookey from that school, Dave," jeered Arnold. + +"He's fat clean to th' bald spot," shouted Arch. "Come on in, Dave. We +ain't got time to hold back for no mail to get there first." He stuck +his head out of the window. "So-long, fellers! See you at th' ford." + +Dave watched the three until they were well along the trail and then he +turned slowly. "I never did really doubt th' stories Nelson told about +that old outfit, but if I had any doubts I ain't got them no more. Did +you see th' looks in their eyes when you was tellin' about Nelson?" + +"I did!" snapped Arch. "Why in h--l ain't I got whiskers?" + +Reaching the SV, Arnold and his companions put up the horses and walked +slowly toward the house, seeing a flurry of white through the kitchen +door. + +"Think it'll reach him in time?" asked Red, waiting outside the door +for Arnold to enter first. + +"Ought to. Slim said he would mail it at Highbank as soon as he got +there," answered Arnold. + +"I shore hope so," said Red. "I'd hate to have that ride for nothin' +an' it would just be our luck to pass him somewhere on th' way, an' get +there after he left." + +"He'd likely foller th' reg'lar trail up, anyhow," said Hopalong. "It +ain't likely we'll miss him." + +Margaret put down the dish and looked at them accusingly. "What are you +boys talking about?" she demanded. + +"Only wonderin' if yore father's letter will get to Johnny in time to +catch him before he leaves," said Hopalong. "Dave says it will as long +as that Slim feller is takin' it to Highbank with him. Slim live down +there?" he asked his host. + +"No; goin' down for th' Double X, I suppose," replied Arnold. "Supper +ready, Peggy?" + +"Not until I learn more about this," retorted Margaret, determinedly. +"What letter are you talking about?" + +"Oh, I told Johnny to look around and see if he could pick up a good +herd of yearlings cheap," answered her father, going into the next room. + +Margaret compressed her lips, but said nothing about it, whereupon Red +silently swore a stronger oath of allegiance. "The table is waiting for +you. I've had to keep the supper warm," she said. + +Red nodded understandingly. "Men-folks are shore a trial an' +tribulation," he said, passing through the door. + +"Hadn't ought to take him very long, I suppose?" queried Arnold, +passing the meat one way and the potatoes the other. + +Red laughed. "You don't know him very well, yet," he replied. "Give him +a chance to dicker over a herd an' he's happy for a week or more. He +shore does like to dicker." + +"I never saw anything in his nature which would indicate anything like +that," said Margaret, tartly. "He always has impressed me with being +quite direct. Perhaps I did not understand you correctly?" + +"Peggy! Peggy!" reproved her father. "It means bread and butter for us." + +"I can eat my bread without butter," she retorted. "As a matter of fact +I've seen very little butter out in this country." + +Red screwed his face up a little and wriggled his foot. "I don't reckon +you've ever seen him buyin' a herd, ma'am?" + +"You are quite right, Mr. Connors. I never have." + +Red did not take the trouble to inform her that _he_ never had seen her +husband buy a herd. "I reckon it's his love for gamblin'," he said, +carelessly, and instantly regretted it. + +"Gambling?" snapped Margaret, her eyes sparking. "Did you say gambling?" + +Hopalong flashed one eloquent look at his friend, whose hair now was +not the only red thing about him, and removed the last of the peel from +the potato. "Red is referrin', I reckon, to th' love of gamblin' that +was born in yore husband, Margaret. It allus has been one of his, an' +our, fears that it would get th' best of him. But," he said, proudly +and firmly, "it never did. Johnny is gettin' past th' age, now, when a +deck of cards acts strong on him. An' it's all due to Red. He used to +whale him good every time he caught th' Kid playin'." + +Red's sanctimonious expression made Hopalong itch to smear the hot +potato over it, and the heel of his boot on Red's shin put a look of +sorrow on that person's face which was not in the least simulated. + +"We all had a hand in that, Margaret," generously remarked the man +with the shuddering shin. "Tex Ewalt watched him closest. But, as I +was sayin', out at th' corral, I don't believe he's got men enough to +handle no herd of yearlin's. Them youngsters are plumb skittish, an' +hard to keep on th' trail. Me an' Hoppy are aimin' to go down an' help +him--an' see him all th' sooner, to tell you th' truth." + +"That will please him," smiled Margaret. She looked at her father, +whose appetite seemed to be ravenous, judging by the attention he was +giving to the meal. "What did you write, Dad?" + +Arnold washed down a refractory mouthful of potato, which suffered +from insufficient salivation, and looked up. He repeated the letter +carelessly and reached for another swallow of coffee, silently thanking +Hopalong for insisting that the letter actually be written. + +The meal over they sat and chatted until after dark, Margaret doing +up a bundle of things which she thought her husband might need. When +morning came she had breakfast on the table at daylight for her +departing friends, and she also had a fat letter for her husband, +which she entrusted to Red, the sterling molder of her husband's manly +character. + +When they had ridden well beyond sight of the house Hopalong +thoughtfully dropped the bundle to the ground, turned in the saddle and +looked with scorn at his friend. "You shore are a hard-boiled jackass! +For two bits I'd 'a' choked you last night. How'd you like to have +somebody shoot off his mouth to yore wife about your gamblin'?" + +"I've reformed, an' she knows it!" + +"Yes, you've reformed! You've reformed a lot, you have!" + +"You ain't got no business pickin' on th' man that taught th' Kid most +all he knows about poker!" tartly retorted Red. + +"Cussed little you ever taught him," rejoined Hopalong. "It was me an' +Tex that eddicated his brain, an' fingers. He only used you to practice +on." + +And so they rode, both secretly pleased by this auspicious beginning of +a new day, for the day that started without a squabble usually ended +wrong, somehow. Picking up Arch, who yawningly met them at the ford, +they pushed southward at a hard pace, relying on the relay which their +guide promised to get at Highbank. Reaching this town Arch led them +to his father's little corral, and exulted over the four fresh horses +which he found there. Saddles were changed with celerity and they +rolled on southward again. + + * * * * * + +Peter Wiggins in the hotel office held the jack of hearts over the ten +of the same suit and cocked an ear to listen. Slowly making the play +he drew another card from the deck in his hand, and listened again. +Reluctant to bestir himself, but a little suspicious, he debated the +matter while he played several cards mechanically. Then he arose and +walked through the building, emerging from the kitchen door. Three +swiftly moving riders, his son in the middle, were taking the long, +gentle slope just south of town. Pete's laziness disappeared and he +made good time to the corral. One look was enough and he shook a +vengeful fist at his heir and pride. + +"Twice!" he roared, kicking an inoffensive tomato can over the corral +wall. "Twice! Mebby you'll try it again! All right; _I_'m willin'. I +never heard of anybody around here thraskin' a twenty-three-year-old +son, but as long as yo're bustin' records an' makin' th' Wigginses +famous, I ought to do _my_ share. Yo're bustin' ridin' records--I'm +aimin' to bust th' hidin' records, if you don't smash th' sprintin' +records, you grinnin' monkey!" + +Pete went into the hotel, soon returning with the cards and a box; and +for the rest of the morning played solitaire with the steadily rising +sun beating on his back, and swarms of flies exploring his perspiring +person. + +The three riders were going on, hour after hour, their speed entirely +controlled by what they knew of horseflesh, and when they espied the +wagon Arch suggested another change of mounts, which was instantly +overruled by Hopalong. + +"Some of them Mesquite hombres will be rememberin' them cayuses," he +said. "We're doin' good enough as we are." + +When they reached the wagon and drew rein to breathe their mounts, +Joe Reilly grinned a welcome. "Thought you was goin' to Gunsight!" he +jeered. + +Arch laughed triumphantly. "I've done been there, but got afraid you +fellers might get lost. Meet Hopalong Cassidy an' Red Conners, friends +of th' foreman." + +"Why'n h--l didn't you bring my hoss with you, you locoed cow?" blazed +Sam Gardner from the wagon seat. "You never got to Gunsight. You must +'a' hit a cushion an' bounced back." + +"Forgot all about yore piebald," retorted Arch. "But if you must have +a cayuse you can ask my old man for one when you get to Highbank. I'd +do it for you, only me an' him ain't on th' best of terms right now." +He turned to his two new friends. "All you got to do now is foller th' +wagon tracks to town." + +"So-long," said the two, and whirled away. + +They spent the night not many miles north of Big Creek and were riding +again at dawn. As they drew nearer to their objective the frisking wind +sent clouds of dust whirling around them to their discomfort. + +"That must be th' town," grunted Red through his kerchief as his eyes, +squinting between nearly closed lids, caught sight of Mesquite through +a momentary opening in the dust-filled air to the southeast. + +"Hope so," growled his companion. "Cussed glad of it. This is goin' to +be a whizzer. Look at th' tops of them sand hills yonder--streamin' +into th' air like smoke from a roarin' prairie fire. Here's where we +separate. I'm takin' to th' first shack I find. Don't forget our names, +an' that we're strangers, for awhile, anyhow." + +Red nodded. "Bill Long an' Red Thompson," he muttered as they parted. + +Not long thereafter Hopalong dismounted in the rear of Kane's and put +his horse in the nearer of the two stables, doing what he could for the +animal's comfort, and then stepped to the door. He paused, glanced back +at the "P. W." brand on the horse and smiled. "Red's is a Horseshoe +cayuse. That's what I call luck!" and plunged into the sand blasts. +Bumping into the wall of Kane's big building he followed it, turned the +corner, and groped his way through the front door. + +At the sudden gust the bartender looked around and growled. "Close that +door! _Pronto!_" + +The newcomer slammed it shut and leaned against the wall, rubbing at +his eyelids and face, and shed sand at every movement. + +The bartender slid a glass of water across the bar. "Here; wash it +out. You'll only make 'em worse, rubbin'," he said as the other began +rubbing his lips and spitting energetically. + +Bill Long obeyed, nodded his thanks and glanced furtively at the door, +and became less alert. "Much obliged. I didn't get all there was +flyin', but I got a-plenty." + +The dispenser of drinks smiled. "Lucky gettin' in out of it when you +did." + +"Yes," replied Bill, nervously. "Yes; plumb lucky. This will raise th' +devil with th' scenery." + +"Won't be a trail left," suggested the bartender, watching closely. + +Bill glanced up quickly, sighed with satisfaction and then glanced +hurriedly around the room. "Whose place is this?" he whispered out of +the corner of his mouth. + +"Pecos Kane's," grunted the bartender, greatly pleased about something. +His pleasure was increased by the quick look of relief which flashed +across the other's face, and he chuckled. "Yo're all right in here." + +"Yes," said Bill, and motioned toward a bottle. Gulping the drink +he paid for it and then leaned over the counter. "Say, friend," he +whispered anxiously, "if anybody comes around askin' for Bill Long, you +ain't seen him, savvy?" + +"Never even heard of th' gent," smiled the other. "Here's where you +should ought to lose yo're name," he suggested. + +Bill winked at him and slouched away to become mixed up in the crowd. +The checkerboard rear wall obtruded itself upon his vision and he went +back and found a seat not far from it and from Kit Thorpe, bodyguard of +the invisible proprietor, who sat against the door leading through the +partition. Thorpe coldly acknowledged the stranger's nod and continued +to keep keen watch over the crowd and the distant front door. + +The day was very dull, the sun's rays baffled by the swirling sand, and +the hanging kerosene lamps were lit, and as an occasional thundering +gust struck the building and created air disturbances inside of it +the lamps moved slightly to and fro and added a little more soot to +the coating on their chimneys. Bill's natural glance at the unusual +design of the rear wall caught something not usual about it and caused +an unusual activity to arise in his mind. He knew that his eyes were +sore and inflamed, but that did not entirely account for the persistent +illusion which they saw when his roving glance, occasionally returning +to the wall, swept quickly over it. There were several places where +the black was a little blacker, and these spots moved on their edges, +contracting and lengthening as the lamps swung gently. Pulling the brim +of his hat over his eyes, he faced away from the wall and closed his +burning eyelids, but his racing thoughts were keen to solve any riddle +which would help to pass the monotonous time. Another veiled glance as +he shifted to a more comfortable position gave him the explanation he +sought. Those few black squares had been cut out, and the moving strips +of black which had puzzled him were the shadows of the edges, moving +across a black board which, set back the thickness of the partition, +closed them. + +"Peekholes," he thought, and then wondered anew. Why the lower row, +then, so low that a man would have to kneel to look through the +openings? "Peekholes," persisted hide-bound Experience, grabbing at the +obvious. "Perhaps," doubted Suspicion; "but then, why that lower row?" +Suddenly his gunman's mind exulted. "Peekholes above, an' loopholes +below." A good gunman would not try to look through such small +openings, nearly closed by the barrel of a rifle. But why a rifle, for +a _good_ gunman? "He'd need all of a hole to look through, an' a _good_ +gunman likes a hip shot. That's it: Eyes to th' upper, six-gun at th' +lower, for a range too short to allow a miss." + +He stirred, blinked at the gambling crowd and closed his eyes again. +The sudden, gusty opening of the front door sent jets of soot spouting +from the lamp chimneys and bits of rubbish skittering across the floor; +and it also sent his hand to a gun-butt. He grunted as Red Thompson +entered, folded his arms anew and dozed again, as a cynical smile +flickered to Thorpe's face and quickly died. Bill shifted slightly. +"Any place as careful in thinkin' out things as _this_ place is will +stand a lot of lookin' over," he thought. "Th' Lord help anybody that +pulls a gun in this room. An' I'll bet a man like Kane has got more'n +loopholes. I'm shore goin' to like his place." + +Kit Thorpe had not missed the stranger's alert interest and motion +at the opening of the door, but for awhile he did not move. Finally, +however, he yawned, stretched, moved restlessly on his chair and +then noisily arose and disappeared behind the partition, closing the +checkered door after him. It was not his intention to sit so close to +anyone who gave signs which indicated that he might be engaged in a +shooting match at any moment. It would be better to keep watch from the +side, well out of the line of fire. + +Bill Long did not make the mistake of looking at the holes again, +but dozed fitfully, starting at each gust which was strong enough to +suggest the opening of the door. "I got to find th' way, an' that's +all there is to it," he muttered. "How am I goin' to be welcome around +here?" + + + + + CHAPTER V + + WHAT THE STORM HID + + +The squeaking of the door wakened Johnny and his gun swung toward the +sound as a familiar face emerged from the dusk of the hall and smiled a +little. + +"Reckon it ain't no shootin' matter," said the sheriff, slowly +entering. He walked over to a chair and sat down. "Just a little call +in th' line of duty," he explained. + +"Sorry there wasn't a bell hangin' on th' door, or a club, or +somethin'," replied Johnny ironically. "Then you could 'a' waited till +I asked you to come in." + +"That wouldn't 'a' been in th' line of duty," chuckled Corwin, his eyes +darting from one piece of wearing apparel to another. "I'm lookin' +around for th' fellers that robbed th' bank last night. Yore clothes +don't hardly look dusty enough, though. Where was you last night, up to +about one o'clock?" + +"Down in th' barroom, playin' cards. Why?" + +"That's what Ed says, too. That accounts for you durin' an' after th' +robbery. I've got to look around, anyhow, for them coyotes." + +"You'd show more sense if you was lookin' around for hoss tracks +instead of wastin' time in here," retorted Johnny, keeping his head +turned so the peace officer could not see what was left of the bump. + +"There ain't none," growled Corwin, arising. "She's still blowin' sand +a-plenty--a couple of shacks are buried to their chimneys. I'm tellin' +you this is th' worst sand storm that ever hit this town, but it looks +like it's easin' up now. There won't be a trail left, an' th' scenery +has shifted enough by this time to look like some place else. Idaho +turn in when you did?" + +"He did. Here he is now," replied Johnny, for the first time really +conscious of the sand blasts which rasped against the windows. + +Idaho peered around the door, nodded at Corwin and looked curious, and +suspicious. "If I ain't wanted, throw me out," he said, holding up +his trousers with one hand, the other held behind his back. "Hearin' +voices, I thought mebby somebody was openin' a private flask an', bein' +thirsty, I come over to help. My throat is shore dusty. An' would you +listen to that wind? It shore rocked this old hotel last night. Th' +floor of my room is near ankle deep in places." + +"Th' bank was robbed last night," blurted Corwin, watching keenly from +under his hat brim. "Whoever done it is still in town, unless he was a +d--d fool!" + +Idaho grunted his surprise. "That so? Gee, they shore couldn't 'a' +picked a better time," he declared. "Gosh, there's sand in my hair, +even!" + +Johnny rubbed his scalp, looked mildly surprised and slammed his +sombrero on his head. "It ain't polite," he grinned, "but I got enough +of it now." He sat up, crossed his legs under the sand-covered blankets +and faced his visitors. "Tell us about it, Sheriff," he suggested. + +"Wait till I get a belt," said Idaho, backing out of the door. When he +returned he carried the rest of his clothes and started getting into +them as the sheriff began his recital. + +"John Reddy, th' bank watchman, says he was a little careless last +night, which nobody can hardly blame him for. He sat in his chair +agin' the rear wall, th' whole place under his eyes, an' listened to +th' storm. To kill time he got to makin' bets with hisself about how +soon th' second crack in th' floor would be covered over, an' then th' +third, an' so on. 'Long about a little after twelve he says he hears +a moan at th' back door. He pulls his gun an' listens close, down +at th' crack just above th' sand drift. Then he hears it again, an' +a scratchin' an clawin'. There's only one thing he's thinkin' about +then--how he'd feel if he was th' poor devil out there, lost an' near +dead. I allus said a watchman should ought to have no feelin's, an' a +cussed strong imagination. John ain't fillin' th' bill either way. He +cleared away th' drift on his side of th' door an' opens it--an' beyond +rememberin' somethin' sandy jumpin' for him, that's all he knows till +he come to later on an' found hisself tied up, with a welt on th' head +that felt big as a doorknob." + +If the sheriff expected to detect any interchange of glances between +his auditors at his reference to the watchman's bump on the head he was +disappointed. Johnny was looking at him with a frank interest seconded +by that of Idaho, and neither did anything else during the short pause. + +"John got his senses back enough to know what had happened, an' one +glance around told him that he was right," continued Corwin. "Finally +he managed to get his legs loose enough to hobble, an' he butted out +into th' flyin' sand with his eyes shut an' his nose buried agin' his +shoulder so he could breathe; an' somehow he managed to hit a buildin' +in his blind driftin'. It was McNeil's, an' by throwin' his weight +agin' th' door an' buttin' it with his shoulders an' elbows, he woke up +Sam, who let him in, untied his arms an' th' rest of him, fixed him up +as well as he could in a hurry an' then left him there. Sam got Pete +Jennings, next door, sent Pete an' a scatter-gun to watch over what was +left in th' bank, an' then started out to find me. He had to give it up +till it got light, so he waited in th' bank with Pete. Th' bank fellers +are there now, checkin' up. Th' big, burglar-proof safe was blowed +open neat as a whistle--but they plumb ruined th' little one. They +overlooked th' biggest of all, down in th' cellar. Well," he sighed, +arising, "I got to go on with my callin'--an' it's one fine day to be +wanderin' all over town." + +"If I was sheriff I wouldn't have to do much wanderin'," said Idaho. +"But, anyhow, it can't last," he grinned. + +Johnny nodded endorsement. "Th' harder, th' shorter. It's gettin' +less all th' time," he said, pivoting and sitting on the edge of the +bed. "But, just th' same," he yawned, stretching ecstatically, "I'm +shore-e-e--g-l-a-d _I_ can stay indoors till she peters out. Yo're +plumb right, Corwin; them fellers never left town last night. An' if +I was you I'd be cussed suspicious of anybody that seemed anxious to +leave any time today." + +"They never did leave town last night," said Idaho, a strange glint +showing in his eyes. + +"An' nobody can leave today, neither," said Corwin. "If they try it +they will be stopped," he added, pointedly. "I've got a deputy coverin' +every way out, sand or no sand. So-long," and he tramped down the bare +stairs, grumbling at every step. + +Johnny removed his hat to put on his shirt, and then replaced it. "You +speakin' about sand in yore hair gave me what I needed," he grinned. + +"That's why I said it," laughed his companion. "I saw that yore neck +was stiff an' felt sorry for you. Now what th' devil do you think about +that bank?" + +"Kane," grunted Johnny, pouring sand from a boot. + +"That name must 'a' been cut on th' butt of th' gun that hit you," +chuckled Idaho. "It's been drove in solid. Get a rustle on; I'm hungry, +an' my teeth are full of sand. I'm anxious to hear what Ed knows." + +An unpleasant and gritty breakfast out of the way, they went in to +visit with the bartender and to while away a few hours at California +Jack. + +"Hello," grunted Ed. "Sheriff come pokin' his face in _yore_ room?" he +asked. + +"He did," answered Johnny; "an' he'll never know how close he come to +pokin' it into h--l." + +"My boot just missed him," regretted Ed. "He sung out right prompt when +he felt th' wind of it. D--d four-flush." + +"I'm among friends an' sympathizers," chuckled Idaho. "He says as how +he's goin' wanderin' around in th' sand blasts doin' his duty. Duty +nothin'! I'm bettin' he's settin' in Kane's, right now, takin' it easy." + +"Then he can't get much closer to 'em," snorted Ed. "He can near touch +th' men that did it." He paused as Johnny laughed in Idaho's face +and, shrugging his shoulders, turned and rearranged the glasses on the +backbar: "All right; laugh an' be d--d!" he snorted; "but would you +look at that shelf an' them glasses? Cuss any country that moves around +like that. I bet I got some of them Dry Arroyo sand hills in them +glasses!" + +"There was plenty in th' hash this mornin'," said Idaho; "but it didn't +taste like that Dry Arroyo sand. It wasn't salty enough. Gimme a taste +of that." + +"Just because you'll make a han'some corpse ain't no reason why you +should be in any hurry," retorted Ed. "Here!" he snorted, tossing +a pack of cards on the bar. "Go over an' begin th' wranglin' +agin--'though th' Lord knows I ain't got nothin' agin' Nelson." He +glanced out of the window. "Purty near blowed out. It'll be ca'm in +another half-hour; an' then you get to blazes out of here, an' stay out +till dark!" + +"I wish I had yore happy disposition," said Idaho. "I'd shore blow my +brains out." + +"There wouldn't be anythin' to clean up, anyhow!" retorted Ed. "Lord +help us, here comes Silent Lewis!" + +"Hello, fellers!" cried the newcomer. "Gee but it's been some storm. +Sand's all over everythin'. Hear about th' bank robbery?" + +"Bank robbery?" queried Ed, innocently. "What bank robbery? Sand bank?" +he asked, sarcastically. + +"Sand bank! Sand bank nothin'!" blurted Silent. "Ain't you heard it +yet? Why, I live ten miles out of town, an' I know all about it." + +"I believe every word you say," said Ed. "Tell us about it." + +"Gee, where have you-all been?" demanded Silent "Why, John Reddy, +settin' on his chair, watchin' th' safe, hears a moanin', so he opened +th' door----" + +"Of th' safe?" asked Idaho, curiously. + +"No, no; of th' bank. Th' bank door, th' rear one. He hears a moan----" + +"Which moan; first, or second?" queried Ed, anxiously. + +"Th' first--th' second didn't come till--hey, I thought you didn't hear +about it?" he accused. + +"I didn't; but you mentions two moans, separate an' distinct," defended +Ed. + +"You shore did," said Idaho, firmly. + +Johnny nodded emphatically. "Yessir; you shore did. Two moans, one at +each end." + +"But I didn't get to th' second moan at all!" + +"Now, what's th' use of tellin' us that?" flared the bartender. "Don't +you think we got ears?" + +"If you can't tell it right, shut up," said Idaho. + +"I can tell it right if you'll shut up!" retorted Silent. "As I said, +he hears a moan, so he leaves th' safe an' goes to th' door. Then he +hears a second moan, scratching', an'----" + +"Hey!" growled Ed indignantly. "What you talkin' about? Who in h--l +ever heard of a second moan scratchin'----" + +"It was th' first that scratched," corrected Idaho. "He said it plain. +You must be listenin' with yore feet." + +"If you'd gimme a chance to tell it--" began Silent, bridling. + +"Never mind my hearin' you," snapped Ed at Idaho. "I know what I +heard. An' lemme tell you, Silent, you can't cram nothin' like that +down my throat. Before you go any further, just explain to me how +a moan can scratch! I'm allus willin' to learn, but I want things +explained careful an' full." + +"He ain't quick-witted, like you an' me," said Johnny. "We understand +how a scratch moans, but he's too dumb. Go on an' tell th' ignoramus." + +"If yo're so cussed quick-witted, will you please tell me what'n blazes +you are talkin' about?" demanded Silent, truculently. "What do you mean +by a scratch moans?" + +"That's what I want to know," growled Idaho. "You can't scratch moans. +Cuss it, I reckon I ought to know, for I've tried to do it, more'n +once, too." + +"Yo're dumber than Nelson," jeered Ed. "It's all plain to me." + +"What is?" snapped Idaho. + +"Moanin' scratches, that's what!" + +"Of a safe?" asked Johnny. "Then why didn't you say so? How'd _I_ know +that you meant that. Go on, Silent." + +"You was at th' second moan," prompted Ed. + +"He scratched that," said Idaho. "He got as far as leavin' th' safe, +'though what he was doin' in there with it, I'd like to know. Reddy let +you in?" + +"Look here, Idaho," scowled Silent. "I wasn't in there at all. You'll +get me inter trouble, sayin' things like that. I was ten miles away +when it happened." + +"Then why didn't you say so, at th' beginnin'?" asked Ed. + +"Ah!" triumphantly exclaimed Johnny. "Then you tell us how you could +hear th' scratchin' an' moanin'; tell us that!" + +"That's all right, Nelson," said Idaho, soothingly. "He can hear more +things when he's ten miles away than any man you ever knowed. Go ahead, +Silent." + +"You go to h--l!" roared Silent, glaring. "You think yo're smart, don't +you, _all_ of you? I was goin' to tell you about th' robbery, but now +you can cussed well find it out for yoreselves! An' don't let me hear +about any of you sayin' I was in that bank last night, neither! D--d +fools!" and he stamped out, slamming the door behind him. "Blow an' be +d--d!" he growled at the storm. "I'd ruther eat sand than waste time +with them ijuts. 'Scratch moans!' Scratch _h--l_!" + +Silent's departure left a more cheerful atmosphere in the barroom. +The three men he had forsaken were grinning at each other, the petty +annoyances of the storm forgotten, and the next hour passed quickly. At +its expiration the wind had died down and the storm-bound town was free +again. Ed finished cleaning the bar and the glassware about the time +that his two friends had swept the last of the sand into the street and +cleared away a drift which blocked the rear door. They were taking a +congratulatory drink when Ridley, coming to town for the mail himself +because he would not ask any of his men to face the discomforts of that +ride, stamped in, and his face was like a thunder cloud. + +"Gimme a drink!" he demanded, and when he had had it he swung around +and glared at Idaho. "Lukins have any money in that bank? Yes? You +better be off to let him know about it. H--l of a note: Thirty +thousand stole! An' Jud Hill holdin' a gun on _me_ when I rode into +town, askin' fool questions! An' let me tell you somethin'--judgin' +from th' tools they forgot to take with 'em, it wasn't no amatachures +that did that job. Diamond drills an' cow-country crooks don't know +each other. An' that Jud Hill, a-stoppin' _me_!" + +"Mebby he won't let you leave town," suggested Idaho. "Corwin's given +orders like that." + +Ridley crashed his fist on the bar, and then to better express his +feelings he leaned over and stuck out his jaw. "Y-a-a-s? Then I'm +invitin' you-all to Hill's funeral, an' Corwin's, too, if he cuts in! +_Thirty thousand!_ Great land of cows!" + +"Corwin's out now, huntin' for 'em," said Ed. + +"Is he?" sneered Ridley. "Then he wants to find 'em! Th' firm of +Twitchell an' Carpenter owns near half of that bank--every dollar th' +Question-Mark has was in it. There's a change comin' to this part of +th' country!" and he stamped out, mounted his horse and whirled down +the trail. When he reached the sentry he rode so close to him that +their legs rubbed and Hill's horse began to give ground. + +"Do I go on?" snapped Ridley. + +Jud Hill nodded pleasantly. "Shore. Seein' as how you come in this +mornin' I reckon you do." + +Ridley urged his horse forward without replying, reached the +ranchhouse, wrote a letter which was a masterpiece of its kind and gave +it to one of his men to post in Larkinville, twenty miles to the south. +That done, all he could do was impatiently to await the reply. + +After Ridley had left, Johnny went out to look after Pepper, found her +all right, cleaned the sand out of the feed box and then went down to +look at the bank. Four men with rifles were posted around it and waved +him away. He could see several other men busy in the building, but +beyond that there was nothing to claim his attention. Joining the small +crowd of idlers across the street he listened to their conjectures, +which were entirely vague and colorless, and then wandered back to +look for Idaho in Quayle's. His friend was not to be seen and after +exchanging a few words with the jovial proprietor he went in to talk +with the bartender. + +"No wind now, but my throat's dry. Gimme a drink, half water," and +holding it untasted for the moment he jerked his head backward in the +direction of the bank. "Nothin' to see, except some fellers inside +lookin' for 'most anythin', an' four men with Winchesters on th' +outside." + +While he was speaking a man had entered and seated himself in the rear +of the room. Johnny glanced carelessly at him, and the glass cracked +sharply in his convulsive grip, the liquor squirting through his +fingers and gathering a deeper color as it passed. A thin trickle of +blood ran down his hand and wrist. + +Ed had started at the sound and his head was bent forward, his +unbelieving eyes staring at the dripping hand. + +Johnny opened it slowly, shook the fragments from it and let it fall to +his side, mechanically shaking off blood and liquor. "Cuss it, Ed," he +gently reproved, looking calmly into the bartender's questioning face, +"you should ought to pick out th' bad ones an' throw 'em away--yes, an' +bust 'em first." + +Ed picked up the bottom of the glass and critically examined it, +noting a discolored strip along one of the sharp edges, where dirt had +accumulated from numberless washings. The largest fragment showed the +greasy line to the rounded brim. "I usually do," he growled. "Thought I +had this one, too. Must 'a' got back somehow. Hurt bad?" + +"Nothin' fatal, I reckon," answered Johnny, drawing the injured member +up his trousers leg. "But I'm sayin' you owe me another drink; an' +leave th' water out, this time. Water in whisky never does bring good +luck, nohow." + +Ed smiled, pushing out bottle and glass. "We might say _that_ one was +on th' house--all that didn't get on you." He instinctively reached +for and used the bar cloth as he looked over at the stranger. "I can +promise you one that ain't cracked," he smiled. + +"I'll take mine straight," said Bill Long. "I don't want no more hard +luck." + +"Wonder where Idaho is?" asked Johnny. "Well, if he comes in, tell him +I'm exercisin' my cayuse. Reckon I'll go down an' chin with Ridley this +afternoon. Th' south trail is less sandy than th' north one." + +"An' give Corwin a chance to say things about you?" asked Ed, +significantly. "He'll be lookin' for a peg to hang things on." + +"Then mebby he won't never look for any more." + +"That may be true; but what's th' use?" + +"Reckon yo're right," reluctantly admitted Johnny. "Guess I'll go up to +Kane's an' see what's happenin'. If Idaho comes in, or any more of my +numerous friends," he grinned, "send 'em up there if they're askin' +for me. I'll mebby be glad to see 'em," and he sauntered out. + +Ed smiled pleasantly at the other customer. "Bad thing, a glass +breakin' like that," he remarked. + +Bill Long looked at him without interest. "Serves him right," he +grunted, "for holdin' it so tight. Nobody was aimin' to take it away +from him, was they?" + +Johnny entered Kane's too busy thinking to give much notice to the +room and the suppressed excitement occasioned by the robbery, and sat +down at a table. As he leaned back in the chair he caught sight of a +red-headed puncher talking to one of Kane's card-sharps and he got +another shock. "Holy maverick!" he muttered, and looked carelessly +around to see if any more of his Montana friends had dropped into town. +Then he smiled as the card-sharp looking up, beckoned to him. As he +passed down the room he noticed the quiet easterner hunched up in a +corner, his cap well down over his eyes, and Johnny wondered if the +man ever wore it any other way. He was out of place in his cow-town +surroundings--perhaps that was why he had not been seen outside of +Kane's building. Ridley's remark about the tools came to him and he +hesitated, considered, and then went on again. He had no reason to do +Corwin's work for him. Dropping into a vacant chair at the gambler's +table he grunted the customary greeting. + +"Howd'y," replied the card-sharp, nodding pleasantly. + +"No use bein' lonesome. Meet Red Thompson," he said, waving. + +"Glad to meet you," said Johnny, truthfully, but hiding as well as he +could the pleasure it gave him. "I once knowed a Thompson--short, fat +feller. Worked up on a mountain range in Colorado. Know him?" + +Red shook his head. "Th' world's full of Thompsons," he explained. "You +punchin'?" + +"Got a job on th' SV, couple of days' ride north of here. Just come +down with a little beef herd for Twitchell an' Carpenter. Ain't seen no +good bunch of yearlin's that can be got cheap, have you?" + +Red shook his head: "No, I ain't." + +The gambler laughed and poked a lean thumb at the SV puncher. "Modest +feller, _he_ is," he said. "He's foreman, up there." + +Red's mild interest grew a little. "That so? I passed yore ranch comin' +down. Need another man?" + +The SV foreman shook his head. "I could do with one less. Them bank +fellers picked a good time for it, didn't they?" + +"They shore did," agreed the gambler. "Couldn't 'a' picked a better. +Kane loses a lot by that, I reckon. Well, what do you gents say to a +little game? Small enough not to cause no calamities; large enough to +be interestin'? Nothin' else to do that I can see." + +Red nodded and, the limit soon agreed upon, the game began. As the +second hand was being dealt Bill Long wandered in, talked for a few +moments with the bartender and then went over to a chair. Tipping it +back against the wall he pulled down his hat brim, let his chin sink on +his chest and prepared to enjoy a nap. Naturally a man wishing to doze +would choose the darkest corner, and if he was not successful who could +tell that the narrow slit between his lids let his keen eyes watch +everything worth seeing? His attention was centered mostly on the +tenderfoot stranger with the low-pulled cap and the cut-out squares in +the great checkerboard partition at the rear of the room. + +The poker game was largely a skirmish, a preliminary feeling out for +a game which was among the strong probabilities of the future. Johnny +and the gambler were about even with each other at the breaking up of +the play, but Red Thompson had lost four really worth-while jack pots +to the pleasant SV foreman. As they roughly pushed back their chairs +Bill Long stirred, opened his eyes, blinked around, frowned slightly +at being disturbed and settled back again. "Red couldn't 'a' got that +money to him in no better way," he thought, contentedly. + +The three players separated, Johnny going to the hotel, Red seeking a +chair by the wall and the gambler loafing at the bar. + +"An' how'd you find 'em?" softly asked the wise bartender. "Goin' after +that foreman's roll?" + +The gambler grunted and shifted his weight to the other leg. "Thompson +ain't very much; but I dunno about th' other feller. Sometimes I think +one thing; sometimes, another. Either he's cussed innocent, or too +slick for me to figger. Reckon mebby Fisher ought to go agin' him, an' +find out, for shore." + +"How'd you make out, last night, with Long?" + +"There's a man th' boss ought to grab," replied the gambler. "He didn't +win much from me--but it's his first, an' last, chance with me. I don't +play him no more. I'd like to see him an' Fisher go at it, with no +limit. Fisher would have th' best of it on th' money end, havin' th' +house behind him in case he had to weather a run of hard luck; but +mebby he'd need it." + +As the gambler walked away the easterner arose, slouched to the bar and +held a short whispered conversation with the man behind it. + +The bartender frowned. "You can't get away before night. Sandy Woods +will take care of you before mornin', I reckon. Go upstairs an' quit +fussin'. Yo're safe as h--l!" + +The bartender's prophecy came true after dark, when Sandy Woods and +the anxious stranger quietly left town together; but the stranger had +good reason to be anxious, for at dawn he was careless for a moment and +found himself looking into his escort's gun. He had more courage than +good sense and refused to be robbed, and he died for it. Sandy dragged +the body into a clump of bushes away from the trail and then rode on +to kill the necessary time, leading the other's horse. He was five +thousand dollars richer, and had proved wrong the old adage about honor +among thieves. + + + + + CHAPTER VI + + THE WRITING ON THE WALL + + +When the senior member of the firm of Twitchell and Carpenter read +Ridley's letter things began to happen. It was the last straw, for +besides being half-owners in the bank the firm had for several years +been annoyed by depredations committed by Mesquite citizens on its +herds. The depredations had ceased upon payment of "campaign funds" +to the Mesquite political ring, but the blackmail levy had galled the +senior member, who was not as prone as Carpenter was to buy peace. +Orders flew from the firm's office and the little printing-plant at +Sandy Bend broke all its hazy precedents, with the result that a +hard-riding courier, relaying twice, carried the work of the job-print +toward Mesquite. Reaching Ridley's domain he turned the package over to +the local superintendent, who joyously mounted and carried it to town. + +Tim Quayle welcomed his old friend, listened intently to what Ridley +had to say and handed over an assortment of tacks and nails, and a +chipped hammer. "'Tis time, Tom," he said, simply. + +Ridley went out and selected a spot on the hotel wall, and the sound of +the hammer and the sight of his unusual occupation caused a small crowd +of curious idlers to gather around him. When the poster was unrolled +there were sibilant whispers, soft curses, frank prophesies, and some +commendations, which was entirely a matter of the personal viewpoint. +Half an hour later, the last poster placed, Ridley took a short cut, +entered the hotel through the kitchen and went into the barroom. What +he had published for the enlightenment, edification, or disapprobation +of his fellow-citizens was pointed and business-like, and read as +follows: + + =$2,500.00 REWARD!= + + For Information Leading to the Capture + and Conviction of the Men Who Robbed + the Mesquite Bank. + + =STRICTLY CONFIDENTIAL= + + TWITCHELL & CARPENTER + + Sandy Bend TOM RIDLEY, Local Supt. + +Quayle turned and smiled at the T & C man. "Ye've slapped their faces, +Tom. Mind yore eye!" + +"They've prodded th' old mosshead once too often," growled Ridley, +looking around at Johnny, Idaho, and the others. "I reckon this stops +th' blackmail to th' gang. When I wrote my letter I expected somethin' +would happen, an' th' letter I got in return near curled my hair. +Twitchell's fightin' mad." + +"Th' reward's too big," criticized Idaho. + +"I'm fearin' it ain't big enough," said Ed Doane, shaking his head. + +Ridley laughed contentedly. "It's more than enough. There's men in +this town, an' that gang, who would knife anybody for half of that. +When they can get twenty-five hundred by simply openin' their mouths, +without bein' known, they'll do it. Loyalty is fine to listen about, +but there's few men in th' gang we're after that have any twenty-five +hundred dollars' worth. This is th' beginnin' of th' end. Mark my +words." + +"A lot depends on how many were in on it," suggested Johnny, "an' how +many of th' others know about it." + +"He's throwin' money away," doggedly persisted Idaho. "A thousand would +buy any of 'em, that an' secrecy." + +"He ain't throwin' it away," retorted Ridley, "considerin' his letter. +He's after results, amazin' results, an' he shore knows how to get 'em. +It'll be sort of more pleasant if th' gang is sold out. He figgers a +reward like that will save time an' be self-actin', for my orders are +to stay in th' ranchhouse an' wait. That's what I'm goin' to do, too; +an' I'll be settin' there with all guns loaded. No tellin' what'll +happen now an', not bein' able to say how soon it will happen, I'm +leavin' you boys. So-long." + +He walked out to his horse and mounted. As he settled into the saddle +there was a flat report, his hat flew from his head and he toppled from +the horse, dead before he struck the ground. + +Quayle swiftly reached over the desk and took a Winchester from its +pegs, Irish tears in his eyes; and waited hopefully, Irish rage in his +heart, watching the dirty windows and the open door. "It's to a finish, +byes," he grated in a brogue thickened by his emotions, the veins of +his forehead and neck swelling into serpentine ridges. "They read th' +writin' on th' wall, an' they read ut plain. D'ye mind what some of +thim divils would be after doin' for all that money? They'd cut their +own mither's throat--an' Kane knows ut! An' I'm thinkin' they'll be +careful now--Kane has served his notice." + +The idlers in the street stood as if frozen, gaping, not one of them +daring to approach the body, nor even to stop the horse as it kicked +up its heels and trotted down the street. Ed Doane was the third man +through the door and he brought in the dead man's hat as Johnny and +Idaho placed the warm body on the floor of the office. They hardly had +stepped back when hurried footsteps neared the door and the sheriff, +with two of his deputies, entered the office, paused instinctively at +sight of the rifle in Quayle's hands, and then slowly, carefully bent +over to examine the body. The sheriff reached forth a hand to turn it +over, but stopped instantly and froze in his stooped position, his arm +outstretched. + +"Kape ut off him!" roared Quayle, his eyes blazing. "What more d'ye +want to see?" + +"From behind?" asked Corwin, slowly straightening up, but his eyes +fixed on the proprietor. + +"An' where'd ye be thinkin' 'twas from?" snarled Quayle, the veins +standing out anew. "No dirty pup of that pack would dare try ut from +th' front, an' ye know ut! An' need ye look twice to see where th' slug +av a buffalo-gun came out? Don't touch him, anny av ye! Kape yore paws +off Tom Ridley! An' _I_'m buryin' him, mesilf." + +"But, as sheriff--" began Corwin. + +"Aye, _but_!" snapped Quayle. "We'll be after callin' things be +their right names. Ye are no sheriff. Ye was choosed by th' majority +av votes cast by th' citizens av an unorganized county, like byes +choose a captain av their gangs. There's no laws to back ye up, an' +ye took no oath. As long as th' majority will it, yore th' keeper +av th' peace--an' no longer. Sheriff?" he sneered. "An' 'tis a fine +sheriff ye'll be makin', runnin' in circles like a locoed cow since th' +robbery, questionin' every innocent man in town, an' hopin' 'twould +blow over, an' die a natural death. But it's got th' breath av life in +it now! What do ye think old Twitchell will be sayin' to _this_?" he +thundered, his rigid arm pointing to the body on the floor. "Clear out, +th' pack av ye! Ye've seen all ye need to!" + +Corwin glanced at the body again, from it around the ring of set and +angry faces, shrugged his shoulders and motioned to his deputies to +leave. "We'll hold th' inquest here," he said, turning away. + +"Ye'll hold no inquest!" roared Quayle. "Show me yore coroner! Inquest, +is ut? I've held yore inquest already. There's plenty av us here +an' we say, so help us God, Tom Ridley was murdered, an' by persons +unknown. There's yer inquest, an' yer findin's. What do ye say, byes?" +he demanded. A low growl replied to him and he sneered again. "There! +There's yer inquest! As long as yer playin' sheriff, go out an' do yer +duty; but look out ye don't put yer han's on a friend! Clear out, an' +run yer bluff!" + +Corwin's eyes glinted as he looked at the fearless speaker, but with +Idaho straining at a moral leash, Johnny's intent eagerness and the +sight of the rifle in the proprietor's hands, he let discretion mold +his course and slouched out to the street, where another quiet crowd +opened silently to let him through. + +Johnny passed close to Idaho. "Go to your ranch for a few days, or +they'll couple you to me!" he whispered. + + * * * * * + +Bill Long, feeding his borrowed Highbank horse in the northernmost of +the two stables at the rear of Kane's, heard the jarring crash of a +heavy rifle so loud and near that he dropped instantly to hands and +knees and crawled to a crack in the south wall. As he peered out he +got a good, clear view of a pock-marked Mexican with a crescent-shaped +scar over one eye and who, Sharp's in hand, wriggled out of the north +window of the adjoining stable, dropped sprawling within five feet of +the watcher's eyes, scrambled to his feet and fled close along the +rear of Bill's stable. The watcher sprang erect, sped silently back +to his horse and stirred the grain in the feed box with one hand, +while the other rested on a six-gun in case the Mexican should be of +an inquisitive and belligerent frame of mind. His view of the street +had been shut off by the corner of the southern stable and he had not +seen the result of the shot. Wishing to show no undue curiosity he did +not go down the street, but returned to the gambling-hall. He had not +been seated more than a few minutes when one of Kane's retainers ran +in from the street with the news of Ridley's death. There was a flurry +of excitement, which quickly died down, but under the rippling surface +Bill sensed the deeper, more powerful currents. + +"This man Kane, whoever an' wherever he is," he thought, "has shore +trained this bunch of scourin's. I'm gettin' plumb curious for a look +at him. Huh!" he muttered, as the window-wriggling, pock-marked +Mexican emerged from behind the partition, bent swiftly over Kit Thorpe +and betook his tense and nervous self to the roulette table. "I've got +yore ugly face carved deep in my mem'ry, you Greaser snake!" he growled +under his breath. "If it wasn't for loosin' bigger game I'd turn you +over to Ridley's friends before night. You can wait." + +Not long after the appearance of the Mexican, the sheriff came in +by the front door, pushed through the crowd near the bar and walked +swiftly toward the rear of the room. Speaking shortly to Kit Thorpe in +a low voice he passed through the door of the checkerboard partition. + +"I'm learnin'," muttered Bill. "I don't know who Kane is, but I'm dead +shore I know _where_ he is. An' I'm gettin' a better line on this +killin'. I'll shore have to get a look behind that door, somehow." + +Suddenly the doorkeeper arose and stuck his head around behind the +partition and then, straightening up, closed the door, went up to the +bar, spoke to several men there and led them to the rear. Opening the +door again he let them through and resumed his vigil; and none of them +reappeared before Bill went into the north building to eat his supper. + + + + + CHAPTER VII + + THE THIRD MAN + + +Kane's gambling-hall was in full blast, reeking with the composite +odor of liquor, kerosene lamps, rank tobacco, and human bodies, the +tables well filled, the faro and roulette layouts crowded by eager +devotees. The tenseness of the afternoon was forgotten and curses +and laughter arose in all parts of the big room. The two-man Mexican +orchestra strumming its guitars and the extra bartenders were earning +their pay. Punchers, gamblers, storekeepers, two traveling men, a squad +of cavalrymen on leave from the nearest post, Mexicans, and bums of +several races made up the noisy crowd as Johnny Nelson pushed into the +room and nodded to the head bartender. + +"Well, well," smiled the busy barman without stopping his work. "Here's +our SV foreman, out at night. Thought mebby you'd heard of some +yearlin's an' hit th' trail after 'em." + +"I don't reckon there was ever a yearlin' in this section," grinned +Johnny. + +"That so? There's several down at th' other end of th' bar," chuckled +the man of liquor. "That blonde you left th' forty dollars for has +shore been strainin' her eyes lookin' for you. Says she knows she's +goin' to like you. Go back an' sooth her. Gin is her favorite." + +"I ain't lookin' for her yet," replied Johnny. "That's somethin' you +never want to do. It's th' wrong system. Don't pay no attention to 'em +if you want 'em to pay attention to you. Let her wait a little longer. +Where's that Thompson feller? I like th' way he plays draw, seein' as +how I won some of his money. Seen him tonight?" + +"Shore; he's around somewhere. Saw him a little while ago." + +Johnny noticed a quiet, interested crowd in a far corner and joined it, +working through until he saw two men playing poker in the middle. One +was Bill Long and the other was Kane's best card-sharp, Mr. Fisher, and +they were playing so intently as to be nearly oblivious of the crowd. +On the other side of the ring, sitting on a table, was Red Thompson, +his mouth partly open and his eyes riveted on the game. + +The play was getting stiff and Fisher's eyes had a look in them that +Johnny did not like. The gambler reached for the cards and began +shuffling them with a speed and dexterity which bespoke weary hours of +earnest practice. As he pushed them out for the cut his opponent leaned +back, relaxed and smiled pleasantly. + +"I allus like to play th' other fellow's game," Bill observed. "If he +plays fast _I_ like to play fast; if he plays 'em close, _I_ like to +play 'em close; if he plays reckless, _I_ like to play reckless; if he +plays 'em with flourishes, _I_ like to play 'em with flourishes. I'm +not what you might call original. I'm a imitator." He slowly reached +out his hand, held it poised over the deck, changed his mind and +withdrew it. "Reckon I'll not cut this time. They're good as they are. +I like yore dealin'." + +Fisher yanked the deck to him and dealt swiftly. "I'm not very bright," +he remarked as he glanced at his hand, "so I'm gropin' about yore +meanin'. Or didn't it have none?" + +"Nothin', only to show that I'm so polite I allus let th' other feller +set th' pace," smiled Bill. "As he plays, I play." He picked up the +cards, squared them into exact alignment and slid them from the table +and close against his vest, where a deft touch spread them for a quick +glance at the pips. "They look good; but, I wonder?" he muttered. +"Reckon that's best, after all. Gimme two cards when you get time." + +Fisher gave him two and took the same number. + +"I find I'm gettin' tired," growled Bill, "an' it shore is hot an' +stiflin' in here. As it stands I'm a little ahead--not more'n fifty +dollars. That bein' so, I quit after this hand and two more. There +ain't much action, anyhow." + +"If yo're lookin' for action mebby you feel like takin' off th' +hobbles," suggested Fisher, carelessly. + +"Hobbles, saddles an' anythin' else you can think of," nodded Bill. "Do +we start now?" + +Fisher nodded, saw the modest bet and doubled it. + +Bill tossed his four queens and the ace of hearts face down in the +discard and smiled. "Didn't get what I was lookin' for," he grinned +into the set face across from him. "Got to have 'em before I can play +'em." + +Fisher hid his surprise and carelessly tossed his four kings and the +six of diamonds, also face down, into the discard, fumbled the deck +as he went to pass it over and spilled it on top of the cards on the +table. Cursing at his clumsiness, he scrambled the cards together and +pushed them toward his opponent. "My fingers must be gettin' all +thumbs," he growled as he raked in the money. What had happened? Had he +bungled the deal, or wasn't four queens big enough for the talkative +fool across from him? + +Bill smilingly agreed. "They do get that way at times," he remarked, +shuffling with a swift flourish which made Johnny hide a smile. He +pushed the pack out, Fisher cut it, and the flying cards dropped +swiftly into two neat piles almost flush on their edges, which seemed +to merit a murmur of appreciation from the crowd. Johnny shifted his +weight to the other leg and prepared to enjoy the game. + +Fisher glanced at his hand and became instant prey to a turmoil of +thoughts. Four queens, with an eight of clubs! He looked across at the +calm, reflective dealer who was rubbing the disgraceful stubble on his +chin while he drew two cards partly from his hand and considered them +seriously. He seemed to be perplexed. + +"I been playin' this game for more years than I feel like tellin'," +Bill grumbled, whimsically; "but I ain't never been able really to +decide one little thing." Becoming conscious that he might be delaying +the game he looked up suddenly. "Have patience, friend. _Oh_, then it's +all right! You ain't discarded yet," he finished cheerfully. Throwing +away the two cards he waited. + +"Gimme one," grunted Fisher, discarding, "an' I'm sayin' fifty +dollars," he continued, shoving the money out without glancing at the +card on the table. "How many you takin'?" he asked. + +"Two," answered Bill, looking at him keenly. He glanced down at the +single back showing on the table before him and grinned. "Th' other's +under it," he explained needlessly. "Well, I'm still an imitator," he +chuckled. "Here's yore fifty, and fifty more. I'm sorry I ain't playin' +in my own town, so I could borrow when it all gets up." + +Whatever Fisher's thoughts were he hid them well, and he was not to +be the first one to weaken and look at the draw. He had a reputation +to maintain, and he saw the raise and returned it. Bill pushed out a +hundred dollars and Fisher came back, but his tenseness was growing. + +Bill considered, looked down at his unknown draw, shook his head and +picked up one card. "I'm feelin' the strain," he growled, seeing the +raise and repeating it. He glanced up at the crowd, which had grown +considerably, and smiled grimly. + +Fisher evened up and raised again, watching his worried opponent, who +scowled, sucked his lips, shook his head and then, with swift decision, +picked up the other card. "I can't afford to quit now," he muttered. +"Here goes for another boost!" + +His opponent having wilted first and saved the gambler's face, Fisher +picked up his own draw and when he saw it he stiffened, his thoughts +racing again. It was no coincidence, he decided. In all of his +experience he had known but two men who could do that, and here was +a third! But still there was a hope that there was no third, that it +was a coincidence. And there was quite a sum of money on the table. +The doubt must be removed and the truth known, and another fifty, sent +after its brothers was not too big a price to pay for such knowledge. +He pushed the money out onto the table. "I calls," he grunted. + +Bill dropped his little block of cards and spread them with a sweep of +one hand, while the other was ready to make the baffling draw which +had made him famous in other parts of the country. Fisher glanced at +the four kings and nodded, all doubts laid to rest--the third man sat +across from him. + +He slowly pushed back as the crowd, not knowing just what to expect, +scattered. "I'm tired. Shall we call it off for tonight?" he asked. + +Without relaxing Bill nodded. "Suits me. I'm tired, too; an' near +suffocated. See you tomorrow?" + +Fisher grunted something as he arose and, turning abruptly, pushed +through the thinning crowd to get a bracer at the bar, while the winner +slowly hauled in the money. Gulping down the fiery liquor the gambler +wheeled to go into the dark and deserted dining-room where he could sit +in quiet and go over the problem again, and looked up to see the other +gambler in his way. + +"What did you find out?" asked the other in a low voice. + +"I found th' devil has come up out of h--l!" growled Fisher. "Come +along an' I'll tell you about it. He's th' third man! Old Parson Davies +was th' first, but he's dead; Tex Ewalt was th' second, an' I ain't +seen him in years--cuss it! I wondered why this man's play seemed +familiar! He's got some of Tex's tricks of handlin' th' cards." + +"Shore he ain't Tex?" + +"As shore as I am that you ain't," retorted Fisher; "but I'm willin' to +bet he knows Tex. Come on--let's get out of this hullabaloo. He's got a +nerve, pickin' _my_ cards, an' dealin' 'em alternate off th' top an' +bottom, with _me_ watchin' him!" + +"We got to figger how to get it back," thoughtfully muttered the other, +following closely. "Everythin's goin' wrong. They went after Nelson an' +got somebody else; they stirred up th' T & C by robbin' th' bank, an' +then had to go an' make it worse by gettin' Ridley! I'm admittin' I'm +walkin' soft, an' ready to jump th' country right quick." + +Fisher sank into a chair in the dining-room. "An' if Long hangs around +here much longer Kane'll ditch me like a wore-out boot. A couple more +losses like tonight an' he'll plumb forget my winnin's for th' past two +years. An' me gettin' all cocked to strike him for a bigger percentage!" + +Out in the reeking gambling-hall Bill put his empty glass on the bar +and slid a gold piece at the smiling head man behind the counter. +"Spend th' change on th' ladies in th' corner," he said. "It allus +gives me luck; an' I had such luck tonight that I ain't aimin' to take +no chances losin' it. Reckon I'll horn in on th' faro layout," and he +did, where he managed to lose a part of his poker winnings before he +turned in for the night. + +Up late the next morning he hastened into the dining-room to beat +the closing of the doors and saw the head bartender eating a lonely +breakfast. The dispenser of liquors beckoned and pushed back a chair at +his table. + +Bill accepted the invitation and gave his order. "Well," he remarked, +"yo're lookin' purty bright this mornin'." + +"I'm gettin' so I don't need much sleep, I reckon," replied the +bartender. "Did yore folks use a poker deck to cut yore teeth on?" + +Bill laughed heartily. "My luck turned, an' Fisher happened to be th' +one that got in th' way." + +"He says you play a lot like a feller he used to know." + +"That so? Who was he?" + +"Tex Ewalt." + +"Well, I ought to, for me an' Tex played a lot together, some years +back. Wonder what ever happened to Tex? He ain't been down this way +lately, has he?" + +"No. I never saw him. Fisher knew him. He says Tex was th' greatest +poker player that ever lived." + +"I reckon he's right," replied Bill. "I'm plumb grateful to Tex. It +ain't his fault that I don't play a better game. But I got an idea +playin' like his has got to be born in a man." He ate silently for a +moment. "Now that I'm spotted I reckon my poker playin' is over in +here. Oh, well, I ain't complainin'. I can eat an' sleep here, an' find +enough around town to keep me goin' for a little while, anyhow. Then +I'll drift." + +"Unless, mebby, you play for th' house," suggested the bartender. "What +kind of a game does that SV foreman play?" + +"I never like to size a man up till I play with him," answered Bill. +"I was sort of savin' him for myself, for he's got a fat roll. Now I +reckon I'll have to let somebody else do th' brandin'." He sighed and +went on with his breakfast. + +"Get him into a little game an' see how good he is," suggested the +other, arising. "Goin' to leave you now." He turned away and then +stopped suddenly, facing around again. "Huh! I near forgot. Th' boss +wants to see you." + +"Who? Kane? What about?" + +"He'll tell you that, I reckon." + +"All right. Tell him I'm in here." + +The other grinned. "I said th' _boss_ wants to see _you_." + +"Shore; I heard you." + +"People he wants to see go to him." + +"Oh, all right; why didn't you say so first off? Where is he?" + +"Thorpe will show you th' way. Whatever th' boss says, don't you go on +th' prod. If yore feelin's get hurt, don't relieve 'em till you get out +of his sight." + +"I've played poker too long to act sudden," grinned Bill, easily. + +His breakfast over, he sauntered into the gambling-room and stopped in +front of Kit Thorpe, whose welcoming grin was quite a change from his +attitude of the day before. "I've been told Kane wants to see me. Here +I am." + +Thorpe opened the door, followed his companion through it and paused to +close and bolt it, after which he kept close to the other's heels and +gave terse, grunted directions. "Straight ahead--to th' left--to th' +right--straight ahead. Don't make no false moves after you open that +door. Go ahead--push it open." + +Bill obeyed and found himself in an oblong room which ran up to the +opaque glass of a skylight fifteen feet above the floor, and five feet +below the second skylight on the roof, in both of which the small panes +were set in heavy metal bars. The room was cool and well ventilated. +Before him, seated at the far side of a flat-topped, walnut desk of +ancient vintage sat a tall, lean, white-haired man of indeterminate +age, who leaned slightly forward and whose hands were not in sight. + +"Sit down," said Kane, in a voice of singular sweetness and penetrating +timbre. For several minutes he looked at his visitor as a buyer might +look at a horse, silent, thoughtful, his deeply-lined face devoid of +any change in its austere expression. + +"Why did you come here?" he suddenly snapped. + +"To get out of th' storm," answered Bill. + +"Why else?" + +Bill looked around, up at the graven Thorpe and back again at his +inquisitor, and shrugged his shoulders. "Mebby you can tell me," he +answered before he remembered to be less independent. + +"I think I can. Anyone who plays poker as well as you do has a very +good reason for visiting strange towns. What is your name?" + +"Bill Long." + +"I know that. I asked, what is your name?" + +Bill looked around again and then sat up stiffly. "That ain't +interestin' us." + +"Where are you from?" + +Bill shrugged his shoulders and remained silent. + +"You are not very talkative today. How did you get that Highbank horse?" + +Bill acted a little surprised and anxious. "I--I don't know," he +answered foolishly. + +"Very well. When you make up your mind to answer my questions I +have a proposition to offer you which you may find to be mutually +advantageous. In the meanwhile, do not play poker in this house. That's +all." + +Thorpe coughed and opened the door, and swiftly placed a hand on the +shoulder of the visitor. "Time to go," he said. + +Bill hesitated and then slowly turned and led the way, saying nothing +until he was back in the gambling-hall and Thorpe again kept his +faithful vigil over the checkered door. + +"Cuss it," snorted Bill, remembering that in the part he was playing +he had determined to be loquacious. "If I told him all he wanted to +know I'd be puttin' a rope around my neck an' givin' him th' loose end! +So he's got a proposition to make, has he? Th' devil with him an' his +propositions. I don't have to play poker in his place--there's plenty +of it bein' played outside this buildin', I reckon. For two-bits I'd +'a' busted his neck then an' there!" + +"You'd 'a' been spattered all over th' room if you'd made a play," +replied Thorpe, a little contempt in his voice for such boasting words +from a man who had acted far from them when in the presence of Kane. He +had this stranger's measure. "An' you mind what he said about playin' +in here, or I'll make you climb up th' wall, you'll be that eager to +get out. You think over what he said, an' drift along. I'm busy." + +Bill, his frown hiding inner smiles, slowly turned and walked defiantly +away, his swagger increasing with the distance covered; and when +he reached the street he was exhaling dignity, and chuckled with +satisfaction--he had seen behind the partition and met Kane. He passed +the bank, once more normal, except for the armed guards, and bumped +into Fisher, who frowned at him and kept on going. + +"Hey!" called Bill. "I want to ask you somethin'." + +Fisher stopped and turned. "Well?" he growled, truculently. + +Bill went up close to him. "Just saw Kane. He says he has got somethin' +to offer me. What is it?" + +"My job, I reckon!" snapped the gambler. + +"Yore job?" exclaimed his companion. "I don't want yore job. If I'd 'a' +knowed that was it I'd 'a' told him so, flat. I'm playin' for myself. +An' say: He orders me not to play no more poker in his place. Wouldn't +that gall you?" + +"Then I wouldn't do it," said the gambler, taking his arm. "Come in an' +have a drink. What else did he say?" + +Bill told him and wound up with a curse. "An' that Thorpe said he'd +make me climb up th' wall! Wonder who he thinks he is--Bill Hickok?" + +Fisher laughed. "Oh, he don't mean nothin'. He's a lookin'-glass. +When Kane laughs, _he_ laughs; when Kane has a sore toe, _he's_ plumb +crippled. But, just th' same I'm tellin' you Thorpe's a bad man with a +gun. Don't rile him too much. Say, was you ever paired up with Ewalt?" + +Bill put down his glass with deliberate slowness. "Look here!" he +growled. "I'm plumb tired of answerin' personal questions. Not meanin' +to hurt yore feelin's none, I'm sayin' it's my own cussed business what +my name is, where I come from, who my aunt was, an' how old I was when +I was born. I never saw such an' old-woman's town!" + +Fisher laughed and slapped his shoulder. "Keep all four feet on th' +ground, Long; but it _is_ funny, now ain't it?" + +Bill grinned sheepishly. "Mebby--but for a little while I couldn't +see it that way. Have one with me, after which I'm goin' up an' skin +that SV man before you can get a crack at him. He's fair lopsided with +money. If I can't play poker in Kane's, I shore can send a lot of folks +to his place with nothin' left but their pants an' socks!" + +"Don't overdo it," warned Fisher. "Come on--I'm headin' back an' I'll +leave you at Quayle's." + +"How'd you ever come to let that yearlin'-mad foreman keep away from +yore game?" asked Bill as they started up the street. "Strikes me you +shore overlooked somethin'." + +"Does look like it, from a distance," admitted Fisher, grinning. +"Reckon we was goin' too easy with him; but we didn't know you was +goin' to turn up an' horn in. We never like to stampede a good prospect +by bein' hasty. We felt him out a little an' I was figgerin' on amusin' +him right soon. There's somethin' cussed queer about him. We're all +guessin', an' guessin' different." + +"Yes?" inquired Bill carelessly. "I didn't notice nothin' queer about +him. He acts a little too shore of hisself, which is how I like 'em. +You ain't got a chance to get him now, for I'm goin' to set on his fool +head an' burn a nice, big BL on his flank. So any little thing that you +know shore will come in handy. I'd do th' same for you. I'm through +spoilin' yore game in Kane's, an' I didn't take yore job. What's so +queer about him?" + +Fisher glanced at his companion and shook his head. "It ain't nothin' +about cards. He figgered in a mistake that was made, an' don't know how +lucky he was. Th' boss don't often slip up--an' there's a white man an' +some Greasers in this town that are cussed lucky too. They blundered, +but they got what they went after. An' nobody's heard a word about th' +gent that was _un_lucky, which makes me suspicious. I got a headache +tryin' to figger it." He shook his head again and then exclaimed in +sudden anger: "An' I've quit tryin'! Kane was all set to throw me into +th' discard as soon as you come along. He can think what he wants to, +for all I care. But let me tell you this: If you win a big roll in this +town, an' th' one you got now is plenty big enough, be careful how you +wander around after dark. I reckon I owe you that much, anyhow." + +Bill stopped in front of the hotel. "I don't know what yo're talkin' +about, but that don't make no difference. Th' last part was plain. Come +in an' have somethin'." + +Fisher looked at him and smiled. "Friend, I'd just as soon be seen +goin' in there _now_ as I would be seen rustlin' a herd; an' it +might even be worse for me. Let it go till you come up to our place. +_Adios._" + + + + + CHAPTER VIII + + NOTES COMPARED + + +Entering the barroom of the hotel Bill bought a cigar, talked aimlessly +for a few minutes with Ed Doane and then wandered into the office, +where Johnny was seated in a chair tipped back against the wall and +talking to the proprietor. Bill nodded, took a seat and let himself +into the conversation by easy stages, until Quayle was talking to him +as much as he was to Johnny, and the burden of his words was Ridley's +death. + +Bill spat in disgust. "_That_ ain't th' way to get a man!" he +exclaimed. "Looks like some Greaser had a grudge agin' him--somebody +he's mebby fired off his payroll, or suspected of cattle-liftin'." + +"You're a stranger here," replied the proprietor. "I can tell ut aisy." + +"I am, an' glad of it," replied Bill, smiling; "but I'm learnin' th' +ways of yore town rapid. I already know Fisher's poker game, Thorpe's +nature, an' Pecos Kane's looks an' disposition. I cleaned Fisher at +poker, Thorpe has threatened to make me climb up a wall, an' Kane told +me, cold an' personal, to quit playin' poker in his place. I also +learned that a white man an' some Greasers made a big mistake, but +got what they went after; that Fisher figgers different from Kane an' +th' others; an' that Kane won't slip up th' next time, after dark, +'specially if he don't use th' same fellers. All that I heard; but what +it's about I don't know, or care." + +Johnny was laughing at the humor of the newcomer, and waved from Bill +to Quayle. "Tim, this is Bill Long, that we heard about, for I saw him +clean out Fisher. Long, this is Quayle, an' my name's Nelson. Cuss it, +man! _I_'d say you was gettin' acquainted fast. What was that you was +sayin' about th' white man an' th' Greasers, an' some mistake? It was +sort of riled up." + +"It _is_ riled up," chuckled Bill, crossing his legs. "I gave it out +just like I got it. As I says to Fisher last night, I'm a imitator. Any +news about th' robbery?" + +Quayle snorted. "Fine chance! An' d'ye think they'd be after tellin' on +thimselves? That's th' only way for any news to be heard." + +"I may be a stranger," replied Bill; "but I'm no stranger to human +nature, which is about th' same in one place as it is in another. If +that reward don't pan out some news, then I'm loco." + +Quayle listened to a call from the kitchen. "It's th' only chance, +then," he flung over his shoulder as he left them. "It's that d--d +Mick. I'll be back soon." + +Johnny, with a glance at the barroom door, leaned slightly forward and +whispered one word, his eyes moist: "_Hoppy!_" + +Bill Long squirmed and grinned. "_You flat-headed sage-hen!_" he +breathed. "_I want to see you in secret._" + +Johnny nodded. "I reckon th' reward might start somethin' out in th' +open, but I wouldn't want to be th' man that tried for it." His voice +dropped to a whisper. "_We'll take a ride this afternoon from Kane's, +plain an' open._" In his natural voice he continued. "But, Twitchell +an' Carpenter are shore powerful. An' they've got th' men an' th' +money." + +"Do you reckon anybody had a personal grudge?" asked Bill. "_I'll fix +it._" + +"I'm near as much a stranger here as you are," answered Johnny, "though +I sold Ridley some cattle. I met him before, on th' range around +Gunsight. Nice feller, he was. _What time?_" + +"He must 'a' been a good man, to work for th' T & C," replied Bill. +"_After dinner._" + +"He was." + +"Oh, well; it ain't _my_ funeral. Feel like a little game?" + +"I used to think I could play poker," chuckled Johnny; "but I woke up +last night. Seein' as how I still got them yearlin's to buy, I don't +feel like playin'." + +Quayle's voice boomed out suddenly from the kitchen. "If yer fingers +was feet ye'd be as good! _Hould_ it, now--if ut slips this time I'll +be after bustin' yer head. I've showed ye a dozen times how to put +it back, an' still ye yell fer me. _There_, now--_hould_ it! Hand me +th' wire--annybody'd think--blast th' blasted man that made ut! Some +Dootchman, I'll wager." + +"Shure an' we ought to get a new wan--it's warped crooked, an' +cracked----" + +"We should, should we?" roared the proprietor. "An' who are 'we'? Only +tin years old, an' it's a new wan we'd be gettin', is ut? What we ought +to be gettin' is a new cook, an' wan that's _not_ cracked. Now, th' +nixt time ye poke ut, poke gently--ye ain't makin' post holes with +that poker. An' _now_ look at me."--A door slammed and a washbasin +sounded like tin. + +Ed Doane's laugh sounded from the barroom and he appeared in the +doorway, where he grinned. "I hear it frequent, but it's allus funny. +Sometimes they near come to blows." + +"Stove?" queried Bill. + +"Shore th'--grate's buckled out of shape, an' it's a little short. +Murphy gets mad at th' fire an' prods it good--an' then th' show starts +all over again. It's funnier than th' devil when th' old man gets a +blister from it, for he talks so that nobody but Murphy can understand +one word in ten. Easy! Here he comes." + +"Buy a new wan, is ut?" muttered the proprietor, his red face bearing a +diagonal streak of soot. "Shure--for him to spile, like he spiled this +wan. Ah, byes, I'm tellin' ye th' hotel business ain't what it used to +be." + +"Yore face looks funny," said Ed. + +Quayle turned on him. "Oh, it does, does ut? Well, if my face don't +suit ye--now would ye look at that?" he demanded as he caught sight of +his reflection in the dingy mirror over the desk. "But it ain't so bad, +at that; th' black's above th' red!" + +"Hey, Tim!" came from the kitchen. "Thought ye said ye fixed ut? Ut's +down agin!" + +"I--I--I!" sputtered Quayle wildly. He spread the soot over his face +with a despairing sweep of his sleeve, leaped into the air and started +on a lumbering run for the kitchen. "You--I--_d--n_ it!" he yelled, and +the kitchen resounded to his bellowing demands for the cook. + +Ed Doane wiped his eyes, looked around--and shouted, his out-thrust +hand pointing to a window, where a red face peered into the room. + +"Shure," said the cook, apologetically, "he's the divvil himself. If +I stay here wan more day me name ain't Murphy. Will wan av yez, that +ain't go no interest in th' dommed stove, tell that Mick to buy a new +grate? An' would ye listen to him, _now_?" + +When he was able to Bill arose. "Well, I reckon I'll go up an' look in +at Kane's. If I run this way, don't stop me." + +Sauntering up the street he came to the south side of the gambling-hall +and went along it, and when a certain number of paces beyond the fifth +high window, the sill of which was above his head, he stumbled and +fell. Swearing under his breath he picked up a Colt which had slipped +from its holster and, arising to hands and knees, looked around and +then stood up. He could see under the entire building except at the +point where he had fallen, and there he saw that under Kane's private +room the walls went down into the earth. When he reached the stables +he entered the one which sheltered his horse, closed the door behind +him and made a hasty examination of the building, but found nothing +which made him suspect a secret exit. He came to the opinion that the +boards went down to the earth below Kane's quarters for the purpose +of not allowing anyone to crawl under his rooms. In a few minutes he +led his horse outside, mounted and rode around to the front of the +gambling-hall, where he dismounted and went in for a drink, scowling +slightly at the vigilant and militant Mr. Thorpe, who returned the look +with interest. + +"Got a cayuse?" he asked the bartender. + +The other shook his head. "No, why?" + +"Thought mebby you'd like to ride along with me. That one of mine will +be better for a little exercise. What's east of here?" + +"Sand hills, dried lakes, an' th' desert." + +"Then I'll go west," grinned Bill. "But mebby it's th' same?" + +"It ain't bad over that way; but why don't you ride south? There's real +good country down in them valleys." + +"Ain't that where th' T & C is?" + +The bartender nodded. + +"West is good enough for me. Better get a cayuse an' come along." + +"Can't do it, an' I ain't set a saddle in two years. I'd be a cripple +if I stuck to you. Why don't you hunt up that Nelson feller? He ain't +got nothin' to do." + +"Just left him. Don't reckon he'd care to go. Huh!" he muttered, +looking at the clock. "I reckon I'll eat first, an' ride after." + +Shortly after dinner Johnny strolled in and nodded to the bartender, +who immediately called to Bill Long. + +"Here's Nelson now; mebby he'll go with you," he said. + +"Go where?" asked Johnny, pausing. + +"Ridin'." + +"What for?" + +"Exercise. He wants to take th' devilishness out of his horse. You got +one, too, ain't you?" + +"Shore have," answered Johnny. "An' she's gettin' mean, too. It ain't a +bad idea. Where are you goin', Long?" + +"Anywhere, everywhere, or nowhere," answered Bill carelessly. "I'm +aiming to ride him to a frazzle, an' I got to cut down his feed more." + +"All right, if you says so," agreed Johnny, joining the group. + +Red Thompson rode up to the door and came in. "Hey, anybody that's +goin' down th' trail wants to ride easy. That T & C gang are so +suspicious that they're insultin'. Got four men ridin' along their +wire, with rifles across their pommels. Looks like they was goin' on +th' prod." + +Thorpe silently withdrew, to reappear in a few minutes and resume his +watch. + +Bill arose and nodded to Johnny as he went out. "Ready, Nelson?" he +asked. + +In a few minutes they met in front of the gambling-hall, and the SV +foreman's black caused admiring and covetous looks to show on the faces +of the idle group. + +"Foller th' trail leadin' to Lukins' ranch, over west," suggested +Fisher. "It's better than cross-country. You'll strike it half a mile +above." + +Long nodded and led the way, both animals prancing and bucking mildly +to work off some of their accumulated energy. Reaching the cross trail +they swung along it at a distance-eating lope. + +"Tell me about everythin'," suggested Johnny. "How'd you come to ride +south?" + +"Kid," said Hopalong, "you got th' best cayuse ever raised in +Montanny. That Englishman was shore right: it pays to cross 'em with +thoroughbreds." Moodily silent for a moment, he slowly continued. "Kid, +I've lost Mary, an' William, Junior. Fever took 'em in four days, an' +never even touched _me_! I'm all alone. Either you move up north, or I +stay with you till I die. An' if I do that I'll miss Red an' th' others +like th' devil. I'm goin' to have a good look at that Bar-H, that you +chased them thieves off of. Montanny is too far north, an' I'm feelin' +th' winters too hard. An' it's gettin' settled too fast, an' bein' +ploughed up more every year. But all of this can wait: what's goin' on +down here that I don't know?" + +Johnny told him and when he had finished and listened to what his +friend knew they spent the rest of the time discussing the situation +from every angle and arranged a few simple signals, resurrected +from the past, to serve in the press of any sudden need. They met +two punchers riding in from Lukins' ranch, exchanged nods and then +turned south into the cattle trail, crossed a crescent arroyo and +turned again, when below the town, under the suspicious eyes of a +Question-Mark sentry hidden in a thicket. Following the main trail +north they entered the town and parted at Quayle's. + +The evening passed uneventfully in Kane's and when the group began +to break up Bill Long went up to his room. Gradually man after man +deserted the gambling-hall, until only Johnny and the head bartender +were left, and after half an hour's dragging conversation the dispenser +of liquids yawned and nodded decisively. + +"Nelson, I'm goin' to lock up after you. See you tomorrow." + +"Most sensible words said tonight," replied Johnny, and he stepped out, +the door closing behind him. The lights went out, one by one, with a +tardiness due to their height from the floor, and he stood quietly for +a moment, scrutinizing the sky and enjoying the refreshing coolness. +Moving out into the middle of the street he sauntered toward the dark +hotel, every sense alert as a previous experience came back to him. +Suddenly a barely audible sound, like the cracking of a toe joint, +caused him to leap aside. An indistinct figure plunged past him, so +close that he felt the wind of it. His gun roared while he was in +the air and when he alighted he was crouched, facing the rear, where +another figure blundered into the second shot and dropped. Swiftly +padding feet came nearer and he slipped further to the side, letting +the sound pass without hindrance. Moving softly forward he turned and +crept along the wall of a building, smiling grimly at the low Spanish +curses behind him on the street. Again the kitchen door served him well +and the deeper blackness of the interior silently engulfed him. + +Up at Kane's, Red Thompson, who was awake and waiting until the +building should be wrapped in sleep, heard the shots and crept to the +window. He could see nothing, but he heard whispers and heavy, slow and +shuffling steps, which drew steadily nearer. The Mexican tongue was no +puzzle to Red, whose years largely had been spent in a country where +it was constantly used and his fears, instantly aroused, were soon +followed by a savage grin. + +"That Nelson, he is a devil," floated up to him, the words a low growl. + +"Again he got away. I will not face the Big Boss. It is the second +failure, and with Anton dead, an' Juan's arm broken, I shall leave this +town. Put him here, at the door. May God forgive his sins! _Adios!_" + +"Wait, Sanchez!" called a companion. "We will all go, even Juan, for +he'd better ride than remain. There will be trouble." + +"What's all th' hellabaloo?" came Thorpe's truculent voice in English +from the corner of the building, where he stood, clad only in boots +and underwear, a six-shooter in his upraised hand. At the sudden soft +scurrying of feet he started forward, and then checked himself. + +"If them Greasers bungled it _this_ time, may th' Lord help 'em. +They'll shore get a-plenty. I wouldn't be--" he stopped and stared at +the door, and then moved closer to it. "By G--d, they _got_ him!" he +whispered, and bent down, his hand passing over the indistinct figure. +"Huh! I take it all back," he muttered in disgust. "That's a Greaser, +by feel an' smell. They made more of a mess of it this time than +they did before. Well, you ain't no fit ornament for th' front door. +Might as well move you myself," and, grumbling, he grabbed hold of +the collar and dragged the unresisting bulk around to the rear, where +he carelessly dropped it and went back into the building. Soon two +Mexicans, rubbing sleepy eyes, emerged with shovel and spade, that the +dawn should find nothing more than a carefully hidden grave. + +Red waited a little longer and then, knowing better than to go on his +feet along the old floor of the hall, inched slowly over it on his +stomach, careful to let each board take his weight gradually. Reaching +the second door on his left he slowly pushed it open, chuckling with +pride at his friend's forethought in oiling the one squeaking hinge. +Closing it gently he scratched on the floor twice and then went on +again toward the answering scratch. An hour passed in the softest +of whispering and when he at last entered his own room again and +carefully stood up, the darkness hid a rare smile on his tanned and +leathery face, which an exultant thought had lighted. + +"Th' Old Days: They're comin' back again!" he gloated. "Me, an' Hoppy, +an' the Kid! Glory be!" and the smile persisted until he awakened at +dawn, when it moved from the wrinkled face to the secrecy of his heart. + + + + + CHAPTER IX + + WAYS OF SERVING NOTICE + + +If Sandy Bend had been seized with a local spasm when the senior member +of the T & C had learned of the robbery of the Mesquite bank, it now +was having a very creditable fit. The little printing-shop was the +scene of bustling activities and soon a small bundle of handbills was +on its way to the office of the cattle king. McCullough, drive-boss +_par excellence_ and one of the surviving frontiersmen who not only had +made history in several localities, but had helped to wear the ruts in +the old Santa Fe Trail until the creeping roadbed of the railroad had +put the trail with other interesting relics of the past, was rudely +torn from his seven-up game with his cronies by one of the several +couriers who lathered horses at the snapping behest of the senior +partner. He hastened to the office, rumbled across the outer room and +pushed open the door of the holy of holies without even the semblance +of a knock. He was blunt, direct, and no respecter of persons. + +"Hello, Charley!" he grunted. "What's loose now?" + +"H--l's loose!" snapped Twitchell. "Ridley's been murdered by one of +Kane's gang. Shot in th' back--head near blowed off. There's only four +men up there now, an' they may be dead by this time. Take as many +men as you need an' go up there--we just bought a herd of SV cows, if +there's any left. But I want th' man that killed Ridley. That's first. +I want th' man who robbed th' bank--that's second. An' I want Pecos +Kane--that's first, second, an' third. D--n it! I growed up with Tom +Ridley!" + +"I'll take twenty men an' bring you th' whole gang--but some of 'em +will shore spoil before we can get 'em here, this kind of weather. Do I +burn that end of th' town?" + +"You'll burn nothin'," retorted Twitchell. "You'll not risk a man until +you have to. You'll stay on th' ranch an' watch th' cattle. I've lost +one good man now, an' I'm spendin' money before I risk losin' any more. +There's a bundle of handbills. When they've been digested by that bunch +of assassins you can sit in th' bunkhouse an' have yore game delivered +to you, all tied up, an' tagged." + +"Orders is orders," growled McCullough; "but some are d--d fool orders. +If you want somebody to set on th' front porch an' whittle, why'n h--l +are you cuttin' _me_ out of th' herd for th' job?" + +"I'm cuttin' you out because I want my best man out there!" retorted +the senior member heatedly. "You may find it lively settin', an' have +to do yore whittlin' with rifles an' six-guns. Look out that somebody +don't whittle you at eight hundred while yo're settin' on th' front +porch! You talk like you think yo're goin' to a prayer meetin'!" + +"I'm hopin' they come that close," said McCullough, picking up the +package of bills. "So Tom's gone, huh? Charley, there ain't many of +us left no more. Remember how you an' Ridley an' me used to go off +trappin' them winters, hundreds of miles into th' mountains, with only +what we could easy carry on our backs? That was livin'." + +"You get out of here, you old fraud!" roared Twitchell. "Ain't I got +enough to bother me now? Take care of yoreself, Mac; an' my way's worth +tryin', an' tryin' good. If it don't work, then we'll have to try yore +way." + +"All right; I'll give it a fair ride, Charley; but it will be time +wasted," replied the trail-boss. "In that case I'm takin' a dozen men. +We relay at th' Squaw Creek corrals, an' again at Sweetwater Bottoms. +Send a wagon after us--you'll know what we'll need. You send a new boss +to th' Sweetwater, for I'm pickin' up Waffles. He's one of th' best men +you got, an' he's been picketed at that two-bits station long enough." + +"Good luck, Mac. Take who you want. Yo're th' boss. Any play you make +will be backed to th' limit by th' T & C." + +When McCullough got outside he found a crowd of men which the +hard-riding couriers had sent in from all parts of the town. They +shouted questions and got terse answers as he picked his dozen, the +twelve best out of a crowd of good men, all known to him in person +and by deeds. The lucky dozen smiled exultantly at the scowling +unfortunates and dashed up the street in a bunch after their grizzled +pacemaker. One of the last, glancing behind him, saw a stern-faced, +sorrowful man in a black store suit standing in the office door looking +wistfully after them; and the rider, gifted with understanding, raised +his hand to his hat brim and faced around. + +"Th' old man's sorry he's boss," he confided to his nearest companion. + +"An' there's plenty up in Mesquite that will be th' same," came the +reply. + +Despite his years McCullough held his lead without crowding from +the rear, for he was of the hard-riding breed and toughened to the +work. When the first relay was obtained at Squaw Creek that evening +there were several who felt the strain more than the leader. A hasty +supper and they were gone again, pounding into the gathering dusk of +the northwest. All night they rode along a fair trail, strung out +behind a man who kept to it with uncanny certainty. Dawn found them +changing mounts in Sweetwater Bottoms, but without the snap displayed +at the Squaw. Waffles, one-time foreman of the O-Bar-O, needed all his +habitual repression to keep from favoring them with a war dance when he +heard his luck. Impatiently waiting for the surprised but enthusiastic +cook to prepare their breakfasts, they made short work of the meal +when it appeared and rolled on again, silent, grim, heavy-lidded, +but cheerful. They gladly would do more than that for McCullough, +Twitchell--and Tom Ridley. The second evening found them riding up to +the buildings of the Question-Mark, guns across their pommels, and they +were thankfully received. + +Mesquite awakened the next morning to a surprise, for handbills were +scattered on its few streets and had been pushed under doors, one of +them under the front door of Kane's gambling-hall. When Johnny came +down to breakfast the proprietor handed him the sheet, pointing to its +flaming headline. + +"Read that, me bye!" cried Quayle. + +Johnny obeyed: + + =$2,500.00 REWARD!= + + For Information Leading to the Capture and + Conviction of the Murderer of Tom Ridley + + =STRICTLY CONFIDENTIAL= + + TWITCHELL & CARPENTER, Sandy Bend + JOHN McCULLOUGH, Gen'l. Supt., Mesquite + +He thoughtlessly shoved it into his pocket and shrugged his shoulders. +"That man Twitchell thinks a lot of his money," he said. "But, if it's +his way, it's his way. I'm glad to say it ain't mine." + +Quayle looked at him from under heavy brows and smiled faintly. "Mac's +here, hisself," he said. "They've raised th' ante, an' if I was as +young as you I'd have a try at th' game. An', me bye, it isn't only th' +money; 'tis a duty, an' a pleasure. Go in an' eat, now, before that +wild Mick av a cook scalps ye." + +Hoofbeats pounded up the street from the south and a Mexican galloped +past towards Kane's, followed on foot by several idlers. + +"There ye go!" savagely growled the proprietor; "an' I hope ye saw +a-plenty, ye Greaser dog!" + +After a hurried breakfast Johnny went up to Kane's and found an air of +tension and suspicion. Men were going in and out of the door through +the partition and the half-friendly smiles which he had received +the night before were everywhere missing. Feeling the chill of his +reception did not blunt his powers of observation, for he saw that +both Red Thompson and Bill Long, being unaccredited strangers, drew +an occasional suspicious glance. The former was seated in a chair at +the lower end of the bar, his back to the wall and only a step from the +dining-room door. Bill Long was leaning against the upper end of the +counter, where it turned at right angles to meet the wall behind it. +At Bill's back and only two steps away was the front door. His chin +was in his hand and his elbow rested on the bar, where he appeared +to be moodily studying the floor behind the counter, but in reality +his keen, narrowed eyes were watching Thorpe and the loopholes in the +checkerboard. From his position he caught the light on them at just +the right angle to see the backing plates. He let Johnny go past him +without more than a casual glance and nod. + +Thorpe moved forward, cleaving a straight path through the restless +crowd and stopped in front of the newcomer. "Nelson," he said, tartly; +"th' boss wants to see you, _pronto_!" As he spoke he let his swinging +hand rest against the butt of his gun. + +Johnny took plenty of time for his answer, his mind working at top +speed. If Kane had caused inquiries to be made around Gunsight +concerning him he knew that the report hardly would please any man who +was against law and order; and he knew that Kane had had plenty of time +to make the inquiries. The thinly veiled hostility and suspicions on +the faces around him settled that question in his mind. He slouched +sidewise until he had Thorpe in a better position between him and the +partition. + +"You shore made a mistake," he drawled. "Th' boss never even heard of +me." + +"I said _pronto_!" snapped Thorpe. + +"Well, as long as yo're so pressin'," came the slow, acquiescent reply, +"you can _go to h--l_!" + +Thorpe's gun got halfway out, and stopped as a heavy Colt jabbed into +his stomach with a force which knocked the breath out of him and +doubled him up. Johnny's other gun, deftly balanced between his palm +and the thumb on its hammer, freezing the expressions as it had found +them on the faces of the crowd. "Stick up yore han's! All of you! You, +in the chair!" he roared. "Stick 'em up!" and Red lost no time in +making up for his delinquency. Bill Long, being out of the angry man's +sight, raised his only halfway. + +"I was welcome enough last night," snapped Johnny; "but somethin's +wrong today. If Kane wants to see me, he can send somebody that can +talk without insultin' me. An' as for this sick cow, I'm warnin' him +fair that I shoot at th' first move, _his_ move or anybody _else's_. +Stand up, _you_!" he shouted; "an' foller me outside. Keep close, an' +plumb in front of me. I'll turn you loose when I get to cover. _Come +on!_" + +As he backed toward the door, Thorpe following, Bill Long, seeing that +Johnny was master of the situation, got his hands all the way up, but +the motion was observed and Johnny's gun left Thorpe long enough to +swing aside and cover the tardy one. "You keep 'em there!" he gritted. +"You can rest 'em later!" and he cautiously backed against the door, +moved along it the few inches necessary to gain the opening, and felt +his way to the street. "Don't you gamble, Thorpe!" he warned. "Stick +closer!" + +Being furthest from the front door and soonest out of Johnny's sight, +Red Thompson let his hands fall to his hips and cautiously peered over +the top of the bar, ready to cover the crowd until Bill Long could drop +his upraised hands. + +Bill was unfortunate, since he would have to be the last man to assume +a more natural position; but he was growing tired and suddenly flung +himself sidewise beyond the door opening. As he left the bar there came +a heavy report from the street and the bullet, striking the edge of the +counter where he had stood, glanced upward and entered the ceiling, a +generous cloud of dust moving slowly downward. + +"He's a mad dog," muttered Bill, shrinking against the wall. "An' he +can shoot like h--l! I reckon he's itchin' to get me on sight, _now_. +Somebody look out an' see where he is. But what'n blazes is it all +about, anyhow?" + +The chief bartender's head reappeared further down, the counter. "You +fool!" he yelled. "Why didn't you let me know what you was goin' to do? +Don't you never think of nobody but yourself? That parted my hair!" + +Fisher swore disgustedly. "Look out, yourself, Long, if yo're curious! +But why didn't you get him?" he demanded. "You was behind him!" + +"I wasn't neither behind him; I was on th' side!" retorted Bill. "He +was watchin' me out of th' corner of his eye, like th' d--d rattler he +is! I could see it plain, I tell you!" + +"You can see lots of things when yo're scared stiff, can't you?" +sneered a voice in the crowd. + +"I wasn't scared," defended Bill. "But I wasn't takin' no chances for +th' glory of it. He never done nothin' to me, an' I ain't on Kane's +payroll--yet." + +"An' you ain't goin' to be, I reckon," laughed another. + +Fisher's face proclaimed that he had solved whatever problem there +might be in Bill's lack of action. "Ain't had a chance to get it from +him yet, huh?" he asked. Sneering, he gave a warning as he turned away. +"An' don't you try for it, neither. If he won't come back here no more, +I can get him playin' somewhere else." + +Red arose fully and stretched, hearing a slight grating noise at a +loophole in the partition behind him, where the slide dropped into +place. "I'm dry; bone dry," he announced. "I never was so dry before. +All in favor of a drink, step up. I'm payin' for _this_ round." + +All were in favor of it, and the bartender moved slowly behind the +counter toward the front door, his head bent over far to the right. +"Don't see him; but we better wait till Thorpe comes back. Great guns! +Did you _see_ it!" he marveled. + +"I can see it better now than I could then," said Red, leaning against +the bar. "Come on, boys; he's done gone. This means you, too, Long; +'though I ain't sayin' you hardly earned it. If he saw you before he +backed up, I says he's got eyes in his ears. Why, cuss it, he was +lookin' plumb at _me_ all th' time. You got too hefty an imagination, +Long." + +Out in the street Johnny, backing swiftly from the building, saw Bill +Long's sudden leap and fired, for moral effect, at the place vacated. +Yanking his captive's gun from its holster, he was about to toss it +aside when his fingers gripped the telltale butt and a colder look +gleamed in his eyes. Slipping his right-hand gun into its holster he +gripped the captured weapon affectionately, and then hazarded a quick +glance around him. Someone was riding rapidly down the trail from the +north, and a second sidewise glance told him that it was Idaho. + +"Faster, you!" he growled to the doorkeeper. "Keep a-comin'--keep +a-comin'. One false move an' Kane'll need another sentry. You may be +able to make Bill Long climb up a wall, but I ain't in his class." + +Idaho, who was riding in to appease his burning curiosity, felt its +flames lick instantly higher as he saw his friend back swiftly from +Kane's front door, with Thorpe apparently hooked on the sight of +the six-gun. Drawing rein instantly in his astonishment, he at once +loosened them and whirled into the scanty and scrawny vegetation on the +far side of the trail. Going at a dead run he sent the wiry little pony +over piles of cans, around cacti and other larger obstructions until +he reached the rear of Red Frank's, facing on the next street. Here +he pulled up and drew the Winchester from its scabbard, feeling that +Johnny was capable of taking care of Kane's if not interfered with from +behind. + +Johnny, reaching the rear of the building which he had sought the night +before, leaped back and to one side as he came to the end of the wall, +glanced along the rear end and then curtly ordered Thorpe back to his +friends. + +"There'll be more to this," snarled Thorpe, white from anger, his face +working. His courage was not of the fineness necessary to let him +yield to the mad impulse which surged over him and urged him to throw +himself, hands, feet and teeth, in a blind and hopeless attack upon the +certain death which balanced itself in the gun in Johnny's hand. His +blazing eyes fixed full on his enemy's, he let discretion be his tutor +and slowly, grudgingly stepped back, his dragging feet moving only +inches at each shuffle, while their owner, poised and tense and ready +to take advantage of any slip on Johnny's part, backed toward the sandy +street and the scene of his discomfiture. At last reaching the front of +the building he paused, stood slowly erect and then wheeled about and +strode toward Kane's. At the door he glanced once more at his waiting +adversary and then plunged into the room, striding straight for the +partition door without a single sidewise glance. + +Idaho's voice broke the spell. "I thought he was goin' to risk it," he +muttered, a deep sigh of relief following the words. "He was near loco, +but he just about had enough sense left to save his worthless life. You +would 'a' blowed him apart at that distance." + +"I'd 'a' smashed his pointed jaw!" growled Johnny. "I ain't shootin' +nobody that don't reach for a gun. An' if I'd had any sense I'd 'a' +chucked th' guns to you an' let him have his beatin'. Next time, I +will. Fine sort of a dog he is, tellin' me what I'm goin' to do, an' +when I'm goin' to do it!" + +"Wait till pay day, when I'll have more money," chuckled Idaho. "I can +easy get three to two around here. He's th' champeen rough-an'-tumble +fighter for near a hundred miles, but I'm sayin' any man with th' +everlastin' nerve to pull Kit Thorpe out from his own kennel an' pack +ain't got sense enough to know when he's licked. An' that bein' so, +I'm bettin' on yore condition to win. He's gettin' fat an' shortwinded +from doin' nothin'. Besides, I'm one of them fools that allus bets on +a friend." He laughed as certain memories passed before him. "I've done +had a treat--come on, an' let me treat you. How many was in there when +you pulled him out? An' why didn't th' partition work like it allus did +before?" + +"Because th' man that worked it was out in front," answered Johnny. +"Things went too fast for anybody else to get behind it." A sudden +grin slipped to his face. "Hey, I got one of my pet guns back! He was +wearin' it. I knowed it as soon as my fingers closed around th' butt, +for I shaped it to fit my hand several years ago. Did you see th' +handbills? Twitchell's put up another reward, this one for Ridley; an' +McCullough is down on th' Question-Mark. Things ought to step fast, +now." + + + + + CHAPTER X + + TWICE IN THE SAME PLACE + + +Thorpe reappeared through the partition door armed anew with the mate +to the gun he had lost, too enraged to notice that it was better suited +to a left than to a right hand. An ordinary man hardly would have +noticed it, but a gunman of his years and experience should have sensed +the ill-fitting grip at once. He glared over the room, suspiciously +eager to catch some unfortunate indulging in a grin, for he had been +so shamed and humiliated that it was almost necessary to his future +safety that he redeem himself and put his shattered reputation back on +its pedestal of fear. There were no grins, for however much any of his +acquaintances might have enjoyed his discomfiture they had no lessened +respect for his ability with either six-guns or fists; and there was a +restlessness in the crowd, for no man knew what was coming. + +Fisher conveyed the collective opinion and broke the tension. "_Any_ +man would 'a' been fooled," he said to the head bartender, but loud +enough for all to hear it. His voice indicated vexation at the success +of so shabby a trick. "When he answered Thorpe I shore thought he was +goin' prompt an' peaceful--why, he even _started_! Nobody reckoned he +was aimin' to make a gunplay. How could they? An' I'm sayin' that it's +cussed lucky for him that _Thorpe_ didn't!" + +"Anybody can be fooled th' _first_ time," replied the man of liquor. +He looked over at the partition door and nodded. "Come over an' have a +drink, Thorpe, an' forget it. I got money that says there ain't no man +alive can beat you on th' draw. He tricked you, actin' that way." + +"He's th' first man on earth ever shoved a gun into me like that," +growled Thorpe, slowly moving forward. "An' he's th' last! Seein' as +there's some here that mebby ain't shore about it, I'll show 'em that +I was tricked!" He stopped in front of Bill Long and regarded that +surprised individual with a look as malevolent as it was sincere. "Any +squaw dog can tote _two_ guns," he said, his still raging anger putting +a keener edge to the words. "When he does he tells everybody that he's +shore bad. If he ain't, that's _his_ fault. I tote one--an' yo're not +goin' to swagger around these parts with any more than I got. Which one +are you goin' to throw away?" + +Bill blinked at him with owlish stupidity. "What you say?" he asked, as +though doubting the reliability of his ears. + +"Oh," sneered Thorpe, his rage climbing anew; "you didn't hear me th' +first time, huh? Well, you want to be listenin' _this_ time! I asked, +which gun are you goin' to throw away, you card-skinnin' four-flush?" + +"Why," faltered Bill, doing his very best to play the part he had +chosen. "I--I dunno--I ain't goin' to--to throw any of 'em away. What +you mean?" + +"Throw one away!" snapped Thorpe, his animal cunning telling him that +the obeyance of the order might possibly be accepted by the crowd as +grounds for justification, if any should be needed. + +Bill changed subtly as he reflected that the crowd had excused Thorpe's +humiliation because he had been tricked, and determined that no such +excuse should be used again. He looked the enraged man in the eyes and +a contemptuous smile crept around his thin lips. "Thorpe," he drawled, +"if yo're lookin' for props to hold up yore reputation, you got th' +wrong timber. Better look for a sick cow, or----" + +The crowd gasped as it realized that its friend's fingers were again +relaxing from the butt of his half-drawn gun and that three pounds +of steel, concentrated on the small circumference of the barrel of a +six-gun had been jabbed into the pit of his stomach with such speed +that they had not seen it, and with such force that the victim of the +blow was sick, racked with pain and scarcely able to stand, momentarily +paralyzed by the second assault on the abused stomach, which caved, +quivered, and retched from the impact. Again he had failed, this +time after cold, calm warning; again the astonished crowd froze in +ridiculous postures, with ludicrous expressions graven on their +faces, their automatic arms leaping skyward as they gaped stupidly, +unbelievingly at the second gun. Before they could collect their +numbed senses the master of the situation had backed swiftly against +the wall near the front door, thereby blasting the budding hopes of +the bartender, whose wits and power of movement, returning at equal +pace, were well ahead of those of his friends. It also saved the man of +liquor from being dropped behind his own bar by the gun of the alert +Mr. Thompson, who felt relieved when the crisis had passed without +calling forth any effort on his part which would couple him with the +capable Mr. Long. + +"Climb that wall!" said Bill Long, his voice vibrating with the sudden +outpouring of accumulated repression. "I'm lookin' for a chance to kill +you, so I ain't askin' you to throw away no gun. This is between you +an' me--anybody takin' cards will drop cold. You got it comin', an' +comin' fair. Climb that wall!" + +Thorpe, gasping and agonized, fought off the sickness which had held +him rigid and stared open-eyed, open-mouthed at glinting ferocity in +the narrowed eyes of the two-gun man. + +"Climb that wall!" came the order, this time almost a whisper, but +sharp and cutting as the edge of a knife, and there was a certainty in +the voice and eyes which was not to be disregarded. Thorpe straightened +up a little, turned slowly and slowly made his way through the opening +crowd to the wall, and leaned against it. He had no thought of using +the gun at his hip, no idea of resistance, for the spirit of the bully +within him had been utterly crushed. He was a broken man, groping for +bearings in the fog of the shifting readjustments going on in his soul. + +"_Climb!_" said Bill Long's voice like the cracking of a bull-whacker's +whip, and Thorpe mechanically obeyed, his finger-nails and boot toes +scraping over the smooth boards in senseless effort. He had not yet had +time to realize what he had lost, to feel the worthlessness which would +be his to the end of his days. + +The two-gun man nodded. "I told you boys I was a imitator," he said, +smiling; "an' I am. I imitated him in his play to kill me. I imitated +that SV foreman, an' now I'm imitatin' Thorpe again. It's his own idea, +climbin' walls." + +Fisher, watching the still-climbing Thorpe, was using his nimble wits +for a way out of a situation which easily might turn into anything, +from a joke to a sudden shambles. He now had no doubts about the real +quality of Bill Long, and he secretly congratulated himself that he had +not yielded to certain temptations he had felt. Besides, his arms were +growing heavy and numb. There came to his mind the further thought that +this two-gun, card-playing wizard would be a very good partner for a +tour of the country, a tour which should be lucrative and safe enough +to satisfy anyone. + +"Huh," he laughed. "We're imitatin', too; only we're imitatin' +ourselves, an' we're gettin' tired of holdin' 'em up. I'm sayin', fair +an' square, that I ain't aimin' to draw no cards in any game that is +two-handed. I reckon th' rest of th' boys feel th' same as I do. How +'bout it, boys?" + +Affirmation came slowly or explosively, according to the individual +natures, and the two-gun man was confident enough in his ability to +judge character to accept the words. He slowly dropped his guns back in +the holsters and smiled broadly. Even the lower class of men is capable +of feeling a real liking, when it is based on audacious courage, for +anyone who deserves it; and he knew that the now shifting crowd had +been caught in the momentum of such a feeling. There was also another +consideration to which more than one man present gave grave heed: They +scarcely had quit marveling at the wizardy of one two-gun man when the +second had appeared and made them marvel anew. + +"All right, boys," he said. "Thorpe, you can quit climbin', seein' +that you ain't gettin' nowhere. Come over here an' gimme that gun. I'm +still imitatin'. This ain't been no lucky day for you, an' just to +show you that you can make it onluckier," he said as he took the Colt, +"I'm goin' to impress somethin' on yore mind." He threw the barrel up +and carelessly emptied the weapon into the checkerboard partition with +a rapidity which left nothing to be desired. The distance was nearly +sixty feet. "Reckon you can cover 'em all with th' palm of one hand," +he remarked as he shifted the empty gun to his left hand, where he +thought it would fit better. He looked at it and turned it over. Three +small dots, driven into the side of the frame, made him repress a +smile. His own guns had two, while Red Thompson's lone Colt had four. +He opened the flange and shoved the gun down behind the backstrap of +his trousers, where a left-handed man often finds it convenient to +carry a weapon, since the butt points that way. Letting his coat fall +back into place he walked slowly to the door and out onto the street, +the conversation in the room buzzing high after he left. + +He next appeared in Quayle's, where he grinned at Idaho, Quayle, +Johnny, and Ed Doane. + +"I just made Thorpe climb th' wall," he said. "He looked like a pinned +toad. Do you ever like to split up a pair of aces, Nelson?" + +Johnny considered a moment and then slowly shook his head. + +"Neither do I," replied the newcomer. His left hand went slowly around +under his coat and brought out the captured Colt. "An' I ain't goin' to +begin doin' it now. Here," and he handed the weapon to Johnny. + +Johnny took it mechanically and then quickly turned it over and glanced +at the frame. Weighing it judicially he looked up. "Th' feel an' +balance of this Colt just suits me," he said. "Want to sell it?" + +"I don't hardly own it enough to _sell_ it," answered Bill; "but I +reckon I can give it away, seein' that Thorpe set th' fashion. I'm +warnin' you that he _might_ want it back. But you should 'a' seen him +a-climbin' that wall!" and he burst into laughter. + +"I'll gamble," grinned Johnny. "I'll get you a new one for it." + +"No, you won't," replied Bill, still laughing. "I got more'n th' value +of a wore-out six-gun watchin' yore show up there. Besides, if it was +better'n mine I would 'a' kept it myself. I ain't expectin' you'll be +there, tonight," he finished. + +"Suits me right here," replied Johnny. "Much obliged for th' gun." +He looked at Idaho and grinned. "I aim to clean out this sage-hen at +Californy Jack, tonight." + +"Which same you might do," admitted Idaho, slowly looking at the Colt +in his friend's hand; "for you shore are a fool for luck." + + + + + CHAPTER XI + + A JOB WELL DONE + + +Pecos Kane looked up at the sound of shooting and signaled for the +doorkeeper. Getting no response he pulled another cord and waited +impatiently for the man who answered it. + +"What was that shooting, and who did it?" demanded the boss. He cut the +wordy recital short. "Tell Bill Trask to assume Thorpe's duties and +send Thorpe to me." + +Thorpe soon appeared, slowly closed the door behind him and faced the +boss, who studied him for a silent interval, the object of the keen +scrutiny squirming at the close of it. + +"You are no longer suited for my doortender," said Kane's hard voice. +"Report to the dining-room, or kitchen, or leave the hotel entirely. +But first find Corwin and send him to me. That is all." + +Thorpe gulped and shuffled out and in a few minutes the sheriff +appeared. + +"Sit down, Corwin," said Kane, pleasantly. "Trask has Thorpe's job now. +Wait a moment until I think something out," and he sat back in his +chair, his eyes closing. In a few moments he opened them and leaned +forward. "I have come to a decision regarding some strangers in this +town. I have reason to believe that Long and Thompson know each other a +great deal better than they pretend. I want to know more about Nelson, +so you will send a good man up to his country to get me a report on +him. Do it as soon as you leave me, and tell him to waste no time. That +clear?" + +Corwin nodded. + +"Very well," continued the boss. "I want you to arrest both Long and +Thompson before tomorrow, and throw them into jail. Since Long's +exhibition today it will be well to go about it in a manner calculated +to avoid bloodshed. There is no use of throwing men away by sending +them against such gunplay. You are to arrest them without a shot being +fired on _either_ side. It is only a matter of figuring it out, and I +will give you this much to start on: Whatever suspicions may have been +aroused in their minds about their welcome here not being cordial must +be removed. Because of that there should be no ill-advised speed in +carrying out the arrests. They could be shot down from behind, but I +want them alive; and it suits my purpose better if they are taken right +here in this building. They are worth money, and a great deal more than +money to me, to you, and to all of us. Twitchell and Carpenter are very +powerful and they must be placated if it can be done in such a way +as not to jeopardize us. I think it may be done in a way which will +strengthen us. You follow me closely?" + +The sheriff nodded again. + +"All right," said Kane. "Now then, tell me where each of the three men, +Nelson, Long, and Thompson, were on the occasions of the robbery of the +bank and the death of Ridley. Think carefully." + +Corwin gazed at the floor thoughtfully. "When th' bank was robbed +Nelson was playin' cards with Idaho Norton in Quayle's saloon. Quayle +an' Doane were in there with 'em. Long an' Thompson were here, +upstairs, asleep." + +"Very good, so far," commented Kane; "go on." + +"When Ridley was shot Nelson was with Idaho Norton in Quayle's hotel, +for both of them rustled into th' street an' carried him indoors. +Thompson was in th' front room, here, an' Long come in soon after the +shot was fired." + +"Excellent. Which way did he come?" + +"Through th' front door." + +"Before that?" demanded the boss impatiently. + +"I don't know." + +"Why don't you?" blazed Kane. "Have I got to do _all_ th' thinking for +this crowd of dumbheads?" + +"Why, why should I know?" Corwin asked in surprise. + +"If you don't know the answer to your own question it is only wasting +my time to tell it to you. Now, listen: You are to send four men in to +me--but not Mexicans, for the testimony of Mexicans in this country is +not taken any too seriously by juries. The four are not all to come +the same way nor at the same time. The dumbheads I have around me +necessitate that each be instructed separate and apart from the others, +else they wouldn't know, or keep separate their own part. Is this +plain?" + +"Yes," answered the arm of the law. + +"Very well. Now you will go out and arrange to arrest and jail those +two men. And after you have arranged it you will _do_ it. Not a shot is +to be fired. When they are in jail report to me. That is all." + +Corwin departed and did not scratch his head until the door closed +after him, and then he showed great signs of perplexity. As he went up +the next corridor he caught sight of a friend leaning against the back +of the partition, and just beyond was Bill Trask at his new post. He +beckoned to them both. + +"Sandy, you are to report to th' boss, right away," ordered the +sheriff. "He wants four white men, an' yo're near white. Trask, send in +three more white men, one at a time, after Woods comes out. An' let me +impress _this_ on yore mind: It is strict orders that you ain't to fire +a shot tonight, when somethin' happens that's goin' to happen; you, nor +nobody else. Got that good?" + +"What do you mean?" asked the sentry, grinning. + +"Good G--d!" snorted the sheriff. "Do I have to do _all_ th' thinkin' +for this crowd of dumbheads?" + +"Yo're a parrot," retorted Trask. "I know that by heart. You _don't_ +have to. You don't even do yore _own_. You may go!" + +Corwin grunted and joined the crowd in the big room and when Bill Long +wandered in and settled down to watch a game the sheriff in due time +found a seat at his side. His conversation was natural, not too steady +and not too friendly and neither did he tarry too long, for when he +thought that he had remained long enough he wandered up to the bar, +joked with the chief dispenser, and mixed with the crowd. After awhile +he went out and strolled over to the jail, where a dozen men were +waiting for him. His lecture to them was painfully simple, in the +simplest words of his simple vocabulary, and when he at last returned +to the gambling-hall he was certain that his pupils were letter-perfect. + +Meanwhile Kane had been busy and when the first of the four appeared +the clear-thinking boss drove straight to his point. He looked intently +at the caller and asked: "Where were you on the night of the storm, at +the time the bank was robbed?" + +"Upstairs playin' cards with Harry." + +"Do you know where Long and Thompson were at that time?" + +"Shore; they was upstairs." + +"I am going to surprise you," said Kane, smiling, and he did, for he +told his listener where he had been on that night, what he had seen, +and what he had found in the morning in front of the door of Bill +Long's door. He did it so well that the listener began to believe that +it was so, and said as much. + +"That's just what you must believe," exclaimed Kane. "Go over it again +and again. Picture it, with natural details, over and over again. Live +every minute, every step of it. If you forget anything about it come +to me and I'll refresh your memory. I'll do so anyway, when the time +comes. You may go." + +The second and third man came, learned their lessons and departed. The +fourth, a grade higher in intelligence, was given a more difficult task +and before he was dismissed Kane went to a safe, took out a bundle of +large bills and handed two of them to his visitor, who nodded, pocketed +them and departed. He was to plant them, find them again and return +them so that the latter part of the operation would be clear in his +memory. + +Supper was over and the big room crowded. Jokes and laughter sounded +over the quiet curses of the losers. Bill Long, straddling a chair, +with his arms crossed on its back, watched a game and exchanged banter +with the players during the deals. Red Thompson, playing in another +game not far away, was winning slowly but consistently. Somebody +started a night-herding song and others joined in, making the ceiling +ring. Busy bartenders were endeavoring to supply the demand. The song +roared through the first verse and the second, and in the middle of +the following chorus, at the first word of the second line there was a +sudden, concerted movement, and chaos reigned. + +Unexpectedly attacked by half a dozen men each Bill and Red fought +valiantly but vainly. In Bill's group two men had been told off to go +for his guns, one to each weapon, and they had dived head-first at the +signal. Red's single gun had been obtained in the same way. Stamping +feet, curses, grunts, groans, the soft sound of fist on flesh, the +scraping of squirming masses of men going this way and that, the heavy +breathing and other sounds of conflict filled the dusty, smoky air. +Chairs crashed, tables toppled and were wrecked by the surging groups +and then, suddenly, the turmoil ceased and the two bound, battered, +and exhausted men swayed dizzily in the hands of their captors, their +chests rising and falling convulsively beneath their ragged shirts as +they gulped the foul air. + +Two men rocked on the floor, slobbering over cracked shins, another +lay face down across the wreck of a chair, his gory face torn from +mouth to cheekbone; another held a limp and dangling arm, cursing with +monotonous regularity; a fifth, blood pouring from his torn scalp and +blinding him, groped aimlessly around the room. + +Corwin glanced around, shook his head and looked at his two prisoners +in frank admiration. "You fellers shore can lick h--l out of th' man +that invented fightin'!" + +Bill Long glared at him. "I didn't see--you--nowhere near!" he +panted. "Turn us--loose--an' we'll clean--out th' place. We +was--two-thirds--licked before we--knew it was comin'." + +"Don't waste yore--breath on th'--d--d -- --" snarled Red. "There's a +few I'm aimin' to--kill when I--get th' chance!" + +"What's th' meanin' of--this surprise party?" asked Bill Long. + +"It means that you an' Thompson are under arrest for robbin' th' bank; +an' you for th' murder of Ridley," answered the peace officer, frowning +at the ripple of laughter which arose. A pock-marked Mexican, whose +forehead bore a crescent-shaped scar, seemed to be unduly hilarious and +vastly relieved about something. + +Thorpe came swiftly across the room toward Bill Long, snarled a curse, +and struck with vicious energy at the bruised face. Bill rolled his +head and the blow missed. Before the assailant could recover his +balance and strike again a brawny, red-haired giant, whose one good eye +glared over a battered nose, lunged swiftly forward and knocked Thorpe +backwards over a smashed chair and overturned table. The prostrate man +groped and half arose, to look dazedly into the giant's gun and hear +the holder of it give angry warning. + +"Any more of that an' I'll blow you apart!" roared the giant. "An' +that goes for any other skunk in th' room. Bear-baitin' is barred." He +looked at Corwin. "You've got 'em--now get 'em out of here an' into +jail, before I has to kill somebody!" + +Corwin called to his men and with the prisoners in the middle the +little procession started for the old adobe jail on the next street, +the pleased sheriff bringing up the rear, his Colt swinging in his +hand. When the prisoners had been locked up behind its thick walls he +sighed with relief, posted two guards, front and rear, and went back to +report to Kane that a good job had been well done. + +The boss nodded and bestowed one of his rare compliments. "That was +well handled, Sheriff," he said. "I am sorry your work is not yet +finished. A zealous peace officer like you should be proud enough +of such a capture as to be anxious to inform those most interested. +Also," he smiled, "you naturally would be anxious to put in a claim +for the reward. Therefore you should go right down to McCullough and +lay the entire matter before him, as I shall now instruct you," and +the instructions were as brief as thoroughness would allow. "Is that +clear?" asked the boss at the end of the lesson. + +"It ain't only clear," enthused Corwin; "but it's gilt-edged; I'm on my +way, now!" + +"Report to me before morning," said Kane. + +Hurrying from the room and the building the sheriff saddled his +horse and rode briskly down the trail. Not far from town he began to +whistle and he kept it up purposely as a notification of peaceful and +honorable intentions, until the sharp challenge of a hidden sentry +checked both it and his horse. + +"Sheriff Corwin," he answered. "What you holdin' _me_ up for?" + +A man stepped out of the cover at the edge of the trail. "Got a match?" +he pleasantly asked, the rifle hanging from the crook of his arm, both +himself and the weapon hidden from the sheriff by the darkness. "Where +you goin' so late? Thought everybody was asleep but me." + +Corwin handed him the match. "Just ridin' down to see McCullough. +Got important business with him, an' reckoned it shouldn't wait 'til +mornin'." + +The sentry rolled a cigarette and lit it with the borrowed match in +such a way that the sheriff's face was well lighted for the moment, but +he did not look up. "That's good," he said. "Reckon I'll go along with +you. No use hangin' 'round up here, an' I'm shore sleepy. Wait till +I get my cayuse," and he disappeared, soon returning in the saddle. +His quiet friend in the brush settled back to resume the watch and to +speculate on how long it would take his companion to return. + +McCullough, half undressed, balanced himself as he heard approaching +voices, growled profanely and put the freed leg in the trousers. He was +ready for company when one of the night shift stuck his head in at the +door. + +"Sheriff Corwin wants to see you," said the puncher. "His business is +so delicate it might die before mornin'." + +"All right," grumbled the trail-boss. "If you get out of his way mebby +he can come in." + +Corwin stood in the vacated door, smiling, but too wise to offer his +hand to the blunt, grim host. "Got good news," he said, "for you, me, +an' th' T & C." + +"Ya-as?" drawled McCullough, peering out beneath his bushy, gray +eyebrows. "Pecos Kane shoot hisself?" + +"We got th' fellers that robbed th' bank an' shot Ridley," said the +sheriff. + +"The h--l you say!" exclaimed McCullough. "Come in an' set down. Who +are they? How'd you get 'em?" + +"That reward stick?" asked Corwin anxiously. + +"Tighter'n a tick to a cow!" emphatically replied the trail-boss. "Who +are they?" + +"I got a piece of paper here," said the sheriff, proving his words. +He stepped inside and placed it on the table. "Read it over an' sign +it. Then I'll fill in th' blanks with th' names of th' men. If they're +guilty, I'm protected; if I've made a mistake, then there's no harm +done." + +McCullough slowly read it aloud: + + "'Sheriff Corwin was the first man to tell me that ---- and ---- + robbed the Mesquite bank, and that ---- killed Tom Ridley. He will + produce the prisoners, with the witnesses and other proof in Sandy + Bend upon demand. If they are found guilty of the crime named the + rewards belong to him.'" + +The trail-boss considered it thoughtfully. "It looks fair; but there's +one thing I don't like, Sheriff," he said, putting his finger on the +objectionable words and looking up. "I don't like 'Sandy Bend.' I'm +takin' no chances with them fellers. I'll just scratch that out, an' +write in, 'to me' How 'bout it?" + +"They've got to have a fair trial," replied Corwin. "I'm standin' for +no lynchin'. I can't do it." + +"Yo're shore right they're goin' to have a fair trial!" retorted the +trail-boss. "Twitchell ain't just lookin' for two men--he wants th' +ones that robbed th' bank an' killed Ridley. You don't suppose he's +payin' five thousan' out of his pocket for somebody that ain't guilty, +do you? Why, they're goin' to have such a fair trial that you'll need +all th' evidence you can get to convict 'em. Lynch 'em?" He laughed +sarcastically. "They won't even be jailed in Sandy Bend, where they +shore _would_ be lynched. You take 'em to Sandy Bend an' you'll be +lynched out of yore reward. You know how it reads." + +Corwin scratched his head and a slow grin spread over his face. "Cuss +it, I never saw it that way," he admitted. "I guess yo're shoutin' +gospel, Mac; but, cuss it, it ain't reg'lar." + +"You know me; an' I know you," replied the trail-boss, smiling. +"There's lots of little things done that ain't exactly reg'lar; but +they're plumb sensible. Suppose I change this here paper like I said, +an' sign it. Then you write in th' names an' let me read 'em. Then you +let me know what proof you got, an' bring down th' prisoners, an' I'll +sign a receipt for 'em." + +"Yes!" exclaimed Corwin. "I'll deputize you, an' give 'em into yore +custody, with orders to take 'em to Sandy Bend, or any other jail which +you think best. That makes it more reg'lar, don't it?" he smiled. + +McCullough laughed heartily and slapped his thigh. "That's shore more +reg'lar. I'm beginnin' to learn why they elected you sheriff. All +right, then; I'm signin' my name." He took pen and ink from a shelf, +made the change in the paper, sprawled his heavy-handed signature +across the bottom and handed the pen to Corwin. "Now, d--n it: Who are +they?" + +The sheriff carefully filled in the three blanks, McCullough peering +over his shoulder and noticing that the form had been made out by +another hand. + +"There," said Corwin. "I'm spendin' that five thousand right now." + +"'Bill Long'--'Red Thompson'--'Bill Long' again," growled the +trail-boss. "Never heard of 'em. Live around here?" + +Corwin shook his head. "No." + +"All right," grunted McCullough. "Now, then; what proof you got? You'll +never spend a cent of it if you ain't got 'em cold." + +Corwin sat on the edge of the table, handed a cigar to his host and +lit his own. "I got a man who was in th' north stable, behind Kane's, +when th' shot that killed Ridley was fired from th' other stable. He +was feedin' his hoss an' looked out through a crack, seein' Long sneak +out of th' other buildin', Sharp's in hand, an' rustle for cover around +to th' gamblin'-hall. Another man was standin' in th' kitchen, gazin' +out of th' winder, an' saw Long turn th' corner of th' north stable an' +dash for th' hotel buildin'. He says he laughed because Long's slight +limp made him sort of bob sideways. An' we know why Long done it, but +we're holdin' that back. That's for th' killin'." + +"Now for th' robbery: I got th' man that saw Long an' Thompson sneak +out of th' front door of th' dinin'-room hall into that roarin' sand +storm between eleven an' twelve o'clock on th' night of th' robbery. He +says he remembers it plain because he was plumb surprised to see sane +men do a fool thing like that. He didn't say nothin' to 'em because +if they wanted to commit suicide it was their own business. Besides, +they was strangers to him. After awhile he went up to bed, but couldn't +sleep because of th' storm makin' such a racket. Kane's upstairs rocked +a little that night. I know, because I was up there, tryin' to sleep." + +"Go on," said the trail-boss, eagerly and impatiently, his squinting +eyes not leaving the sheriff's face. + +"Well, quite some time later he heard th' door next to his'n open +cautious, but a draft caught it an' slammed it shut. Then Bill Long's +voice said, angry an' sharp: 'What th' h--l you doin', Red? Tellin' +creation about it?' In th' mornin', th' cook, who gets up ahead of +everybody else, of course, was goin' along th' hall toward th' stairs +an' he kicks somethin' close to Long's door. It rustles an' he gropes +for it, curious-like, an' took it downstairs with him for a look at it, +where it wasn't so dark. It was a strip of paper that th' bank puts +around packages of bills, an' there was some figgers on it. He chucks +it in a corner, where it fell down behind some stuff that had been +there a long time, an' don't think no more about it till he hears about +th' bank bein' robbed. Then he fishes it out an' brings it to me. I +knowed what it was, first glance." + +"Any more?" urged McCullough. "It's _good_; but, you got any more?" + +"I shore have. What you think I'm sheriff for? I got two of th' bills, +an' their numbers tally with th' bank's numbers of th' missin' money. +You can compare 'em with yore own list later. I sent a deputy to their +rooms as soon as I had 'em in jail, an' he found th' bills sewed up +in their saddle pads. Reckon they was keepin' one apiece in case they +needed money quick. An' when th' sand was swept off th' step in front +of that hall door, a gold piece was picked up out of it." + +"When were you told about all this by these fellers?" demanded the +trail-boss. + +"As soon as th' robbery was known, an' as soon as th' shootin' of +Ridley was known!" + +"When did you arrest them?" + +"Last night; an' it was shore one big job. They can fight like a passel +of cougars. Don't take no chances with 'em, Mac." + +"Why did you wait till last night?" demanded McCullough. "Wasn't you +scared they'd get away?" + +"No. I had 'em trailed every place they went. They wasn't either of +'em out of our sight for a minute; an' when they slept there was men +watchin' th' stairs an' their winders. You see, Kane lost a lot of +money in that robbery, bein' a director; an' I was hopin' they'd try to +sneak off to where they cached it an' give us a chance to locate it. +They was too wise. I got more witnesses, too; but they're Greasers, an' +I ain't puttin' no stock in 'em. A Greaser'd lie his own mother into +her grave for ten dollars; anyhow, most juries down here think so, so +it's all th' same." + +"Yes; lyin' for pay is shore a Greaser trick," said McCullough, +nodding. "Well, I reckon it's only a case of waitin' for th' reward, +Sheriff. Tell you what I wish you'd do: Gimme everythin' they own when +you send 'em down to me, or when I come up for 'em, whichever suits you +best. Everythin' has got to be collected now before it gets lost, an' +it's got to be ready for court in case it's needed." + +"All right; I'll get back what I can use, after th' trial," replied +Corwin. "I'll throw their saddles on their cayuses, an' let 'em ride +'em down. How soon do you want 'em? Right away?" + +"First thing in th' mornin'!" snapped McCullough. "Th' sooner th' +better. I'll send up some of th' boys to give you a hand with 'em, or +I'll take 'em off yore hands entirely at th' jail. Which suits you?" + +"Send up a couple of yore men, if you want to. It'll look better in +town if I deliver 'em to you here. Why, you ain't smoked yore cigar!" + +McCullough looked at him and then at his own hand, staring at the +crushed mass of tobacco in it. "Shucks!" he grunted, apologetically, +and forthwith lied a little himself. "Funny how a man forgets when he's +excited. I bet that cigar thought it was in a vise--my hand's tired +from squeezin'." + +"Sorry I ain't got another, Mac," said Corwin, grinning, as he paused +in the door. "I'll be lookin' for yore boys early. _Adios._" + +"_Adios_," replied McCullough from the door, listening to the dying +hoofbeats going rapidly toward town. Then he shut the door, hurled the +remains of the cigar on the floor and stepped on them. "He's got 'em, +huh? An' strangers, too! He's got 'em too d--d pat for me. It takes +a good man to plaster a lie on me an' make it stick--an' he ain't +no good, at all. He was sweatin' before he got through!" Again the +trousers came off, all the way this time, and the lamp was turned down. +As he settled into his bunk he growled again. "Well, I'll have a look +at 'em, anyhow, an' send 'em down for Twitchell to look at," and in +another moment he was asleep. + + + + + CHAPTER XII + + FRIENDS ON THE OUTSIDE + + +While events were working out smoothly for the arrest of the two men +in Kane's gambling-hall, four friends were passing a quiet evening in +Quayle's barroom, but the quiet was not to endure. + +With lagging interest in the game Idaho picked up his cards, ruffled +them and listened. "Reckon that's singin'," he said in response to the +noise floating down from the gambling-hall. "Sounds more like a bunch +of cows bawlin' for their calves. Kane's comin' to life later'n usual. +Wonder if Thorpe's joinin' in?" he asked, and burst out laughing. "Next +to our hard-workin' sheriff there ain't nobody in town that I'd rather +see eat dirt than him. Wish I could 'a' seen him a-climbin' that wall!" + +"Annybody that works for Kane eats dirt," commented Quayle. "They has +to. He'll learn how to eat it, too, th' blackguard." + +"There goes _somethin'_," said Ed Doane as the distant roaring ceased +abruptly. "Reckon Thorpe's makin' another try at th' wall." He laughed +softly. "They're startin' a fandango, by th' sound of it." + +"'Tis nothin' to th' noise av a good Irish reel," deprecated the +proprietor. + +"I'm claimin' low this hand," grunted Idaho. "Look out for yore jack." + +Johnny smiled, played and soon a new deal was begun. + +"Th' dance is over, too," said Doane, mopping off the bar for the third +time in ten minutes. "Must 'a' been a short one." + +"Some of them _hombres_ will dance shorter than that, an' harder," +grunted Idaho, "th' next time they pay _us_ a visit. They didn't get +many head th' last time, an' I'm sayin' they'll get none at all th' +next time. Where they take 'em to is more'n we can guess: th' tracks +just die. Not bein' able to track 'em, we're aimin' to stop it at th' +beginnin'. You fellers wait, an' you'll see." + +Quayle grunted expressively. "I been waitin' too long now. Wonder why +nobody ever set fire to Kane's. 'Twould be a fine sight." + +"You'll mebby see that, too, one of these nights," growled the puncher. + +"Then pick out wan when th' wind is blowin' _up_ th' street," chuckled +Quayle. "This buildin' is so dry it itches to burn. I'm surprised +it ain't happened long ago, with that Mick in th' kitchen raisin' +th' divvil with th' stove. If I didn't have a place av me own I'd be +tempted to do it meself." + +The bartender laughed shortly. "If McCullough happens to think of it I +reckon it'll be done." He shook out the bar cloth and bunched it again. +"Funny he ain't cut loose yet. That ain't like him, at all." + +"Waitin' for th' rewards to start workin', I reckon," said Johnny. + +Idaho scraped up the cards, shaped them into a sheersided deck and +pushed it aside. "I'm tired of this game; it's too even. Reckon I'll +go up an' take a look at Kane's." He arose and sauntered out, paused, +and looked up the street. "Cussed if they ain't havin' a pe-rade," he +called. "This ain't th' Fourth of July, is it? I'm goin' up an' sidle +around for a closer look. Be back soon." + +Johnny was vaguely perturbed. The sudden cessation of the song bothered +him, and the uproar which instantly followed it only served to increase +his uneasiness. Ordinarily he would not have been affected, but the +day's events might have led to almost anything. Had a shot been fired +he swiftly would have investigated, but the lack of all shooting +quieted his unfounded suspicions. Idaho's remark about the parade +renewed them and after a short, silent argument with himself he arose, +went to the door and looked up the street, seeing the faint, yellow +patch on the sand where Kane's lamps shown through the open door and +struggled against the surrounding darkness, and hearing the faint +rumble of voices above which rang out frequent laughter. He grimly told +himself that there would be no laughter in Kane's if his two friends +had come to any harm, and there would have been plenty of shooting. + +"Annythin' to see?" asked Quayle, poking his head out of the door. + +"No," answered Johnny, turning to reenter the building. "Just feelin' +their oats, I reckon." + +"'Tis feelin' their _ropes_ they should be doin'," replied Quayle, +stepping back to let his guest pass through. "An' 'twould be fine +humor to swing 'em from their own. Hist!" he warned, listening to the +immoderate laughter which came rapidly nearer. "Here's Idaho; he'll +know it all." + +Idaho popped in and in joyous abandon threw his sombrero against the +ceiling. "Funniest thing you ever heard!" he panted. "Corwin's arrested +that Bill Long an' Red Thompson. Took a full dozen to do it, an' half +of 'em are cripples now. Th' pe-rade I saw was Corwin an' a bunch +escortin' 'em over to th' jail. Ain't we got a rip-snortin' fool for a +sheriff?" His levity died swiftly, to give way to slowly rising anger. +"With this country fair crowded with crooks he can't find nobody to +throw in jail except two friendless strangers! D--n his hide, I got a +notion to pry 'em out and turn 'em loose before mornin', just to make +things right, an' take some of th' swellin' out of his flat head. It's +a cussed shame." + +The low-pulled brim of Johnny's sombrero hid the glint in his eyes +and the narrowed lids. He relaxed and sat carelessly on the edge +of a table, one leg swinging easily to and fro as conjecture after +conjecture rioted through his mind. + +"They must 'a' stepped on Kane's toes," said Ed, vigorously wiping off +the backbar. + +Idaho scooped up his hat and flung it on the table at Johnny's side. +"You'd never guess it, Ed. Even th' rest of th' gang was laughin' about +it, all but th' cripples. I been waitin' for them rewards to start +workin,' but I never reckoned they'd work out like this. Long an' +Thompson are holdin' th' sack. They're scapegoats for th' whole cussed +gang. Corwin took 'em in for robbin' th' bank, an' gettin' Ridley!" + +Ed Doane dropped the bar cloth and stared at the speaker and a red +tide crept slowly up his throat and spread across his face. Johnny slid +from the table and disappeared in the direction of his room. He came +down again with the two extra Colts in his hands, slipped through the +kitchen and ran toward the jail. Quayle's mouth slowly closed and then +let out an explosive curse. The bartender brought his fist down on the +bar with a smash. + +"Scapegoats? Yo're right! It's a cold deck--an' you bet Kane never +would 'a' dealt from it if he wasn't dead shore he could make th' play +stick. Every man in th' pack will swear accordin' to orders, an' who +can swear th' other way? It'll be a strange jury, down in Sandy Bend, +every man jack of it a friend of Ridley an' th' T & C. Well, I'm a +peaceable man, but this is too much. I never saw them fellers before +in my life; but on th' day when Corwin starts south with 'em I'll be +peaceable no longer--an' I've got friends! There's no tellin' who'll be +next if he makes this stick. Who's with me?" + +"_I_ am," said Quayle; "an' _I_ got friends." + +"Me, too," cried Idaho. "There's a dozen hickory knots out on th' ranch +that hate Corwin near as much as I do. They'll be with us, mebby even +Lukins, hisself. Hey! Where'd Nelson go?" he excitedly demanded. "Mebby +he's out playin' a lone hand!" and he darted for the kitchen. + +Johnny, hidden in the darkness not far from the jail, was waiting. +The escort, judging from the talk and the glowing ends of cigarettes, +was bunched near the front of the building, little dreaming how close +they stood to a man who held four Colts and was fighting down a rage +which urged their use. At last, thoroughly master of itself, Johnny's +mind turned to craftiness rather than to blind action and formulated +a sketchy plan. But while the plan was being carried through he would +not allow his two old friends to be entirely helpless. Slipping off his +boots he crept up behind the jail and with his kerchief lowered the two +extra guns through the window, softly calling attention to them, which +redoubled the prisoners' efforts to untie each other. Satisfied now +that they were in no immediate danger he slipped back to his boots, put +them on and waited to see what would happen, and to listen further. + +"There ain't no use watchin' th' jail," said a voice, louder than the +rest. "They're tied up proper, an' nobody ever got out of it before." + +"Just th' same, you an' Harry will watch it," said Corwin. "Winder an' +door. I ain't takin' no chances with this pair." + +A thickening on the dark ground moved forward slowly and a low voice +called Johnny's name. He replied cautiously and soon Idaho crawled to +his side, whispering questions. + +"Go back where there ain't no chance of anybody hearin' us, or +stumblin' over us," said Johnny. "When that gang leaves there won't be +so much noise, an' then they may hear us." + +At last reaching an old wagon they stood up and leaned against it, and +Johnny unburdened his heart to a man he knew he could trust. + +"Idaho," he said, quietly, "them fellers are th' best friends I ever +had. They cussed near raised me, an' they risked their lives more'n +once to save mine. 'Most everythin' I know I got from them, an' they +ain't goin' to stay in that mud hut till mornin', not if I die for it. +They come down here to help me, an' I'm goin' to get 'em out. Did you +ever hear of th' old Bar-20, over in th' Pecos Valley?" + +"I shore did," answered Idaho. "Why?" + +"I was near raised on it. Bill Long is Hopalong Cassidy, an' Red +Thompson is Red Connors, th' whitest men that ever set a saddle. Rob a +bank, an' shoot a man from _behind_! Did Bill Long act like a man that +had to shoot in th' back when he made Thorpe climb his own wall, with +his own crowd lookin' on? Most of their lives has been spent fightin' +Kane's kind; an' no breed of pups can hold 'em while I'm drawin' my +breath. It's only how to do it th' best way that's botherin' me. I've +slipped 'em a pair of guns, so I got a little time to think. Why, cuss +it: Hoppy knows th' skunk that got Ridley! An' before we're through +we'll know who robbed th' bank, an' hand 'em over to Mac. That's what's +keepin' th' three of us here!" + +"Bless my gran'mother's old gray cat!" breathed Idaho. "No wonder they +pulled th' string! I'm sayin' Kane's got hard ridin' ahead. Say, can I +tell th' boys at th' ranch?" + +"Tell 'em nothin' that you wouldn't know except for me tellin' you," +replied Johnny. "I know they're good boys; but they might let it slip. +Me an' Hoppy an' Red are aimin' for them rewards--an' we're goin' to +get 'em both." + +"It's a plumb lovely night," muttered Idaho. "Nicest night I think I +ever saw. I don't want no rewards, but I just got to get my itchin' +paws into what's goin' on around this town. An' it's a lovely town. +Nicest town I think I ever was in. That 'dobe shack ain't what it once +was. I know, because, not bein' friendly with th' sheriff, an' not +bein' able to look all directions at once, I figgered I might be in +it, myself, some day. So I've looked it over good, inside an' out. Th' +walls are crumbly, an' th' bars in th' window are old. There's a waggin +tongue in Pete Jarvis' freight waggin that's near twelve foot long, an' +a-plenty thick. Ash, I think it is; that or oak. Either's good enough. +If it was shoved between th' bars an' then pushed sideways that jail +wouldn't be a jail no more. If Pete ain't taken th' waggin to bed with +him, bein' so proud of it, we can crack that little hazelnut. I'm goin' +back an' see how many are still hangin' around." + +"I'm goin' back to th' hotel, so I'll be seen there," said Johnny. + +"I'll do th' same, later," replied his friend as they separated. + +Quayle was getting rid of some of his accumulated anger, which +reflection had caused to soar up near the danger point. "Tom Ridley +wasn't killed by no strangers!" he growled, banging the table with his +fist. "I can name th' man that done it by callin' th' roll av Kane's +litter; an' I'll be namin' th' bank robbers in th' same breath." He +looked around as Johnny entered the room. "An' what did ye find, lad?" + +"Idaho was right. They've got 'em in th' jail." + +"An' if I was as young a man as you," said the proprietor, "they +wouldn't kape 'em there. As ut is I'm timpted to go up an' bust in th' +dommed door, before th' sheriff comes back from his ride. Tom Ridley's +murderer? Bah!" + +"Back from his ride?" questioned Johnny, quickly and eagerly. + +"Shure. He just wint down th' trail. Tellin' Mac, I don't doubt that +he's got th' men Twitchell wants. I was lookin' around when he wint +past. This is th' time, lad. I'll help ye by settin' fire to Red +Frank's corral if th' jail's watched. It'll take their attention. Or +I'll lug me rifle up an' cover ye while ye work." He arose and went +into the office for the weapon, Johnny following him. "There she +is--full to th' ind. An' I know her purty ways." + +"Tim," said Johnny's low voice over his shoulder. "Yo're white, clean +through. I don't need yore help, anyhow, not right now. An' because you +are white I'm goin' to tell you somethin' that'll please you, an' give +me one more good friend in this rotten town. Bill Long an' Red Thompson +are friends of mine. They did not rob th' bank, nor shoot Ridley; but +Bill knows who _did_ shoot Ridley. He saw him climbin' out of Kane's +south stable while th' smoke was still comin' from th' gun that shot +yore friend. I can put my hand on th' coyote in five minutes. Th' three +of us are stayin' here to get that man, th' man who robbed th' bank, +an' Pecos Kane. I'm tellin' you this because I may need a good friend +in Mesquite before we're through." + +Quayle had wheeled and gripped his shoulder with convulsive force. +"Ah!" he breathed. "Come on, lad; point him out! Point him out for Tim +Quayle, like th' good lad ye are!" + +"Do you want him so bad that yo're willin' to let th' real killer get +away?" asked Johnny. "You only have to wait an' we'll get both." + +"What d'ye mean?" + +"You don't believe he shot Ridley without bein' told to do it, do you?" + +"Kane told him; I know it as plain as I know my name." + +"Knowin' ain't provin' it, an' provin' it is what we got to do." + +"'Tis th' curse av th' Irish, jumpin' first an' thinkin' after," +growled Quayle. "Go wan!" + +"Yo're friends with McCullough," said Johnny. "Mac knows a little; an' +I'm near certain he's heard of Hopalong Cassidy an' Red Connors, of th' +Bar-20. Don't forget th' names: Hopalong Cassidy an' Red Connors, of +th' old Bar-20 in th' Pecos Valley. Buck Peters was foreman. I want you +to go down an' pay him a friendly visit, and tell him this," and Quayle +listened intently to the message. + +"Bye," chuckled the proprietor, "ye leave Mac to me. We been friends +for years, an' Tom Ridley was th' friend of us both. But, lad, ye may +die; an' Bill Long may die--life is uncertain annywhere, an' more so in +Mesquite, these days. If yer a friend av Tim Quayle, slip me th' name +av th' man that murdered Ridley. I promise ye to kape han's off--an' I +want no reward. But it fair sickens me to think his name may be lost. +Tom was like a brother." + +"If you knew th' man you couldn't hold back," replied Johnny. "Here: +I'll tell Idaho, an' Ed Doane. If Bill an' I go under they'll give you +his description. I don't know his name." + +"Th' offer is a good wan; but Tim Quayle never broke his word to anny +man an' there's nothin' on earth or in hiven I want so much as to +know who murdered Tom Ridley. I pass ye my word with th' sign av th' +cross, on th' witness of th' Holy Virgin, an' on th' mem'ry av Tom +Ridley--I'll stay me hand accordin' to me promise." + +Johnny looked deeply into the faded blue eyes through the tears which +filmed them. He gripped the proprietor's hand and leaned closer. "A +Greaser with a pock-marked face, an' a crescent-shaped scar over his +right eye. He is about my height an' drags one foot slightly when he +walks." + +"Aye, from th' ball an' chain!" muttered Quayle. "I know th' scut! +Thank ye, lad: I can sleep better nights. An' I can wait as no Irishman +ever waited before. Annythin' Tim Quayle has is yourn; yourn an' yore +friends. I'll see Mac tomorrow. Good night." He cuddled the rifle and +went toward the stairs, but as he put his foot on the first step he +stopped, turned, and went to a chair in a corner. "I'm forgettin'," he +said, simply. "Ye may need me," and he leaned back against the wall, +closing his eyes, an expression of peace on his wrinkled face. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII + + OUT AND AWAY + + +Idaho slipped out of the darkness of the kitchen and appeared in the +door. "All right, Nelson," he called. "There's two on guard an' th' +rest have left. They ain't takin' their job any too serious, neither. +Just one apiece," he chuckled. + +Johnny looked at the proprietor. "Got any rope, Tim?" he asked. + +"Plenty," answered Quayle, arising hastily and leading the way toward +the kitchen. Supplying their need he stood in the door and peered into +the darkness after them. "Good luck, byes," he muttered. + +Pete Jarvis was proud of his new sixteen-foot freighter and he must +have turned in his sleep when two figures, masked to the eyes by +handkerchiefs, stole into his yard and went off with the heavy wagon +tongue. They carried it up to the old wagon near the jail, where they +put it down, removed their boots, and went on without it, reaching the +rear wall of the jail without incident, where they crouched, one at +each corner, and smiled at the conversation going on. + +"I'm hopin' for a look at yore faces," said Red's voice, "to see what +they looked like before I get through with 'em, if I ever get my +chance. Come in, an' be sociable." + +"Yo're doin' a lot of talkin' _now_, you red-headed coyote," came the +jeering reply. "But how are you goin' to talk to th' judge?" + +"Bring some clean straw in th' mornin'," said Bill Long, "or we'll bust +yore necks. Manure's all right for Greasers, an' you, but we're white +men. Hear me chirp, you mangy pups?" + +"It's good enough for you!" snapped a guard. "I was goin' to get you +some, but now you can rot, for all I care!" + +Johnny backed under the window, raised up and pressed his face against +the rusty bars. "It's th' Kid," he whispered. "Are you untied yet?" + +The soft answer pleased him and he went back to his corner of the +wall, where he grudged every passing minute. He had decided to wait +no longer, but to risk the noise of a shot if the unsuspecting guards +could get a gun out quickly enough, and he was about to tell Idaho of +the change in the plans when the words of a guard checked him. + +"Guess I'll walk around again," said one of them, arising slowly. +"Gettin' cramped, an' sleepy, settin' here." + +"You spit in that window again an' I'll bust yore neck!" said Red's +angry voice, whereupon Johnny found a new pleasure in doing his duty. + +"You ain't bustin' nobody, or nothin'," jeered the guard, "'less it's +th' rope yo're goin' to drop on." He yawned and stretched and sauntered +along the side of the building, turned the corner and then raised his +hands with a jerk as a Colt pushed into his stomach and a hard voice +whispered terse instructions, which he instantly obeyed. "You fellers +ain't so bad, at that," he said, with only a slight change in his +voice; "but yo're shore playin' in hard luck." + +"Keep yore sympathy to yoreself!" angrily retorted Bill Long. + +Idaho, having unbuckled the gun-belt and laid it gently on the ground, +swiftly pulled the victim's arms down behind his back and tied the +crossed wrists. Johnny now got busy with ropes for his feet, and a gag, +and they soon laid him close to the base of the wall, and crept toward +the front of the building, one to each wall. Johnny tensed himself as +Idaho sauntered around the other corner. + +"Makin' up with 'em?" asked the guard, ironically. "You don't want to +let 'em throw a scare into you. They'll never harm nobody no more." He +lazily arose to stretch his legs on a turn around the building. "You +listen to what _I_'m goin' to tell 'em," he said. Then he squawked and +went down with Johnny on his back, Idaho's dive coming a second later. +A blow on his head caused him to lose any impertinent interest which +he might have had in subsequent events and soon he, too, lay along the +base of the rear wall, bound, gagged, and helpless. + +"I near could feel th' jar of that in here," said Red's cheerful voice. +"I'm hopin' it was th' coyote that spit through th' window. What's +next?" he asked, on his feet and pulling at bars. He received no answer +and commented upon that fact frankly and profusely. + +"Shut yore face," growled Bill, working at his side. "He's hatchin' +somethin' under his hat." + +"Somethin' hatchin' all over me," grunted Red, stirring restlessly. +"I'm a heap surprised this old mud hut ain't walkin' off some'ers." + +Bill squirmed. "You ain't got no call to put on no airs," he retorted. +"Mine's been hatched a long time. I wouldn't let a dog lay on straw as +rotten as that stuff. Oh!" he gloated. "Somebody's shore goin' to pay +for this little party!" + +"Wish th' sheriff would open that outside door about now," chuckled +Red, balancing his six-chambered gift "I'd make him pop-eyed." + +Hurrying feet, booted now, came rapidly nearer and soon the +square-cornered end of a seasoned wagon tongue scraped on the adobe +window ledge. Bill Long grabbed it and drew it between two of the bars. + +"Go toward th' south," he said. "That's th' boy! Listen to 'em +scrape!" he exulted. "Go ahead--she's startin'. I can feel th' 'dobe +crackin' between th' bars. Come back an' take th' next--you'll have a +little better swing because it's further from th' edge of th' window. +Go ahead! It's bendin' an' pullin' out at both ends. Go on! Whoop! +There goes th' 'dobe. Come back to th' middle an' use that pry as a +batterin'-ram on this bar. Steady; we'll do th' guidin'. All ready? +Then let her _go_! Fine! Try again. That's th' stuff--she's gone! Take +th' next. Ready? Let her _go_! There goes more 'dobe, on _this_ side. +Once more: Ready? Let her _go_! Good enough: Here we come." + +"Wait," said Johnny. "We'll pass one of these fellers in to you. If +we leave 'em both together they'll mebby roll together an' untie each +other." + +"Like we did," chuckled Red. + +"Give us th' first one you got," said Bill. "He's th' one that spit +through th' window. I want him to lay on this straw, too. He's tied, +an' can't scratch." + +The guard was raised to the window, pushed and pulled through it and +carelessly dumped on Red's bed, after which it did not take long for +the two prisoners to gain their freedom. + +"Good Kid!" said Bill, gripping his friend's hand. "An' you, too, +whoever you are!" + +"Don't mention no names," whispered Idaho. "We couldn't find no ear +plugs," he chuckled, shaking hands with Red. "I'm too well known in +this town. What'll we do with this coyote? Let him lay here?" + +"No," answered Johnny. "He might roll over to Red Frank's an' get help. +Picket him to a bush or cactus. Here, gimme a hand with him. I reckon +he's come to, by th' way he's bracin' hisself. Little faster--time's +flyin'. All right, put him down." Johnny busied himself with the last +piece of rope and stood up. "Come on--Kane's stables, next." + +As they crossed the street above the gambling-house, where in reality +it was a trail, Bill Long took a hand in the evening's plans. + +"Red," he said, "you go an' get our cayuses. Bring 'em right here, +where we are now, an' wait for us. Idaho, you an' Johnny come with me +an' stand under th' window of my room to take th' things I let down, +an' free th' rope from 'em. I'm cussed shore we ain't goin' to leave +all of our traps behind, not unless they been stole." + +"I like yore cussed nerve!" chuckled Idaho. "Don't blame you, though. +I'm ready." + +"His nerve's just plain gall!" snapped Red, turning to Hopalong. "Think +yo're sendin' me off to get a couple of cayuses, while yo're runnin' +that risk in there? Get th' cayuses yoreself; _I_'ll get th' fixin's!" + +"Don't waste time like this!" growled Johnny. "Do as yo're told, you +red-headed wart! Corwin will shore go to th' jail before he turns in. +Come on, Hoppy." + +"That name sounds good again," chuckled Hopalong, giving Red a shove +toward the stables. "Get them cayuses, Carrot-Top!" + +Red obeyed, but took it out in talking to himself as he went along, +and as he entered the north stable he stepped on something large and +soft, which instantly went into action. Red dropped to his knees and +clinched, getting both wrists in his hands. Being in a hurry, and +afraid of any outcry, he could not indulge in niceties, so he brought +one knee up and planted it forcefully in his enemy's stomach, threw +his weight on it and jumped up and down. Sliding his hands down the +wrists, one at a time, he found the knife and took it from the relaxing +fingers. Then he felt for the victim's jaw with one hand and hit it +with the other. Arising, he hummed a tune and soon led out the two +horses. + +"Don't like to leave th' others for them fellers to use," he growled, +and forthwith decided not to leave them. He drove them out of both +stables, mounted his own, led Hopalong's, and slowly herded the other +dozen ahead of him over the soft sand and away. When he finally reached +the agreed-upon meeting place he reflected with pleasure that anyone +wishing to use those horses for the purpose of pursuit, or any other +purpose, would first have to find, and then catch them. They were +going strong when he had last heard them. + +Idaho had stopped under the window pointed out to him, and his two +companions, leaving their boots in his tender care, were swallowed +up in the darkness. They opened the squeaking front door, cautiously +climbed the squeaking stairs and fairly oozed over the floor of the +upper hall, which wanted to squeak, and did so a very little. Hopalong +slowly opened the door of his room, thankful that he had oiled its +one musical hinge, and felt cautiously over the bed. It was empty, +and his sigh of relief was audible. And he was further relieved when +his groping hand found his possessions where he had left them. He was +stooping to loosen the coil of rope at the pommel of his saddle when he +heard a sleepy, inquiring voice and a soft thud, and anxiously slipped +to the door. + +"Kid!" he whispered. "_Kid!_" + +"Shut yore fool face," replied the object of his solicitude, striking +a match for one quick glance around. The room was strange to him, +since he never had been in it before, and he had to get his bearings. +The inert man on the bed did not get a second glance, for the sound +and weight of the blow had reassured Johnny. There were two saddles, +two rifles, two of everything, which was distressing under the +circumstances. + +Hopalong had just lowered his own saddle to the waiting Idaho when the +catlike Johnny entered the room with a saddle and a rifle. He placed +them on the bed, where they would make no noise, and departed, catlike. +Soon returning he placed another saddle and rifle on the bed and +departed once more. + +Hopalong, having sent down both of Johnny's first offerings, felt over +the bed for the rest of Red's belongings, if there were any more, and +became profanely indignant as his hand caressed another rifle and then +bumped against another saddle. + +"What'n h--l is he doin'?" he demanded. "My G--d! There's more'n a +_dozen_ rooms on this floor, an' men in all of 'em! Hey, Kid!" he +whispered as breathing sounded suddenly close to him. + +"What?" asked Johnny, holding two slicker rolls, a sombrero, a pair of +boots, and a suit of clothes. Two belts with their six-guns were slung +around his neck, but the darkness mercifully hid the sight from his +friend. + +"D--n it! We ain't _movin'_ this hotel," said Hopalong with biting +sarcasm. "It don't _belong_ to us, you know. An' what was that whack I +heard when you first went in?" + +"Somebody jumped Red's bed, an' wanted to know some fool thing, or +somethin', an' I had to quiet him. An' what'n blazes are _you_ kickin' +about? I've moved _twice_ as much as you have, more'n twice as _far_. +Grab holt of some of this stuff an' send it down to Idaho. He'll think +you've went to sleep." + +"You locoed tumble-bug!" said Hopalong. "Aimin' to send down th' bed, +with th' feller in it, too?" + +A door creaked suddenly and they froze. + +"Quit yore d--d noise an' go to sleep!" growled a sleepy, truculent +voice, and the door creaked shut again. + +After a short wait in silence Hopalong put out an inquiring hand. "Come +on," he whispered. "What you got there?" + +Johnny told him, and Hopalong dropped the articles out of the window, +all but the hat, boots, and clothes. "Don't you know Red's wearin' his +clothes, boots an' hat, you chump?" he said, gratis. "Leave them things +here an' foller me," and he started for the head of the stairs. + +They were halfway down when they heard a horse galloping toward the +hotel. It was coming from the direction of the jail and they nudged +each other. + +Sheriff Corwin, feeling like he was master of all he surveyed, had +ridden to the jail before going to report to Kane for the purpose of +cautioning the guards not to relax their vigil. Not being able to +see them in the darkness meant nothing to him, for they should have +challenged him, and had not. He swept up to the door, angrily calling +them by name and, receiving no reply, dismounted in hot haste, shook +the door and then went hurriedly around the building to feel of the +bars. One sweep of his hand was enough and as he wheeled he tripped +over the wagon tongue and fell sprawling, his gun flying out of his +hand. Groping around he found it, jammed it back into the holster, +darted back to his horse and dashed off at top speed for Kane's to +spread the alarm and collect a posse. + +There never had been any need for caution in opening the hotel door +and his present frame of mind would not have heeded it if there had +been. Flinging it back he dashed through and opened his mouth to emit a +bellow calculated almost to raise the dead. The intended shout turned +to a choking gasp as two lean, strong hands gripped his throat, and +then his mental sky was filled with lightning as a gun-butt fell on +his head. His limp body was carried out and dropped at the feet of the +cheerful Idaho, who helped tear up portions of the sheriff's clothing +for his friends to use on the officer's hands, feet, and mouth. + +"Every time I hit a head I shore gloat," growled Johnny, his thoughts +flashing back to his first night in town. + +"Couldn't you send _him_ down, _too_?" Idaho asked of Hopalong. "An' +how many saddles do you an' Red use generally?" + +"He wasn't up there," answered Hopalong. "We run into him as we was +comin' out." + +Johnny's match flashed up and out in one swift movement. "Corwin!" he +exulted. "An' I'm glad it was _me_ that hit him!" + +Idaho rolled over on the ground and made strange noises. Sitting up he +gasped: "Didn't I _say_ it was a lovely night? Holy mavericks!" + +"You fellers aim to claim squatter sovereignty?" whispered Red from the +darkness. "If I'd 'a' knowed it I'd 'a' tied up somethin' I left layin' +loose." + +"We got to get a rustle on," said Hopalong. "Some cusses come to right +quick. That gent in Red's bed is due to ask a lot of questions at th' +top of his voice. Come on--grab this stuff, _pronto_!" + +"I left another in th' stable that's goin' to do some yellin' purty +soon," said Red. "Reckon he's a Greaser." + +They picked up the things and went off to find the horses and as they +dropped the equipment Red felt for his saddle. "Hey! Where's _mine_?" +he demanded. + +"Here, at my feet," said Johnny. + +Red passed his hand over it and swore heartily. "This ain't it, you +blunderin' jackass! Why didn't you get _mine_?" he growled. + +"Feel of this one," grunted Johnny, kicking the other saddle. + +Red did so. "That's it. Who's th' other belong to?" + +"_I_ don't know," answered Johnny, growing peeved. "Yo're cussed +particular, you are! Here's two rifles, two six-guns, an' two belts. +Take 'em with you an' pick out yore own when it gets light. _I_ don't +want 'em." + +Red finished cinching up and slipped a hand over the rifles. He dropped +one of them into its scabbard. "Got mine. Chuck th' other away." + +"Take it along an' chuck it in th' crick," said Idaho. "Now you fellers +listen: If you ride up th' middle of Big Crick till you come to that +rocky ground west of our place you can leave th' water there, an' yore +trail will be lost. It runs southwest an' northeast for miles, an' is +plenty wide an' wild. If you need any thin' ride in to our place any +night after dark. I'll post th' boys." + +"We ain't got a bit of grub," growled Red. "Well, it ain't th' first +time," he added, cheerfully. + +"We're not goin' up Big Crick," said Hopalong, decisively. "We're +ridin' like we wanted to get plumb out of this country, which is just +what Bill Long an' Red Thompson would do. When fur enough away we're +circlin' back east of town, on th' edge of th' desert, where nobody +will hardly think we'd go. They'll suspect that hard ground over yore +way before they will th' desert. Where'll we meet you, Kid, if there's +any thin' to be told; an' when?" + +Johnny considered and appealed to Idaho, whose knowledge of the country +qualified him to speak. In a few moments the place had been chosen and +well described, and the two horsemen pulled their mounts around and +faced northward. + +"Get a-goin'," growled Johnny. "Anybody'd reckon you thought a night +was a week long." + +"Don't like to leave you two boys alone in this town, after tonight's +plays," said Hopalong, uneasily. "Nobody is dumb enough to figger that +we didn't have outside help. Keep yore eyes open!" + +"Pull out!" snapped Johnny. "It'll be light in two hours more!" + +"So-long, you piruts," softly called Idaho. "Yessir," he muttered, +joyously; "it's been one plumb lovely night!" + +Not long after the noise of galloping had died in the north a Mexican +staggered from the stable, groping in the darkness as he made his +erratic way toward the front of the gambling-hall, his dazed wits +returning slowly. Leaning against the wall of the building for a short +rest, he went on again, both hands gripping his jaw. Too dazed to be +aware of the disappearance of the horses and attentive only to his own +woes, he blundered against the bound and gagged sheriff, went down, +crawled a few yards and then, arising again to his feet, groped around +the corner of the building and sat down against it to collect his +bewildering thoughts. + +Upstairs in the room Red had used, the restless figure on the bed moved +more and more, finally sitting up, moaning softly. Then, stiffening +as memory brought something back to him, he groped about for matches, +blundering against the walls and the scanty furniture, and called +forth profane language from the room adjoining, whose occupant, again +disturbed, arose and yanked open his door. + +"What you think yo're doin', raisin' all this racket?" he demanded. + +"Somebody near busted my head," moaned the other. "I been robbed!" he +shouted as the lack of impedimenta at last sank into his mind. + +"Say!" exclaimed his visitor, remembering an earlier nocturnal +disturbance. "Wait here till I get some matches!" + +He returned with a lighted lamp, instead, which revealed the truth, and +its bearer swiftly led the way into the second room down the hall. A +pair of boots which should not have been there and the absence of the +equipment which should have been there confirmed their fears. The man +with the lamp held it out of the window and swore under his breath as a +bound figure below him gurgled and writhed. + +"Looks like Corwin!" he muttered, and hastened down to make sure, +taking no time to dress. The swearing Mexican received no attention +until the sheriff staggered back with the investigator, and then the +vague tale was listened to. + +A bellowing voice awakened the sleepers in the big building and an +impromptu conference of irate men, mostly undressed, was held in the +hall. Sandy Woods returned from the stables, reporting them bare of +horses; the investigator from the jail came back with the angry guards, +one of whom was too shaky to walk with directness. Others came from a +visit to Red Frank's corral, leading half a dozen borrowed horses, and, +a hasty, cold breakfast eaten, the posse, led by a sick, vindictive +sheriff, pounded northward along a plain trail. + +Those who were not able to go along stood and peered through the paling +darkness and two deputies left to take up positions in the front and +rear of Quayle's hotel where they could see without being seen, while a +third man crept into the stable to look for a Tincup horse. Had he been +content with looking he would have been more fortunate, but thinking +that the master would have no further use for the animal, he decided to +take it for himself, trusting that possession would give him a better +claim when the new ownership was finally decided by Kane. Reassured by +the earliness of the hour and by the presence of the hidden deputy, he +went ahead with his plans. + +Pepper's flattened ears meant nothing to the exultant thief, for it had +been his experience that all horses flattened their ears whenever he +approached them, especially if they had reason to know him; so, with a +wary eye on the trim, black hoofs, he slipped along the stable wall to +gain her head. He had just untied the rope and started back with the +end of it in his hand when there was a sudden, sidewise, curving swerve +of the silky black body, a grunt of surprise and pain from the thief, +pinned against the wall by the impact, and then, curving back again and +wheeling almost as though on a pivot, Pepper's teeth crunched flesh and +bone and the sickened thief, by a miracle escaping the outflung front +hoofs, staggered outside the stable and fell as the whizzing hind feet +took the half-open door from its flimsy hinges. Rolling around the +corner, the thief crawled under a wagon and sank down unconscious, his +crushed shoulder staining darkly through his torn shirt. + +The watching deputy arose to go to his friend's assistance, but looked +up and stopped as a growled question came from Ed Doane's window. + +"Jim's hurt," he explained to the face behind the rifle. "Went in to +see if his cayuse had wandered in there, an' th' black near killed him. +Gimme a hand with him, will you?" + +Quayle had nearly fallen off the chair he had spent the night on when +the crash and the scream of the enraged horse awakened him. He ran to +the kitchen door, rifle in hand, and looked out, hearing the deputy's +words. + +"I'll give ye a hand," he said; "but more cheerful if it's to dig a +grave. _Mother av G--d!_" he breathed as he reached the wagon. "I'm +thinkin' it's a priest ye want, an' there's none within twinty miles." +He looked around at the forming crowd. "Get a plank," he ordered, "an' +get Doc Sharpe." + +Ed Doane, followed by Johnny and Idaho, ran from the kitchen and joined +the group. One glance and Johnny went into the stable, calling as he +entered. Patting the quivering nozzle of the black he looked at the +rope and came out again. + +"That man-killer has got to be shot," said the deputy to Ed Doane. + +"I'll kill th' man that tries it," came a quiet reply, and "the deputy +wheeled to look into a pair of frosty blue eyes. "Th' knot I tie in +halter ropes don't come loose, for Pepper will untie any common knot +an' go off huntin' for me. It was untied. If you want to back up a hoss +thief, an' mebby prove yore part in it, say that again." + +"Yo're plumb mistaken, Nelson," said the deputy. "Jim was huntin' his +own cayuse, which Long an' Thompson stampeded out of th' stable last +night. He was goin' over th' town first before he went out to look for +it on th' plain." + +"That's _good_!" sneered Johnny. "Long an' Thompson are in jail. I'm +standin' to what th' knot showed. Do you still reckon Pepper's got to +be shot?" + +"They broke out an' got away," retorted the deputy; "an' they shore as +h--l had outside help." He looked knowingly into Johnny's eyes. "Nobody +that belongs to this town would 'a' done it." + +"That's a lie," said Quayle, his rifle swinging up carelessly. "I +belong to this town, an' I'd 'a' done it, mesilf, if I'd thought av it. +Seein' that I didn't, I'm cussed glad that somewan had better wits than +me own." + +"I was aimin' to do it," said Idaho, smiling. "I was goin' out to get +th' boys, an' bust th' jail tonight. I was holdin' back a little, +though, because I was scared th' boys might get a little rough an' +lynch a few deputies. They're on set triggers these days." + +The cook started to roll up his sleeves. "I'll lick th' daylight out +av anny man that goes to harm that horse, or me name's not Murphy," he +declared, spitting. "I feed her near every mornin', an' she's gintle as +a baby lamb. But she's got a keen nose for blackguards!" + +Dr. Sharpe arrived, gave his orders and followed the bearers of the +improvised stretcher toward his house. As the crowd started to break up +Johnny looked coldly at the deputy. "You heard me," he said. "Pass th' +word along. An' if she don't kill th' next one, _I_ will!" + + * * * * * + +North of town the posse reached Big Creek and exulted as it saw the +plain prints going on from the further bank. Corwin, sitting his saddle +with a false ease, stifled a moan at every rise and fall, his head +seeming about to split under the pulsing hammer blows. When he caught +sight of the trail leading from the creek he nodded dully and spoke to +his nearest companion. + +"Leavin' th' country by th' straightest way," he growled. "It'll mebby +be a long chase, d--n 'em!" + +"They ain't got much of a start," came the hopeful reply. "We ought to +catch sight of 'em from th' top of th' divide beyond Sand Creek. It's +fair level plain for miles north of that. Their cayuses ain't no better +than ourn, an' _some_ of ourn will run theirs off their feet." + +Sand Creek came into sight before noon and when it was reached there +were no tracks on the further side. The posse was prepared for this and +split without hesitation, Corwin leading half of it west along the bank +and the other half going east. Five minutes later an exclamation caused +the sheriff to pull up and look where one of his men was pointing. A +rifle barrel projected a scant two inches from the water and the man +who rode over to it laughed as he leaned down from the saddle. + +"It lit on a ridge of gravel an' didn't slide down quite fur enough," +he called. "An' it shore is busted proper." + +"Bring it here," ordered Corwin. He took it, examined it and handed it +to the next man, whose head ached as much as his own and who would not +have been along except that his wish for revenge over-rode his good +sense. + +"That yourn?" asked the sheriff. + +The owner of the broken weapon growled. "They've plumb ruined it. It's +one more score they'll pay. Come on!" and he whirled westward. Corwin +drew his Colt and fired into the air three times at counted intervals, +and galloped after his companions when faint, answering shots sounded +from the east. + +"They're makin' for that rocky stretch," he muttered; "an' if they get +there in time they're purty safe." + +Not long after he had rejoined his friends the second part of the posse +whirled along the bank, following the trail of the first, eager to +overtake it and learn what had been discovered. + +Well to the east Hopalong and Red rode at the best pace possible in +the water of the creek, now and then turning in the saddle to look +searchingly behind them. Following the great bend of the stream they +went more and more to the south and when the shadows were long they +rode around a ridge and drew rein. Red dismounted and climbed it, +peering over its rocky backbone for minutes. Returning to his companion +he grinned cheerfully. + +"No coyotes in sight," he said. "Some went west, I reckon, an' found +that busted rifle where we planted it. No coyotes, at all; but there's +a black bear down in that little strip of timber." + +"I can eat near all of it, myself," chuckled Hopalong. "Let's camp +where we drop it. A dry wood fire won't show up strong till dark. Come +on!" + + + + + CHAPTER XIV + + THE STAKED PLAIN + + +Pecos Kane sat behind his old desk in the inner room and listened to +the reports of the night's activities, his anger steadily mounting +until ghostly flames seemed to be licking their thin tongues back +in his eyes. The jail guards had come and departed, speaking simply +and truthfully, suggesting various reasons to excuse the laxity of +their watch. The Mexican told with painful effort about the loss of +the horses, growing steadily more incoherent from the condition of +his jaw and from his own rising rage. Men came, and went out again on +various duties, one of them closely interrogating the owner of the +freight wagon, whose anger had died swiftly by the recovery of the +great tongue, which was none the worse for its usage except for certain +indentations of no moment. A friend of Quayle and hostile to Kane +and for what Kane stood for, the wagon owner allowed his replies to +be short, and yet express a proper indignation, which did not exist, +about the whole affair. When again alone in the sanctity of his home he +allowed himself the luxury of low-voiced laughter and determined to put +his crowbar where any needy individual of the future could readily find +it. + +Bill Trask, because of his short-gun expertness temporarily relieved +of guarding the partition door, led three companions toward Quayle's +hotel, his face and the faces of the others tense and determined. Two +went around to the stable, via Red Frank's and the rear street and +one of them stopped near it while the other slipped along the kitchen +wall and crouched at the edge of the kitchen door. The third man went +silently into the hotel office as Trask sauntered carelessly into the +barroom and nodded at its inmates. + +"Them fellers shore raised h--l," he announced to Ed Doane as he +motioned for a drink. + +"They did," replied Doane, spinning a glass after the sliding bottle, +after which he flung the coin into the old cigar box and assiduously +polished the bar, wondering why Trask patronized him instead of Kane's. + +"They shore had nerve," persisted the newcomer, looking at Johnny. + +"They shore did," acquiesced the man at the table, who then returned to +his idle occupation of trying to decipher the pattern of the faded-out +wall paper. Wall paper was a rarity in the town and deserved some +attention. + +"Them guards was plumb careless," said Kane's hired man. Not knowing to +whom he was speaking there was no reply, and he tried again, addressing +the bartender. + +"They was careless," replied Doane, without interest. + +Johnny was alert now, the persistent remarks awakening suspicion in his +mind, and a slight sound from the wall at his back caused him to push +his chair from the table and assume a more relaxed posture. His glance +at the lower and nearer corner of the window let him memorize its exact +position and he waited, expectant, for whatever might happen. The +surprise and capture of his two friends had worked, but that had been +the first time; there would be no second, he told himself, especially +as far as he was concerned. + +"Is th' boss in?" asked the visitor. + +"Th' boss ain't in," answered Ed Doane as Johnny glanced at the front +door, the front window and the door of the office, which the bartender +noticed. "Too dusty," said Doane, going around the bar to the front +wall and closing the window. + +"When will he be in?" + +"Dunno," grunted the bartender, once more in his accustomed place. + +"I got to see him." + +"I handle things when he ain't here," said Doane. "See me," he +suggested, looking through the door leading to the office, where he +fancied he had heard a creak. + +"Got to see him, an' _pronto_," replied the visitor. "He made some +remarks this mornin' about gettin' them fellers out. We know it was +done by somebody on th' outside, an' we got a purty good idea of who +it was since Quayle shot off his mouth. He's been gettin' too swelled +up lately. If he don't come in purty quick I'm aimin' to dig him out, +myself." + +Johnny was waiting for him to utter the cue word and knew that there +would be a slight change in facial expression, enunciation, or body +posture just before it came. He was not swallowing the suggestions that +it was Quayle who was wanted. + +"You shore picked out a real job to handle all alone," said Doane, not +letting his attention wander from the hotel office. "Any dog can dig +out a badger, but that's only th' beginnin'," he said pleasantly, his +hand on the gun which always lay under the bar. He expected a retort +to his insult, and when none came it put a keener edge to his growing +suspicions. + +"I'm diggin' him out, just th' same," said Trask. "There's law in this +town, an' everybody's on one side or th' other. Bein' a deputy it's my +job to see about them that's on th' other side. Gettin' arrested men +out of jail is serious an' I got to ask questions about it. Of course, +Quayle don't allus say what he means--we none of us do. We all like +to have our jokes; but I got to do my duty, even if it's only askin' +questions. Is he out, or layin' low?" + +"He's out," grunted Doane, "but he'll be back any minute, I reckon." + +"All right; I'll wait," said Trask, carelessly, but he tensed himself. +"How's business?" and at the words he flashed into action. + +A chair crashed and a figure leaped back from it, two guns belching +at its hips. The face and hand which popped up into the rear window +disappeared again as the smoking Colt swung past the opening and across +Johnny's body to send its second through the office doorway, and curses +answered both shots. Trask, bent over, held his right arm with his left +hand, his gun against the wall near the front door. The first shot of +Johnny's right-hand Colt had torn it from Trask's hand as it left the +holster and the second had rendered the arm useless for the moment. A +shot from the corner of the stable sang through the window and barely +missed its mark as Johnny leaned forward, but his instant reply ended +all danger from that point. + +"Trask," he said, "I'm leavin' town. I ain't got a chance among +buildin's again' pot-shooters. I'm leavin'--but th' Lord help Kane an' +his gang when I come back. You can tell him I'm comin' a-shootin'. An' +you can tell him this: I'm goin' to get him, Pecos Kane, if I has to +pull him out of his hell-hole like I pulled Thorpe. Go ahead of me to +th' stable--I'll blow you apart if any pot-shooter tries at me. G'wan!" + +Trask obeyed, the gun against his spine too eloquent a persuader to +be ignored. He knew that there were no pot-shooters yet, and he was +glad of it, for if there had been one, and his captor was killed, the +relaxation of the tense thumb holding back the hammer of a gun whose +trigger was tied back would fire the weapon. The man who held it would +fire one shot after his own death, however instantaneous it might be. + +Passing through the kitchen Johnny picked up his saddle and ordered +his captive to carry the rifle and slicker roll. They disappeared into +the stable and when they came out again Johnny ordered Trask into the +saddle, mounted behind him and rode for the arroyo which lay not far +from the hotel. At last away from the buildings he made Trask dismount, +climbed over the cantle and settled himself in the vacated saddle. + +"I'm goin' down to offer myself to McCullough," he said. "You can tell +Kane that, too. They'll need men down there, an' I'll be th' maddest +man they got. An' th' next time me an' you have any gun talk, I'm +shootin' to kill. _Adios!_" + +He left the cursing deputy and went straight for the trail, where the +rising wind played with the dust, and along it until stopped by a voice +in a barranca. + +"I'm puttin' 'em up," he called. "My name's Nelson an' I'm mad clean +through. Get a rustle on; I want to see Mac." + +"Go ahead, Bar-20," drawled the voice. "I wasn't dead shore. There's a +good friend of yourn down there." + +"Quayle?" asked Johnny. + +"There's another: Waffles, of th' O-Bar-O," came the reply, and a verse +of a nearly forgotten song arose on the breeze. + + _I've swum th' Colorado where she runs down clost to hell,_ + _I've braced th' faro layouts in Cheyenne;_ + _I've fought for muddy water with a howlin' bunch of Sioux,_ + _An' swallered hot tamales, an' cayenne._ + +"There's more, but I've done forgot most of it," apologized the singer. + +Johnny laughed with delight. "Why, that's Lefty Allen's old song. +Here's th' second verse:" + + _I've rid a pitchin' broncho till th' sky was underneath,_ + _I've tackled every desert in th' land;_ + _I've sampled Four-X whisky till I couldn't hardly see,_ + _An' dallied with th' quicksands of th' Grande._ + +"That's shore O-Bar-O. Lefty made it up hisself, an' that boy could +sing it. It all comes back to me now--he called it 'Th' Insult.' +Why--here, _you_!" he chuckled. "I said I was mad an' in a hurry. I +ain't mad no more, but I _am_ in a hurry. See you tonight, mebby. +So-long." + +Riding on again he soon reached the Question-Mark bunkhouse and +dismounted as a puncher turned the corner of the house. They grinned at +each other, these good, old-time friends. + +"You son-of-a-gun!" chuckled Johnny, holding out his hand. + +"You son-of-a-gun!" echoed Waffles, gripping it, and so they stood, +silent, exchanging grins. It had been a long time since they last had +seen each other. + +McCullough loomed up in the doorway and grinned at them both. + +"Hear yo're married," said Waffles. + +"Shore!" bragged Johnny. + +"It ain't spoiled you, _yet_. How's Hoppy an' Red?" + +"Fine, now they're out of jail." + +Waffles threw his head back and laughed heartily. "I near laughed till +I busted when Quayle told us who they was. Hoppy an' Red in _jail_! It +was _funny_!" + +"Hello, Nelson," said McCullough. "What are you doin' down here?" + +"Had to leave town; too many corners, an' too much cover. I'm lookin' +for a job, if it don't cut me out of th' rewards." + +"She's yourn." + +"Wait a minute," said Johnny. "I can't take it. I got to be free to do +what I want; but I'll hang out here for awhile." + +"You've got th' job instanter," said the appreciative trail-boss +smiling broadly. "It's steady work of bossin' yoreself. I've heard of +yore work, up Gunsight way. Feed yet? Then come on." + +"Shore will. Where's Quayle?" + +"Rode back, roundabout; him not courtin' bein' seen; but I reckon +everybody in town knows he's been here. He swears by you." + + * * * * * + +Despite Idaho's boasts to the contrary his ranch again had nocturnal +visitors, and there was no lead-flying welcome accorded them. Having +spied out the distribution of Lukins' riders the visitors chose a +locality free from guards and with the coming of night drifted a +sizable herd of Diamond L cattle across an outlying section of the +range and with practiced art and uncanny instinct drove the compacted +herd onto and over the rocky plateau, where the chief of the raiders +obtained a speed with the cattle which always bordered upon a panicky +flight, but never quite reached it. All that night they rumbled over +the rocky stretch and as dawn brightened the eastern sky the running +herd passed down a gentle slope, picked up the waiting caviya and not +long thereafter moved over the hard bottom of a steep-walled ravine +which could have been called a canyon without unduly stretching the +meaning of the word. + +The chief of the raiding party cared nothing for the fatness of +the animals, or other conditions which might operate against the +possibilities of a lucrative sale. There later would be time for +improving their condition, plenty of time in a valley rich with grass. +All he cared for now was to put miles speedily behind him, and this +he was accomplishing like the master cattleman he was. After a mid-day +breathing space they went on again, alternately walking and running, +and well into the second night, stopping at a water-hole known only to +a few men other than these. Some miles north of this water-hole was +another, and very much smaller one, being only a few feet across, and +there also was a difference between the waters of the two. The larger +was of a nature to be expected in such a locality, but much better +than most such holes, for the water was only slightly alkaline and the +cattle drank it eagerly. The other was sweet and pure and cold, but +rather than to cover the distance to it and back again, it was ignored +by all but one man, for the other stayed with the herd. There was grass +around both; not enough to feed a herd thoroughly, but enough to keep +it busy hunting over the scanty growth. With more than characteristic +thought these holes had been named in a manner to couple and yet to +keep them separate, and to Kane's drive crew they were known as "Sweet" +and "Bitter." + +Again on the trail before the sun had risen above the horizon, the herd +was sent forth on another day's hard drive, which carried it, with the +constantly growing tail herd of stragglers, far into the following +night, despite all dumb remonstrances. No mercy was shown to it, but +only a canny urging, and if no mercy was shown the cattle none was +accepted by the drivers, who rode and worked, swore and panted on wiry +ponies which, despite frequent changing, began to show the marks of +their efforts under the pitiless sun and through the yielding sands. +Both cattle and horses had about reached their limits when the late +afternoon of the next day brought them to a rocky ledge sticking up out +of the desert's floor, which now was hard and stony; and upon turning +the south end of the ridge an emerald valley suddenly lay before their +eyes, from whence the scent of water had put a new spirit into cattle +and horses for the last few miles; and now it nearly caused a fatal +stampede at the entrance to the narrow ledge which slanted down the +steep, rock walls. + +To a stranger such a sight would have awakened amazed incredulity, +and strong suspicion that his sanity had been undermined by the +heat-cursed, horror-laden desert miles; or he might have sneered wisely +at so palpable a mirage, scorned to be tricked by it in any attempt +to prove it otherwise and staggered on with contemptuous curses. But +Miguel and the men he so autocratically bossed knew it to be no vision, +no trick of air or mind, and sighed with relief when it finally lay +before them. While they all knew it was there and had visited it +before, none of them, except Miguel, had ever learned the way, try +as they might, for until the high ledge of rock, hidden on the west +by a great, upslanting billow of sand, came into sight there were no +landmarks to show them the way. Each new journey across the simmering, +shimmering plateau found fears in every heart but the guide's that he +would lose his way. That their fears may be justified and to show them +blameless in everything but their lack of confidence in him, it may be +well to have a better understanding of this desert and what it meant; +and to show why men should hold as preposterous any claim that a cattle +herd could safely cross it. Some went even further and said no man, +mounted or not, could make that journey, and confessed to themselves a +superstitious fear and horror for it and everything pertaining to it. + +Before the deep ruts had been cut in the old Santa Fe Trail in that +year of excessive rains; before the first wheel had rolled over the +prairie soil to prove that wagons could safely make the long and +tiresome trip; before even the first pack trains of heavily laden +mules plodded to or from the Missouri frontier, and even before the +pelt-loaded mules of the great fur companies crossed Kansas soil to the +trading posts of the East, Mexican hunters rode from the valley of Taos +and Santa Fe to procure their winter meat from the vast brown herds of +buffalo migrating over their curious, crescent-shaped course to and +from the regions of the Arkansas, Canadian, and Cimarron. They dried +the strips of succulent meat in the sun or over fires, the fuel for +the latter having been supplied by the buffalo themselves on previous +migrations; they stripped the hides from the prostrate bodies and cured +them, and trafficked with the bands of Indians which followed the herds +as persistently as did the great, gray wolves. Of these _ciboleros_, +swarthy-skinned hunters of Mexico, some more hardy and courageous than +their fellows, or by avarice turned trader, ventured further afield and +were not balked by the high, beetling cliffs which bordered a great, +forbidding plateau lying along and below the capricious Cimarron, in +places a river of hide-and-seek in the sands, wet one day and dry the +next. + +From the mesa-like northern edge, along the warning arroyos of the +Cimarron, where erosion, Nature's patient sculptor, carved miracles of +artistry in the towering clays, shales, and sandstones, to the great +sand hills billowing along its far-flung other edges, this barren +waste of dreary sand and grisly alkali was a vast, simmering playground +for dancing heat waves and fantastic mirage, and its treacherous pools +of nauseous, alkaline waters shrunk daily from their encrusted edges +and gleamed malignantly under a glowering, molten sun. Arroyos, level +plain, shifting sand, and imponderable dust, with a scrawny, scanty, +hopeless vegetation which the whimsical winds buried and then dug up +again, this high desert plateau lay like a thing of death, cursing and +accursed. It sloped imperceptibly southward, its dusty soil gradually +breaking into billowy ridges constantly more marked and with deeper +troughs, by insensible gradations becoming low sand hills, ever growing +more separate and higher until at last they were beaten down and +strewn broadcast by more persistent winds, and limited by the firmer +soils which were blessed with more frequent rains to coax forth a thin +cover of protecting, anchoring vegetation. To the west they intruded +nearly to the Rio Pecos, a stream which in almost any other part of the +country would have been regarded as insignificant, but here was given +greatness because its liquid treasure was beyond price and because it +was permanent, though timid. + +Of the first of the Mexicans to push out over this great desolation +perhaps none returned, except by happy chance, to tell of its tortures +and of the few serviceable water-holes leagues apart, the permanency +of which none could foretell. But return some eventually did, and +perhaps deprecated the miseries suffered, in view of the saving in +miles; but their experience had been such as to impel them to drive a +line of stakes along the happily chosen course to mark in this manner +the way from each more trustworthy water-hole to the next, be they +reservoirs or furtive streams which bubbled up and crept along to die +not far from their hopeful springs, sucked up by palpitant air and +swallowed by greedy sands, their burial places marked by a shroud of +encrusted salts. In the winter and spring an occasional rain filled +hollows, ofttimes coming as a cloudburst and making a brave showing +as it tumultuously deepened some arroyo and roared valiantly down it +toward swift effacement. The trail was staked, if not by the swarthy +traders, then by their red-skinned brothers, and from this line of +stakes the tableland derived its name, and became known to men as the +Lano Estacada, or Staked Plain. + +Of this accursed desert no one man had full knowledge, nor thirsted for +it if it were to be had only through his own efforts. There were great +stretches unknown to any man, and there were other regions known to +men who had not brought their knowledge out again; and what knowledge +there was of its south-central portions was not to be found in men with +white skins, but in certain marauding redmen fitted by survival to cope +with problems such as it presented, and to live despite them. One other +class knew something of its mysteries, for among the Mexicans there +were some who had learned by bitter pilgrimages, but mostly from the +mouths of men long dead who had passed the knowledge down successive +generations, each increment a little larger when it left than when it +came, who had a more comprehensive, embracing knowledge of the baking +tableland; and these few, because what they knew could best be used in +furtive, secretive pursuits bearing a swift penalty for those caught +in them, hugged that knowledge closely and kept it to themselves. A +man who has that which another badly needs can drive shrewd bargains. +And of the few Mexicans who were enriched by the possession of this +knowledge, those who knew most about it had mixed blood flowing through +their veins, for the vast grisly plateau had been a short cut and place +of refuge for marauding bands of Apaches, Utes, and Comanches while +civilization crawled wonderingly in swaddling clothes. + +Of the knowing few Pecos Kane owned two, owned them body and soul, and +to make his title firmer than even proof of murder could assure, he +threw golden sops to the wise ones' avarice and allowed them seats in +the sun and privileges denied to their fellows. One of them, by name +Miguel, a small part Spaniard and the rest Mescalero Apache, was a +privileged man, for he knew not only the main trails across the plain +but certain devious ways twisting in from the edges, one of which +wandered for accursed miles, first across rock, then over sand and +again over rock and unexpectedly turned a high, sharp ridge to look +upon his Valle de Sorprendido, deep and green, whose crystal spring +wandered musically along its gravelly bed from the graying western end +of the canyon-like ravine to sink silently into the thirsty sands to +the east and be seen no more. Manuel, also, knew this way. + +Surprise Valley was no terminal, but a place for tongue-lolling, +wild-eyed cattle to pause and rest, drink and eat before the fearful +journey called anew. No need for corral, fence, or herders here to keep +them from straying, but an urgent need for pressing riders to throw the +herd back on the trail again, to start the dumbly protesting animals +on the thirty-six-hour drive to the next unfailing water, against the +instinct which bade them stay. A valley of delight it was, a jewel, +verdant and peaceful, forced by man to serve a vicious purpose; but as +if in punishment for its perversion the glistening sand hills crept +slowly nearer, each receding tide of their slow advance encroaching +more and more each year until now the valley had shrunk by half and a +stealthy grayness crept insidiously into its velvety freshness like the +mark of sin across a harlot's cheek. + +Near the fenced-in spring was an adobe building, deserted except +when a drive crew sought its shelter, and it served principally as a +storehouse should a place of refuge suddenly be needed. It lay not far +from the sloping banks of detritus which now ran halfway up the sheer, +smooth stone walls enclosing the valley. Across from it on the southern +side of the depressed pasture a broad trail slanted up the rock cliffs +to the desert above. The cabin, the trail, and the valley itself long +ago would have been obliterated by sand but for the miles of rocks, +large and small, which lay around it like a great, flat collar. Should +some terrific sand storm sweep over it with a momentum great enough to +bridge the rocky floor the valley would cease to be; and smaller storms +raging far out on the encircling desert carried their sands farther and +farther across the stubborn rock, until now its outer edge was closer +by miles. Already each rushing wind retained sand enough to drop it +into the valley and powder everything. + +The pock-marked guide, disdaining the precarious labors of getting the +herd down the ledge with no fatalities among the maddened beasts, +lolled in his saddle on the brink of the precipice and watched the +struggle on the plain behind him, where hard-riding, loudly yelling +herders were dashing across the front of the weaving, shifting, +stubborn mass of tortured animals, letting them through the frantic +restraining barrier in small groups, which constantly grew larger. Here +and there a more determined animal slipped through and galloped to the +descending ledge, head down and tail up. The cracking of revolvers +fired across the noses of the front rank grew steadily and Miguel +deemed it safer to leave the brim of the cliff. It was possible that +the maddened herd might break through the desperate riders and plunge +to its destruction. Had the trail been a few hours longer nothing could +have held them. + +"Give a hand here!" shouted the trail-boss as the guide rode +complacently out of danger. "Ride in there an' help split 'em!" + +"I weel be needed w'en we leeve again," replied Miguel. "To run a reesk +eet ees foolish. I tol' you to stop 'em a mile away an' spleet 'em +there. Eet ees no beesness of Miguel's, theese. You deed not wan' to +tak' the time? Then tak' w'at you call the consequence." + +Eventually the last of the herd which mercifully was composed of +stragglers whose lack of strength made them more tractable, were +successfully led to the ledge and stumbled down it to join their +brothers standing or lying in the little brook as if to appease their +thirst by absorption before drinking deeply. The frantic, angry bawling +of an hour ago was heard no more, for now a contented lowing sounded +along the stream, where the quiet animals often waited half an hour +before attempting to drink. They stood thus for hours, reluctant to +leave even to graze and after leaving, left the grass and returned time +after time to drink. There were a few half-blinded animals among the +weaklings, but water, grass, and rest would restore their sight. Here +they would stay until fit for the second and lesser ordeal, and the +others in turn. + +The weary riders, turning their mounts loose to join the rest of the +horse herd, piled their saddles against the wall of the hut and waited +for the cook to call them to fill their tin plates and cups. One of +them, more energetic and perhaps hungrier than the rest, unpacked the +load of firewood from a spiritless horse and carried it to the hut. + +The perspiring Thorpe looked his thanks and went on with his labors +and in due time a well-fed, lazy group sprawled near the hut, swapping +tales or smoking in satisfied silence. At the other side of the +building Miguel sat with those of his own kind, boasting of his desert +achievements and in reply to a sneering remark from the other group +he showed his teeth in a mocking smile, raised his eyebrows until the +crescent scar reached his sombrero and shrugged his shoulders. + +"Eet ees not good to say sooch theengs to Miguel," he complacently +observed. "Eef he should get ver' angree an' leeve een the night eet +would be ver' onluckie for Greengos. _Quien sabe?_" + +"He got you there, Jud," growled a low voice. "He shore hurts me +worse'n a blister, but I'm totin' my grudge silent." + +"Huh," muttered another thoughtfully. "A man can travel fast without no +cattle to set th' pace. He shore can 'leeve' an' be d--d, for all _I_ +care. An' I'm sayin' that if he does there'll be a d--d dead Greaser in +Mesquite right soon after I get back. Th' place for him to 'leeve' us +is at Three Ponds--for then we shore would be in one bad fix." + +"I ain't shore I'd try to get away," said Sandy Woods slowly. "There's +good grass an' water here, no herdin', no strayin', nobody to bother a +feller. A man can live a long time on one steer out here, jerkin' th' +meat. Th' herd would grow, an' when it came time to turn 'em into money +he'd only have to drive plumb west. It wouldn't be like tryin' to find +a little place like this. Just aim at th' sunset an' keep goin'." + +"How long would this valley feed a herd like th' one here now?" +ironically demanded the trail-boss. "You can tell th' difference in th' +grass plain at th' end of a week. Yo're full of loco weed." + +"Eef you say sooch things to me I may leeve in the night," chuckled the +other. "Wish they'd stampeded an' knocked him over th' eege! One of +these days some of us may be quittin' Kane, an' then there'll be one +struttin' half-breed less in Mesquite. Tell you one thing: I won't make +this drive many more times before I know th' way as well as he does; +an' from here on we could stake it out." + +Soft, derisive laughter replied to him and the trail-boss thoughtfully +repacked his pipe. "It ain't in you," he said. "You got to be born with +it." + +"You holdin' that a white man ain't got as much brains as a mongrel +with nobody knows how many different kinds of blood in him?" +indignantly demanded Sandy. + +"He's got generations behind him, like a setter or a pointer, an' it +ain't a question of brains. It's instinct, an' th' lower down yore +stock runs th' better it'll be. There ain't no human brains can equal +an animal's in things like that. I doubt if you could leave here an' +get off this desert, plumb west or not. You got a big target, for it's +all around you behind th' horizon; but I don't think you'd live till +you hit it at th' right place. Don't forget that th' horizon moves with +you. If there wasn't no tracks showin' you th' way you'd die out on +this fryin' pan." + +"An' th' wind'll wipe them out before mornin'," said one of the others. + +The doubter laughed outright. "Wait till we come back. I'll give you a +chance to back up yore convictions. Don't forget that I ain't sayin' +that I'd try it afoot. I'd ride an' give th' horse it's head. There +ain't nothin' to be gained arguin' about it now. An' I'm free to admit +that I'm cussed glad to be settin' here lookin' out instead of out +there some'ers tryin' to get here to look in. Gimme a match, Jud." + +The trail-boss snorted. "Now yo're takin' _my_ end," he asserted. "If +you ride a cayuse an' give it its head it ain't a white man's brains +that yo're dependin' on. That ain't yore argument, a-tall. I'll bet +you, cayuse or no cayuse, you can't leave Three Ponds an' make it. A +cayuse has to drink once in awhile or he'll drop under you an' you'll +lose yore instinct-compass." + +"I'll take that when we start back," retorted Sandy, "if you'll give me +a fair number of canteens. I'm figgerin' on outfittin' right." + +"Take all you want at Cimarron corrals," rejoined the trail-boss. +"After we leave there I'm bettin' nobody will part with any of theirs." +He looked keenly at the boaster and took no further part in the +conversation, his mind busy with a new problem; the grudge he already +had. + + + + + CHAPTER XV + + DISCOVERIES + + +Hopalong and Red liked their camp and were pleased that they could +stay in it another day and night. They jerked the bear meat in the sun +and smoke and took a much-needed bath in the creek, where the gentle +application of sand freed them from the unwelcome guests which the jail +had given them. Clothing washed and inspected quickly dried in the sun +and wind. Neither of them had anything on but a sombrero and the effect +was somewhat startling. Red picked up his saddle pad to fling it over a +rock for a sun bath and was about to let go of it when he looked closer. + +"Hey, did you rip open this pad?" he asked, eying his friend +speculatively. + +Hopalong added his armful of fuel to the pile near the fire and +eyed his friend. "For a growed man you shore do ask some childish +questions," he retorted. "Of course I did. I allus rip open saddle +pads. All my life I been rippin' open every saddle pad I saw. Many a +time I got mad when I found a folded blanket instead of a pad. I've got +up nights an' gone wanderin' around looking for pads to rip open. You +look like you had sense, but looks shore is deceivin'. Why'n blazes +would I rip open yore saddle pad? I reckon it's plumb wore out an' just +nat'rally come apart. You've had it since Adam made th' sun stand +still." + +"You must 'a' listened to some sky pilot with yore feet!" retorted Red. +"Adam didn't make th' sun stand still. That was Moses, so they'd have +longer light for to hunt for him in. An' you needn't get steamed up, +neither. Somebody ripped this pad, with a knife, too. Seein' that it +was in th' same camp all night with you, I nat'rally asked. I'm shore +_I_ didn't do it. Then _who_ did?" He swaggered off to get his friend's +pad and picked it up. "Of course you wouldn't rip yore own. That--" he +held it closer to his eyes and stared at it. "Cussed if you _didn't_, +though! It's ripped just like mine. I reckon you'll be startin' on th' +saddles, next!" + +Hopalong's amusement at the ripping of his companion's pad faded out as +he grabbed his own and looked at it. "Well, I'm cussed!" he muttered. +"It shore was ripped, all right. It never come apart by itself. _Both_ +of 'em, huh?" He pondered as he turned the pad over and over. + +"They didn't play no favorites, anyhow," growled Red. "Wonder what they +thought they'd find? Jewels?" + +Hopalong pushed back his hat and gently scratched a scalp somewhat +tender from the sand treatment. "Things like that don't just happen," +he said, reflectively. "There's allus a reason for things." He grew +thoughtful again and studied the pad. "Mebby they wasn't lookin' for +anythin'," he muttered, suspiciously. + +Red snorted. "Just doin' it for practice, mebby?" he asked, +sarcastically. "Not havin' nothin' else _to_ do, somebody went up to +our rooms an' amused themselves by rippin' open our pads. You got a +head like a calf, only it's a hull lot smaller." + +"We was accused of robbin' th' bank, Reddie," said Hopalong in patient +explanation. "They knowed we didn't do it--so they must 'a' wanted us +to be blamed for it. Th' best proof they could have, not seein' us do +it, was to plant somethin' to be found on us. This is past yore A B C +eddication, but I'll try to hammer it into you. If it makes you dizzy, +hold up yore hand. What does a bank have that everybody wants? Money! +Why do people rob banks? To get money, you sage-hen! What would bank +robbers have after they robbed a bank? Money, you locoed cow! Now, +Reddie, there's _two_ kinds of money. One is hard, an' th' other is +soft like yore head. Th' soft has pretty pictures on it an' smells +powerful. It also has numbers. Th' numbers are different, Reddie, on +each bill. Some banks keep a list of th' numbers of the biggest bills. +Reckon I better wait an' let you rest up." + +"Too bad they got us out of jail--_both_ of us," said Red. "I should +'a' stayed behind. It wouldn't 'a' been half as bad as hangin' 'round +with you." + +"Now," continued his companion, looking into the pad, "if some of them +numbered bills was found on us they'd have us, wouldn't they? We wasn't +supposed to have no friends. An' where would a couple of robbers be +likely to carry dangerous money? On their hats? No, Reddie; _not_ on +their hats. In their pockets, where they might get dragged out at th' +wrong time? Mebby; but not hardly. Saddle pads, says th' little boy in +th' rear of the room. Right you are, sonny. Saddle pads, Reddie, is +a real good place. While you go all over it again so you can get th' +drift of it I'll put on some clothes. I'm near baked." + +"It started some time ago," said Red innocently. + +"What did?" + +"Th' bakin'. You didn't get that hat on quick enough," his friend +jeered. "I've heard of people eatin' cooked calves' brains, but they'd +get little nourishment an' only a moldy flavor out of yourn. An' you'd +shore look better with _all_ yore clothes on. I can see th' places +where you've stopped washin' yore hands, feet, an' neck all these +years." + +Hopalong mumbled something and slid into his underwear. "Gee!" he +exulted. "These clean clothes shore do feel good!" + +"_You'd_ nat'rally notice it a whole lot more than I would," said Red, +following suit. As his head came into sight again he let his eyes +wander along the eastern and southeastern horizon. "You know, them +bluffs off yonder remind me a hull lot of parts of th' Staked Plain," +he observed. "We hadn't ought to be very far away from it, down here." + +"They're its edge," grunted Hopalong, rearranging the strips of meat +over the fire. Both became silent, going back in their memories to the +events of years before, when the Staked Plain had been very real and +threatening to them. + +At daylight the following morning they arose and not much later were +riding slowly southward and as near the creek as the nature of its +banks would allow. When the noon sun blazed down on them they found the +creek dwindling rapidly and, glancing ahead down the sandy valley they +could make out the dark, moist place where the last of it disappeared +in the sands. They watered their horses, drank their fill and went +on again toward the place where they were to meet Johnny, riding on +a curving course which led them closer and closer to the forbidding +hills. In mid-afternoon they came to a salt pond and instead of arguing +about the matter with their thirsty mounts, let them go up to it and +smell it. The animals turned away and went on again without protest. +A little later Red squinted eastward and nodded in answer to his own +unspoken question. + +"Shore it is," he muttered. + +Hopalong followed his gaze and grunted. "Shore." He regarded the +distant bulk thoughtfully. "Strikes me no sane cow ever would go out +there, unless it was drove. It's our business to look into everythin'. +Comin'?" + +"I shore am. Nobody can buffalo me an' chuck me into jail without a +comeback. I'm lookin' for things to fatten it." + +"It can't get too fat for me," replied his friend. "Helpin' th' Kid get +his money back was enough to set me after some of that reward money; +but when I sized up Kane an' his gang it promised to be a pleasure; +now, after that jailin', it's a yelpin' joy. If there's no other way +I'm aimin' to ride into Mesquite an' smoke up with both guns." + +As they neared the carcass Red glanced at his cheerful friend. "Head's +swelled up like a keg," he said. "Struck by a rattler." + +"Reckon so; but cows dead from snakebite ain't common." + +They pulled up and looked at it at close range. + +"Shot," grunted Hopalong. + +"Then somebody was out here with it," said Red swinging down. "He was +tender-hearted, _he_ was. Gimme a hand. We'll turn it over an' look at +th' brand." + +Hopalong complied, and then they looked at each other and back to the +carcass, where a large piece of hide had been neatly trimmed around and +skinned off. + +"Didn't dare let it wander, an' they plugged it after it got struck," +said Red. + +"Careful, they was," commented his companion. "They was too careful. +If they'd let it wander it wouldn't 'a' told nothin', 'specially if it +wandered toward home. But shootin' it, an' then doin' _this_--I reckon +our comeback is takin' on weight." + +"It shore is," emphatically said Red. "Cuss this hard ground! It don't +tell nothin'. They went north or south--an' not long ago, neither. +Which way are you ridin'?" + +Hopalong considered. "If they went either way they'd be seen. I got +a feelin' they went right across. Greasers an' Injuns know that +desert, an' there's both kinds workin' for Kane. It allus has been a +shore-thing way for 'em. Remember what Idaho said?" + +"It can't be done," said Red. + +"Slippery Trendly an' Deacon Rankin did it." + +"But they only crossed one corner," argued Red. + +"McLeod's Texans did it!" + +"They didn't cross much more'n a corner," retorted Red. "An' look what +it _did_ to 'em!" + +"It's a straight drive for them valleys along th' Cimarron," mused +Hopalong. "Nobody to see 'em come or go, good grass to fatten 'em up +after they got there, an' plenty of time for blottin' th' brands. I'll +bet Kane's got men that knows how to get 'em over. There's water-holes +if you only know where to look, an' how to head for 'em; an' some of +these half-breeds down here know all of that. If they went north or +south on a course far enough east to keep many folks from seein' 'em +they'd find it near as dry. Well, we better go down an' meet th' Kid +before we do anythin' else. We got our bearin's an' can find th' way +back again. What you say?" + +Red mounted and led the way. "If I'm goin' to ride around out here +I'm goin' to have plenty of water, an' that means canteens. I'm near +chokin' for a drink; an' this cayuse is gettin' mean. Come on." + +"We might pick up some tracks if we hunt right now," said Hopalong. +"If we wait longer this wind'll blot 'em out. I ain't thirsty," he +lied. "You go down an' meet th' Kid an' I'll look around east of here. +We can't gamble with this: if I find tracks they'll save us a lot of +ridin' an' guessin'. Go ahead." + +"If you stay I stay," growled Red. + +"Listen, you chump," retorted Hopalong. "It's only a few hours more if +I stay out here than if I go with you. Get canteens an' supplies. Th' +Kid can bring us more tomorrow. I'm backin' my guess: get a-goin'." + +Red saw the wisdom of the suggestion and wheeled, riding at good speed +to the southwest while his friend went eastward, his eyes searching the +desert plain. It was night when Red returned, picking his way with a +plainsman's instinct to the carcass of the cow, and he softly replied +to a low call which came from behind a billow of sand. + +Hopalong arose. "You made good time," he said. + +"Reckon so," replied Red, riding toward him. "I only got two canteens +an' not much grub. Th' Kid'll be ready for us tomorrow. What about yore +cayuse?" + +"Don't worry," chuckled Hopalong. "It's th' cayuses that's been +botherin' me most. They're all right now. I found a little hole with +cold, sweeet water, an' there's grass around it for th' cayuses. There +ain't much, but enough for these two goats. Th' water-hole ain't more'n +three feet across an' a foot deep, but it fills up good an' has wet +quite a spot around it. An' Red, I found somethin' else!" + +"Good; what is it?" + +"There's clay around it an' a thin layer of sand over th' clay," +replied Hopalong. "I found th' prints of a cayuse an' a man, an' they +was fresh not more'n twenty-four hours old if I'm any judge. I cast +around on widenin' circles, but couldn't pick up th' trail any distance +from th' hole. Th' wind that's been blowin' all day wiped 'em out; but +it didn't wipe out much at th' edge of th' water. I could even make it +out where he knelt to drink. There you are: a dead cow, with th' brand +skinned off; tracks of a man an' a cayuse at that water-hole; no herd +tracks, no other cayuse tracks--just them two, an' our suspicions. What +you think?" + +Red chuckled. "I think we're gettin' somewhere, cussed slow an' I don't +know where; but I'm playin' up that skinned cow. If it was all skinned +I'd say a hide hunter might 'a' done it, an' that he made th' tracks +you saw; but it wasn't. You should 'a' looked better near th' carcass +instead of huntin' up th' water-hole. You might 'a' seen th' tracks of +a herd, or what th' wind left of 'em, 'though I reckon they drove that +cow off quite a ways before they dropped it." + +"Did you cross any herd tracks after you left me?" asked Hopalong. + +"No; why?" + +"An' we didn't cross any before you left," said Hopalong. "If there's +been any to see runnin' east an' west we'd 'a' found 'em. That was all +hard ground; an' there was th' wind. There wasn't none to find." + +"Huh!" snorted Red, and after a moment's thought he looked up. "Mebby +that feller found th' cow all swelled up with snakebite, away off from +water as he thought, an' just put an end to its misery?" + +"Then why did he cut out th' brand?" snapped Hopalong. + +"What are you askin' _me_ for?" demanded Red, truculently. "How'd _I_ +know? You shore can ask some d--n fool questions!" + +"Yo're half-baked," growled his companion. "I will be, too, before I +get any answer to what I'm askin' myself. I'm aimin' to squat behind +a rise north of that water-hole an' wait for my answer if it takes a +month. I can get a good view from up there." + +Red, whose hatred for deserts was whole-hearted, looked through the +darkness in disgust at his friend. "You've picked out a fine job for +us!" he retorted. "If yo're right an' they did drive a herd across to +th' other side it'll shore be a wait. Be more'n a week, an' mebby two." + +"They've got to drive hard between waters," replied Hopalong. "They'll +waste no time; an' they won't waste time comin' back again, when they +won't have th' cows to hold 'em down. There's one thing shore: They +won't be back tomorrow or th' next day, an' we both can ride down an' +see th' Kid, an' mebby McCullough. It's too good a lead to throw away. +But before we meet Johnny we're goin' to have a better look around, +'specially south an' east." + +"All right," agreed Red. "How'd you come to find th' hole?" + +"Rode up on a ridge an' saw somethin' green, an' knowin' it wasn't you +I went for it," answered his friend. "If it had been made for us it +couldn't be better. With water, an' grass enough for night grazin', an +a good ridge to look from, it's a fine place for us. We'll take turns +at it, for it won't feed two cayuses steady. Th' off man can ride west +to grass, mebby back to our camp, an' by takin' shifts at it we can +mebby save most of th' grass at th' hole." + +"An' mebby get spotted while we're ridin' back an' forth?" + +"Th' ridge will take care of that, an' I reckon when it peters out +there'll be others to hide us. I'm dead set on this: I'm so set that +I'll stick it out all alone rather than pass it by. I tell you I got a +_feelin'_." + +"I ain't quittin'," growled Red; "I ain't got sense enough to quit. +Desert or _no_ desert I'm aimin' to do my little gilt-edged damndest; +but I'm admittin' I'll be plumb happy when it's my time off. We'll +get supplies an' more canteens from th' Kid tomorrow, an' be fixed so +we can foller any other lead that sticks up its head. I shore can +stand more than ridin' over a desert if it'll give us anythin' on them +fellers." + +"Here we are," grunted his companion, swinging from the saddle. +"Finest, coldest water you ever drunk. I'm puttin' double hobbles on my +cayuse tonight, just to make shore." + +"Me, too," said Red, dismounting. + +In the morning they rode up for a look along the ledge, found that +it would answer their requirements and then went southeast, curving +further into the desert, and it was not long before Red's roving glance +caught something which aroused his interest and he silently rode off +to investigate, his companion going slowly ahead. When he returned it +was by another way and he rode with his eager eyes searching the desert +beneath and ahead of him. Reaching his friend, who had stopped and also +was scanning the desert floor with great intentness, he nodded in quiet +satisfaction. + +"Think you see 'em, too?" he smilingly inquired. "They're so faint they +can't hardly be seen, not till you look ahead, an' then it's only th' +difference between this strip of sand that we're on an' th' rest of th' +desert. It's a cattle trail, Hoppy; I just found another water-hole, +a big one. Th' bank was crowded with hoof marks, cattle an' cayuses. +Looks like they come from th' west, bearin' a little north. Th' only +reason we didn't see 'em when we rode down was because they was on hard +ground. That shore explains th' dead cow." + +"An' in a few hours more," said his companion, "this powdery dust will +blot 'em out. If they was clearer I'd risk follerin' them, even if we +only had a canteen apiece. We can ride as far between waters as they +can drive a herd, an' a whole lot farther. It's only fearin' that th' +trail will disappear that holds me back." + +"We don't have to risk it yet," said Red, grimly. "We've found out +where they cut in an' how they start across; an' all we got to do is to +lay low up there an' wait for 'em to come back, or start another herd +across, to learn who they are." + +"If we wait for their next drive we can foller 'em on a fresh, plain +trail, an' be a lot better prepared," supplemented Hopalong. "I reckon +we're shore goin' to fatten our comeback!" + +"It's pickin' up fast," gloated his friend. "All we got to do is watch +that big water-hole an' we got 'em. There ain't so many water-holes out +on this skillet that they can drive any way they like. We'll camp at +th' little one, of course, but we can lay closer to th' big one nights." + +"An' from th' ridge up yonder th' man on day watch can see for miles." + +"Yes; an' fry, an' broil, an' sizzle, an' melt!" muttered Red. "D--n +'em!" + +Hopalong had wheeled and was leading the way into the southwest as +straight as he could go for the meeting with Johnny, and Red pushed up +past him and bore a little more to the west. They had seen all they +needed to see for the day, and they had made up their minds. + +At last after a long, hot ride they reached the bluffs marking the +side of the plateau and soon were winding down a steep-walled arroyo +which led to the plain below, and the country began to change with such +insensible gradations that they hardly noticed it. Sage and greasewood +became more plentiful and after an hour had passed an occasional low +bush was to be seen and the ground sloped more and more in front of +them. A low fringe of greenery lay along the distant bottom, where +Sand Creek or some other hidden stream came close to the top of the +soil, later to issue forth and become the stream into which the +Question-Mark's creek later emptied. They crossed this and breasted an +opposing slope, followed around the base of a low ridge of hills and at +last stopped under a clump of live-oak and cotton woods in the extreme +east end of the Question-Mark valley. + +While the two friends were riding toward the little clump of trees +west of the Question-Mark ranch visitors rode slowly up to the door of +the ranchhouse and one of them dismounted. The shield he wore on his +open vest shone in the sun with nickel brightness, but his face was +anything but bright. The job which had been cut out for him was not to +his liking and had destroyed his peace of mind, and the peace of mind +of the two deputies, who needed no reflection upon their subordinate +positions to keep them in the sheriff's rear. What little assurance +they might have started with received a jolt soon after they had left +town, when a gruff and unmistakably unfriendly voice had asked, with +inconsiderate harshness and profanity, their intended destination and +their business. At last allowed to pass on after quite some humiliation +from the hidden sentries, they now were entering upon the dangerous +part of their mission. + +Corwin stepped up to the door and knocked, a formality which he never +dispensed with on the Question-Mark. Other visitors usually walked +right in and found a chair or sat on the table, but it never should +be said to Corwin's discredit that an officer of the law was rude and +ignorant in such a well-known and long-established form of etiquette. +So Sheriff Corwin knocked. + +"Come in!" impatiently bawled a loud and rude voice. + +The sheriff obeyed and looked around the door casing. "Ah, hello, Mac," +he said in cheery greeting. + +"Mac _who_?" roared the man at the table. + +"McCullough," said the man at the door, correcting himself. "How are +you?" + +"Yo're one full-blooded d--n fool of a sheriff," sneered the +trail-boss. "Where's them two prisoners I been waitin' for?" + +"They got away. Somebody helped 'em bust th' jail. I sent word back to +you by yore own men." + +"Shore, I got it; I know that. That's no excuse a-tall!" retorted the +trail-boss. "I went an' sent word down to Twitchell on th' jump that +his fool way worked an' that I was goin' to send him th' men he wanted. +Then you let 'em bust out of jail! Fine sort of a fool you made of me! +Where's yore reward now, that you was spendin' so fast? An' what'll +Twitchell say, an' _do_? He wants th' bank robbers, not excuses; an' +more'n all he wanted th' man that shot Ridley. It ain't only a question +of pertectin' th' men workin' for him, but it's personal, too. Ridley +was an old friend of his'n--an' he'll raise h--l till he gets th' man +that killed him. What about it? What have you done since they got away?" + +"We trailed 'em, but they lost us," growled Corwin. "Reckon they got up +on that hard ground an' then lit out, jumpin' th' country as fast as +they could. Kane had it on 'em, cold an' proper--but I had my doubts, +somehow. I ain't quittin'; I'm watchin' an' layin' back, an' I'm +figgerin' on deliverin' th' man that got Ridley." + +"You mean Long an' Thompson are innocent?" demanded McCullough with a +throaty growl. "Yo're sayin' it yoreself! What was you tryin' to run on +me, then?" + +"They must 'a' robbed th' bank," replied the sheriff; "but I got my own +ideas about who killed yore friend. This is between us. I'm waitin' +till I get th' proof; an' after I get it, an' th' man, I'll mebby have +to leave th' country between sunset an' dawn. I ain't no dog, an' I'm +gettin' riled." + +"Then it was Kane who cold-decked them two fellers?" demanded +McCullough. + +"I ain't sayin' a word, now," replied the sheriff. "Not yet, I ain't, +but I'm aimin' to get th' killer. Where's that Nelson?" + +"What you want with him?" asked the trail-boss. "Reckon he done it?" + +"No; he didn't," answered Corwin. "He only helped them fellers out of +jail, an' I'm goin' to take him in." + +"What?" shouted McCullough, and then burst out laughing. "I'm repeatin' +what I said about you bein' full-blooded! Say, if you can turn that +trick I won't raise a hand--not till he's in jail; an' then I'll get +him out cussed quick. He's workin' for me, an' he didn't do no crime, +gettin' a couple of innocent men out of that mud hut; an', besides, I +don't know that he did get 'em out. Go after him, Corwin; go right out +after him." He glanced out of the window again and chuckled. "I see you +brought some of yore official fam'bly along. Shucks! That ain't no way +to do, three agin' one. An' I heard you was a bad hombre with a short +gun!" + +"It ain't no question of how bad I am!" retorted the sheriff. "We want +him alive." + +"Oh, I see; aim to scare him, bein' three to one. All right; go +ahead--but there ain't goin' to be no pot-shootin'. Tell yore fam'bly +that. I mean it, an' I cut in sudden th' minute any of it starts." + +"There won't be no pot-shootin'," growled the sheriff, and to make +sure that there wouldn't be any he stepped out and gave explicit +instructions to his companions before going toward the smaller corral. +When part way there he heard whistling, wheeled in his tracks and went +back to the bunkhouse, hugging the wall as he slipped along it, his gun +raised and ready for action. + +Johnny turned the corner, caught sight of the two deputies, who held +his suspicious attention, and had gone too far to leap back when he saw +Corwin flattened against the wall and the sheriff's gun covering him. +Presumably safe on a friendly ranch, he had given no thought to any +imminent danger, and now he stood and stared at the unexpected menace, +the whistling almost dying on his pursed lips. + +"Nelson!" snapped the sheriff, "yo're under arrest for helpin' in that +jail delivery. I'll shoot at th' first hostile move! Put up yore hands +an' turn 'round!" + +Johnny glanced from him to the deputies and thought swiftly. Three to +one, and he was covered. He leaned against the wall and laughed until +he was limp. When he regained control of himself he blinked at the +sheriff and drew a long breath, which nearly caused Corwin to pull the +trigger; but the sheriff found it to be a false alarm. + +"What th' devil makes you think _I_ was mixed up in that?" he asked, +laughing again. He drew another long breath with unexpected suddenness, +and again the nervous sheriff and the two deputies nearly pulled +trigger; and again it was a false alarm. + +"I've done my thinkin'!" snapped Corwin. "Watch him, boys!" he said out +of the corner of his mouth. "An' if you wasn't mixed up in it you won't +come to no harm." + +"No; not in a decent town," rejoined Johnny, leaning against the wall +again, where Corwin's body somewhat sheltered him from the deputies. +The sheriff tensed again at the movement. "But Mesquite's plumb full +of liars," drawled Johnny, "trained by Kane. How do I know I'll get a +square deal?" + +"You'll get it! Put 'em up!" snapped Corwin, raising his gun to give +the command emphasis, and it now pointed at the other's head. + +"Long an' Thompson--" began Johnny, and like a flash he twisted +sidewise and jerked his head out of the line of fire, the bullet +passing his ear and the powder scorching his hair. As he twisted he +slipped in close, his left hand flashing to Corwin's gun-wrist and the +right, across his body, tore the weapon from its owner's hand. The +movement had been done so quickly that the sheriff did not realize what +had occurred until he found himself disarmed and pressing against his +own weapon, which was jammed into his groin. Johnny's left-hand gun had +leaped into the surprised deputies' sight at the sheriff's hip and they +lost no time in letting their own guns drop to the ground in instant +answer to the snapped command. Corwin's momentary surprise died out +nearly as quickly as it was born and, scorning the menace of the muzzle +of his own gun, he grabbed Johnny. As he shifted his foot Johnny's leg +slipped behind it and a sudden heave turned the sheriff over it, almost +end over end, and he struck the ground with a resounding thump. Johnny +sprang back, one gun on the sheriff, the other on the deputies. + +"Get off them cayuses," he ordered and the two men slowly complied. +"Go over near th' corral, an' stay there." In a moment he gave all his +attention to the slowly arising officer. + +"All this was unnecessary," he said. "You put us all in danger of bein' +killed. Don't you _never_ again try to take me in till you _know_ why +yo're doin' it! My head might 'a' been blowed off, an' all for nothin'! +You don't know who busted that jail, judgin' by yore fool actions, an' +you cussed well know it. You got plenty of gall, comin' down here an' +throwin' a gun on me, for that! I'm sayin', frank, that whoever done +that trick did th' right thing; but that ain't sayin' that _I_ did +it. Hope I didn't hurt you, Corwin; but I had to act sudden when you +grabbed me." + +"Don't you do no worryin' on my account!" snapped the sheriff. + +"I ain't blamin' you for doin' yore duty, if you was doin' it honest," +said Johnny; "but you ain't got no business jumpin' before yo're shore. +I ain't holdin' th' sack for nobody, Corwin; Kane or nobody else. Now +then: you can tell what proof you got that it was me that busted th' +jail." + +Corwin was watching the smiling face and the accusing eyes and he saw +no enmity in either. "Then who did?" he demanded. + +Johnny shrugged his shoulders. "_Quien sabe?_" he asked. "There's a +lot of people down here that would have more reason to do a thing like +that, even for strangers, than _I_ would. You ain't loved very much, +from what I've heard. I don't want any more enemies than I got; but +I'm tellin' you, flat, that I ain't goin' back with you; an' neither +would you, if you was in my place, in a strange town. Here," he said, +letting the hammer down and tossing the gun at the sheriff's feet, +"take your gun. I'm glad you ain't hurt; an' I'm cussed glad _I_ ain't. +But somebody's shore goin' to be th' next time you pull a gun on me on +a guess. You want to be _dead shore_, Corwin. We've had enough of this. +Did you get any trace of them two?" + +The sheriff watched his opponent's gun go back into its holster and +slowly picked up his own. "No; I ain't," he admitted, and considered +a moment as he sheathed the weapon with great care. "I _ain't_ got +nothin' flat agin' you," he said; "but I still think you had a hand in +it. That's a good trick you worked, Nelson; I'm rememberin' it. All +right; th' next time I come for you I'll _have_ it cold; an' I'm shore +expectin' to come for you, an' Idaho, too." + +"That's fair enough," replied Johnny, smiling; "but I don't see why you +want to drag Idaho in it for. He didn't have no more to do with it than +_I_ did." + +"I'm believin' that, too," retorted the sheriff; "since you put it just +that way. I haven't heard you say that you _didn't_ do it. Before I go +I want to ask you a question: Where was you th' night th' Diamond L +lost them cows?" + +"Right here with Mac an' th' boys." + +"He was," said McCullough. "Yo're ridin' wide of th' trail, Corwin." + +"Mebby," grunted the sheriff. "There's two trails. I mebby am plumb off +of _one_ of 'em, as long as you know he was down here that night; but +I'm ridin' right down th' middle of th' other. When did you meet Long +an' Thompson first?" he asked, wheeling suddenly and facing Johnny. + +"Thinkin' what you do about me," replied Johnny, "I'd be a fool to +tell you anythin', no matter what. So, as long as yo're ridin' down +th' middle you'll have to read th' signs yoreself. Some of 'em must be +plumb faint, th' way yo're guessin', an' castin' 'round. Get any news +about them rustlers?" + +"What's th' use of makin' trouble for yoreself by bein' stubborn?" +asked McCullough. He looked at Corwin. "Sheriff, I know for shore that +he never knowed any Bill Long or Red Thompson until after he come to +Mesquite. What news did you get about th' rustlers?" + +"Huh!" muttered Corwin, searching the face of the trail-boss, whose +reputation for veracity was unquestioned. "I ain't got any news about +'em. Once they got on th' hard stretch they could go for miles an' not +leave no trail. I'm figgerin' on spendin' quite some time north of +where Lukins' boys quit an' turned back. There's three cows missin' +that are marked so different from any I've ever seen that I'll know +'em in a herd of ten thousan' head; an' when they're cut out for me to +look at there's some marks on horns an' hoofs that'll prove whose cows +they are. I'm takin' a couple of his boys with me when I go, to make +shore. Of course, I don't know that we'll ever see 'em, at all. Well," +he said, turning toward his horse, "reckon I'll be goin'." He waved to +the deputies, who approached, picked up their guns under Johnny's alert +and suspicious scrutiny, and mounted. "As for you, Nelson, _next_ time +I'll be dead shore; an' I'll mebby shoot first, on a gamble, an' talk +afterward. So-long." + +Watching the three arms of the law ride away and out of sight, Johnny +swung around and faced the grinning trail-boss. "You told th' truth, +Mac; but I wonder if Corwin heard it like I did?" + +McCullough shrugged his shoulders. "Who cares? I'm thankin' you for an +interestin' lesson in how to beat th' drop; but I reckon I'm gettin' +too old to be quick enough to use it. I reckon Waffles has been tellin' +th' truth about yore Bar-20 outfit. Where you goin' now?" + +"Off to see a couple of better men from that same outfit," grinned +Johnny. + +He went on with his preparations and soon rode Pepper toward a gap in +the southern chain of hills, leading a loaded pack horse behind him. +Emerging on the other side of the pass he followed the chain westward +and in due time rounded the last hill and headed for the little clump +of trees where he saw his two friends waiting. They waved to him and he +replied, chuckling with pleasure. + +Red looked critically at the pack animal. "Huh! From th' looks of that +cayuse I reckon he figgers we're goin' to be gone some months, like a +prospector holin' up for th' winter." + +"He never underplays a hand," grunted Hopalong, a warm light coming +into his eyes. "Desert or no desert, it's shore good to be with him +again. He never should 'a' left Montanny." + +Johnny soon joined them, dismounted, picketed the pack horse, pushed +back his sombrero and rolled a cigarette, grinning cheerfully. "If you +want any more canteens you can have th' pair on my cayuse," he said. +"Find anythin'?" + +They told him and he nodded in quiet satisfaction. "You shore ain't +been asleep," he chuckled. "You've just about found out somethin' +that's been puzzlin' a lot of folks down here for some years. I wonder +how close they ever come to them water-holes when they was scoutin' +around? But mebby they never scouted over that way much--everybody was +bankin' on 'em stayin' on th' hard stretch over Lukins' way, instead of +crossin' it so close to town. You'd never thought of lookin' for 'em +over east if you hadn't remembered Slippery Trendly, now would you?" + +"We wasn't lookin' for nothin' nor nobody except you," admitted +Hopalong. "But when Red saw a dead cow as far out on th' desert as _it_ +was, we just had to take a look at it. An' when we saw it had been shot +we couldn't do nothin' else but look for th' brand. That bein' cut out +made us plumb suspicious. One thing just nat'rally led to th' next, as +th' mule said when its tail was pulled." + +"What you bet that missin' brand wasn't a Diamond L?" Johnny asked. + +"Ain't that th' ranch Idaho works for?" queried Red. + +Johnny nodded. "They raided Lukins th' night of th' day you an' Hoppy +left town. That outfit put in two days ridin' along th' hard ground, +half of 'em up an' half of 'em down. They lost over a hundred head." + +His friends exchanged looks, each trying to visualize the all but +obliterated trail, and both nodded. + +"Mebby it _was_ a Diamond L," said Hopalong, and he explained their +plans to some length. + +"That's goin' to win if you can stick it out," said Johnny. +"McCullough's steamin' a little, but he's still carryin' out +Twitchell's wishes; an' I been arguin' with him, too, to give you +fellers a chance. Hey!" he exclaimed, grinning. "I allus knowed I'd get +a bad name for hangin' out with you two coyotes; an' I done got it. I'm +suspected strong of bein' a criminal, like you fellers, an' I'll mebby +be an outlaw, too. Sheriff Corwin just said so, an' he ought to know +if anybody does. He arrested me for helpin' to get you fellers out of +jail, but he didn't say how he aimed to keep me in it, busted like it +is." + +"How'd you get away?" asked Red. "Wouldn't you go with him?" + +"Mebby he didn't have th' rest of th' dozen," suggested Hopalong. + +"Oh, he wasn't real shore about it really bein' me he wanted, so he +turned me loose," replied Johnny. "Anyhow, I couldn't 'a' gone with +him: I had to get this stuff out to you fellers. An' besides, I knowed +if I got in that 'dobe hut you wouldn't have th' nerve to bust me out +again." + +"I'm honin' to bust Corwin's 'dobe head," growled Red. + +"There's four canteens an' plenty of grub, with Mac's compliments," +said Johnny, waving at the pack horse. "When am I to meet you again?" + +Hopalong considered a moment. "There's too much ridin', comin' down +here unless we has to," he said. "Tell you what: We'll find a hill, or +a ridge up on th' plateau where a fire can be lit that won't show to +nobody north of them hills you just come around. Take that white patch +up yonder: we can see it plain for miles. You ride up to it every day +about two hours after sun-up; an' every night just after dark. If you +see smoke puffs in daylight, or a winkin' fire at night, ride toward +that split bluff behind us. We'll meet you there. If you get news for +us, do th' same thing on th' other slope, so it can't be seen from +across this valley. As long as it can be seen on a line with th' split +bluff we won't miss it." + +Johnny scratched his head. "Strings of six puffs or six winks means +trouble: come a-latherin'," he suggested. "Strings of three means news, +an' take yore time. Better have a signal for grub an' supplies: it'll +mebby save ridin'. Say groups of two an' five, alternate?" + +Hopalong nodded and repeated the signals to make certain that he had +them right. "Two an' five, alternate, for supplies; strings of six, +come a-runnin'; strings of three, news, an' take our time. Couple of +hours after sun-up an' just after dark. All right, Kid." + +"Mac's got an old spyglass. Want it, if I can get it?" asked Johnny. + +"Shore!" grunted Red. + +"Bring it next time you come," said Hopalong. + +"All right. Where you goin' now?" + +"Up on Sand Creek, where we're camped," answered Red. "We got a couple +of days before we move out on th' fryin' pan, an' we're aimin' to make +th' most of it." + +"Wait till I get th' glass, an' I'll go along," suggested Johnny, +eagerly. + +"Get a rustle on--an' take this pack animal back with you," smiled +Hopalong as Johnny started without it. "We'll empty out th' canteens, +an' we can tote th' supplies without it." + + + + + CHAPTER XVI + + A VIGIL REWARDED + + +The days passed quietly for the two watchers after Johnny had gone back +to the Question-Mark, the hours dragging in monotonous succession. +In the Sand Creek camp time passed pleasantly enough, but out on +the great, upslanting billow of sand north of Sweet Spring, devoid +of shelter from the blazing sun and from the reflected glare of the +gray-white desert around it, was another matter. Prone on his stomach +lay Hopalong on the northward slope, his face barely level with the +crest of the ridge. Down in the hollow behind him was his horse, +picketed and hobbled as well, and at his side on his blanket to keep +the cutting sand and clogging dust from barrels and actions lay his +rifle and his six-guns, so hot that their metal parts could not be +touched without a grimace of discomfort coming to his face. The +telescope at intervals swung around the shimmering horizon, magnifying +the dancing heat waves until the distortion of their wavering, +streaming currents at times rendered the view chaotic and baffling. +Strange sights were to be seen in the air and knowing what they were +he watched them as his only source of amusement. A tree-bordered lake +appeared, its waters sparkling, arose into the air, became vague and +slowly dissolved from view, calling from him caustic comment. Inverted +mountains reached down from the heavens, standing on snow-covered tops, +writhed more and more from their outer edges and melted down from +the up-flung bases, slowly fading from view. They were followed by a +silvery, winding river, certain features which caused him to think +that he recognized it and while he studied it a herd of cattle upside +down, and greatly magnified, pushed through into sight as the river +scene faded away. Another hour passed and then a steep-walled, green +valley inverted itself before his gaze. He could make out a hut and a +few trees and then as mounted men began to ride up its slanting bluff +trail his attention became riveted on it and he reached for the hot +telescope. One look through the instrument made him grunt with disgust, +for the figures danced and shrunk and expanded, weaved and became like +shadows, through which he looked as though through a rare, discolored +vapor. He was mildly excited and tried in vain to search his visual +image of the sight for the faces of the men; but it was in vain, and +he opened his eyes as the image faded and then closed them again to +better search the memory picture. This, too, availed him nothing and he +realized that he had not really seen the faces. He was perplexed and +vexed, for there was something familiar about some of those riders. +About to move for a look around through the telescope, he yielded to +a humorous warning and lay quiet for awhile. Was it possible that the +mirage had been double-acting, and had revealed each to the other? + +"Mebby they won't put as much stock in theirs as I did in mine," he +said, and slowly picked up the telescope for a final look all around +the horizon before Red should relieve him. East, south, west he looked +and saw nothing. Swinging it toward the Sand Creek camp he grunted +in satisfaction as a figure very much like Red wavered and danced +as it emerged over a ridge of sand. Further north he swung it and +slowly swept the northern horizon. Swearing suddenly he stopped its +slow progress and brought it back searchingly over ground it had just +covered. Rigid he held it and looked with unbelieving eyes. + +"Mirage?" he growled, questioningly: "It's too solid for that--I'm +goin' up to see." + +Getting his horse he gingerly slipped the hot rifle into its scabbard, +hastily dropped the six-guns into their holsters and, mounting, rode to +meet his nearing friend. + +"Cooked?" queried Red, grinning. "You shore didn't lose no time gettin' +started after you saw me! Ain't it h--l out here?" + +"H--l is right," answered Hopalong, handing over the telescope. "But +we got cayuses, full canteens, an' know where we are. Swing that +blisterin' tube over yonder," pointing, "an' tell me what you see?" + +Red obeyed and the moving glass suddenly stopped and swung back a +little. After long scrutiny he raised his head and gazed steadily over +the rigid tube as though along a rifle barrel. "I see him, now, without +it," he said. "A-foot, he is, staggerin' every-which way. Comin'?" + +His companion replied by pushing into the lead and setting a stiff pace +through the soft sand and alkali dust. As they drew near they both +shivered at the sight which steadily was being better revealed. + +The figure of a man, and scarcely more than figure, stumbled crazily +across the sand, hatless, his bare feet covered with dust which had +become pasty with the blood exuding through the deepening clefts in the +skin and flesh. Progress on such feet would have made him mad from pain +if he had not already become so from other causes. His trousers were +ripped and frayed to the swollen, dust-plastered knees, the crimson +fissures running up and down his swollen legs. Shirt he had none, save +the strip which hung stiff and crimson from his belt. His upper body +was a thing of horror, swollen, matted with crusts of dried blood, from +beneath which more oozed out to in turn coagulate. His burning eyes +peered through slits in the puffed face and his tongue, blackened and +purplish, stuck out of his mouth. + +"G--d!" muttered Red, glancing awesomely at the tense face of his +companion. + +"He's gone," said Hopalong, softly. "Nothing can save him. It would be +a mercy--" but he checked the words, searching Red's acquiescent eyes. + +"Can't do it," said Red. "Can you?" + +Hopalong drew in a deep breath and shook his head. "We got to try th' +other first," he said. "It's wrong--but there's nothin' else. We ain't +doctors, an' there may be a fightin' chance. Hobble th' cayuses. We'll +both tackle him--one alone might have to be too rough, for he'll mebby +fight." + +"He's down," said Red as he swung from his saddle. "Lookin' right at +us, too, an' don't see us." + +The figure groveled in the sand, digging with blundering fingers worn +to the bone by previous digging, and choked sounds came from the +swollen throat. Red talked to himself as he hobbled his horse and +pushed down the picket pin. + +"Lost his cayuse, somehow, or went crazy an' chased it away. Used +up his last water an' then threw away everythin' he had. Tore off +his shirt because th' neckband got too tight, an' th' cloth stuck to +th' blood clots an' pulled at 'em. I've seen others, but they warn't +none of 'em as bad as him," growled Red more to himself than to his +companion. + +Hopalong pushed home his own picket pin and stood up. "Comin'?" he +asked, starting slowly for the groveling, digging thing on the sand. + +They stepped up to him and lifted the unfortunate from the ground. +Dazed and without understanding, the pitiful object of their assistance +suddenly snarled and reached its bleeding fingers for Red's throat, and +for the next few minutes two rational, strong men had as hard a fight +on their hands as they ever had experienced; and when it was over and +the enraged unfortunate became docile from exhaustion they were covered +with blood. Letting a few drops of water trickle down the side of the +protruding tongue, which they forced to one side when the drops were +stopped by it, they worked over the dying man as long as they dared +in the sun and then, carrying him to Hopalong's horse they put him +across the saddle, lashing him securely, and covered him with a doubled +blanket to cheat the leering sun. + +"Go ahead to th' water-hole," said Hopalong, straightening up from +tying the last knot. "I'll take him to camp an' do what I can. There +won't be no trouble handlin' him, tied like he is. Got to try to save +him--'though I hope somebody puts a bullet through my head if I ever +get like him." + +"Bein' crazy, he mebby ain't feelin' it as much as he might," replied +Red. "Seems to me he's the one they called Sandy Woods; but he's so +plumb changed I ain't shore." + +Hopalong thought of the last mirage he had seen, was about to speak of +it, but abruptly changed his mind. He conveyed his warning in another +way. "Keep a-lookin' sharp, Red," he said. "Th' poor devil shore was +one of them rustlers; an' they mebby ain't far behind him. It's gettin' +nearer an' nearer th' time they ought to come back. I'll stay with him +in camp an' let th' Kid's signal go, if he makes one. This feller ain't +got long to live, I'm figgerin'." + +"It's a wonder he lived this long," said Red, riding off to take up the +vigil. + +Hopalong swung his belts and guns over the pommel of the saddle to +lighten him, drank sparingly from a canteen and started on foot for +the camp, leading his dispirited horse. After a walk through the hot, +yielding sand which became a punishment during the last mile he sighed +with relief as he stopped the horse on the bank of Sand Creek and +tenderly placed its burden on the ground in the shade of a tree. More +water, in judicious quantities, and at increasingly frequent intervals +brought no apparent relief to the sufferer, and in mid-afternoon Sandy +Woods lost all need of earthly care. Kane's thieving trail-boss had won +his bet. + +Hopalong looked down at the body freed of its suffering and slowly +shook his head. "Th' other way would 'a' been th' best," he said. "_I_ +knowed it; _Red_ knowed it--yet, both plumb shore, an' _knowin'_ it was +better, we just couldn't do it. A man's trainin' is a funny thing." + +He looked around the little depression and walked toward a patch of +sand lying near a mass of stones which had rolled down the slope; +and before the evening shadows had reached across the little creek, +a heaped-up pile of rocks marked the place of rest of one more weary +traveler. At the head, lying on the ground, was a cross made of stones. +Why he had placed it there Hopalong could hardly have told, but +something within him had stirred through the sleep of busy and heedless +years, and he had unthinkingly obeyed it. + +He looked up at the sun and found it was time to go on watch again. +He had been given no opportunity to sleep, but did not complain, +carelessly accepting it as one of the breaks in the game. When he +reached his friend, ready to go on duty again, Red looked up at him and +scrutinized his face. + +"Lots of sleep you must 'a' got," said Red. "How's our patient?" + +"Gettin' all th' sleep there is," came the reply. "We was right--both +ways." + +"Spread yore blanket here," said Red. "I'm stickin' to th' job till you +have a snooze. Anyhow, somethin' tells me that two won't be more'n we +need out here at night, from now on." + +"It's my trick," replied Hopalong, decisively. "Spread yore own +blanket." + +"Him turnin' up like he did was an accident," retorted Red, "an' +accidents are shared between us both. Anyhow, I ain't sleepy--an' th' +next few hours are pleasant. Get some sleep, you chump!" + +"Well, as long as we're both handy, it don't make much difference," +replied Hopalong, spreading the blanket. "We can spell each other any +time we need to. Hope th' Kid ain't tryin' to signal nothin'." + +"We got more to signal than he has," growled Red. "Shut up, now; an' go +to sleep," and his companion, blessed by one of the prized acquirements +of the plainsman, promptly obeyed; but it seemed to him that he +scarcely had dozed off when he felt his friend's thrusting hand, and he +opened his eyes in the darkness, staring up at the blazing stars, in +surprise. + +"Yes?" whispered Hopalong, without moving or making any other sound, +again true to his training. + +His companion's whisper, a whisper by force of habit rather than for +any good reason, reached him: "Turn over, an' look over th' ridge." + +Hopalong obeyed, threw off the blanket which Red had spread over him +when the chill of the desert night descended, and became all eyes as +he saw the faint glow of a distant fire, which rapidly grew and became +brighter. "It's them, down at th' other water-hole," he said, arising +and feeling to see if his Colts had slid out of their holsters while +he slept. "I'm goin' down for a better look," and he glanced at the +northern sky just above the horizon, memorized a group of stars and +disappeared noiselessly into the night. + +Nearing the larger water-hole he went more slowly and finished by +wriggling up to the crest of a sand billow, his head behind a lone sage +bush, and his eyelids closed to a thin crack, lest the light of the +fire should reflect from his eyes and reveal him to some keen, roving +glance. + +The greasewood fire blazed under a pair of skillets, while a coffeepot +imitated the Tower of Pisa on the glowing coals at one edge. Around it, +reclining on the powdery clay, or squatting in the more characteristic +attitude of men of the saddle, were a half-dozen of Kane's pets, Miguel +and his cronies well to one side. The hidden watcher knew them all by +sight and saw several men who had helped the sheriff trick him and Red. +In the darkness behind the group he heard their horses moving about as +they grazed. + +"Do you reckon he made it, Miguel?" asked the trail-boss, apropos of +the conversation around the fire. + +Miguel turned his face to the light, the scar over his eye glistening +against the duller skin around it. "I say no," he drawled. "He change +hees horrse at the corrals, no? The-e horrse he took was born at the-e +Cimarron corral an' foaled eet's firrst colt there. I would not lak' +sooch a horrse eef I did not know my way. But, _quien sabe_?" + +The trail-boss looked at him searchingly, wondering how much the +half-breed knew about Sandy's reasons for making the change. Kane would +not allow fighting in the ranks, and grudges live long in some men. +Besides, to lose the bet was to lose his share of the drive profits to +a man he secretly hated, and this did not suit the trail-boss. + +Miguel smiled grimly into the cold, searching eyes and shrugged his +shoulders, his soft laugh turning the cold stare into something warmer. +"Eef he deed, then eet ees ver' good," he said; "eef he deed not, then +eet hees own fault. But he should not change hees horrse." + +"We'll know tomorrow night, anyhow," said a voice well back from the +fire. "Get a rustle on you, Thorpe," it growled. "You move around like +an old woman." + +"Ain't no walls to climb," said another, laughing. + +The red-faced cook did not raise his head or retort, but in his memory +another name was deeply carved, to replace the one he was certain would +be erased when they reached Mesquite. Sandy Woods' dislike for the +horse given to him at the corrals had been overcome by the smooth words +of the unforgiving cook, who also had a score to pay. + +"When do we rustle next?" asked a squatting figure. "We been layin' low +too long, an' my pile has done faded; I wasn't lucky, like you, Trask, +an' the sheriff," he said, looking at the trail-boss. "Next time a bank +is busted _I_ aim to be in on it. You fellers can't hog _all_ th' good +things." + +"Don't do no good to talk about it," snapped the trail-boss. "Kane +names them he wants. Trask an' me was robbed of half of our share--I +ain't forgettin' it, neither. An' as for th' next raid, that's settled. +As long as all of us are in it, you might as well know. We're cleanin' +up on McCullough's west range, an' there won't be much of a wait." +Neither the speaker, his companions, nor the man behind the sage brush +knew that Kane already had changed his mind, and because of Lukins' +activity had decided to raid McCullough's east range. + +"_How_ soon?" demanded the questioner. + +"Some night this week, I reckon," came the answer. "If we get a good +bunch we'll sit back an' take things easy for awhile. Too many drives +may cut a trail that'll show, an' we can't risk _that_." + +"Too bad we have to drive west an' north before we hit for the plain," +said Jud Hill. "Takes two days more, that way." + +The trail-boss smiled. "I know a way that would suit you, Jud," he +said. "So does Miguel--but we've been savin' it till th' old route gets +too risky. It joins th' regular trail right here. Well, at last th' +cook has really cooked--pass it this way, Thorpe. I'm eatin' fast an' +I'm turnin' in faster. Th' more we beat th' sun gettin' away from here, +th' less it'll beat on us. We're leavin' an hour ahead of it." + +Not waiting until the camp should become silent, when any noise he +might make would be more likely to be heard, Hopalong crept away while +the rustlers ate and returned to his friend, who waited under a certain +group of stars. + +Red cocked his head at the soft sound, his Colt swinging to cover it, +when he heard his name called in his friend's voice, and he replied. + +Hopalong sat down on the blanket and related what he had seen and heard +without comment from his listener until the end of the narrative. + +"Huh!" said Red. "You learned a-plenty. An' I'm glad they reached that +water-hole after dark, an' are goin' to go on again before it gets +light. They missed our tracks. I call that luck," he said in great +satisfaction. "We wasn't doin' much guessin'. That's shore their drive +trail, an' th' best thing about it is that it's th' bottom of th' Y. +They've got two ways of leavin' th' ranges without showin' tracks, but +they both come together down yonder. I reckon mebby we'll have a piece +to speak when they come this way again. Goin' to tell McCullough what's +bein' hatched?" + +"We ought to," answered his companion, slowly. "We'll tell th' Kid +an' leave it to him. They must be purty shore of themselves to rustle +Question-Mark cattle at _this_ time. If th' Kid tells Mac, an' they try +it, Mesquite shore is goin' to be a busy little town. I think I know +his breed." + +"They ain't takin' much of a chance, at that, if they try it," +said Red. "They don't know that we know anythin' about it an' that +McCullough will know it, if th' Kid tells him. Mebby they figger that +by springin' it right now when th' feelin' is so strong agin' 'em, that +it would make folks think they didn't do it, because they oughten't +to--oh, pshaw! _You_ know what I'm gettin' at!" + +"Shore," grunted Hopalong. He was silent a moment and then stirred. "We +ain't got no reason to stay out here for a day or two. Let's pull out +an' go down where we can signal th' Kid after sun-up. We'll ride well +to th' east past their camp. What wind is stirrin' is comin' from th' +other way, an' there's no use makin' any fresh tracks in front of 'em." + +An hour or so after daylight a small fire sent a column of smoke +straight up, the explanation of its smoking qualities suggested by +the canteen lying near it. Hopalong and Red slid a blanket over the +fire and drew it suddenly aside, performing this operation three +times in succession before letting the column mount unmolested for +brief intervals. In the west, above and behind a bare spot on a ridge +of hills an answering column climbed upward, and then a series of +triple puffs took its place. Scattering the fire over the ground the +two friends absent-mindedly kicked sand over the embers, and suddenly +grinned at each other at the foolishness of their precautions. + +When they reached the little grove they found Johnny waiting for them, +his horse well loaded with more provisions. As they transferred the +supplies to their own mounts they told him what had occurred and he +decided that McCullough should be informed of the forthcoming raid, +whether or not it would in any way jeopardize the winning of the +rewards. + +"It's a toss-up whether Mac will wait for them to run it off," he said, +"when I tell him. He's gettin' more riled every minute, but he seemed +to calm down a little after Corwin visited him. Somethin' sort of pulls +him back when he gets to climbin' onto his hind legs, an' he ends up by +leanin' agin' th' wall an' swearin'. I'm not tellin' him nothin' about +anythin' but th' raid. You aimin' to go back to that water-hole?" + +Hopalong shook his head. "No, sir," he answered. "There ain't no reason +to till th' raid happens. We're campin' on Sand Creek till you signal +that it's been run off. Time enough then for us to watch on that cussed +griddle." + +"Have special signal for that?" suggested Red. "Say two, two an' three, +repeated. Mebby won't have time to hear what th' news is. When you get +our answer don't bother ridin' down here to tell us anythin'--we'll be +makin' tracks _pronto_." + +Johnny nodded. "Two, two an' three is O. K. I'll be ridin' back to +tell Mac there's goin' to be a party on his west range some night soon. +I'm bettin' it'll be a bloody party, too. Say," he exclaimed, pulling +up, "Lukins an' Idaho was down last night. They're mad as h--l, an' +they're throwin' a cordon of riders plumb across th' hard stretch every +night. Lukins an' Mac are joinin' forces, an' from now on th' two +ranches are workin' together as one. With us scoutin' around east of +town somethin' shore ought to drop." He pressed Pepper's sleek sides +and started back to the sheltering hills. + +"Somethin's _goin'_ to drop," growled Red, the memory of the jailing +burning strongly within him. "Don't forget, Kid--two, two an' three." + +Johnny turned in his saddle, waved a hand and kept on going. Rounding +the westernmost hill he rode steadily until opposite the white patch of +sand on the northern slope and then, dismounting, collected firewood, +and built it up on the dead ashes of his signal fire, ready for the +match. Going on again he rode steadily until he reached the place in +the arroyo which lay directly behind the ranchhouse. + +McCullough returned from a ride over the range to find his cheerful +friend smoking some of his tobacco. + +"Want a job, Nelson?" asked the trail-boss, swinging from the saddle +with an easy agility belying his age and weight. + +Johnny smiled at him. "Anythin', that don't take me away from th' ranch +too far or too long. Call it." + +"One of th' boys, ridin' south of th' hills on a fool's errand, this +mornin', thought he saw smoke signals back of White Face," said +McCullough. "He says he reckons he's loco. I ain't goin' that far. +Think you could find out anythin' about 'em?" + +Johnny considered, and chuckled. "Huh!" he snorted. "He's plumb late. +_I_ saw them before he did, an' know all about 'em. You stuck a couple +of jabs into me about bein' lazy, an' likin' to set around all day +doin' nothin'. Any chump can wear out cayuses ridin' around discoverin' +things, but th' wise man is th' feller that can set around all day, +lazy an' no-account, an' figger things out. I don't have to go prowlin' +around to find out things. I just set in th' shade of th' house, roll +cigarettes an' hold pow-wows with my medicine bag. You'd be surprised +if you knowed what I got in that bag, an' what I can get _out_ of it. +You shore would." + +McCullough looked at him with an expression which tried to express +so many uncomplimentary things at once that the composite was almost +neutral; at least, it was somewhat blank. + +"Ye-ah?" he drawled, his inflection in no way suggesting anything to +Johnny's credit. + +"Ye-ah," repeated the medicine man somewhat belligerently. + +"Oh," said the trail-boss, eyeing his victim speculatively. "You know +all about 'em, huh?" + +"Everythin'," placidly replied Johnny, rolling another cigarette. + +"I wish to heaven you'd quit smokin' them cussed things around here," +said McCullough plaintively. "Yo're growed up now, purty near; an' you +_ain't_ no Greaser. I'll buy you a pipe if you'll promise to smoke it." + +"Pipes, judgin' from yourn," sweetly replied Johnny, calmly lighting +the cigarette, "are dangerous, unless a man hangs around th' house +_all_ th' time. When I used to go off scoutin', I allus wished th' +other fellers smoked pipes, corncob pipes, like Mister McCullough +carries around. Why, cuss it, I could smell 'em out, _up_-wind, if they +did. It would 'a' saved me a lot of crawlin' an' worryin'. I knowed you +was comin' back ten minutes before I saw you. Now, you can't blame a +skunk--he was born that way, an' he's got good reasons for keepin' on +th' way he was born. But a human, goin' out of his way, to smell like +_some_ I knows of," he broke off, shrugging his shoulders expressively. + +McCullough slowly produced the corncob, blew through the stem with +unnecessary violence, gravely filled and lit it, his eyes twinkling. +"Takes a _man_, I reckon, to enjoy it's aromer," he observed. "Goin' +back to yore medicine bag, let's see what you can get out of it," he +challenged. + +Johnny drew out his buckskin tobacco pouch, placed it on the floor, +covered it with his sombrero and chanted softly, his eyes fixed on the +hat. "I smell a trail-boss an' his pipe. They went to th' bend of th' +crick, an' they says to Pete Holbrook, who rides that section, that +he ought to ride on th' other side of th' crick after dark." He was +repeating information which he had chanced to overhear near the small +corral the night before; when he had passed unobserved in the darkness. + +McCullough favored the hat with a glance of surprise and Johnny with a +keen, prolonged stare. + +"Pete, he said that wouldn't do no good unless he went far enough north +to leave his section unprotected. He borrowed a chew of tobacco before +th' man an' th' pipe went away an' let th' air get pure again." The +medicine man knew Pete's thrifty nature by experience. + +"Yo're shore a good guesser," grunted McCullough. "What about them +smoke signals, that you know all about?" + +Johnny readjusted the hat a hair's breadth, passed his hands over +it and closed his eyes. "I see smoke signals," he chanted. "There's +palefaces in 'em, ridin' cautious at night over a hard plain. They're +driftin' cows into a herd. Th' herd is growin' fast, an' it drifts +toward th' hard ground. Now it's goin' faster. Th' brands are Diamond +L. I see more smoke signals an' more ridin' in th' dark. Another herd, +bigger this time, is runnin' hard over that same plain. Th' brands are +SV, vented; an' plain Question-Mark. It seems near--within a week--an' +it's on yore west range." He opened his eyes, kicked the hat across the +room and pocketed the tobacco pouch. + +"Mac," he said, gravely. "That's a shore-enough prophecy. Leavin' out +all jokin', it's true. Hoppy an' Red told me, a little while ago, that +they overheard some of Kane's gang talkin'. They're goin' to raid you +like I said. Th' smoke signals was me answerin' theirs. They say Sandy +Woods is dead. They ought to know because they buried him. They know +three of th' men that robbed th' bank an' they've knowed ever since +Ridley was shot, who killed him. They've seen Kane's drive trail crew +an' they know a whole lot that I ain't goin' to tell you now; mebby +I'll not tell you till we get th' rewards; but if it'll make you feel +any better, I'm saying' that we're goin' to get them rewards right +soon. When Kane raids you he springs th' trap that'll clear a lot of +vermin off this range." + +"How much of all that do you mean?" demanded the trail-boss, his +odorous pipe out and reeking more than ever. He was looking into his +companion's eyes with a searching, appraising directness which many men +would have found uncomfortable. + +"All of it," complacently answered the medicine man, rolling a new +cigarette. "There's only one thing I'm doubtful about, 'though it was +what Hoppy overheard, so I gave it to you that way. They said yore west +range. If Kane learns how th' Diamond L riders are spread out, an' I'm +bettin' he knew it near as soon as Lukins did, he'll be a fool to drive +that way. If it was me, I'd split my outfit an' put half of 'em on th' +east end! but I'm a gambler." + +McCullough considered the matter. "They'll leave a plain trail if they +raid th' east section," he muttered; "an' th' desert'll hold 'em to +a narrow strip north _or_ south. There's water up th' north way, but +there's people scattered all around, an' they're nat'rally near th' +water. South, there's less water, an' more people th' further they go. +They might tackle th' desert, but Lukins an' me figger they go west +from th' hard ground. I ain't agin' gamblin', but I don't gamble with +anythin' _I_ don't own. If yore friends heard them coyotes say 'west,' +I'm playin' my cards accordin' to their case-rack. I may call it wrong, +I may get a split, or I may win--but I'm backin' the' case-keepers, +'specially when they're keepin' th' rack for _me_. West it is--an' west +is where h--l will pop when they pay their visit. An' lemme tell you +this, Nelson: Win, lose, or split on th' raid, if it comes off within +a week, I'll be dead shore who's behind it, an' there's a cyclone due +in Mesquite right soon after. Twitchell had his chance. His game's no +good--I'm playin' th' cards I've drawn in my own way when they show +their hand in this raid. I'm bein' cold-decked by Corwin--but I'll warm +it a-plenty. You hang around an' see th' fireworks!" + +Johnny stretched, relaxed, and grinned. "I'm aimin' to touch some +off, myself," he replied, "an' I reckon Hoppy an' Red will send up a +couple of rockets on their own account. Rockets?" He grinned. "No; +not rockets--there's allus burned sticks comin' down from rockets. +Besides, they're too smooth an' easy. Reckon they'll touch off some +pinwheels. Whizzin', tail-chasin' pinwheels; or mebby nigger-chasers. +Most likely they'll be nigger-chasers, th' way some folks'll be +steppin' lively to get out of th' way. Don't you bank on this bein' +_yore_ celebration--you'll only own th' lot an' make th' noise. Th' +grand display, th' glorious finish is Bar-20. Just plain, old-fashioned +Bar-20. Gee, Mac, it makes me a kid again!" + +"It's got an easy job, then!" snorted the trail-boss. + + + + + CHAPTER XVII + + A WELL-PLANNED RAID + + +On night shift again Pete Holbrook reached the end of his beat, +waited until his fellow-watcher on the east bulked suddenly out of +the darkness, exchanged a few words with him and turned back under +the star-filled sky, his horse having no difficulty in avoiding +obstructions, but picking its way with ease around scattered thickets, +grass-tufted hummocks, and across shallow ravines and hollows. Objects +close at hand were discernible to eyes accustomed to the darkness and +Pete's range of vision attained the enviable limits enjoyed by those +who live out-of-doors and look over long distances. An occasional patch +of sand moved slowly into his circumscribed horizon as he rode on; +vague, squatting bulks gradually revealed their vegetative nature and +an occasional more regular bulk told him where a cow was lying. These +latter more often were catalogued by his ears before his eyes defined +them and from the contentment in the sounds he nodded in satisfaction. +Soon he felt the gentle rise which swept up to the breeze-caressed +ridge which projected northward and forced the little creek to follow +it for nearly a mile before the rocky obstruction could be passed. + +There had been a time when the ridge had forced the creek again as far +out of its course, but on quiet nights a fanciful listener could hear +the petulant grumblings of the stream and its constant boast. Placid +and slow above the ridge, the waters narrowed and deepened when they +reached the insolent bulk as in concentrating for the never-ending +assault. They had cut through softer resistance along the edges and +now gnawed noisily at the stone itself. Narrower grew the stream and +deeper, the pools clear and with clean rock bottoms and sides where +the hurrying water, now free from the last vestige of color imposed +by the banks further up, became crystal in the light of day. Hurrying +from pool to pool, singing around bowlders it ran faster and faster +as if eager for the final attempt against its bulky enemy, and hissed +and growled as it sped along the abrupt rock face. Loath to leave the +fight, it followed tenaciously along the other side of the ridge and at +last gave up the struggle to turn sharply south again and flow placidly +down the valley on a continuation of the line it had followed above. + +This forced detour made the U-Bend, so called by Question-Mark riders, +and the sloping ground of the ridge was as much a favorite with the +cattle as were its bordering pools with the men. Here could be felt +every vagrant breeze, and while the grass was scantier than that found +on the more level pastures round about, and cropped closer, the cattle +turned toward it when darkness came. It was the best bed-ground on the +ranch. + +The grunting, cud-chewing, or blowing blots grew more numerous as +Holbrook went on and when he had reached the crest of the ridge his +horse began to pick its way more and more to avoid them, the rider +chanting a mournful lay and then followed it with a song which, had +it been rightfully expurged, would have had little left to sing about. +Like another serenade it had been composed in a barroom, but the +barroom atmosphere was strongly in evidence. It suddenly ceased. + +Holbrook stopped the song and his horse at the same instant and his +roving glances roved no more, but settled into a fixed stare which drew +upon itself his earnest concentration, as if the darkness could better +be pierced by an act of will. + +"Did I, or didn't I?" he growled, and looked around to see if his eyes +would show him other lights. Deciding that they were normal he focussed +them again in the direction of the sight which had stopped the song. +"Bronch, I shore saw it," he muttered. "It was plain as it was short." +He glanced down at the horse, saw its ears thrust rigidly forward and +nodded his head emphatically. "An' so did you, or I'm a liar!" + +He was no liar, for a second flash appeared, and it acted on him like a +spur. The horse obeyed the sudden order and leaped forward, careening +on its erratic course as it avoided swiftly appearing obstacles. + +"Seems to me like it was further west th' last time," muttered +Holbrook. "What th' devil it is, I don't know; but I'm goin' to show +th' fambly curiosity. Can't be Kane's coyotes--folks don't usually show +lights when they're stealin' cows. An' it's on Charley's section, but +we'll have a look anyhow. Cuss th' wind." + +The light proved to be of will-o'-the-wisp nature, but he pursued +doggedly and after a time he heard sounds which suggested that he was +not alone on the range. He drew his six-gun in case his welcome should +take that course and swung a little to the left to investigate the +sounds. + +"Must be Charley," he soliloquized, but raised the Colt to a better +position. One would have thought Charley to be no friend of his. The +Colt went up a little higher, the horse stopped suddenly and its rider +gave the night's hailing signal, so well imitated that it might easily +have fooled the little animal to whom Nature had given it. It came back +like a double echo and soon Charley bulked out of the dark. + +"You follerin' that, too?" he asked, entirely reassured now that his +eyes were all right, for he had had the same doubts as his friend. + +"Yes; what you reckon it is?" + +"Dunno," growled Charley. "Thought mebby it was some fool puncher +lightin' a cigarette. It wasn't very bright, an' it didn't last long." + +"Reckon you called it," replied Holbrook. "Well, th' only animal that +lights them is humans; an' no human workin' for this ranch is lightin' +cigarettes at night, _these_ nights. Bein' a strange human where +strange humans shouldn't ought to be, I'm plumb curious. All of which +means I'm goin' to have a closer look." + +"I'm with you," said Charley. "We better stick together or we'll mebby +get to shootin' each other; an' I'm frank in sayin' I'm shootin' +quick tonight, an' by ear. There ain't no honest human ridin' around +out here, day _or_ night, that don't belong here; an' them that does +belong ain't over there, lightin' cigarettes nor nothin' else. That +lightnin' bug don't belong, but he may _stay_ here. Look! There she is +again--_this_ side of where I saw it last!" + +"Same place," contradicted Holbrook, pushing on. + +"Same place yore hat!" + +"Bet you five it is." + +"Yo're on; make it ten?" + +"It is. Shut yore face an' keep goin'. Somethin's happenin' over there." + +Minute after minute passed and then they swore in the same breath. + +"It's south!" exulted Charley. "You lose." + +"He crossed in front of us, cuss him," said Holbrook. + +As he spoke an answering light flashed where the first ones had been +seen and Holbrook grunted with satisfaction. "_You_ lose; there's two +of 'em. We was bettin' on th' other." + +"They're signalin', an' there's mebby more'n two. What's th' +difference? Come on, Pete! We'll bust up this little party before it +starts. But what are they lightin' lights for if they're rustlin'? An' +if they ain't rustlin' what'n blazes _are_ they doin'?" + +"Head over a little," said his companion, forcing his horse against his +friend's. "We'll ride between th' flashes first, an' if there's a herd +bein' collected we'll mebby hit it. Don't ask no questions; just shoot +an' jump yore cayuse sideways." + +South of them another puncher was riding at reckless speed along the +chord of a great arc and although his section lay beyond Holbrook's, he +was now even with them. When they changed their course they drew closer +to him and some minutes later, stopping for a moment's silence so they +could listen for sounds of the enemy, they heard his faint, far-off +signal and answered it. He announced his arrival with a curse and a +question and the answer did not answer much. They went on together, +eager and alert. + +"Heard you drummin' down th' ridge--you know that rocky ground rolls +'em out," the newcomer explained. "Knowed somethin' was wrong th' way +you was poundin', an' follered on a gamble till I saw th' lights. +Reckon Walt ain't far behind me. I'm tellin' you so you'll signal +before you shoot. He's loose out here somewhere." + +When the light came again it was much further west and the answering +flash was north. The three pulled up and looked at each other. + +"There ain't no cayuse livin' can cover ground like that second +feller," growled Holbrook. "He was plumb south only a few minutes ago, +an' _now_ will you look where he is!" + +"Mebby they're ghostes, Bob," suggested Charley, who harbored a +tingling belief in things supernatural. + +"'Ghostes'!" chuckled Holbrook. "Ghosts, you means! Th' same as +'posts!' Th' 'es' is silent, like in 'cows.' I never believed in 'em; +but I shore don't claim to know it all. There's plenty of things _I_ +don't understand--an' this is shore one of 'em. My hair's gettin' +stiff!" + +"Yo're a couple of old wimmin!" snorted Bob. "There's only one kind of +a ghost that'll slow me up--that's th' kind that packs hardware. Seein' +as they ain't supposed to tote guns, I'm goin' for that coyote west of +here. He don't swap ends so fast. Mebby I can turn him into a _real_ +ghost. Look out where you shoot. So-long!" + +"We'll assay his jumpin' friend," called Charley. + +Again the flashes showed, one to the south, the other to the north, and +while the punchers marveled, the third appeared in the southwest. + +"One apiece!" shouted Holbrook. "I'll take th' last. Go to 'em!" and +drumming hoofbeats rolled into silence in three directions. + +Soon spitting flashes in the north were answered in kind, the reports +announcing six-guns in action; in the west a thinner tongue of flame +and a different kind of report was answered by rapid bursts of fire +and the jarring crashes of a Colt. Far to the south three stabbing +flashes went upward, Walt's signal that he was coming. From beyond +the U-Bend, far to the east, the triple signal came twice, flat and +low. Beyond them a yellow glow sprang from the black void and marked +the ranchhouse, where six sleeping men piled from their bunks and, +finishing their dressing as they ran, chased the cursing trail-boss +to the saddled, waiting horses, their tingling blood in an instant +sweeping the cobwebs of sleep from their conjecturing brains. There was +a creaking of leather, a soft, musical jingling of metal and a sudden +thunderous rolling of hoofbeats as seven bunched horses leaped at +breakneck speed into the darkness, the tight-lipped riders eager, grim, +and tense. + +Through a bushy arroyo leading to Mesquite three Mexicans rode as +rapidly as they dared, laughing and carrying on a jerky, exultant +conversation. A mile behind them came a fourth, his horse running like +a frightened jack rabbit as it avoided the obstructions which seemed +to leap at them. A bandage around the rider's head perhaps accounted +for his sullenness. The four were racing to get to Red Frank's, and +safety. Out on the plain the fifth, and as Fate willed it, the only +one of the group openly allied to Kane, lay under his dead horse, +his career of thieving and murder at an end. Close to him was a dead +Question-Mark horse, and the wounded rider, wounded again by his sudden +pitch from the saddle as the horse dropped under him, lay huddled on +the ground. Slowly recovering his senses he stirred, groped and sat up, +his strained, good arm throbbing as he shakily drew his Colt, reloaded +it and fired into the air twice, and then twice more. A burst of firing +answered him and he smiled grimly and settled back as the low rumbling +grew rapidly louder. It threatened to pass by him, but his single shot +caused a quick turn and soon his friends drew up and stopped. + +"Who is it?" demanded McCullough, dismounting at his side. + +"Holbrook," came the answer, shaky and faint. "They got me twice, an' +my cayuse, too. Reckon I busted my leg when he went down--I shore +sailed a-plenty afore I lit." + +"You got one!" called an exultant voice. A match flared and in a moment +the cheerful discoverer called again. "Sanchez, that Greaser monte +dealer of Kane's. Plumb through th' mouth an' neck, Pete! I call that +_shootin'_, with th' dark an' all----" his voice trailed off in profane +envy of the accomplishment. + +But Pete, hardy soul that he was, had fainted, a fractured leg, the +impact from his flying fall and three bullet holes excuse enough for +any man. + +The flaring of the match brought a distant report and a bullet whined +above the discoverer's head. Someone hurriedly fired into the air and +a little later the group heard hoofbeats, which stopped abruptly when +still some distance away. A signal reassured the cautious rider and +soon Walt joined the group, Bob and Charley coming up later. Two of the +men started back to the ranchhouse with Holbrook, the rest of the group +riding off to search the plain for the two riders who had not put in +an appearance, and to see what devilment they might discover. Both of +the missing men were found on the remote part of the western range, one +plodding stolidly toward the ranchhouse, his saddle and equipment on +his shoulders; the other lay pinned under his dead horse, not much the +worse, as it luckily happened, for his experience. + +While the outfit concentrated on the western part of the ranch, events +of another concentration were working smoothly and swiftly east +of the ranchhouse, where mounted men, now free from interference, +thanks to their Mexican friends, rode unerringly in the darkness, and +drifted cattle into a herd with a certainty and dispatch born of long +experience. Steadily the restless nucleus grew in size and numbers, +the few riders who held it together chanting in low tones to keep the +nervous cattle within bounds. The efficiency of these night raiders +merited praise, nefarious as their occupation was, and the director of +the harmonious efforts showed an uncanny understanding of the cattle, +the men, and the whole affair which belongs to genius. Not a step was +taken in uncertainty, not an effort wasted. Speed was obtained which +in less experienced hands would have resulted in panic and a stampede. +Steadily the circle of riders grew shorter and shorter; steadily, +surprisingly, the shadowy herd grew, and as it grew, became more and +more compact. Further down the creek a second and smaller herd was +built up at the same time and with nearly the same smoothness, and +waited for the larger aggregate to drift down upon it and swallow it +up. The augmented trail herd kept going faster and faster, the guarding +and directing riders in their alloted places and, crossing the creek, +it swung northeast at a steadily increasing pace. The cattle had fed +heavily and drunk their fill and to this could be ascribed the evenness +of their tempers. Almost without realizing it they passed from the +Question-Mark range and streamed across the guarding hills, flowing +rapidly along the northern side. Gradually their speed was increased +and they accepted it obediently, and with a docility which in itself +was a compliment to the brains of the trail-boss. Compacted within the +close cordon of the alert riders it maintained a speed on the very edge +of panic, but went no further. Shortly before dawn two hard-riding +rustlers pounded up from the rear, reported all clear, and fell back +again, to renew their watch far back on the trail. For three hours the +herd had crossed hard ground and as it passed over a high, dividing +ridge and down the eastern slope the trail-boss sighed with relief, for +now dawn held no terrors for him. He had passed the eastern horizon +of any keen-eyed watchers of the pillaged range. On went cattle and +riders, and the paling dawn saw them following the hard bottom of a +valley which led to others ahead, and kept them from dangerous sky +lines. When the last hard-floored valley lay behind and sloping hollows +of sand lay ahead, the trail-boss dropped back, uncorked his canteen +of black coffee tempered with brandy, and drank long and deep. It was +interpreted by his men to mean that the danger zone had been left in +the rear, and they smilingly followed his example, and then leisurely +and more critically looked over the herd to see what they had gained. +The entire SV trail herd was there, a large number of Question-Mark +cattle and a score or more miscellaneous brands, which Ridley from +time to time had purchased at bargain prices from needy owners. The +trail-boss grinned broadly and waved his hand. It was a raid which +would go down the annals of rustler history and challenge strongly for +first honors. At noon the waiting caviya was picked up, and Miguel and +his three friends added four more riders to the ranks. He took his +place well ahead of the hurrying cattle, and remained there until the +first, and seldom visited, water-hole was reached, where a short rest +was taken. Then he led the way again, abruptly changing the direction +of the herd's course and, following depressions in the desert floor, +struck for Bitter Spring, which would be reached in the early morning +hours. By now the raid was a successful, accomplished fact, according +to all experience, and the matter of speed was now decided purely +upon the questions of water and food, which, however, did not let it +diminish much. + +The trail-boss dropped back to his _segundo_ and smiled. "Old +Twitchell's got somethin' to put up a holler over _now_." + +The other grinned expansively. "He'll mebby ante up another reward--he +shore is fond of 'em." + +Back on the Question-Mark a sleepy rider jogged along the creek, idly +looking here and there. Suddenly he stiffened in the saddle, looked +searchingly along the banks of the little stream, glanced over a +strangely deserted range and ripped out an oath as he wheeled to race +back to the ranchhouse. His vociferous arrival caused a flurry, out +of which emerged Johnny Nelson, who ran to the corral, caught and +saddled his restive black, and scorning such a thing as a signal fire, +especially when he feared that he could not start it within the limits +of the time specified, raced across the valley, climbed the hills at +a more sedate pace, dropped down the further slopes like a stone, and +raced on again for the little camp on Sand Creek. + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII + + THE TRAIL-BOSS TRIES HIS WAY + + +McCullough watched the racing horseman for a moment, a gleam of envious +appreciation in his eyes at the beautiful action of the black horse, +nodded in understanding of the rider's journey and wheeled abruptly to +give terse orders. + +Charley swung into the saddle and started in a cloud of dust for the +Diamond L, to carry important news to Lukins and his outfit; two men +sullenly received their orders to stay behind for the protection of the +ranch and the care of Pete Holbrook, their feelings in no way relieved +by the remark of the trail-boss, prophesying that Kane and his gang +would be too busy in town to disturb the serenity of the Question-Mark. +The rest of the outfit, procuring certain necessaries for the visit to +Kane's headquarters, climbed into their saddles and followed their grim +and taciturn leader over the shortest way to town. + +Far back on the west end of the northern chain of hills a Mexican +collapsed his telescope, hazarded a long-range shot at the hard-riding +Charley and, mounting in haste, sped to carry disturbing news to his +employer. The courier looked around as the singing lead raised a +puff of dust in front of him, snarled in the direction from whence +he thought it had come and, having no time for personal grievances, +leaned forward and quirted the horse to greater speed. Whirring across +the Diamond L range Charley caused another Mexican, watching from a +ridge overlooking the ranch buildings, to run to the waiting horse and +mount it, after which he delayed his departure until he saw the Diamond +L outfit string out into a race for town, whereupon he set a pace which +promised to hold him his generous lead. + +In Mesquite a Mexican quirted a lathered horse for a final burst of +speed up the quiet street, flung himself through Kane's front door, +shouted a warning as he scrambled to his feet and dashed through the +partition door to make his report direct to his boss. As he bolted +out of sight behind the partition, other men popped from the building +like weasel-pursued rabbits from a warren and scurried over the town +to spread the alarm to those who were most vitally concerned by it. +Two streams forthwith flowed over their trails, the first and larger +heading for Kane's; the other, composed entirely of Mexicans, flowed +toward Red Frank's, which had been allotted the rôle of outlying +redoubt, to help keep harmless the broken ground between it and Kane's +front wall, and was now being put in shape to withstand a siege. + +Around Kane's was the noisy activity of a beehive. Hurrying men pulled +thick planks from the piles under the floor and hauled them, on the +jump, to windows and doors, feeding them into eager hands inside the +building. Numbers of empty sacks grew amazingly bulky from the efforts +of sand shovelers and were carried, shoulder high, in an unending +line into the building. Great shutters were unfastened and swung away +from the outer walls, their cobwebbed loopholes soon to play their +ordained parts. A feverish squad emptied the stables of horses and +food, taking both into the dining-room, and returned, posthaste, to +remove doors and certain planks which turned the stables into sieves of +small use to an attacking force, even if they were won. That the need +for haste was pressing was proved by the sound of a handbell on the +roof, where a selected group of riflemen lay behind the double-planked +parapet to give warning, and exhibitions of long-range shooting. The +shovelers hurled their tools through open windows, the plank carriers +shoved the last board into the building and leaped to the shutters, +slamming them shut as they hastened along the side of the building, +and poured hastily through the front door, which now was protected +by a great, outer door of planks, mortised, bolted, and braced in +workman-like manner. From the roof sounded two heavy reports, and grim +iron tubes slid into loopholes along the walls. The bartenders carried +boxes of ammunition and spare weapons, leaving their offerings below +every oblong hole. To threaten Kane was one thing; to carry it to a +successful end, another. + +Puffs of gray-white smoke broke unexpectedly from points around the +building, to thin out as they spread and drifted into oblivion. The +cracking of rifles and the echo-awakening, jarring reports of heavy +six-guns, were punctuated at intervals by the booming roar of old-time +buffalo guns, of caliber prodigious. Punchers, guns in their hands, +made the rounds of the town, going from building to building to pick +up any of Kane's men who might have loitered, or who planned to hide +out and open fire from the rear. Their efforts were not entirely +wasted, for although Kane's brood had flocked to its nest, there were +certain of the town's inhabitants who were neither flesh nor fish and +might become one or the other as expediency urged. These doubtful ones +were weeded out, disarmed, and escorted to their horses with stern +injunctions as to the speed of their departure and their continued +absence. Some of the neutrals, seeing that the mastery of the town at +present lay with the ranchmen, trimmed their sails for this wind and +numbered themselves with the offense in spirit if not in deeds. Of +these human pendulums Quayle had a fair mental list and the owners of +certain names were well watched. + +The first day passed in perfecting plans, assigning men to strategic +stations, several of these vantage-points remaining tenantless during +the daylight hours because of the alertness and straight shooting +of the squad on Kane's roof, who speedily made themselves obnoxious +to the attackers. The owner of the freight wagon, remembering a +smooth-bore iron cannon of more than an inch caliber, a relic of the +prairie caravans which had followed the old Santa Fe and other trails a +generation past, exulted as he dragged it from its obscurity and spent +a busy hour scaling the rust from bore and touch-hole. Here was the +key to the situation, he boasted, and rammed home a generous charge +of rifle powder. To find a suitable missile was another question, but +he solved it by falling upon bar-lead with ax and hammer. Wheeled +into position, its rusty length protruding beyond the corner of an +adobe building, it was sighted by spasmodic glances, an occupation +not without danger, for which blame could be given to the argus-eyed +riflemen on the roof of the target. Consternation seized the defenders, +who had not allowed for artillery, and they awaited its thundering +début with palpitant interest. + +The discoverer and groom of the relic was unanimously elected gunner, +not a dissenting voice denying his right to the honor, a right which +he failed either to mention or press. The powder heaped over the +touch-hole was jarred off by the impact of a Sharp's bullet and to +replace it required a kitchen spoon fastened to a stick, which was +an alluring if small target to the anxious aerial riflemen. At last +heaped up again, the gunner declined methods in vogue for the firing +of such ancient muzzle-loaders and used a bundle of kerosene-soaked +paper swinging by a wire from the end of the spoon. A few practice +swings were held to be fitting preliminaries to an event of such +importance, and then the nervous cannoneer, screwing his courage to +the sticking-point, swept the blazing mass across the scaly breach and +shrunk behind the sheltering corner. He escaped thunderous destruction +by an eyelash, for what he afterward found was a third of the doughty +weapon whizzed past his corner, taking a large chunk of sun-dried brick +with it. From the besiegers arose guffaws; from the defenders, howls +of derision; and from the owner of the adobe hut, imprecation and +denouncement in fluent Spanish. The wall of his habitation closest to +the fieldpiece justified all he said and even all he thought. + +"You should ought 'a run it under Kane's before you touched her off," +bawled a hilarious voice from cover. "Got another?" he demanded. "Tie +it together an' try again." + +The cannoneer without a job affected gaiety, drew inspiration from the +taunts and hastened home to fashion bombs out of anything he could +which would answer his purpose, finally deciding upon a tomato can and +baling wire, and soon had a task to occupy the flaming fires of his +genius. + +Red Frank's, being the weaker of the two defenses and only point-blank +range from the old adobe jail whose walls, poor as they were, could be +relied upon to stop bullets, formed the favorite point of attack while +the offense settled down into better-ordered channels. Idaho and others +of his exuberant youth decided that it was their "pudding" and favored +it with attentions which were as barren of results as they were full of +enthusiasm. Discovering that their bullets passed entirely through the +frame second-story and whirred, slobbered, and screamed into the air, +they wasted ammunition lavishly, ignorant that for three feet above +the second-story floor the walls were reinforced with double planking +of hard wood, each layer two inches thick. They might turn the upper +two-thirds of walls into a bird cage and do no one any material damage. +And so passed the first day, McCullough's efforts unavailing in face +of the careless enthusiasm of his men, caused by the novelty of the +situation; and not until one man had died and several others received +serious wounds did the larking punchers come fully to realize that the +game was deadly, and due to become more so. + + + + + CHAPTER XIX + + A DESERT SECRET + + +While McCullough argued and swore and waited for sanity to return to +his frisking men, three punchers lay on the desert sands north of +Sweet Spring, and baked. The telescope occasionally swept the southern +horizon and went back between the folds of the blanket, which also +hid the guns from the rays of the molten sun. The situation and most +of the possible variations had been gone over from every angle and a +course of action yet had to be agreed upon. Knowing that a fight in +town was imminent, each feared he would miss it and that the reward +would be lost to them. From their knowledge of deserts in general they +did not wish to assume the labors of driving a herd back across it, +even if they were able to capture it; but neither did they wish to let +it get entirely away and be lost to McCullough. And so they continued +to discuss the problem, jerkily and without enthusiasm, writhing under +the sun like frogs on a gridiron. The afternoon dragged into evening +and with the coming of twilight came quick relief from the heat, soon +to be followed by a cold undreamed of by the inexperienced. The stars +appeared swiftly and blazed with glittering brilliance through the +chill air and the three watchers sought their blanket rolls for relief. + +Hopalong unrolled from his covering and arose. "Dark enough, now," he +said. "I'm goin' down to th' other water-hole to wait for 'em. May +learn somethin' worth while." He rolled his rifle in the blanket to +protect it from sand and stretched gratefully. + +"I'm goin' with you," said Johnny, covering his own rifle. + +"I reckon I'll have to lay up here an' hold th' sack, like a fool," +growled Red, who longed for action, even if it were no more than a +tramp through the sand. + +"You shore called it, Reddie," chuckled Johnny. "Somebody has got to +stay with th' cayuses; an' I don't know anybody as reliable as you. +Don't forget, an' build a camp fire while we're gone," and with this +parting insult Johnny melted into the darkness after his leader and +plodded silently behind him until Hopalong stopped and muttered a +command. + +"We're not far away now," he said. "Reckon we oughtn't get too close +till they come to th' hole an' get settled down. Some of 'em may have +to ride far an' wide if th' herd's ornery, an' run onto us. We've got +th' trumps, an' they're worth twice as much if they don't know we got +'em. They shoot off their mouths regardless out here." + +Johnny grunted his acquiescence and squatted comfortably on his +haunches, the tips of the fingers of one hand in the sand. "Never felt +more like smokin' than I do now," he chuckled. "Got any chewin'?" + +His friend passed over the desired article and Johnny worried off a +generous mouthful. "It's got too many stems in it; but bein' th' first +chew I've had since I got married I ain't kickin'," he complacently +remarked. "Margaret says it sticks to me for hours." + +Hopalong grunted. "Gettin' to be real lady-like, ain't you?" he jeered. +"Put perfumery on yore shirt bosom?" + +"I would if she wanted me to," retorted his companion. "I don't just +know what I wouldn't do if _she_ wanted me to." + +Hopalong snorted. "That so?" he demanded, pugnaciously. "Reckon she +might like to know what yo're doin' down here, how much longer you aim +to stay, an' if yo're still alive--an' other little foolish things like +that. Let me tell you, Kid, you don't know how big a woman fills up +yore life till you've lost her." + +"I can imagine what it would be without her," said Johnny, slowly and +reverently, his heart aching for his friend's loss. "She knows all +about it; nearly all, anyhow. I've writ to her every third day, when +I could, an' sometimes oftener. She may be worryin', but I'm bettin' +every cent I'll ever have that she ain't doin' no cryin'! There ain't +many wimmen like her, even in this kind of country." + +"Then she's shore got Red an' me figgered for a fine pair of liars," +murmured Hopalong; "but just th' same I'm feelin' warmer toward you +than I have for a week," he announced. "When did you tell her all about +this scrambled mess?" + +"When I found that I couldn't tell how much longer I'd have to stay +here," confessed Johnny. "I couldn't write letters an' lie good enough +to fool her; an' I had to write letters, didn't I?" + +"I'll take everythin' back, Kid," said his companion, grinning in the +dark. + +Johnny grunted and the silence began again, a silence which endured for +several hours, such a silence that can exist between two real friends +and be full of understanding. It endured between them and was not +even broken by the distant, dim flare of a match, nor when low sounds +floated up to them and gradually grew into the clicking and rattle of +horns against horns, and the low rumble of many hurrying hoofs--hoofs +hurrying toward the water which bovine nostrils had long since scented. +The rumble grew rapidly as the thirst-tortured herd stampeded for +Bitter Spring. A revolver flashed here and there on the edges of the +animated avalanche and then a sweet silence came to the desert, soon +to be tunefully and pleasantly broken by the soft lowing of cattle leg +deep in the saving water. + + _Let th' air blow in up-on m-e-e,_ + _Let me see th' mid-night s-k-y;_ + _Stand back, Sisters, from a-round m-e-e:_ + _God, it i-s s-o-o h-a-r-d to d-i-e,_ + +wailed a cracked voice, the owner relieving his feelings. "Thorpe, if +you don't wrastle a hot snack d--d quick, I'll eat yore ears!" + +"Give him anythin' to stop that yowlin'," bellowed another. "Can't he +learn nothin' but 'Th' Dyin' Nun'? Thank heaven he never learned no +more of it. A sick calf ain't no cheerfuller than him." + +"You'll have to eat lively, boys," sang out the trail-boss. "Everythin' +is on th' move in an hour. If yo're in such a cussed hurry, Jud, get +some wood for him. Take it from that lame pack horse. Reckon we'll +have to shoot him if he don't get better in a hurry." + + _Up to my knees in mud I go_ + _An' water to my middle;_ + _Whenever firewood's to be got_ + _I'm Cookie's sec-ond fid-dle,_ + +chanted Jud, splashing out to where the lame pack horse conducted +an experiment in saturation. "Hot, cussed hot," he enlightened the +cheerful, but tired group on the bank. "Hot _an'_ oozy. Hello, hoss," +he greeted, slapping the shrinking shoulder. "You heard what th' +boss said about you? Pick up, Ol' Timer; pick up or you'll get shot. +What? Don't blame you a bit, not a cussed bit. _I_'d ruther be shot, +too, than tote wood over this part of h--l. Oh, well; life's plumb +funny. You'll fry if you do, an' you'll die if you don't. What's th' +difference, anyhow, Ol' Timer?" + +"Hey, Jud," called a voice. "Got a new bunkie?" + +"I could have worse than a cayuse," replied Jud. "A cussed sight worse." + +"There's mocassins, rattlers, copperheads, tarantulas, an' scorpions in +that pond!" warned another. + +"You done forgot Gila monsters, tigers an'--an'--Injuns," retorted +Jud. "Now comes a job. With both arms full of slippin', criss-crossin' +firewood, th' rest slidin' from th' pack, I got to hang on to what +I got, put th' rest back like it ought to go an' make everythin' +tight. Come out here, some d--d fool, an' gimme a hand. Better move +lively--only got four arms an' six hands. There!" he exploded. "There +goes th' shootin'-match off th' hoss. Th' wind'll blow 'em ashore an' +we can pick up th' whole caboodle." + +"Wind?" jeered the snake-enumerator. "Where's th' wind? Yo're a fool!" + +"On th' bank, where yo're settin', you thick-headed ass!" yelled Jud. +"You got so cussed much to say, suppose you muddy yore lily-white pants +an' do somethin' besides bray!" + +"Did you spill any of 'em, Jud?" anxiously asked a voice. "I heard a +splash." + +Jud's reply was such that the trail-boss snapped a warning which +checked some of the conversation, and promised his help. "Wait for me, +Jud; I'm comin'," he said. + +"Why don't you send that white-washed idol?" asked Jud. "I'll show him +who's th' fool; an' what a splash sounds like!" + +Hopalong nudged his companion and they crept forward, feeling before +them for anything which might make a sound if stepped on. A vibrant +_whirl_ made them spring back and go around the warning snake, and soon +they reached the little, sandy ridge which had sheltered Hopalong on +his other visit. + +"I'm glad you hung on to what you had, Jud," came Thorpe's thankful +voice as his match caught the sun-baked wood and sent a tiny flame +licking upward among the shavings whittled by his knife. "What you do +you allus do right. It's dry as a bone." + +"An' so am I," grunted the horse wrangler. "Who's got their canteen?" + +"He's askin' for a canteen, with th' whole pond in front of him!" +laughed a squatting rustler. "Here; take mine." + +The fire grew quickly and a coffeepot, staunch friend of weary +travelers, was placed in the flame, no one caring what it looked like +or how hot the handle got. Time passed swiftly in talking of the raid +and in consuming the light, hurried meal and soon the wrangler argued +to his charges from the bank, and then waded in for his own horse, +after which the matter was much simplified. He had them bunched, the +next change of horses had been cut out by the men and they were ready +to resume the drive when a distant voice hailed them. Soon a lathered +horse glistened in the outer circle of light, and the hard-riding +courier dashed up to the fire. + +"They've hit th' town, boys!" he shouted. "Th' Question-Mark an' th' +Diamond L have joined hands agin' us. Their friends in town are backin' +'em. Kane says to drive this herd hell-to-leather to th' valley, leave +it there an' burn th' trail back. Where's Hugh Roberts?" + +"Here," answered the trail-boss, stepping forward. "Hello, Vic." + +"Got strict orders from th' boss," said Vic, leaning over and +whispering in the ear of the trail-boss. + +Roberts stiffened and swore angrily. "Is _that_ all he says for us to +do?" he sneered. "I got a notion to tell him to go to h--l!" + +Eager questions assailed him from the pressing group and he pushed +himself free. "He says we are to take Quayle's hotel, their +headquarters, from th' rear at dawn of th' day we get back--an' _hold_ +it! _That's_ all!" + +An angry chorus greeted the announcement and the shouting courier had +a hard time to make himself heard, "That's wins for us!" he yelled. +"You get their leaders, you split 'em in two--an' Kane'll turn his +boys loose to hit 'em during th' confusion. He's got a wise head, I'm +shoutin'. Red Frank's gang smashes from th' west end, an' they'll never +know what happened. We'll have 'em split three ways, leaderless, not +knowin' what's happened. It'll be a stampede an' a slaughter. Cuss it, +_I_'ll be with you! That shows what _I_ think of it!" + +"Throw th' herd back on th' trail," ordered the boss. "We'll drive +hard, an' turn th' rest of it over in our minds as we go. So we can +have yore valuable assistance yo're goin' with us. Get a fresh cayuse +from th' caviya. I say, _yo're goin' with us_, savvy?" + +Covered by the noise of the renewed drive Hopalong and Johnny wriggled +back until they could with safety arise to their feet, when they +hastened back to Red and tersely reported what they had learned. Red's +reply was instant. + +"One of us has got to learn where that herd is kept; th' others light +out for McCullough. Th' herd trailer can go to town when he gets it +located. We can't lose them cattle, now." + +"Right!" said Hopalong. "I'm puttin' cartridges in my hand. Th' worst +guesser goes after th' herd. Odd or even. Red, you first," and he +placed his clenched fist in Red's hand. + +"Even," said Red, and then he opened the fist, felt of the cylinders +and chuckled. There were two. + +Hopalong fumbled at his belt and placed his fist in Johnny's hand. +"Call it, Kid," he said. + +"Even," said Johnny, carelessly. He felt the closed hand slowly open +and cast his fingers over its palm, finding two cartridges, and he +grunted. "Better take th' extra canteens, Hoppy; an' that spyglass. +It'll mebby come in handy. Want Pepper?" + +"Just 'cause she's a good cayuse for you don't say that she is for me," +chuckled the loser. "She knows you; I'm a stranger," and he led the +way to the picketed and hobbled horses. In a few minutes he swung into +the saddle, the telescope under his arm, cheerily said his good-byes +and melted into the darkness, bound further into the desert, where or +how far he did not know. Passing the southern water-hole he drew two +cartridges from his belt, placed one in the palm of his right hand and +held the other between his fingers. Slowly opening the clenched fist he +relaxed the fingers and the second cartridge dropped onto its mate with +a little click. There was no need to cough now and hide that slight, +metallic noise, so he grinned instead and slowly pushed them back into +the vacant loops. + +"Fine job, lettin' th' Kid go out on this skillet," he snorted, +indignant at the thought. "Me, now--it don't matter a whole lot what +happens to me these days; but th' Kid's got a wife, an' a darned fine +one, too. Go on, you lazy cow--yo're work's just _startin'_." + +It was not long before he caught the noise of the hard-driven herd well +off to his right and he followed by sound until dawn threatened. Then, +slowing his horse, he rode off at an angle and hunted for low places +in the desert floor, where he went along a course parallel to that +followed by the herd. Persistently keeping from sky lines, although +added miles of twisting detours was the price, and keeping so far from +his quarry that he barely could pick out the small, dark mass with the +aid of the glass, he feared no discovery. So he rode hour after weary +hour under the pitiless sun, stopping only once to turn his sombrero +into a bucket, from which his horse eagerly drank the contents of one +huge canteen, its two gallons of water filling the hat several times. + +"Got to go easy with it for awhile, bronch," he told it. "Water can't +be so terrible far ahead, judgin' from that herd pushin' boldlike +across this strip of h--l--but cows can go a long time without it +when they has to; an' out here they shore has to. I'm not cheatin' +you--there's four for you an' one for me, an' we won't change it." + +Mile upon burning mile passed in endless procession as they plodded +through hard sand, soft sand, powdery dust, and over stretches of +rocky floor blasted smooth and slippery by the cutting sands driven +against it by every wind for centuries. An occasional polished bowlder +loomed up, its coat of "desert-varnish" glistening brown under the +pale, molten sun. He knew what the varnish was, how it had been drawn +from the rock and the mineral contents left behind on the surface as +its moisture evaporated into the air. An occasional "side-winder," +diminutive when compared to the rattlesnakes of other localities, slid +curiously across the sand, its beady, glittering eyes cold and vicious +as it watched this strange invader of its desert fastness. + +Warned at last by the fading light after what had seemed an eternity +of glare, he gave the dejected horse another canteen of water and then +urged it into brisker pace, to be within earshot of the fleeing herd +when darkness should make safe a nearer approach. + +With the coming of twilight came a falling of temperature and when the +afterglow bathed the desert with magic light and then faded as swiftly +as though a great curtain had been dropped the creeping chill took +bold, sudden possession of the desert air to a degree unbelievable. So +passed the night, weary hour after cold, weary hour; but the change +was priceless to man and beast. The magic metamorphosis emphasized the +many-sided nature of the desert, at one time a blazing, glaring thing +of sinister aspect and death-dealing heat; at another cold, almost +freezing, its considerable altitude being good reason for the night's +penetrating chill. The expanse of dim gray carpet, broken by occasional +dark blots where the scrawny, scattered vegetation arose from the +sands, stretched away into the veiling dark, allowing keen eyes to +distinguish objects at surprising distances. Overhead blazed the +brilliant stars, blazed as only stars in desert heavens can, seeming +magnified and brought nearer by the dry, clear air. His eyes at last +free from the blinding glare of quivering air and glittering crystals +of salts in the sand; his dry, parched, burning skin free from the +baking heat, which sucked moisture from the pores before perspiration +could form on the surface; he sucked in great gulps of the vitalizing, +cold air and found the night so refreshing, so restful as to almost +compensate for the loss of sleep. + +The increased pace of his mount at last brought reward, for there now +came from ahead and from the right the low, confused noise of hurrying +cattle, as continuous, unobtrusive, and restful as the soft roar of +a distant surf. So passed the dark hours, and then a warning, silver +glow on the eastern horizon caused him to pull up and find a sandy +depression, there to wait until the proper distance was put behind it +by the thirsty herd, still reeling off the miles as though it were +immune to fatigue. The silver band widened swiftly, changed to warmer +tints, became suffused with crimson and cast long, thin, vague, warning +shadows from sage bush and greasewood--and then a molten, quivering orb +pushed up over the prostrate horizon and bathed the shrinking sands +with its light. + +The cold, heavy-lidded rider glowered at it and removed the blanket +which had been wrapped around him, rolling it tightly with stiff +fingers and fumblingly made it secure in the straps behind the cantle +of his saddle. + +"There it is again, bronch," he growled. "We'll soon wonder if th' cold +was all a dream." + +He stood up in the stirrups and peered cautiously over the bank of the +depression, making out the herd with unaided eyes. + +"They can't go on another day," he muttered. "This ain't just dry trail +it's a chunk out of h--l. They can't stand much more of it without +goin' blind, an' that's th' beginnin' of th' end on a place like this. +I'm bettin' they get to water by noon--an' then _we_ got to wait till +th' coast is clear." He shook the canteen he had allotted himself and +growled again. "About a quart, an' I could drink a gallon! All right, +bronch; get a-goin'," and on they plodded, keeping to the hollows +and again avoiding all elevations, to face the torments of another +murderous day. Again the accursed hours dragged, again the horse had +a canteen of water, a sop which hardly dulled the edge of its raging +thirst. Earth, air, and sky quivered, writhed and danced under the +jelly-like sun and the few, soft night noises of the desert were heard +no more. The leveled telescope kept the herd in sight as mile followed +mile across the scorched and scorching sand. + +The sun had passed the meridian only half an hour when the sweeping +spyglass revealed no herd, but only a distant ridge of rock, like a +tiny island on a stilled sea. + +"It shore is time," muttered the rider, dismounting. "Seein' as how +we're nearly there, I reckon you can have th' last canteen. You shore +deserve it, you game old plodder. An' I'm shore glad them rustlin' +snakes have their orders to get back _pronto_; but it would just be our +luck if that bull-headed trail-boss held a powpow in that valley of +theirs. His name's Roberts, bronch; Hugh Roberts, it is. We'll remember +his name an' face if he makes us stay out here till night. You an' me +have got to get to that water before another sunrise if all th' thieves +in th' country are campin' on it--we _got_ to, that's all." + +An hour passed and then the busy telescope showed a diminutive +something moving out past the far end of the distant ridge. Despite +the dancing of the heat-distorted image on the object-glass the grim +watcher knew it for what it was. Another and another followed it and +soon the moving spots strung out against the horizon like a crawling +line of grotesque, fantastic insects, silhouetted against the sky. + +"There they go back to Mesquite to capture Quayle's hotel an' win th' +fight," sneered Hopalong. "I could tell 'em somethin' that would send +them th' other way--but we'll let 'em ride with Fate; an' get to that +water as quick as yore weary legs can take us. Th' herd is there, +bronch; all alone, waitin' for us. It's our herd now, if we want it, +which we don't. Huh! Mebby they left a guard! All right, then; he's got +a big job on his hands. Come on; get a-goin'!" + +Swinging more and more to the south he soon forsook the windings of +the hollows and struck boldly for the eastern end of the valley, and +when he reached it he hobbled and picketed the horse, frantic with +the heavy scent of water in its crimson, flaring nostrils, and went +ahead on foot, the hot Sharp's in his hands full cocked and poised for +instant action. Crawling to the edge of the valley he inched forward +on his stomach and peered over the rim. An exclamation of surprise and +incredulity died in his throat as the valley lay under his eyes, for it +was the valley he had seen in the mirage only a few days before. + +The stolen herd filled the small creek, standing like statues, soaking +in the life-giving fluid and nosing it gently. One or two, moving +restlessly, blundered against those nearest them and the watcher knew +that they had gone blind. The sharpest scrutiny failed to discover +any guard, and he knew that his uncertain count of the kaleidoscopic +riders had been correct. Hastening back to the restless horse he soon +found that it had in reserve a strength which sent it flashing to the +trail's edge and down the dangerous ledge at reckless speed. At last in +the creek it, too, stood as though dazed and nosed the water a little +before drinking. + +Hopalong swung into the stream, removed saddle and bridle and then +splashed across to the hut, dumping his load, canteens, and all against +the front wall. To make assurance doubly sure he scouted hurriedly down +one side of the little valley, crossed the creek and went back along +the other wall. + +Thorpe's carefully stacked firewood provided fuel for a cunningly +built-up fire; one of Thorpe's discarded tomato cans, washed and filled +in the spring near the hut's walls sizzled and sputtered in the blazing +fire and soon boiled madly. Picking it out of the blaze with the aid of +two longer sticks the hungry cook set it to one side, threw in a double +handful of Thorpe's coffee, covered it with another washed can and then +placed Thorpe's extra frying pan on the coals, filling it with some +of Thorpe's bacon. A large can of Thorpe's beans landed close to the +fire and rolled a few feet, and the cheerful explorer emerged from the +hut with a sack of sour-dough biscuits which the careless Thorpe had +forgotten. + +"Bless Thorpe," chuckled Hopalong. "I'll never make him climb no more +walls. I wouldn't 'a' made him climb that one, mebby, if I'd knowed +about this." + +Looking around as a matter of caution, his glance embracing the stolid +herd and his own horse grazing with the jaded animals left behind by +the rustlers, he fell to work turning the bacon and soon feasted until +he could eat no more. Rolling a cigarette he inhaled a few puffs and +then, picking up telescope and rifle, he grunted his lazy way up the +steep trail and mounted the ridge, sweeping the western horizon first +with the glass and then completed the circle. Satisfied and drowsy he +returned to the valley, spread his folded blanket behind the hut, +placed the saddle on one end of it for a pillow and lay down to fall +asleep in an instant. + +When he awakened he stretched out the kinks and looked around in the +dim light. He felt unaccountably cold and he looked at the blanket +which he had pulled over him some time during his sleep, wondering why +he had felt the need for it during the daylight hours in such a place +as this. + +"Well, I'll cook me some more bacon before it gets dark, an' then set +up with a nice little fire, with a 'dobe wall at my back. It'll be a +treat just to set an' smoke an' plan, th' night chill licked by th' +fire an' my happy stomach full of bacon, beans, an' biscuits--an' +coffee, cans an' cans of coffee." + +It suddenly came to him that the light was growing stronger instead of +weaker, that it was not the afterglow, and that the chill was dying +instead of increasing. Shocked by a sudden suspicion he glanced into +the eastern sky and stared stupidly, surprised that he had not noticed +it before. + +"I was so dumb with sleep that I didn't savvy east from west," he +muttered. "It's daylight, 'stead of evenin'--I've slept all afternoon +an' night! Well, I don't see how that changes th' eatin' part, anyhow. +No wonder I pulled th' blanket over me, an' no wonder I was stiff." + +With the coming of the sun a disagreeable journey loomed nearer and +nearer but, as he told the horse when cinching the saddle on its back, +the return trip would not be one of uncertainty; nor would they be held +down to such a slow pace by any clumsy herd. A further thought hastened +his movements: there was a big fight going on in Mesquite, and his +two friends were in it without him. Looking around he saw that he had +cleaned up and effaced all signs of his visit and, filling the canteens +and fastening them into place, he mounted and rode up the steep slope, +turned his back to the threatening sun and loped westward along a plain +and straight trail, a grim smile on his face. + + + + + CHAPTER XX + + THE REDOUBT FALLS + + +After Hopalong had ridden off on his desert trailing, Johnny and Red +rode to the Question-Mark, reaching it a little after daylight and +were promptly challenged when near the smaller corral. The sharp voice +changed to a friendly tone when the sentry had a better look at the +pair. + +"Thought you'd be up with th' circus," said the Question-Mark puncher. + +"On our way now," replied Johnny. "Come down here to learn what was +happenin'. Meet Red Connors, an old friend of Waffles." + +"Howd'y," grunted the puncher, looking at Red with a keener interest. +"You fellers are lucky--_we_ got to stay here an' miss it all. Walt +come down last night an' said Kane's goin' to be a hard nut to crack. +He's fixed up like a fort." + +"Reckon we'll take a look at it," said Johnny, wheeling. + +"Hey! If you want to find Mac, he's hangin' out at Quayle's." + +Johnny waved his thanks and rode on with his cheerful companion. +In due time they heard the distant firing and not much later rode +up to Quayle's back door and went in. McCullough was raging at the +effectiveness of the sharpshooters on Kane's roof who had succeeded +in keeping the fight at long range and who dominated certain strategic +positions which the trail-boss earnestly desired to make use of; all of +which made him irritable and unusually gruff. + +"Where _you_ been?" he demanded as Johnny entered. + +"Locatin' a missin' herd of yore cattle," retorted Johnny, nettled by +the tone. "They're waitin' for you when you get time to go after 'em. +Now we'll locate them sharpshooters. Anythin' else you can't do, let us +know. Come on, Red," and he went out again, his grinning friend at his +heels. At the door Red checked him. + +"Looks like a long-range job, Kid. My gun's all right for closer work, +but I ought to have a Sharp's for this game." + +Johnny wheeled and went back. "Gimme a Sharp's," he demanded. + +"Take Wilson's--they got him yesterday," growled the trail-boss, +pointing. + +Johnny took the gun and the cartridge belt hanging on it, joined Red +and led the way to a place he had in mind. Reaching the selected spot, +an adobe hut on the remote outskirts of the sprawled town, he stopped. +"This is good enough for me," he grunted, "except th' range is too +cussed long. Well, we'll try it from here, anyhow." + +"I'm goin' to th' next shack," replied Red, moving on. "We'll use our +old follow-shootin'--an' make 'em sick. Ready? I'm goin' to cross th' +open." At his friend's affirmative grunt Red leaned over and dashed for +the other adobe. A bullet whined in front of him, barely heard above +the roar of Johnny's rifle. He settled down, adjusted the sights and +proceeded to prove title to his widely known reputation on other ranges +of being the best rifle-shot of many square miles. "Make a hit, Kid?" +he called. "It's mebby further than you figger." + +"It is," answered Johnny. "Like old times, huh? Lord help 'em when you +get started! Are you all set? I'm ready to draw 'em." + +"Wind gentle, from th' east," mumbled Red. "Dirty gun--got to shoot +higher. All right," he called, nestling the heavy stock. + +Johnny pushed his rifle around the corner of the building, aimed +quickly and fired. A hatted head arose above Kane's roof and a puff of +smoke spurted into the air above it as Red's Sharp's roared. The hat +flew backward and the head ducked down again, its owner surprised by +the luck of the shot. + +Johnny laughed outright. "For a trial shot I'm admittin' that was a +whizzer. I ain't no slouch with a Sharp's--but how th' devil you can +make one behave like _you_ do is a puzzle to me." + +"I'm still starin'," said a humorous, envious voice behind them and +they looked around to see Waffles hugging the end of the building. "If +I can get over on Red's right I'll help make targets for him." + +"Walk right over to that other shack," called Johnny. "Yo're safe as if +you was home in yore bunk. Cover him, Red." + +Waffles' mind flashed back into the past and what it presented to him +greatly reassured him, but to walk was tempting Providence; he ran +across the open and again Red's rifle roared. + +"Got him!" yelled Johnny, staring at the body lying over the distant +parapet. It was swiftly pulled back out of sight. The rest of Johnny's +words were profanely eulogistic. + +"Shut yore face," growled Red. "It was plumb luck." + +"_Shore_ it was," laughed his friend in joyous irony; "but yo're allus +makin' 'em. That's what counts." + +Waffles, having gained the shelter he coveted, looked around. "Heads +was plentiful up there yesterday. There was allus one or two bobbin' +up. I'm bettin' they'll be scarcer today." + +"They'll be scarcer tomorrow, when we are behind them other shacks," +replied Red. "They're easy three hundred paces nearer, an' that's a lot +sometimes." + +"An' twice as much to them," rejoined Johnny. "Th' nearer you get th' +more you make it even terms. You stay where you are--me an' Waffles'll +go out there tonight." + +When the afternoon dragged to an end Red had another sharpshooter +to his credit, and the dominating group on the roof were much less +dominant. They cursed the long-range genius who shot hats off of heads, +clipped ears, and had killed two men. The shooting, with a rest and +plenty of time to aim, would have been creditable enough; but to hit a +bobbing head meant quick handling. They were properly indignant, for +it was a toss-up with Death to show enough of their heads to sight a +slanting rifle. One of their number, whose mangled ear was bound up +with a generous amount of bandage, savagely hammered the chisel with +which he was cutting a loophole through four inches of seasoned wood, +vowing vengeance on the man who had ruined his looks. + +The light failing for close shooting, the three friends left their +positions and went to the hotel for a late supper, Red receiving +envious, grinning looks as he entered the dining-room. Idaho promptly +forsook his bosom friends and went over to finish his meal at the table +of the newcomers. + +"We got Red Frank's place plumb full of holes--you can see daylight +through th' second floor," he announced; "but it don't seem to do no +good. If I could get close enough to use a bomb I got, we might clean +'em up." + +"Crawl up in th' dark," suggested Waffles. + +"Can't; they spread flour all around th' place, an' th' minute a man +crosses it he shows up plain. Two of us found out _all_ about _that_!" + +"Go through or over th' buildin's this side of th' place," said Johnny, +visualizing the street. "They lead up close to Red Frank's." + +Idaho stared, and slapped his thigh in enthusiastic endorsement. "I +reckon you called it!" he gloated. "Wait till I tell th' boys," and he +hastened back to his friends. Judging from the sudden noise coming from +the table, his friends were of the same opinion and, bolting the rest +of the meal, they hastened away to forthwith try the plan. + +McCullough entered the dining-room and strode straight to Johnny. "Did +I hear you say you know where my cattle are?" he asked, sitting down. + +Johnny nodded, chewed hurriedly and replied. "I didn't finish it. _I_ +don't know where they are, but Hopalong is trailin' 'em, an' _he_'ll +know when he comes back. Pay us them rewards now, instead of later, an' +I'll do some high an' mighty guessin' about yore head--an' bet you th' +rewards that I guess right." + +The trail-boss laughed. "You've shore got plenty of nerve," he +retorted. "When this fight is over there won't be no rewards paid. We +got th' whole gang in them two buildin's, an' we got 'em good. You've +had yore trouble for nothin', Nelson." + +"How 'bout th' gang that are with th' herd?" asked Johnny, a note of +anger edging his words. + +McCullough shrugged his shoulders. "I ain't worryin' about +them--they'll never come back to Mesquite." + +"That so?" queried Johnny, sarcastically. "I ought to keep my mouth +shut, th' way yo're talkin', but I hate to see good men killed. I'll +bet you they'll come back just at dawn, some time in th' next five +days. An' I'll bet you they'll sneak up on this hotel an' raise th' +devil, while Kane starts a bunch from his place and Red Frank's, to +help 'em. Th' minute they start shootin' in here their friends'll +sortie out an' carry th' fight to you. Want to bet on it?" + +McCullough regarded the speaker through narrowed lids. "How do you +figger that?" he demanded suspiciously. "You gettin' that out of yore +medicine bag, too?" and then he eagerly drank in every word of the +explanation. After a moment's thought he looked around the room and +then back to the smiling Johnny. "Much obliged, Nelson. I'm beginnin' +to see that I owe you fellers somethin', after all. If them fellers we +want were loose an' you got 'em, then of course th' reward would stand; +but you can't win it very well when we've got 'em corraled. Who-all is +in that bunch with th' herd?" + +Johnny smiled but shook his head. + +"Didn't you say you knowed who killed Ridley?" persisted the trail-boss. + +"I know him, an' how he did it. Hopalong saw him while his gun was +smokin', but didn't know what he had shot at till later." + +"Why didn't you tell me, an' earn that reward right away?" + +"That's only half of th' rewards," replied Johnny. "There's money up +for th' fellers that robbed th' bank. If we got Ridley's murderer th' +others might 'a' smelled out what we was after. You see, I was robbed +of more than eleven hundred dollars th' first night I was in town. +Th' money belonged to th' ranch. Th' only chance I had of gettin' it +back was to make th' rewards big enough to stand three splits that +would be large enough to cover it. An' I'm still goin' to do that, +Mac. Pay it now an' we'll stick with you till you get th' men an' yore +herd. Of course, yo're going to get th' herd, anyhow, as far as we are +concerned. I ain't holdin' that over yore head; I'm only tryin' to show +you why I can't be open an' free with you." + +"I couldn't pay th' rewards now even if I wanted to," said the +trail-boss. + +"I know that, an' I didn't think you would. I was only showin' you how +things are with us." + +McCullough nodded, placed a hand on the speaker's shoulder and arose, +turning to Red. "Connors," he said, "yo're a howlin' wonder with a +Sharp's. Much obliged for holdin' down that roof. If you can clean 'em +up there this fight'll go on a cussed sight faster. Th' cover on th' +north side of Kane's is so poor that we can't do much out there, but we +can do a little better when them sharpshooters are driven down. From +what I know of you two, yore friend Cassidy is shore able to trail that +herd. I've quit worryin' about everythin' but th' fight here in town. +An' lemme make a long speech a little longer: If you fellers can earn +them rewards I won't waste no time in payin' up; but there ain't a +chance for you. We got 'em under our guns." + +"Who was right about where that raid on you was goin' to take place?" +asked Johnny. "You was purty shore about that, too, wasn't you?" + +The trail-boss smiled and shook his head. "Yo're a good guesser," he +admitted, and went out to consult with Lukins. + +The next day found the line a little tighter around the stronghold, +thanks to Red's shooting, which increased in accuracy after he had +decided to use closer cover and cut three hundred paces out of the +range. Better positions had been gained by the attackers during the +night, some of the more daring men now being not far from point-blank +range, which enabled them to make the use of Kane's loopholes +hazardous. To the north another rifleman lay in a hollow of the sandy +plain, but too far away to do much damage. The north parapet of the +building was hidden from Red by the one on the south and the aerial +marksmen made free use of it. + +Red Frank's place was in jeopardy, for Idaho and his enthusiastic +companions were in the building next on the south, separated from the +Mexican's house by less than twenty feet. There was an open window +facing the gambling-house and Idaho, chancing quick glances through +it, noticed that one of the heavy, board shutters of a window of the +upper floor sagged out a little from the top. Signaling the men behind +the jail to increase their fire, he coiled his rope and cast it through +the window. It struck the upper edge of the shutter, dropped behind it +and grew swiftly taut. Two of his companions added their strength to +his, while the other two covered them by pouring a heavy revolver fire +at the two threatening loopholes. The shutter creaked, twisted, and +then slowly gave way, finally breaking the lower hinge and sailing over +against the other house to a cheer from the jail. Heavy firing came +through the uncovered window, the bullets passing through the opposing +wall and driving the Diamond L men to other shelter. Here they waited +until it died down and then, picking up the bomb made by the owner of +the new freight wagon, Idaho lit the jumpy, uncertain fuse, waited as +long as he dared and hurled it across the intervening space and through +the shutterless window as the opening was being boarded up. There was a +roar, jets of smoke spurt from windows and holes and the wild cursing +of injured men rang out loudly. A tongue of flame leaped through a +trapdoor on the roof and grew rapidly brighter. At intervals the smoke +pouring up became suddenly heavy and thick, but cleared quickly between +the onslaughts of the water buckets. Fire now crept through the side of +the frame structure and mounted rapidly, and such a hail of lead poured +through the smoke-spurting, upper loopholes that it became impossible +for the buckets to be properly used. It was only a matter of time +before the blazing roof and floor would fall on the defenders in the +adobe-walled structure below, and through a loophole Red Frank suddenly +shoved out a soiled towel fastened on the end of a rifle barrel. + +"Come ahead, with yore hands up!" shouted a stentorian voice from the +jail. "Quit firin', boys; they're surrenderin'." Almost on the tail of +his words a hurrying line of choking Mexicans, bearing their wounded, +streamed from the front door. They were promptly and proudly escorted +by the hilarious attackers to safe quarters on the southern outskirts +of the town. + + + + + CHAPTER XXI + + ALL WRAPPED UP + + +McCullough and Lukins drew men from the cordon around the gambling-hall +until the line was thinned and stretched as much as prudence allowed, +covering only the more strategic positions, while the men taken from +it were placed in an ambuscade at the rear of Quayle's hotel. Both +leaders would have preferred to have placed their reception committee +nearer the outskirts of the rambling town but, not knowing from which +direction the attack would come and not being able to spare men enough +for outposts around the town, they were forced to concentrate at the +object of the attack. When night fell and darkness hid the movement +they set the trap, gave strict orders for no one to approach the rear +of the hotel during the dark hours, and waited expectantly. + +The first night passed in quiet and the following day found the cordon +reenforced until it contained its original numbers. By nightfall of +the second day Red, Johnny, and Waffles had cleared the parapet and +made it useless during daylight, and as the moon increased in size +and brightness the parapet steadily became a more perilous position +at night for the defenders. All three marksmen, now ensconced within +three hundred yards of the gambling-house and out of the line of sight +of every lower loophole, had the range worked out to a foot. Red and +Waffles had discarded their borrowed Sharp's and were now using their +own familiar Winchesters, and it was certain death to any man who tried +to shoot from Kane's roof on any side but the north one. + +Evening came and with it came a hair-brained attempt by Idaho and his +irrepressibles to capture and use the stables. Despite McCullough's +orders to the contrary the group of youngsters, elated by their +success against Red Frank's, made the attempt as soon as darkness +fell; and learned with cost that the stables were stacked decks. One +man was killed and all the others wounded, most of them so badly as to +remove them from the rôle of combatants; but one dogged, persistent, +and vindictive unit of the foolish attack managed to set fire to the +sun-dried structures before crawling away. + +The baked wood burned like tinder and became a mass of flames almost in +an instant, and for a few minutes it looked as though they would take +the gambling-hall with them. It was a narrow squeak and missed only +because of a slight shift of the wind. The scattered line of punchers +to the north of the building, not expecting the sudden conflagration, +had crawled nearer to the gambling-hall in the encroaching darkness, +only to find themselves suddenly revealed to their enemies by the +towering sheets of flame. They got off with minor injuries only because +the north side of the building was not well manned and because the +stables were holding the attention of most of the besieged. When the +flames died down almost as swiftly as they had grown, the smouldering +ashes gave a longer and less obstructed view to the guards of +Kane's east wall and rendered useless certain positions cherished by +McCullough. + +The trail-boss, seething with anger, stamped up to Lukins and roared +his demands, with the result that Idaho and the less injured of his +companions were sent to take the places of cooler heads in the ambush +party and were ordered to stay in Quayle's stable until after the +expected attack. + +In Quayle's kitchen four men waited through the dragging hours, +breaking the silence by occasional whispers as they watched the +faintly lighted open spaces and the walls of certain buildings newly +powdered with flour so as to serve as backgrounds and to silhouette +any man passing in front of them. Only the north walls had been dusted +and there was nothing to reveal their freshly acquired whiteness to +unsuspecting strangers coming up from the south. In the stable Idaho +and his restless friends grumbled in low tones and cursed their +inactivity. Three men at the darkened office windows, and two more on +the floor above watched silently. Outside an occasional shot called +forth distant comment, and laughter arose here and there along the +alert line. + +On the east end of the line a Diamond L puncher, stretched out on his +stomach in a little depression he had scooped in the sand during the +darker hours of the second night, stuck the end of his little finger +in a bullet hole in his canteen and rimmed the hole abstractedly, the +water soaking his clothes making him squirm. + +"Cuss his hide," he growled. "Now I got to stay thirsty." He slid a +hand down his body and lifted the clinging clothing from the small of +his back. "If it was only as cold as that when I _drink_ it, I wouldn't +grumble. An' I wasn't thirsty till he spilled it," he added in petulant +afterthought. + +To his right two friends crouched behind the aged ruins of an adobe +house, paired off because one of them shot left-handed, which fitted +each to his own corner. "Got any chewin'?" asked Righthand. "Chuck it +over. Seems to me that they--" he set his teeth into the tobacco, tore +off a generous quantity and tossed the plug back to its owner--"ain't +answerin' as strong as they was this afternoon." + +"No?" grunted Lefthand, brushing sand from the plug. He shoved it back +into a pocket and reflected a moment. "It was good shootin' while th' +stable burned." Another pause, and then: "Did you hear Billy yell when +them fools started th' fire?" + +Righthand laughed, stiffened, fired, and pumped the lever of the gun. +"I'm gettin' so I can put every one through that loophole. Hear him +squawk?" He dropped to his knees to rest his back, and chuckled. "Shore +did. Billy, he was boastin' how near he could crawl to them stables. +I reckon he done crawled _too_ close. Lukins ought to send them kids +home." + +In a sloping, shallow arroyo to their right Walt and Bob of the +Question-Mark lay side by side. Behind them two shots roared in quick +succession. Walt lazily turned his head from the direction of the +sounds and peeped over the edge of the bank. + +"I reckon some coyote took a look over th' edge of th' roof," he +remarked. + +"Uh-huh," replied Bob without interest and without relaxing his vigil. + +"I don't lay out here one little minute after Connors leaves that +'dobe," said Walt. He spat noisily and turned the cud. "I'm sayin' +shootin' like his is a gift. I'm some shot, myself, but h--l----" + +"You'd shore a thought so," replied Bob, grinning as he reviewed +something, "if you'd seen that sharpshooter flop over th' edge of th' +roof th' other day. I'd guess it was close to fifteen hundred." He +changed his position, grunted in complacent satisfaction and continued. +"Some folks can't see a man's forehead at that distance, let alone +_hit_ it. Of course, th' sky was behind it." + +"Which made it plainer, but harder to figger right," observed Walt. +"Waffles says Connors can drive a dime into a plank with th' first, an' +push it through with th' second, as far away as he can see th' dime. +When it's too far away to be seen, he puts it in th' middle of a black +circle, an' aims for th' middle of th' circle. But I put plenty of salt +on th' tails of _his_ stories." + +"Which holds 'em down," grunted Bob. "Who's that over there, movin' +around that shack?" + +Walt looked and cogitated. "Charley was there when I came out," he +answered. "Cussed fool--showin' hisself like that." He swore at a thin +pencil of flame which stabbed out from a loophole, and fired. "Told you +so!" he growled. "Charley is down!" + +Both fired at the loophole and hazarded a quick look at the foolish +unfortunate, who had dragged himself behind a hummock of sand. Rapid +firing broke out behind them and, sensing what it meant, they joined +in. A crouched figure darted from a building, sprinted to the hummock, +swung the wounded man on its back, and staggered and zigzagged to cover. + +"That was Waffles," said Walt, reloading the magazine of his rifle. +"It's a cussed shame to make a man take chances like that by bein' a +fool." + +Behind the building Waffles lowered his burden to the ground, ripped +off the wet shirt and became busy. He fastened the end of the bandage +and stood up. "Fools _are_ lucky sometimes," he growled; "an' I says +you are lucky to only have a smashed collar bone. You try a fool trick +like that again an' I'll bust yore head. Ain't you got no sense?" + +"Don't _you_ go to put on no airs, Waffles," said Red Connors. "I can +tell a few things on _you_. I _know_ you." + +Johnny chuckled. "Tread easy," he warned. "We _both_ know you." + +"Go to h--l!" grunted the ex-foreman of the O-Bar-O, grinning. "Fine +pair of sage-hens _you_ are to tell tales on me! I got you throwed and +hog-tied before you even start." He wheeled at a noise behind him, and +glared at the wounded man. "Where'n h--l are _you_ goin'?" he demanded, +truculently. + +"Without admittin' yore right to ask fool questions," groaned Charley, +still moving, "I'll say I'm goin' to join th' ambush party at Quayle's, +an' relieve somebody else." He gritted his teeth and stood erect. I can +use a Colt, can't I?" he demanded. + +"Yo're so shaky you can't hit a house," retorted Waffles. + +"Which I ain't aimin' to do," rejoined the white-faced man. "You'll +show more sense if you'll tie my left arm like it ought to be, instead +of standin' with yore mouth open. You'll shore catch a cold if you +don't shut it purty soon." + +"You stubborn fool!" growled Waffles, but he fixed the arm to its +owner's satisfaction. + +"If he gets smart, Charley," suggested Johnny, "pull his nose. He allus +_was_ an old woman, anyhow." + +With the coming of midnight the cordon became doubled in numbers as +growling men rubbed the sleep from their eyes and took up positions +for the meeting of Kane's sortie in case the hotel was attacked by his +expected drive outfit. + +The hours dragged on, the silence of the night infrequently broken +by bits of querulous cursing by some wounded puncher, an occasional +taunt from besieger or besieged and sporadic bursts of firing which +served more for notifications of defiance and watchfulness than for +any grimmer purpose. Patches of clouds now and then drifted before +the moon and sailed slowly on. Nature's denizens of the dark were in +active swing and filled the night with their soft orchestration. The +besiegers, paired for night work, which let one man doze while his +companion watched, hummed, grumbled, or snored; in the gambling-hall +fortress weary men slept beside the loopholes, the disheartened for +a few hours relieved of their fears or carrying them across the +borderland of sleep to make their slumbers restless and broken, while +scowling, disheartened sentries kept a keener watch, alert for the rush +hourly expected. + +South of town a group of horsemen pulled up, dismounted, tied their +mounts to convenient brush and slipped like shadows toward the nearest +house, approaching it roundabout and with animal wariness. From house +to house, corral to corral, cover to cover they crept, spread out +in a fan-shaped line, silent, grim, vindictive and desperate. Not a +shadow passed unsearched and unused, not a bowlder or thicket was above +suspicion nor below being utilized. Nearer and nearer they worked +their way, eyes straining, ears tuned for every sound, high-strung +with nerves quivering, keyed to swift reflex and instant decision. The +scattered, infrequent firing grew steadily nearer, every flat report +was searched for secret meanings and the sharp squeak of a gyrating bat +overhead sent every man flat to the earth. The last in the group became +cannily slower as opportunity offered and soon managed to be so far +behind that his quick, furtive desertion was unnoticed in the tenseness +of conjecture as to what lay immediately ahead. + +Kane's trail-boss slanted his watch under the moon's rays and gave a +low, natural signal, whereupon to right and left a man detached himself +and left the waiting group. Minutes passed, their passing marked on +nervous foreheads by the thin trickle of cold sweat. Any instant might +a challenge, a shot, a volley ring out on any side; hostile eyes +might be watching every movement, hostile guns waiting for the right +moment, like ravenous hounds in leash. The scouts returned as silently +as they had departed and breathed their reassuring words in Roberts' +ear. The town lay unsuspecting, every waking eye bent on the bulking +gambling-hall. Not a hidden outpost, not a pacing sentry to watch the +harmless rear. To the right showed the roof of a two-story building, +bulking above the low, thick roofs of scattered, helter-skelter adobes, +in any one of which Death might be poised. + +Again the slow advance, and breathed maledictions on the head of any +unfortunate who trod carelessly or let his swinging six-gun click +against buckle or button. Roberts, peering around the end of an adobe +wall, held his elbows from his sides, and progress ceased while a +softly whistling figure strode across the street and became lost to +sight. This was the jumping-off place, the edge of a black precipice +of fate, unknown as to depth or what lay below. The savage, thankful +elation which had possessed every man at his success in making this +border line of life and death faded swiftly as his mind projected +itself into the unknown on the other side of the house. Roberts knew +what might follow if hesitation were allowed here, and that the +conjecturing minds might have scant time to waver he nerved himself and +snapped his fingers, leaping around the corner for Quayle's kitchen +door, his men piling after him, still silent and much more tense, yet +tortured to shout and to shoot. Ten steps more and the goal would +have been reached, but even as the leaping group exulted there came a +shredded sheet of flame and the deafening crash of spurting six-guns +worked at top speed at point-blank range. The charging line crumpled +in mid-stride, plunged headlong to the silvered sands and rolled or +flopped or lay instantly still. At the head of his men the rustler +trail-boss offered a target beyond the waiting punchers' fondest hopes, +yet he bounded on unscathed, flashed around the hotel corner, turned +again, doubling back behind the smoke-filled stable and scurried like +a panic-stricken rabbit for the brush-filled arroyo, while hot and +savage hunters searched the street for him until a hail of lead from +Kane's drove them to any shelter which might serve. + +When the sheltering arroyo led him from his chosen course Roberts +forsook it and ran with undiminished speed toward where the horses +waited. At last he reached them and as he stretched out his arm his +last measure of energy left him and he plunged forward, rolling across +the sand. But a will like his was not to be baffled and in a few +moments he stirred, crawled forward, clawed himself into a saddle, +jerked loose the restraining rope and rode for safety, hunched over and +but half conscious. Gradually his pounding heart caught up with the +demand, his burning lungs and spasmodic breathing became more normal, +his head steadied and became a little clearer and he looked around to +find out just where he was. When sure of his location he turned the +horse's head toward Bitter Spring, and beyond it, to follow the tracks +he knew were still there to the only safe place left for him in all the +country. + +He seemed to have been riding for days when he caught sight of +something moving over a ridge far ahead of him and he closed his eyes +in hope that the momentary rest would clear his vision. After awhile he +saw it push up over another low ridge and he knew it to be a horseman +riding in the same direction as himself. Again he closed his eyes and +unmercifully quirted the tired and unwilling horse into a pace it could +not hold for long. Another look ahead showed him that the horseman +was a Mexican, which meant that he was hardly a foe even if not a +friend. And he sneered as he thought how little it mattered whether +the Mexican was an enemy or not, for one enemy ahead and a Greaser at +that was greatly to be preferred to those who might be following him. +Soon he frowned in slowly dawning recognition. It was Miguel and he +had obtained quite a start. Conjecturing about how he had managed to +be so far in the lead stirred up again the vague suspicions which had +been intruding themselves upon him while he had been unable to think +clearly; but he was thinking clearly now, he told himself, and his eyes +glinted the sudden anger. + +He thought he now knew why the town had been entered so easily, why +they had been allowed to penetrate unopposed to its center. It was +plain enough why they had been permitted to get within a few feet of +Quayle's back door, and then be stopped with a volley at a murderously +short range. As he reviewed it he almost was stunned by the thought of +his own escape and he tried to puzzle it out. It might be that every +waiting puncher thought that others were covering him--and in this he +was right. The compact group behind him had drawn every eye. It had +been one of those freakish tricks of fate which might not occur again +in a hundred fights; and it turned cold, practical Hugh Roberts into a +slave of superstition. + +On the way to town he had sneered when Miguel had pointed out a +chaparral cock which raced with them for several miles and claimed that +it was an omen of good luck; but from this time on no "roadrunner" ever +would hear the angry whine of his bullets. Thinking of Miguel brought +him back to his suspicions and he looked at the distant rider with +an expression on his face which would have caused chills to race up +and down the Mexican's back, could he have seen them. Miguel, unhurt, +riding leisurely back to the herd, with a head-start great enough to be +in itself incriminating. And then the Mexican turned in his saddle and +looked back, and Roberts let his horse fall into a saner pace. + +The effect upon Miguel was galvanic. He reined in, flung himself off +on the far side of his horse and cautiously slid the rifle from its +scabbard while he pretended to be tightening the cinch. His swarthy +face became a pasty yellow and then resumed its natural color, a little +darker, perhaps, by the sudden inrush of blood. After what he had done +in town Hugh Roberts would be on his trail for only one thing. Miguel's +racing imagination and his sudden feeling of guilt for his deliberate, +planned desertion found a sufficient reason for the pursuing horseman. +Sliding the rifle under his arm he waited until the man came nearer, +where a hit would be less of a gamble. The Mexican knew what had +happened, for he had delayed until he heard that crashing volley, and +knew it to be a volley. Knowing this he knew what it meant and had fled +for Surprise Valley and the big herd waiting there. That Roberts should +have escaped was a puzzle and he wrestled with it while the range was +steadily shortened, and the more he wrestled the more undecided he +became. Finally he slipped the gun back, mounted, and waited for the +other to come up. He had a plausible answer for every question. + +Roberts slowed to a walk and searched the Mexican's eyes as he pulled +up at his side. "How'd you get out here so far ahead of _me_?" he +demanded, his eyes cold and threatening. + +Miguel shrugged his shoulders, but did not take his hand from his belt. +"Ah, eet ees a miracle," he breathed. "The good Virgin, she watch over +Miguel. An' _paisano_, the roadrunner--deed I not tell you eet was good +luck? An' you, too, was saved! How deed eet happen, that you are save?" + +"They none of them looked at me, I reckon," replied Roberts. "They got +everybody but me--an' _you_. How is it that yo're out here, so far +ahead of me?" + +"Jus' before the firs' shootin'--the what you call volley--I stoomble +as I try not to step on Thorpe. I go down--the volley, eet come--I roll +away--they do not see me--an' here I am, like you, save." + +"Is that so?" snapped Roberts. + +"Eet ees jus' so, so much as eet ees that somewan tell we are comin' to +Quayle's," answered Miguel. "For why they do not see us, in the town, +when we come in? For why that volley, lak one shot? Sometheeng there +ees that Miguel he don' understan'. An' theese, please: Why ees there +no sortie wen we come in? We was on the ver' minute--eet ees so?" + +"Right on th' dot!" snarled Roberts, his thoughts racing along other +trails. "Huh!" he growled. "Our shares of th' herd money comes to quite +a sizable pile--mebby that's it. Take th' shares of _all_ of us, an' +it's more'n half. Well, I don't know, an' I ain't carin' a whole lot +now. Think we can swing that herd, Miguel, an' split _all_ th' money, +even shares?" + +The Mexican showed his teeth in a sudden, expansive smile. "For why +not? Theese hor-rses are ver' tired; but the others--they are res' now. +We can wait at Bitter Spring tonight, an' go on tomorrow. There ees no +hurry now." + +"We don't hang out at Bitter Spring all night," contradicted Roberts +flatly. "We'll water 'em an' breath 'em a spell, an' push right on. Th' +further I get away from Mesquite th' better I'm goin' to like it. Come +on, let's get goin'." + +"There ees no hurry from Bitter Spring," murmured the Mexican. "They +ees only one who know beyond; an' Manuel, he ees weeth Kane." + +"I don't care a d--n!" growled his companion, stubbornly. "I'm not +layin' around Bitter Spring any longer than I has to." + +Neither believed the other's story, but neither cared, only each +determined to be alert when the drive across the desert was completed. +Before that there was hardly need to let their mutual suspicions have +full play. Each was necessary to the success of the drive--but after? +That would be another matter. Fate was again kind to them both, for as +they hurried east Hopalong Cassidy hastened west along his favorite +trail, the rolling sand between hiding them from him. + + * * * * * + +Back in the town the elated ambushers buried the bodies, marveled at +the escape of Roberts and drifted away to take places on the firing +line, which soon showed increased activity. Here and there a more +daring puncher took chances, some regretting it and others gaining +better positions. Red, Johnny, and Waffles attended strictly to the +roof, which now had been abandoned on all sides but the north, where +lack of cover prohibited McCullough's men from getting close enough to +do any considerable damage. The few punchers lying far off on the north +were there principally to stop a sortie or an attempt at escape. As the +day passed the defenders' fire grew a little less and the Question-Mark +foreman was content to wait it out rather than risk unnecessary +casualties in pushing the fighting any more briskly. + +Evening came, and with it came Hopalong, tired, hungry, thirsty, and +hot, which did not add sweetness to his disposition. Eager to get the +men he wanted and to return for the herd, he listened impatiently to +his friends' account of the fight, his mind busy on his own account. +When the tale had been told and McCullough's changing attitude touched +upon he shoved his hat back on his head, spread his feet and ripped out +an oath. + +"-- --!" he growled. "All these men, all this time, to clean up a shack +like that?" + +"Mac's playin' safe--it's only a matter of time, now," apologized +Waffles, glaring at his two companions, who already had worn his nerves +ragged by the same kind of remarks. + +"H--l!" snorted Hopalong impatiently. "We'll all grow whiskers at +this rate, before it's over!" He turned to Johnny and regarded him +speculatively. "Kid, let Red an' Waffles handle that roof an' come +along with me. I'm goin' to start things movin'." + +"You'll find Mac plumb set on goin' easy," warned Waffles. + +"Th' h--l with Mac, an' Lukins, an' you, an' everybody else," retorted +Hopalong. "We're not workin' for nobody but ourselves. All I got to do +is keep my mouth shut an' Mac loses a plumb fine herd. Let me hear him +talk to me! Come on, Kid." + +Johnny deserted his companions as though they were lepers and showed +his delight in every swaggering movement. A whining bullet over +his head sent his fingers to his nose in contemptuous reply, but +nevertheless he went on more carefully thereafter. As they reached the +rear of a deserted adobe Hopalong pulled him to a stop. + +"I'm tired of this blasted country, an' you ought to be, for you've +got a wife that's havin' dull days an' sleepless nights. I'm goin' to +touch somethin' off that'll put an end to this fool quiltin' party, +an' let us get our money an' go home. By that I'm meanin' th' SV, for +it's goin' to be home for me. Besides, it's our best chance of gettin' +them rewards. So he's aimin' on cuttin' us out of 'em, huh? All right; +I'm goin' to Quayle's, an' while I'm holdin' their interest you fill a +canteen with kerosene an' smuggle it into th' stable." + +"What you goin' to do?" demanded his companion with poorly repressed +eagerness. + +"I'm goin' to set fire to that gamblin'-joint an' drive 'em out, that's +what!" + +"Th' moon won't let you," objected Johnny, but as he looked up at the +drifting clouds he hesitated and qualified his remark. "You'll have +times when it won't be so light, but it'll be too light for that." + +"When I start for th' hotel gamblin'-joint I go agin' th' northeast +corner, where there ain't but one loophole that covers that angle. I +got it figgered out. When I start, you an' Red won't be loafin' back +there where I found you, target-practicin' at th' roof." + +Reaching the hotel they found a self-satisfied group complacently +discussing the fight. Quayle looked up at their entry, sprang to his +feet and heartily shook hands with both. + +"Welcome to Mesquite, Cassidy," he beamed. "Tis different now than whin +ye left, an' it won't be long before honest men have their say-so in +this town." + +"Couple of weeks, I reckon, th' way things are driftin'," replied +Hopalong, smiling as Johnny left the office to invade the kitchen, +where Murphy gave a grinning welcome and looked curiously at the huge +canteen held out to him. + +"Couple of days," corrected Quayle. + +McCullough arose and shook hands with the newcomer. "Hear you been +trailin' my herd," he said. "Locate 'em?" + +"They're hobbled, and' waitin' for yore boys to drive 'em home. Wish +you'd tell yore outfit an' th' others not to shoot at th' feller that +heads for Kane's northeast corner tonight, but to cut loose at th' +loopholes instead. I'm honin' to get back home, an' so I'm aimin' to +bust up this little party tonight. To do that I got to get close." + +"That's plumb reckless," replied the trail-boss. "We got this all +wrapped up now, an' it'll tie its own knots in a day or two. What's th' +use of takin' a chance like that?" + +"To show that bunch just who they throwed in jail! Somebody else might +feel like tryin' it some day, an' I'm aimin' to make that 'some day' a +long way off." + +"Can't say I'm blamin' you for that. Whereabouts did you leave th' +herd?" + +"Where nobody but me an' my friends, on this side of th' fence, knows +about," answered Hopalong. "I'll tell you when I see you again--ain't +got time now." He nodded to the others, went out the way he had come in +and walked off with Johnny, who carried the innocent canteen instead of +putting it into the stable. + +As they started for the place where Hopalong had left his horse, not +daring to ride it into town, they chose a short-cut and after a few +minutes' brisk walking Hopalong pointed to a bunch of horses tied to +some bushes. + +"Th' fellers that owned them played safer than I did," he said, +"leavin' 'em out here. I reckon they're all Question-Mark." + +Johnny put a hand on his friend's arm and stopped him. "I got a better +guess," he said. "I know where all their cayuses are. Hoppy, that +rustlin' drive crew must 'a' come in this way. What you bet?" + +"I ain't bettin'," grunted his companion, starting toward the little +herd, "I'm lookin'. I don't hanker to lose that cayuse of mine, an' +they'll mebby get th' hoss I ride after I start for their buildin' +tonight. He's so mean I sort of cotton to him. An' he's got some +thoroughbred blood in his carcass, judgin' from what Arch said. In a +case like this it's only fair to use theirs. Besides, they're fresh; +mine ain't." + +Johnny pushed ahead, stopped at the tethered group and laughed. "Good +thing you didn't bet," he called over his shoulder. + +Hopalong untied a wicked-looking animal. "He looks like he'd burn th' +ground over a short distance, an' that's what I'm interested in. I'm +goin' down an' turn mine loose. If things break like I figger they will +there's no tellin' when I'll see him again, an' I don't want him to +starve tied up to a tree. He's so thirsty about now that he'll head for +McCullough's crick on a bee line." + +Johnny nodded, considered a moment and went toward the tie ropes. +"Shore, an' not stray far from that grass, neither." He released the +horses except the one he mounted and then rode up so close to his +friend that their knees rubbed. "No tellin' when anybody will be comin' +this way or when they'll get a drink. You look like you been hit by an +idea. That's so rare, suppose you uncork it?" + +"It's one I've been turnin' over," replied his friend, "an' it looks +th' same on both sides, too." + +"Turn it over for me an' lemme look." + +"Kid, I'm lookin' for somethin' to happen that shore will bother Mr. +McCullough a whole lot if he happens to think of it. When that buildin' +starts burnin' it's shore goin' to burn fast. They can't fight th' fire +like they should with them punchers pourin' lead into them lighted +loopholes. Once it starts nothin' can stop it; an' I'm tellin' you it's +shore goin' to start right. Th' south side is goin' first. They know +there's only a few men watchin' th' north side, an' them few are layin' +too far back. It won't take a man like Kane very long to learn that +he's got to jump, an' jump quick; an' when he does he'll jump right. +Right for him an' right for us. He can't do nothin' else. You said they +got their cayuses in there with 'em?" + +Johnny nodded. "So I was told. I'm seein' yore drift, Hoppy; an' when +Kane an' his friends jump me an' Red shore will have jammed guns an' +not be able to shoot at 'em." + +"Marriage ain't spoiled yore head," chuckled his companion. "Kane +havin' us jailed that way riled me; an' McCullough tryin' to slip out +of payin' them rewards has riled me some more. I'm washin' one hand +with th' other. Do you think you an' Red could get yore cayuses an' an +extra one for me, in case they get this one, around west somewhere back +of where yo're goin'?" + +"How'll this one do for you?" asked his companion, slapping the horse +he was on. + +"Plenty good enough." + +"Then he'll be there, ready to foller th' jumpers," laughed Johnny. + +"Good for you, Kid. You shore have got th' drift. Now, seein' that I +may get into trouble an' be too late to go after 'em when they jump, +you listen close while I tell you where to ride, an' all about it," +and the description of the desert trail and the valley was as meaty as +it was terse. He told his friend where to take the horses and where +to look for him before the night's work began, and then went back to +Kane and his men. "They're bound to head for that valley. There ain't +no place else for 'em to go. I'll bet they've had that figgered for a +refuge ever since they learned about it." + +Johnny laughed contentedly. "An' Mac tellin' me that he's got 'em all +tied up an' ain't aimin' to pay no rewards! But," he said, becoming +instantly grave, "there's one thin' I don't like. I'm admittin' it's +yore scheme, but we ought to draw lots to see who's goin' to use that +kerosene. After all, yo're down here to help me out of a hole. Dig up +some more cartridges, you maverick!" + +"Don't you reckon I got brains enough to run it off?" demanded his +friend. + +"An' some to spare," replied Johnny; "but I ain't no idjut, myself. +Here; call yore choice," and he reached for his belt. + +"Yo're slow, Kid," chuckled Hopalong, holding out his hand. "Call it +yourself." + +Johnny hesitated, pushed back the cartridges and placed his hand on +those of his friend. "You went at that like you was pullin' a gun: an' +I can't say nothin' that means anythin' faster. Why th' hurry?" + +"Habit, I reckon," gravely replied his friend. "Savin' time, mebby; _I_ +dunno why, you chump!" + +"It's a good habit; an' I'm shore you saved considerable time, which +same I'm aimin' to waste," replied Johnny. He thought swiftly. Last +time he had called "even," and lost. He was certain that Hopalong +wanted the task. How would his friend figure? The natural impulse of +a slow-witted man would be to change the number. Hopalong was not +slow-witted; on the contrary so far from slow-witted that he very +likely would be suspicious of the next step in reasoning and go a step +further, which would take him back to the act of the slow-witted, for +he knew that the cogitating man in front of him was no simpleton. +Odd or even: a simple choice; but in this instance it was a battle +of keen wits. Johnny raised his own hand and looked down at his +friend's, the upper one clasping and covering the lower; and then into +the night-hidden eyes, which were squinting between narrowed lids to +make their reading hopeless. Being something of a gambler Johnny had +the gambler's way of figuring, and this endorsed the other line of +reasoning: he believed the chances were not in favor of a repetition. + +"Cuss yore grinnin' face," he growled. "I said 'even' last time, an' +was wrong. Now I'm sayin' 'odd.' Open up!" + +Hopalong opened the closed hands and his squinting eyes at the same +instant and laughed heartily. "Kid, I cussed near raised you, an' +I know yore ways. Mebby it ain't fair, but you was tryin' hard to +outguess me. There they are--pair of aces. Count 'em, sonny; count 'em." + +"Count 'em yourself," growled Johnny; "if you can count that far!" He +peered into the laughing eyes and thrust out his jaw. "You know my +ways, do you? Well, when we get back to th' SV, me an' you are goin' in +to Dave's, get a big stack of two-bit pieces an' go at it. I'll cussed +soon show you how much you know my ways! G'wan! Get out of here before +I get rough!" + +"He's too old to spank," mused Hopalong, kneeing the horse, "an' too +young to fight with--reckon I'll have to pull my stakes an' move +along." Chuckling, he looked around. "Ain't forgot nothin' about +tonight, have you, child?" + +"No!" thundered Johnny. "But for two-bits I _would!_" Hopalong's laugh +came back to him and sent a smile over his face. "There ain't many like +you, you old son-of-a-gun!" he muttered, and wheeled to return to the +town and to Red. + +His departing friend grinned at the horse. "Bronch," he said, +confidently, "he shore had me again. I'm gettin' so cheatin's second +nature; an' worse'n that, I'm cheatin' my best friends, an' likin' it. +Yessir, _likin'_ it! Ain't you ashamed of me? You nod that ugly head +of yourn again an' I'll knock it off you! G'wan: This ain't no funeral +_yet_!" + + + + + CHAPTER XXII + + THE BONFIRE + + +Johnny rode up to the hotel, got a Winchester and ammunition for it +from the stack of guns in the kitchen and then went to the stable +for Red's horse and Pepper. As he led them out he stopped to answer +a pertinent question from the upper window of the hotel and rode off +again, leading the extra mounts. + +Ed Doane lowered the rifle and scratched his head. "Goin' for +a moonlight ride," he repeated in disgust as he drew back from +the window. "Cussed if punchers ain't gettin' more locoed every +day. Moonlight ride! Shore--go out an' look at th' scenery. Looks +different in th' moonlight--bah! To me a pancake looks like a pancake +by kerosene, daylight, wood fire or--or moonlight. I suppose th' +moonlight'll get into 'em an' they'll be singin' love-songs an' +harmonizin'; but thank th' Lord I don't have to go along!" He glanced +around at a sudden _thap!_ grinned in the darkness at the double +planking on that side wall and sat down again. "Shoot!" he growled. +"Shoot twice! Shoot an' be d--d! Waste 'em! Reckon th' moonlight's got +into you, you cow-stealin', murderin' pup." Filling his pipe he packed +and lit it, blew several clouds through nose and mouth and scratched +his head again. "Goin' for a moonlight ride, huh? Well, mebby you are, +Johnny, my lad; but Ed Doane's bettin' there's more'n a ride in it. +You didn't go for no moonlight rides before that missin' friend of +yourn turned up; an' then, right away, you ride up on one hoss, collect +two more an' go gallivantin' off under th' moon. I'm guessin' close. +Eddie Doane, I'll bet you a tenspot them three grizzlies are out for to +put their ropes on them rewards. An' I hope they collect, cussed if I +don't. That Scotch trail-boss is puttin' on too many airs for me--an' +he's rilin' Nelson slow but shore. Go get it, Bar-20: I'm bettin' on +you." + +There came steps to his door. "Ar-re ye there, Ed?" called a voice. + +"Shore; come in, Murphy." + +The door opened and closed as the cook entered. "Have ye a pipeful? +Mine's all gone." + +"Help yourself," answered Doane, tossing the sack. "There it is, by +yore County Cork feet." + +"I have ut," grunted Murphy. "An' who was th' lad ye was talkin' to +from th' windy just now?" + +"Nelson. He's goin' ridin' in th' moonlight. Must aim to go far, for +he's got three horses." + +"Has he, now?" Murphy puffed in quiet satisfaction for a moment. "He's +a good la-ad, Ed. Goin' ridin', is he? Well, ridin' is fine for them as +likes it. But I'm wonderin' what he's doin' with th' kerosene I gave +him?" + +"Kerosene? When?" + +"Whin he come in with his friend Cassidy--an' a fine bye _that_ man is, +too. Shure: a hull canteen av it. Two gallons. He says for me to kape +it quiet: as if I'd be tellin'! Quayle would have me scalp if he knowed +it--givin' away his ile like that. Now where ye goin' so fast?" + +"For a walk, under th' moonlight!" answered Doane. "Yo're goin', too +an' we're goin' with our mouths shut. Not a word about th' hosses or +th' kerosene. You remember what Cassidy said about goin' agin' Kane's +northeast corner? Come on--an' see th' bonfire!" + +"Shure, an' who's fool enough to have anny bonfires now?" + +"Murphy, I said _with our mouths shut_. Come on, up near th' jail!" + +The cook scratched his head and favored his companion with a sidewise +glance, which revealed nothing because of the darkness of the room. +"Th' jail?" he muttered. "He's crazy, he is. Th' jail won't make no +bonfire. It's mud. But as long as he has th' 'baccy, I'll go wid him. +_Whist!_" he exclaimed as another _thap!_ sounded on the wall. "An' +what's that?" + +"This room's haunted," explained Ed. + +"Lead th' way, thin; or let me," said Murphy in great haste. "I'll +watch yore mud bonfire." + +After leaving the hotel Johnny kept it between himself and Kane's +building, rode to the arroyo which Roberts had found so useful and +followed it until out of sight of anyone in town. When he left it he +turned east, crossed the main trail and dismounted east of the place +where he and Red had kept watch on the gambling-house roof. Working +his way on foot to his sharpshooting friends he lay down at Red's side +and commented casually on several subjects, finally nudging the Bar-20 +rifleman. + +"I'm growin' tired of this spot an' this game," he grumbled. "They know +where we are now, an' that roof's plumb tame." + +Red stirred restlessly. "You must 'a' read my mind," he observed. +"You've had a spell off--stay here while I take a rest." + +"Stay nothin'!" retorted Johnny. "This ain't our fight, anyhow." + +"Somebody's got to stay," objected Red. + +"Let Waffles, then," rejoined Johnny. "You don't care if we look +around?" + +"I'd just as soon stay here as go any place else," said the ex-foreman +of the O-Bar-O. "Where you fellers aimin' to go?" + +"Over west to cover Hoppy," answered Johnny, remembering that this much +was generally known. "He aims to make a dash for th' hotel, an' he's +so stubborn nobody can stop him. He says th' fight's been goin' on too +long; an' you know how he can use six-guns. To use 'em right he'll have +to get plumb close." + +"Cussed fool!" snorted Red, arising to his knees. "How can he end it by +makin' a dash, an' usin' his short guns? Mebby he's aimin' to put his +rope on it an' pull it over, shootin' as they pop out from under!" he +sarcastically suggested. + +"Mebby; better ask him," replied Johnny. "_I_ did. Mebby you can get it +out of him. When he wants to keep his mouth shut, he shore can keep it +shut tight. There's no use wastin' our breath on it. He's got some fool +scheme in his head an' he's set solid. All we can do is to try to save +his fool skin. Waffles can hold down this place till we come back. Come +on, Red." + +Red grumbled and stretched. "All right. See you later mebby, Waffles." + +Johnny turned. "Don't forget an' shoot at th' feller runnin' for th' +east end of th' buildin'," he warned. + +"Mac sent th' word along a couple of hours ago," replied Waffles, +settling down in the place vacated by Red to resume the watch on the +hotel roof, which was fairly well revealed at times by the moon. He +seemed to be turning something over in his mind, but finally shrugged +his shoulders and gave his attention to the roof. "They've got +somethin' better'n six-guns at close range," he muttered. "Well, a man +owes his friends somethin', so I'm holdin' my tongue." + +Reaching the horses Johnny and his companion mounted and rode +northward, leading the spare mount. + +"What's he up to?" demanded Red. + +"Goin' to set fire to th' shack," answered Johnny, and he forthwith +explained the whole affair. + +"Huh!" grunted Red. "There ain't no doubt in my mind that it'll work if +he can get there an' get th' fire started." He was silent for a moment +and then pulled his hat more firmly down on his head. "If he don't get +there, I'll give it a whirl. Anyhow, I'd have to leave cover to get to +him if he went down so it ain't much worse goin' th' rest of th' way. +An' I'm tellin' you this: That lone loophole is shore goin' to be bad +medicine for anybody tryin' to use it after he starts. I'll put 'em +through it so fast they'll be crowdin' each other." + +"An' while yo're reloadin' I'll keep 'em goin'," said Johnny, patting +his borrowed Winchester. "They'll shore think somebody's squirtin' 'em +out of a hose." + +Some time later he stopped his horse and peered around in the faint +light. + +Red stopped, also. "This th' place?" + +"Looks like it--we ought to get some sign of Hoppy purty soon. Anyhow, +we'll wait awhile. Glad that moon ain't very bright." + +"An' cussed glad for th' clouds," added Red. "Clouds like them ain't +th' rule in this part of the country." He leaned over and looked down +at the sand. "Tracks, Kid," he said. "Follow 'em?" + +"No," answered his companion slowly. "I'm bettin' they're Hoppy's. Stay +with th' cayuses--I'm goin' to look around," and as he dismounted they +heard a hail. Red swung to the ground as their friend appeared. + +"You made good time," said Hopalong, advancing. "I been off lookin' +things over. We can leave th' cayuses in a little hollow about long +rifle-shot from th' buildin'. From there you two can get real close by +travelin' on yore bellies from bush to bush. Th' cover's no good in day +light, but on a night like this, by waitin' for th' clouds, it'll be +plenty good enough." + +"How close did you get?" asked Johnny. + +"Close enough to send every shot through that loophole, if I wanted to." + +"Did they see you? Did you draw a shot?" + +"No. They ain't watchin' that loophole very close. Ain't had no reason +to since th' stables burned. There ain't nobody been layin' off in this +direction. Th' cover wasn't good enough to risk it, with only a blank +wall to watch, an' with them fellers on th' roof to shoot down. Red +couldn't cover th' north part of it from where he was. I been wonderin' +if I ought to use a cayuse at all." + +"There's argument agin' usin' one," mused Johnny. + +"Th' noise, an' a bigger object to catch attention," remarked Red. "If +you walked th' cayuse to soften its steps, it still looms up purty big; +an' if you cut loose an' dash in, th' noise shore will bring a shot. Me +an' th' Kid would have to start shootin' early an' keep it up a long +while--an' we're near certain to leave gaps in th' string." + +"What moonlight there is shines on this end of th' buildin'," observed +Johnny. "That loophole show up plain?" he asked. + +"You can't see nothin' else," chuckled Hopalong. "It's so black it fair +hollers." + +Red drew the Winchester from its sheath and turned the front sight on +its pivot, which then showed a thin white line. He never had regretted +having it made, for since it had been put on he had not suffered the +annoyance of losing sight of it against a dark target in poor light. +"Bein' bull-headed," he remarked, "you chumps has to guess; but little +Reddie ain't doin' none of it. I told you long ago to have one put on." + +"Shut up!" growled Johnny, turning his own Winchester over in his hands. + +"I reckon I'm travelin' flat on my stomach," said Hopalong, slinging +the big canteen over his head. "I'll go with you till we has to stop, +let you get set an' then make a run for it. Seein' that th' Kid has +got a repeater, too, you'll be able to keep lead flyin' most of th' +time I'm in th' open if you don't pull too fast; an' when you run out +of cartridges I'll start with my Colts. I'll be close enough, then, to +use 'em right. When you see that I'm under th' buildin' go back quite +a ways so th' fire won't show you up too plain, an' _watch th' roof_. +I'll start a fire under that loophole before I leave, an' that'll +spoil their view through it; an' I ain't leavin' before I've fixed +things so them fellers will have so much to do they won't have much +time for sharpshootin'. That buildin' will burn like a pine knot." + +"Then yo're comin' back th' way you go in?" asked Red. + +"Shore," answered Hopalong. "Everythin' plain?" + +"Watch me," ordered Red, his hand rising and falling. "If we space +our shots like this we ought to be able to reload while th' other is +emptyin' his gun. Is it too slow?" + +"No," said Johnny, considering. + +"No," said the man with the canteen, watching closely. "It'll take that +long to throw a gun into th' loophole an' line it up, in this light." + +"Not bein' used to a repeater like Red is," suggested Johnny, "I'd +better shoot th' second string--that'll give us three of 'em before +it's my time to reload. Red can slide 'em in as fast as I can shoot 'em +out, timin' 'em like that." + +"You can put 'em through that hole as good as I can," said Red. "It's +near point-blank shootin'. You do th' shootin' an' I'll take care of +loadin' both guns. We can't make no blunders, with Hoppy out there +runnin' for his life." + +"That's why I ought to do th' runnin'," growled Johnny. "I can make +three feet to his two." + +"It's all settled," said Hopalong, decisively. "I got th' kerosene, an' +I'm keepin' it. Come on. No more talkin'." + +They followed him over the course he had picked out and with a caution +which steadily increased as they advanced until at length they went +ahead only when the crescent moon was obscured by drifting clouds. +Ahead loomed the two-story gambling-hall, its windowless rear wall of +bleached lumber leaden in the faint light. An occasional finger of fire +stabbed from its south wall to be answered by fainter stabs from the +open, the reports flat and echoless. A distant voice sang a fragment of +song and a softened laugh replied to a ribald jest. A horse neighed and +out of the north came quaveringly the faint howl of a moon-worshiping +coyote. + +The three friends, face down on the sand, now each behind a squat bush, +wriggled forward silently but swiftly, and gained new and nearer cover. +Again a cloud passed before the moon and again they wriggled forward, +their eyes fixed on the top of the roof ahead, two of them heading +for the same bush and the other for a shallow gully. The pair met and +settled themselves to their satisfaction, heads close together as they +consulted about the proper setting of the rear sights. One of them +knelt, the rifle at his shoulder reaching out over the top of the bush, +his companion sitting cross-legged at his side, a pile of dull brass +cartridges in the sombrero on the ground between his knees to keep the +grease on the bullets free from sand. + +The kneeling man bent his head and let his cheek press against the +stock of the heavy weapon, whispered a single word and waited. Twice +there came the squeak of a frightened rat from his companion and +instantly from the right came an answering squeak as the figure of a +man leaped up from the gully and sprinted for the lead-colored wall, +the heavy, jarring crash of a Winchester roaring from the bush, to +be repeated at close intervals which were as regular as the swing of +a pendulum. A round, dark object popped up over the flat roof line +and the cross-legged man on the ground threw a gun to his shoulder +and fired, almost in one motion. The head dropped from sight as the +marksman slid another cartridge into the magazine and waited, ready to +shoot again or to exchange weapons with his kneeling friend. + +The runner leaped on at top speed, but he automatically counted the +reports behind him and a smile flashed over his face when the count +told him that the second rifle was being used. He would have known it +in no other way, for the spacing of the shots had not varied. Again +the count told of the second change and a moment later another extra +report confirmed his belief that the roof was being closely watched by +his friends. A muffled shout came from the building and a spurt of fire +flashed from the loophole, but toward the sky and he fancied he heard +the sound of a falling body. Far to his left jets of flame winked along +a straggling line, the reports at times bunched until they sounded like +a short tattoo, while behind him the regular crashing of an unceasing +Winchester grew steadily more distant and flatter. + +His breath was coming in gulps now for he had set himself a pace out of +keeping with the habits of years and the treacherous sand made running +a punishment. During the last hundred feet it was indeed well for him +that Johnny shot fast and true, that the five-hundred grain bullets +which now sang over his aching head were going straight to the mark. +He suddenly, vaguely realized that he heard wrangling voices and then +he threw himself down onto the sand and rolled and clawed under the +building, safe for the time. + +Gradually the jumble of footsteps over his head impressed themselves +upon him and he mechanically drew a Colt as he raised his head from the +earth. Suddenly the roaring steps all went one way, which instantly +aroused his suspicions, and he crawled hurriedly to the black darkness +of a pile of sand near the bottom of the south wall, which he reached +as the steps ceased. No longer silhouetted against the faint light +of the open ground around the building, a light which was bright by +contrast with the darkness under the floor, he placed the canteen on +the ground and felt for chips and odds and ends of wood with one hand +while the other held a ready gun. + +There came the sharp, plaintive squeaking of seldom-used hinges, which +continued for nearly a minute and then a few unclassified noises. They +were followed by the head of a brave man, plainly silhouetted against +the open sand. It turned slowly this way and that and then became still. + +"See anythin'?" came a hoarse whisper through the open trap. + +There was no reply from the hanging head, but if thoughts could have +killed, the curious whisperer would have astonished St. Peter by his +jack-in-the-box appearance before the Gates. + +"If he did, we'd know by now, you fool," whispered another, who +instantly would have furnished St. Peter with another shock. + +"He'd more likely feel somethin', rather than see it," snickered a +third, who thereupon had a thrashing coming his way, but did not know +it as yet. + +The head popped back into the darkness above it, the trapdoor fell with +a bang, and sudden stamping was followed by the fall of a heavy body. +Furious, high-pitched cursing roared in the room above until lost in a +bedlam of stamping feet and shouting voices. + +"He ought to kill them three fools," growled Hopalong, indignant for +the moment; and then he shook with silent laughter. Wiping his eyes, +he fell to gathering more wood for his fire, careless as to noise in +view of the free-for-all going on over his head. Removing the plug +from the canteen he poured part of the oil over the piled-up wood, on +posts, along beams and then, saturating his neckerchief, he rubbed it +over the floor boards. Wriggling around the pile of sand he wet the +outer wall as far up as his arm would reach, soaked two more posts and +another pile of shavings and chips and then, corking the nearly empty +vessel, he felt for a match with his left hand, which was comparatively +free from the kerosene, struck it on his heel and touched it here and +there, and a rattling volley from the besiegers answered the flaming +signal. Backing under the floor he touched the other pile and wriggled +to the wall directly under the loophole. Again and again the canteen +soaked the kerchief and the kerchief spread the oil, again a pile of +shavings leaned against a wetted post, and another match leaped from +a mere spot of fire into a climbing sheet of flame, which swept up +over the loophole and made it useless. As he turned to watch the now +well-lighted trapdoor, there came from the east, barely audible above +the sudden roaring of the flame, the reports of the rifles of his two +friends, the irregular timing of the shots leading him to think that +they were shooting at animated targets, perhaps on the roof. + +The trapdoor went up swiftly and he fired at the head of a man who +looked through it. The toppling body was grabbed and pulled back and +the door fell with a slam which shook the building. Hopalong's position +was now too hot for comfort and getting more dangerous every second +and with a final glance at the closed trapdoor he scrambled from under +the building, slapped sparks from his neck and shoulders and sprinted +toward his waiting, anxious friends, where a rifle automatically began +the timed firing again, although there now was no need for it. Slowing +as he left the building further and further behind he soon dropped into +a walk and the rifle grew silent. + +"Here we are," called Johnny's cheery voice. "I'm admittin' you did a +good job!" + +"An' _I_'m sayin' you did a good one," replied Hopalong. "Them shots +came as reg'lar as th' tickin' of a clock." + +"Quite some slower," said Red. "That gang can't stay in there much +longer. Notice how Mac's firin' has died down?" + +"They're waitin' for 'em to come out an' surrender," chuckled Hopalong. +"Keep a sharp watch an' you'll see 'em come out an' make a run for it." + +"Better get back to th' cayuses, an' be ready to foller," suggested Red. + +"No," said Johnny. "Let 'em get a good start. If we stop 'em here Mac +may get a chance to cut in." + +"An' we'll mebby have to kill some of th' men we want alive," said +Hopalong. "Let 'em get to that valley an' think they're safe. We can +catch 'em asleep th' first night." + +The gambling-hall was a towering mass of flames on the south and east +walls and they were eating rapidly along the other two sides. Suddenly +a hurrying line of men emerged from the north door of the doomed +structure, carrying wounded companions to places of safety from the +flames. Dumping these unfortunates on the ground, the line charged +back into the building again and soon appeared leading blind-folded +horses, which bit and kicked and struggled, and turned the line into a +fighting turmoil. The few shots coming from the front of the building +increased suddenly as McCullough led a running group of his men to +cover the north wall. A few horses and a man or two dropped under the +leaden hail, the accuracy of which suffered severely from the shortness +of breath of the marksmen. The group expanded, grew close at one place +and with quirts rising and falling, dashed from the building, pressing +closely upon the four leaders, and became rapidly smaller before the +steadying rifles of its enemies took much heavier toll. Before it +had passed beyond the space lighted by the great fire only four men +remained mounted, and these were swiftly swallowed up by the dim light +on the outer plain. + +McCullough and most of his constantly growing force left cover and +charged toward the building to make certain that no more of their +enemies escaped, while the rest of his men hurried back to get horses +and form a pursuing party. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIII + + SURPRISE VALLEY + + +Hopalong turned and crawled away from the lurid scene, his friends +following him closely. As soon as they dared they arose to their feet +and jogged toward where their horses waited, and soon rode slowly +northeastward, heading on a roundabout course for Sweet Spring. + +"Take it easy," cautioned Hopalong. "We don't want to get ahead of 'em +yet. If my eyes are any good th' four that got away are Kane, Corwin, +Trask, an' a Greaser. What you say?" + +Reaching the arid valley through which Sand Creek would have flowed had +it not been swallowed up by the sands, they drew on their knowledge +of it and crossed on hard ground, riding at a walk and cutting +northeastward so as to be well above the course of the fleeing four, +after which they turned to the southeast and approached the spring from +the north. Reaching the place of their former vigil they dismounted, +picketed the horses in the sandy hollow and lay down behind the crest +of the ridge. Half an hour passed and then Johnny's roving eyes caught +sight of a small group of horsemen as it popped up over a rise in the +desert floor. A moment later and the group strung out in single file to +round a cactus chaparral and revealed four horsemen, riding hard. The +fugitives raced up to Bitter Spring, tarried a few moments, and went on +again, slowly growing smaller and smaller, and then a great slope of +sand hid them from sight. + +Hopalong grunted and arose, scanning their back trail. "They've been so +long gettin' out here that I'm bettin' they did a god job hidin' their +trail. I can see Mac an' his gang ridin' circles an' gettin' madder +every minute. Well, we can go on, now. By goin' th' way I went before +we won't be seen." + +"How long will it take us?" asked Red, brushing sand from his clothes +as he stood up. + +"Followin' th' pace they're settin' we ought to be there tonight," +answered Hopalong. "Give th' cayuses all they can drink. If them +fellers hold us off out there we'll have to run big risks gettin' our +water from that crick. Well, let's get started." + +The hot, monotonous ride over the desert need not be detailed. They +simply followed the tracks made by Hopalong on his previous visit and +paid scanty attention to the main trail south of them, contenting +themselves by keeping to the lowest levels mile after burning mile. +It was evening when they stopped where their guide had stopped before +and after waiting for nightfall they went on again in the moonlight, +circling as Hopalong had circled and when they stopped again it was +to dismount where he had dismounted behind a ridge. They picketed and +hobbled the weary, thirsty horses and went ahead on foot. Following +instructions Red left them and circled to the south to scout around +the great ridge of rock before taking up his position at the head of +the slanting trail from the valley. His companions kept on and soon +crawled to the rim of the valley, removed their sombreros and peered +cautiously over the edge. The faint glow of the fire behind the adobe +hut in the west end of the sink shone in the shadows of the great +rock walls and reflected its light from bowlders and brush. Below +them cattle and the horses of the caviya grazed over the well-cropped +pasture and a strip of silver told where the little creek wandered +toward its effacement. Moving back from the rim they went on again, +looking over from time to time and eventually reached the point nearly +over the fire, where they could hear part of the conversation going on +around it, when the voices raised above the ordinary tones. + +"You haven't a word to say!" declared Kane, his outstretched hand +leveled at Trask, the once-favored deputy-sheriff. "If it wasn't for +your personal spite, and your d--d avarice, we wouldn't be in this mess +tonight! You had no orders to do that." + +Trask's reply was inaudible, but Corwin's voice reached them. + +"I told him to let Nelson alone," said the sheriff. "He was dead set to +get square for him cuttin' into th' argument with Idaho. But as far as +avarice is concerned, you got yore part of th' eleven hundred." + +"Might as well, seeing that the hand had been played!" retorted Kane. +"What's more, I'm going to keep it. Anybody here think he's big enough +to get any part of it?" + +"Nobody here wants it," said Roberts. "Th' boys I had with me, +an' Miguel, an' myself have reasons to turn this camp fire into a +slaughter, but we're sinkin' our grievances because this ain't no time +to air 'em. I'm votin' for less squabblin'. We ain't out of this yet, +an' we got four hundred head to get across th' desert. Time enough, +later, to start fightin'. I'm goin' off to turn in where there ain't so +much fool noise. I've near slept on my feet an' in th' saddle. Fight +an' be d--d!" and he strode from the fire, keen eyes above watching his +progress and where it ended. + +The hum around the fire suffered no diminution by his departure, but +the words were not audible to the listeners above. Soon Corwin angrily +arose and left the circle, his blankets under his arm. His course also +was marked. Then the two Mexicans went off, and the eager watchers +chuckled softly as they saw the precious pair take lariats from the +saddles of two picketed horses and slip noiselessly toward the feeding +caviya. Roping fresh mounts, and the pick of the lot, they made the +ropes fast and went back to the other horses. Soon they returned with +their riding equipment and blankets, saddled the fresh mounts and, +spreading the blankets a few feet beyond the radius of the picket +ropes, they rolled up and soon were asleep. + +"Sensitive to danger as hounds," muttered Johnny. + +"Cunnin' as coyotes," growled Hopalong, glancing at the clear-cut, +rocky rim across the valley, where Red by this time lay ensconced. "I +hope he remembers to drop their cayuses first--Miguel's worth more to +us alive." + +"An' easier to take back," whispered Johnny. "We want 'em _all_ +alive--an' we'd never get 'em that way if they wasn't so played out. +They'll sleep like they are dead--luck is with us." + +Down at the dying camp fire Kane, his back to the hut, talked with +Trask in tones which seemed more friendly, but the deputy was in no +way lulled by the change. He sensed a flaming animosity in the fallen +boss, who blamed him for the wreck of his plans and the organization. +Muttering a careless good night, Trask picked up his blankets and went +off, leaving the bitter man alone with his bitterness. + +Tired to the marrow of his bones, so sleepy that to remain awake was a +torture, the boss dared not sleep. In the company of five men who were +no longer loyal, whose greed exceeded his own, and each of whom nursed +a real or fancied grudge against him and who searched into the past, +into the days of his contemptuous treatment of them for fuel and yet +more fuel to feed the fires of their resentment, he dared not close his +eyes. On his person was a modest fortune compacted by the size of the +bills and so well distributed that unknowing eyes would not suspect its +presence; but these men knew that he would not leave his wealth behind +him, to be perhaps salvaged from a hot and warped safe in the smoking +ruins of his gambling-house. + +He stirred and gazed at the glowing embers and an up-shooting tongue of +flame lighted up the small space so vividly that its portent shocked +through to his dulled brain and sent him to his feet with the speed +and silence of a frightened cat. He was too plain a target and too +defenseless in the lighted open, and like a ghost he crept away into +the darker shadows under the great stone cliff, to pace to and fro in +an agonizing struggle against sleep. Back and forth he strode, his +course at times erratic as his enemy gained a momentary victory; but +his indomitable will shook him free again and again; and such a will it +was that when sleep finally mastered him it did not master his legs, +for he kept walking in a circular course like a blind horse at a ginny. + +When he had leaped to his feet and left the hut the watchers above kept +him in sight and after the first few moments of his pacing they worked +back from the valley's rim and slipped eastward. + +"Here's th' best place," said Hopalong, turning toward the rim again. +They looked over and down a furrow in the rock wall. "We'll need two +ropes. It'll take one, nearly, to reach from here to that knob of rock +an' go around it. Red's got a new hemp rope--bring that, too. If he +squawks about us cuttin' it, I'll buy him a new one. Got to have tie +ropes." + +Johnny hastened away and when he returned he threw Red's lariat on the +ground, and joined the other two. Fastening one end around the knob of +rock he dropped the other over the wall and shook it until he could see +that it reached the steep pile of detritus. Picking up the hemp rope +he was about to drop it, too, when caution told him it would make less +noise if carried down. Slinging it over his shoulder he crept to the +edge, slid over, grasped the rope and let himself down. Seeing he was +down his companion was about to follow when Johnny's whisper checked +him. + +"Canteens--better fill 'em while it's easy." + +Hopalong drew his head back and disappeared and it was not much of +a wait before the rope was jerking up the wall and returned with a +canteen. To send down more than one at a time would be to risk them +banging together. When they all were down Johnny took them and slipped +among the bowlders, Hopalong watching his progress. For caution's sake +the water carrier took two trips from the creek and sent them up again +one at a time. Soon his friend slid down, glanced around, took the hemp +rope and cut it into suitable lengths, giving half of the pieces to +Johnny and then without a word started for the west end of the valley, +treading carefully, Johnny at his heels. + +Roberts, sleeping the sleep of the exhausted, awoke in a panic, a +great weight on his legs, arms, and body, and a pair of sinewy thumbs +pressing into his throat. His struggles were as brief as they were +violent and when they ceased Hopalong arose from the quiet legs and +released the limp arms while his companion released the throat hold +and took his knees from the prostrate chest. In a few minutes a quiet +figure lay under the side of a rock, its mouth gagged with a soiled +neckerchief and the new hemp rope gleaming from ankles, knees, and +wrists. + +Corwin, his open mouth sonorously announcing the quality of his +fatigue, lay peacefully on his back, tightly rolled up in his blankets. +Two faint shadows fell across him and then as Johnny landed on his +chest and sunk the capable thumbs deep into the bronzed throat on +each side of the windpipe, Hopalong dropped onto the blanket-swathed +legs and gripped the encumbered arms. This task was easy and in a few +minutes the sheriff, wrapped in his own blankets like a mummy, also +wore a gag and several pieces of new hemp rope, two strands of which +passed around his body to keep the blanket rolled. + +The two punchers carried him between two bowlders, chuckled as they put +him down and stood up to grin at each other. The blanket-rolled figure +amused them and Johnny could not help but wish Idaho was there to +enjoy the sight. He moved over against his companion and whispered. + +"Shore," answered Hopalong, smiling. "Go ahead. It's only fair. He +knocked you on th' head. I'll go up an' spot Kane. Did it strike you +that he must have a lot of money on him to be so h--l-bent to stay +awake? I don't like him pacin' back an' forth like that. It may mean a +lot of trouble for us; an' them Greasers are too nervous to suit me. +When yo're through with Trask slip off an' watch them Mexicans. Don't +pay no attention to me no matter what happens. Stick close to them two. +I'll give you a hand with 'em as soon as I can get back. If you have to +shoot, don't kill 'em," and the speaker went cautiously toward the hut. + +Johnny removed his boots and, carrying them, went toward the place +where he had seen the deputy bed down; but when he reached the spot +Trask was not there. Thanking his ever-working bump of caution for +his silent and slow approach he drew back from the little opening +among the rocks and tackled the problem in savage haste. There was no +time to be lost, for Hopalong was not aware that any of the gang was +roaming around and might not be as cautious as he knew how to be. Why +had Trask forsaken his bed-ground, and when? Where had he gone and +what was he doing? Cursing under his breath Johnny wriggled toward the +creek where he could get a good view of the horses. Besides the two +picketed near the sleeping Mexicans none were saddled nor appeared to +be doing anything but grazing. Going back again Johnny searched among +the bowlders in frantic haste and then decided that there was only +one thing to do, and that was to head for the hut and get within sight +of his friend. Furious because of the time he had lost he started for +the new point and finally reached the hut. If Trask was inside he had +to know it and he crept along the wall, pausing only to put his ear +against it, turned the corner and leaped silently through the door, his +arms going out like those of a swimmer. The hut was empty. Relieved for +the moment he slipped out again and started to go toward Kane. + +"I'll bet a month's pay--" he muttered and then stopped, his mind +racing along the trail pointed out by the word. Pay! That was money. +Money? As Hopalong had said, Kane must have plenty of it on him--money? +Like a flash a possible solution sprang into his mind. Kane's money! +Trask was a thief, and what would a thief do if he suspected that the +life savings of a man like Kane might easily be stolen? And especially +when he had been so angered by the possessor of the wealth? + +"I got to move _pronto_!" he growled. "I'm no friend of Kane's but I +ain't goin' to have him killed--not by a coyote like Trask, anyhow. We +got to have him alive, too. An' Hoppy?" His reflections were such that +by the time he came in sight of Kane his feelings were a cross between +a mad mountain lion and an active volcano. He stopped again and looked, +his mind slowly forsaking rage in favor of suspicion. Kane was walking +around in a circle, his eyes closed; his feet were rising and falling +mechanically and with an exaggerated motion. + +"War dancin'?" thought Johnny. "What would he do that for? He ain't +no Injun. I'm sayin' he's loco. Kane loco? Like h--l! Fellers like +him don't get loco. Makin' medicine? I just said he ain't no Injun. +Prancin' around in th' moonlight, liftin' his feet like they had +ropes to 'em to jerk 'em. An' with his eyes close shut! I'm gettin' +a headache an' I'm settin' tight till I get th' hang of this walkin' +Willy. Mebby he thinks he's workin' a charm; but if he is he ain't +goin' to run it on me!" + +He pressed closer against the bowlder which sheltered him and searched +the surroundings again, slowly, painstakingly. Then there came a low +rustling sound, as though a body were being dragged across dried grass. +It was to his left and not far away. If it is possible to endow one +sense with the total strength of all the others, then his ears were so +endowed. Whether or not they were strengthened to an unusual degree +they nevertheless heard the rubbing of soft leather on the bowlder he +lay against, and he held his breath as he reversed his grip on the Colt. + +"Hoppy, or Trask?" he wondered, glad that his head did not project +beyond the rock. A quick glance at the milling Kane showed no change +in that person's antics and he felt certain that he had not been +detected by the boss. He froze tighter if it is possible to improve on +perfection, for his ears caught a renewal of the sounds. Then his eyes +detected a slow movement and focussed on a shadowy hand which fairly +seemed to ooze out beyond the rock. When he discerned a ring on one of +the fingers he knew it was not Hopalong, for his friend wore no ring. +That being so, it only could be Trask who was creeping along the other +side of the rock. Johnny glanced again at the peripatetic gang leader +and back to the creeping hand, and wondered how high in the air its +owner would jump if it were suddenly grabbed. Then he mentally cursed +himself, for his independent imagination threatened to make him laugh. +He could feel the tickle of mirth slyly pervading him and he bit his +lip with an earnestness which cut short the mirth. The hand stopped and +the heel of it went down tightly against the earth as though bearing +a gradual strain. Johnny was reassured again, for Trask never would +be stalking Kane if he had the slightest suspicion that enemies, or +strangers, were in the valley, and he hazarded another glance at Kane. + +The mechanical walker was drawing near the rock again and in a few +steps more would turn his back to it and start away. By this time +Johnny had solved the riddle, for although such a thing was beyond any +experience of his, his wild guess began to be accepted by him: Kane was +walking in his sleep. Where was Hopalong? He hoped his friend would not +try to capture the boss until he, himself, had taken care of Trask. +This must be his first duty, and knowing what Trask would do very +shortly he prepared to do it. + +He got into position to act, moving only when the slight sound of +Kane's footfalls would cover the barely audible noise of his own +movements. Kane's rounding course brought him nearer and then several +things happened at once. The owner of the hand leaped from behind the +rock and as his head popped out into sight a Colt struck it, and then +Johnny started for Kane; but as he reached his feet something hurtled +out of the shadows to his right and bore the boss to the ground. Then +came the sound of another gun-butt meeting another head and the swiftly +moving figure seemed to rebound from the boss and sail toward Johnny, +who had started to meet it. He swerved suddenly and muttered one word, +just as Hopalong swerved from his own course. They both had turned in +the same direction and came together with a force which nearly knocked +them out. Holding to each other to keep their feet, they recovered +their breath and without a word separated at a run, Hopalong going to +Kane and Johnny to Trask. Less dazed by the collision than his friend +was, Johnny finished his work first and then helped Hopalong carry Kane +to the shelter of the rock. + +"Good thing you forgot what I said about watchin' them Greasers," +grunted Hopalong. "It's them next, if--" his words were cut short by +two quick shots, which reverberated throughout the valley, and without +another word he followed his running companion, and scorned cover for +the first few hundred yards. + +When they got close to the trail they saw two bulks on it, which the +moonlight showed to be prostrate horses. + +"Where are they, Red?" shouted Johnny. "They're th' only ones free!" + +"Down near you somewhere," answered the man above, and his words were +proved true by a bullet which hummed past Johnny's ear. He dropped to +his stomach and began to wriggle toward the flash of the gun, Hopalong +already on the way. + +Cut off from escape up the trail the two Mexicans tried to work toward +the hut, from which they could put up a good fight; but their enemies +had guessed their purpose and strove to drive them off at a tangent. + +Red, watching from the top of the cliff, noticed that the occasional +gun flashes were moving steadily northwestward and believed it safe to +leave his position and take an active hand in the events below. After +their experience on the up-slanting trail the Mexicans would hardly +attempt it again, even though they managed to get back to the foot of +it, which seemed very improbable. The thought became action and the +trail guard started to wriggle down the declivity, keeping close to +the bottom of the wall, where the shadows were darkest. Because of +the necessity for not being seen his progress was slow and quite some +time elapsed before he reached the bottom and obtained cover among the +scattered rocks. The infrequent reports were further away now, and +they seemed to be getting further eastward. This meant that they were +nearer to the hut, and his decision was made in a flash. The hut must +not be won by the fugitives, and he arose and ran for it, bent over +and risking safety for speed. After what seemed to be a long time he +reached the little cleared space among the rocks, bounded across it, +and leaped into the black interior of the hut. Wheeling, he leaned +against the rear wall to recover his breath, watching the open door, a +grim smile on his face. While keeping his weary watch up on the rim he +had craved action, and congratulated himself that he now was a great +deal nearer to it than he was before. + +Meanwhile the two fugitives, not stomaching a real stand against the +men whom they had seen exhibit their abilities in Kane's gambling-hall, +had managed to work on a circular course until they were northwest of +the hut and not far from it. This they were enabled to do because they +were not held to a slow and cautious advance by enemies ahead of them, +as were the old Bar-20 pair. They were moving toward the hut, not far +from the north wall of the valley, when they blundered upon Trask. In +a moment he was released and began a frantic search for his gun, which +he found among the rocks not far away. Losing no time he hurried off to +release the man he would have robbed, glad to have his assistance. Kane +went into action like a spring released and began a hot search for his +Colt. When he found it, the cylinder was missing and suspicious noises +not far away from him forced him to abandon the search and seek better +cover, armed only with a deadly and efficient steel club. + +Hopalong and Johnny, guided entirely by hearing, followed the +infrequent low sounds in front of them, thinking that they were made +by the Mexicans, and drew steadily away from the hut. The Mexicans, +motionless in their cover, exulted as their scheme worked out and +finally went on again with no one to oppose them. Reaching the last of +the rocky cover they arose and ran across the open, leaped into the hut +and turned, chuckling, to close the door, leaving Trask to his fate. + +Warned by instinct they faced about as Red leaped. Miguel dropped under +a clubbed gun, but Manuel, writhing sidewise, raised his Colt only to +have it wrenched from his hand by his shifty opponent. Clinching, he +drew a knife and strove desperately to use it as he wrestled with his +sinewy enemy. At last he managed to force the tip of it against Red's +side, barely cutting the flesh; and turned Red into a raging fury. With +one hand around Manuel's neck and the other gripping the wrist of the +knife-hand, Red smashed his head again and again into the Mexican's +face, his knee pressing against the knifeman's stomach. Suddenly +releasing his neck hold Red twisted, got the knife-arm under his +armpit, gripped the elbow with his other hand and exerted his strength +in a twisting heave. The Mexican screamed with pain, sobbed as Red's +knee smashed into his stomach and dropped senseless, his arm broken and +useless. Red dropped with him and hastily bound him as well as possible +in the poor light from the partly opened door. + +He had just finished the knot in the neckerchief when a soft, swift +rustling appraised him of danger and he moved just in time. Miguel's +knife passed through his vest and shirt and pinned him to the +hard-packed floor. Before either could make another move the door +crashed back against the wall and Kane hurtled into the hut, landing +feet first on the wriggling Mexican. He put the knife user out of the +fight and pitched sprawling. His exclamation of surprise told Red that +he was no friend and now, free from the pinning knife, Red pounced on +the scrambling boss. + +The other struggles of the crowded night paled into insignificance when +compared to this one. Red's superior strength and weight was offset by +the fatigue of previous efforts, and Kane's catlike speed. They rolled +from one wall to another, pounding and strangling, Kane as innocent of +the ethics of civilized combat as a maddened bobcat, and he began to +fight in much the same way, using his finger-nails and teeth as fast as +he could find a place for them. Red wanted excitement and was getting +it. Torn and bleeding from nails and teeth, his blows lacking power +because of the closeness of the target and his own fatigue, Red shed +his veneer of civilization and fought like a gorilla. Planting his +useful and well-trained knee in the pit of his adversary's stomach, +he gripped the lean throat with both hands and hammered Kane's head +ceaselessly against the hard earth floor, while his thumbs sank deeply +on each side of the gang leader's windpipe. Too enraged to sense the +weakening opposition, he choked and hammered until Kane was limp and, +writhing from his victim's body, he knelt, grabbed Kane in his brawny +arms, staggered to his feet and with one last surge of energy, hurled +him across the hut. Kane struck the wall and dropped like a bag of +meal, his fighting over for the rest of the night. + +Red stumbled over the Mexicans, fell, picked himself up, and reeled +outside, fighting for breath, his vision blurred and kaleidoscopic, +staring directly at two men among the rocks but seeing nothing. "Come +one, come all--d--d you!" he gasped. + +Trask, thrice wounded, hunted, desperate, fleeing from a man who +seemed to be the devil himself with a six-gun, froze instantly as Red +appeared. Enraged by this unexpected enemy and sudden opposition where +he fondly expected to find none, Trask threw caution to the winds and +raised the muzzle of the Colt. As he pulled the trigger a soaring bulk +landed on his shoulders, knocking the exploding weapon from his hand +and sending him sprawling. Snarling like an animal he twisted around, +wriggled from under and grabbed Johnny's other Colt from its holster. +Before he could use it Johnny's knee pinned it and the hand holding +it to the ground. A clubbed six-gun did the rest and Johnny, calling +to Red to watch Trask, hurried away to see if Roberts and Corwin were +loose. The latter was helpless in the blanket, but Roberts had freed +his feet and was doing well with the knots on his wrists when Johnny's +appearance and growled command put an end to his efforts. He put the +rope back on the kicking feet and arose as Hopalong limped up. + +"Phew!" exclaimed Johnny. "This has been a reg'lar night! Here, you +stay with Corwin while I tote this coyote to th' hut." He got Roberts +onto his back and staggered away, soon returning for the sheriff. + +Dawn found six bound men in varying physical condition sitting with +their backs to the hut, their wounds crudely dressed and their bounds +readjusted and calculated to stay fixed. Kane was vindictive, his +eyes snapping, and he seethed with futile energy, notwithstanding +the mauling he had received. His lean face, puffed, discolored and +wolfishly cruel, worked with a steadily mounting rage, which found +vent at intervals in scathing vituperative comments about Trask, whom +he still blamed for the predicament in which he found himself. Corwin, +sullen and fearful, kept silent, his fingers picking nervously at the +buckle and strap on the back of his vest. Roberts was angry and defiant +and sneered at his erstwhile boss, sending occasional verbal shafts +into him in justification of Trask. The two Mexicans had sunk into the +black depths of despair and acted as though they were stunned. Trask, a +bitter sneer on his face, glared unflinchingly at the storming boss and +showed his teeth in grim, ironical smiles. + +"Th' crossbreed shows th' cur dog when th' wolf is licked," he sneered +in reply to a particularly vicious attack of Kane's. "What you blamin' +me for? You took yore share of Nelson's money, an' took it eager. _You_ +heard me!" he snarled. "I don't care who knows it--I got it, an' you +took yore part of it. It was all right _then_, wasn't it? An' you +didn't _know_ it was his--you let him make a fool of you an' wouldn't +listen to me. But as long as you got yourn you didn't care a whole lot +_who_ lost it. Serves you right." + +"Shut up!" muttered Roberts. + +"Shut up nothin'," jeered Trask. "Think I'm goin' to swing to save a +mad dog like him? Look at him! Look at th' dog breakin' through th' +wolf! _Wolf?_ Huh! Coyote would be more like it. Don't talk to me!" He +looked at the camp fire and at the man busy over it. "I can eat some of +that, Nelson," he said. + +Johnny nodded and went on with the cooking. + +Sounds of horses clattering down the steep trail suddenly were heard +and not much later Red rode up on a horse he had captured from the +rustlers' caviya and dismounted near the fire. His face was a sight, +but the grin which tried to struggle through the bruises was sincere. +He dropped two saddles to the ground, the saddles belonging to the +Mexicans, which he had stopped to strip from the dead horses on the +trail up the wall. + +"Our cayuses went loco near th' crick," he said. "I left Hoppy to take +off th' saddles an' let 'em soak themselves," referring to the three +animals they had left up on the desert the evening before. "I'm all +ready to eat, Kid. How's it shapin' up?" + +"Grab yore holt," grunted Johnny. He stood up to rest his back. "Mebby +it would be more polite to feed our guests first," he grinned. + +Red looked at the line-up. "We'll _have_ to feed 'em, I reckon. I +ain't aimin' to untie no hands. Who's first?" + +"Don't play no favorites," answered Johnny. "Go up an' down th' line +an' give 'em all a chance." He faced the prisoners. "You fellers like +yore coffee smokin'?" Only two men answered, Roberts and Trask, and +they did not like it smoking hot. "Let it cool a little, Red; no use +scaldin' anybody." + +The prisoners had all been fed when Hopalong appeared on another horse +from the rustlers' caviya and swung down. "Smells good, Kid! an' looks +good," he said. "I got all th' saddles on fresh cayuses, waitin'--all +but these here. We'll lead our own cayuses. That Pepper-hoss of yourn +acts lonesome. She ain't lookin' at th' grass, at all." He sat down, +arose part way and felt in his hip pocket, bringing out the cylinder of +a six-gun. Glancing at Kane, to whom it belonged, he tossed it into the +brush and resumed his seat. + +Johnny's face broke into a smile and he whistled shrilly. Quick hoof +beats replied and Pepper, her neck arched, stepped daintily across the +little level patch of ground and nosed her master. + +"Ha!" grunted Trask. "That's a _hoss_!" A malignant grin spread over +his face and he turned his head to look at Kane. "Kane, how much money, +that money you got on you now, would you give to be on that black back, +up on th' edge of th' valley? _All_ of it, I bet!" + +"Shut up!" snapped Roberts, angrily. + +"Go to h--l," sneered Trask, and he laughed nastily. "You wait till I +speak my little piece before you tell me to shut up! No dog is goin' to +ride me to a frazzle, blamin' me for this wind-up, without me havin' +somethin' to say about it!" He looked at Red. "What was them two shots +I heard, up there on top? They was th' first fired last night." + +"That was me droppin' th' Greasers' cayuses from under 'em on th' +ledge," Red answered. "They was pullin' stakes for th' desert." + +"Leavin' us to do th' dancin', huh?" snapped Trask. "All right; I know +another little piece to speak. Where you fellers takin' us?" + +Red shrugged his shoulders and went off to get horses for the crowd. + +A straggling line of mounted men climbed the cliff trail, the horses of +the inner six fastened by lariats to each other, and three saddleless +animals brought up the rear. They pushed up against the sky line in +successive bumps and started westward across the desert. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIV + + SQUARED UP ALL AROUND + + +Mesquite, still humming from the tension of the past week felt its +excitement grow as Bill Trask, bound securely and guarded by Hopalong, +rode down the street and stopped in front of Quayle's, where the noise +made by the gathering crowd brought Idaho to the door. + +"Hey!" he shouted over his shoulder. "Look at this!" Then he ran out +and helped Hopalong with the prisoner. + +Quayle, Lukins, Waffles, McCullough, and Ed Doane fell back from the +door and let the newcomers enter, Idaho slamming it shut in the face of +the crowd. Then Ed Doane had his hands full as the crowd surged into +the barroom. + +"Upstairs!" said Hopalong, steering the prisoner ahead of him. In a +few minutes they all were in Johnny's old room, where Trask, his ropes +eased, began a talk which held the interest of his auditors. At its +conclusion McCullough nodded and turned to Hopalong. + +"All this may be true," he said; "but what does it all amount to +without th' fellers he names? If you'd kept out of th' fight an' hadn't +set fire to that buildin' we would 'a' got every one of them he names. +Gimme Kane an' th' others an' better proof than his story an' you got a +claim to that reward that's double sewed." + +Hopalong seemed contrite and downcast. He looked around the group and +let his eyes return to those of the trail-boss. "I reckon so," he +growled. "But have you got th' numbers of th' missin' bills?" he asked, +skeptically. + +"Yes, I have; an' a lot of good it'll do me, _now_!" snapped +McCullough. "We was countin' on them for th' real proof, but that fool +play of yourn threw 'em into th' discard! What'n h--l made you set that +place afire?" + +Hopalong shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno," he muttered. "Was you +aimin' to find th' missin' bills on them fellers?" he asked. "Would +that 'a' satisfied you?" + +"Of course!" snorted the trail-boss. "An' with Trask, here, turnin' +agin' 'em like he has it would be more than enough. Any fool knows +that!" + +Hopalong arose. "I'm glad to hear you come right out an' say that, for +that's what I wanted to know. I've been bothered a heap about what you +might ask in th' line of proof. You shore relieve my mind, Mac. If you +fellers will straddle leather we'll ride out where Kane an' th' others +Trask named are waitin' for visitors. I don't reckon they none of them +got away from Johnny an' Red." + +"What are you talkin' about?" demanded McCullough, his mouth open from +surprise. + +"I mean we've got Kane, Roberts, Corwin, Miguel, an' another Greaser +all tied up, waitin' to turn 'em over to you an' collect them rewards. +As long as we know just what you want, an' can give it to you, I don't +see no use of waitin'. I'm invitin' Lukins an' th' rest along to see +th' finish. What you goin' to do with Trask?" + +McCullough was looking at him through squinting eyes, his face a more +ruddy color. Glancing around the group he let his eyes rest on Trask. +Shrugging his shoulders he faced Hopalong. "Take him south, I reckon, +with th' others. If he talks before a jury like he's talked up here I +reckon he won't be sorry for it." He walked to a window and looked down +into the street. "Hey!" he called. "Walt, get a couple of th' boys an' +come up here right away. We got somebody for you to stay with," and in +a few minutes he and the others left Walt and his companions to guard +and protect the prisoner. + +The sun was at the meridian when Hopalong led his companions into the +Sand Creek camp and dismounted in front of Red, who was watching the +prisoners. + +"Where's th' Kid?" he asked curiously. + +"Don't you do no worryin'," answered Red. He lowered his voice and put +his mouth close to his friend's ear. "Th' Greaser on th' end is goin' +to pieces. Pound him hard an' he'll show his cards." + +The information was conveyed to McCullough, who stood looking at the +downcast group. He strode over to Miguel, grabbed his shoulders and +jerked him to his feet. Running his hands into the Mexican's pockets he +brought out a roll of bills. Swiftly running through them he drew out +a bill, compared it with a slip which he produced from his own pocket, +whirled the bound man around and glared into the frightened eyes. + +"Where'd you get this?" he shouted, shaking his captive. + +"Kane geeve eet to me--he owe me money," answered the Mexican. + +"What for?" demanded McCullough, shaking him again. + +"I lend heem eet." + +"You loaned _him_ money?" roared the trail-boss. "That's likely! Why +did he give it to you?" + +Miguel shrugged his shoulders and did not answer. + +McCullough jerked him half around and pointed to Hopalong. "This man +here saw you sneakin' from Kane's south stable with a smokin' Sharp's +in yore hand after you shot Ridley. Trask says you did it. Is _this_ +all Kane gave you for that killin'?" + +"I could no help," protested Miguel, squirming in the trail-boss' grip. +"W'en Kane he say do theese or that theeng, I mus' do eet. I no want to +but I mus'." + +McCullough whirled around and faced Corwin. "That story you told me +down in th' bunkhouse that night about how Bill Long shot Ridley is +near word for word what Bill says about th' Greaser, an' Trask's story +backs him up. How did you come to know so much about it? Come on, +you coyote; spit it out! Who told you what to say?" Corwin's silence +angered him and he showed his teeth. "There's a lynchin' waitin' for +you in town, Corwin, if you don't stop it by speakin' up. Who told you +that?" + +Corwin looked away. "Miguel," he muttered. "I told you I was hopin' to +get th' real one." + +"He lie! I never say to heem one word!" shouted the Mexican. "He lie! +Kane, he was the only one who know like that beside me!" + +"Stand up, _Sheriff_!" snapped McCullough. He searched the sullen +prisoner and found two rolls of bills. Going quickly over them he +removed and grouped certain of them, and then compared them with his +list. "There's five here that tally with th' bank's numbers," he said, +looking up. "Where'd you get 'em?" + +"Won 'em at faro-bank." + +"Won five five-hundred-dollar bills at faro, when everybody knows yo're +a two-bit gambler?" shouted the trail-boss. "I'm no d--d fool! Don't +you forget what I said about th' lynchin', Corwin. I'm all that stands +between you an' it. Where'd you get 'em? Like Trask said?" + +Corwin's hunted look flashed despairingly around the group. "No," he +said. "Kane gave 'em to me, to get changed into smaller bills!" + +"Reckon Kane must 'a' robbed that bank all by hisself," sneered +McCullough. "I never knowed he had diamond drills an' could bust +safes. Didn't you go along to protect an' keep an eye on that eastern +safe-blower that Kane had come to do th' job? _Pronto!_ Didn't you?" + +"I had to," growled Corwin, in a voice so low that the answer was lost +to all but the man to whom he was talking. + +McCullough gave him a contemptuous shove and wheeled to question +Roberts. "Get up," he ordered, and searched the rustler trail-boss. "By +G--d!" he exclaimed when he saw the size of the roll. "You coyotes was +makin' money fast! There's near three thousand here! Let's see how they +compare with my list." In a few moments he nodded. "How'd you get these +five-hundred-dollar bills? Kane give 'em to you, too?" + +"No, Kane didn't give 'em to me!" snapped Roberts in angry contempt. +"I earned 'em as my share of th' bank robbery, along with Corwin, th' +white-livered snake! Kane didn't give 'em to either of us." He glared +at the one-time sheriff. "I'm sayin' plain that if I ever get a chance +I'm aimin' to shoot this skunk, along with Trask. You hear me?" + +"If you ain't got a gun, hunt me up an' I'll lend you one," offered +Idaho. + +"Shut up!" snapped McCullough, glaring at the puncher. Whirling he +pushed Roberts away. "It'll be a long time before you shoot anybody or +anythin'. Now, then," he said, stepping up in front of Kane: "Get up!" + +Kane arose slowly, his eyes burning with rage. He submitted to the +exploring fingers of the trail-boss and maintained a contemptuous +silence as his shirt was whipped up out of his trousers and the two +money belts removed from around his waist. + +McCullough opened the belts and his eyes at the same time. Neatly +folded bunches of greenbacks followed each other in swift succession +from the pockets of the belts and, scattering as they were tossed into +a pile, made quite an imposing sight. Staring eyes regarded them and +more than one observer's mouth gaped widely. + +"Seven thousand," announced McCullough, reaching for another handful. +"I'm sayin' you wasn't leavin' nothin' behind." He looked up again +after a moment. "Eighteen thousand five hundred," he growled and picked +up another handful. "Holy mavericks!" he breathed as the last bill was +counted and placed on the new pile. "Forty-nine thousand eight hundred +and seventy! You was takin' chances, totin' all that with this gang of +thieves! Fifty thousand dollars, U. S.!" + +Handing his written list to Quayle, he selected the +five-hundred-dollar bills and called off the numbers laboriously, +Quayle as laboriously hunting through the list. It took considerable +time before they were checked off and put to one side, and then he +looked up. + +"There's still a-plenty of them bills missin'," he announced. "Where +did _they_ get to?" + +Hopalong stepped forward and drew a roll from his pocket. "Here's what +I found on Sandy Woods when he died in this camp," he said, offering it +to the astonished trail-boss. + +McCullough took it, opened and counted it and called the numbers off to +the excited holder of the list. + +"They're all on th' list--th' Lord be praised!" said Quayle. + +"Where'd Sandy Woods come in this?" demanded McCullough, looking around +from face to face. + +Roberts sneered. "Huh! He was th' man that took th' safe-blower out of +th' country. He didn't have no hand in th' bank job. I'm glad th' skunk +died, an' I'm glad it was me that planned his finish. He shore must 'a' +held up that feller. How much is there, in th' bank's bills?" + +"Five thousand," answered the trail-boss. + +"He got it all, cuss him!" snorted Roberts. + +McCullough looked at Kane. "I never hoped to meet you like this," he +said. "I ain't goin' to ask you no questions--you can talk in court, +an' explain how you came to have so many of th' registered bills; an' +there's other little things you can tell about, if somebody don't tell +it all first." He turned to Hopalong. "We'll be takin' these fellers to +th' ranch now." + +"Better take th' reward money out of that bundle," replied Hopalong, +nodding at the money in the hands of the trail-boss. "We've dealt 'em +like you asked, an' gave you th' cards you want. Our part is finished." + +McCullough looked from him to the prisoners and then at his friends. +"How can I hand it to _you_?" he asked. "Where's Nelson? He's settin' +in this." + +"He'll show up after th' money's paid," said Red innocently as he arose. + +McCullough hesitated and looked around again. As he did so Idaho +carelessly walked over to Red, smoothing out a cigarette paper, and +took hold of a paper tag hanging out of Red's pocket and pulled it. +Carelessly rolling a cigarette he shoved the tobacco sack back where +he had found it, but he did not leave Red's side. Blowing a lungful of +smoke into the air he smiled at McCullough. + +"Shucks, Mac," he said. "You shouldn't ought to have no trouble findin' +them rewards in that unholy wad. An' mebby you could find Nelson's +missin' eleven hundred on Trask, if you looked real hard. I like a man +that goes through with his play." + +"I'm not lookin' for no eleven hundred at all!" snapped McCullough. +"An' I ain't shore that they've earned th' reward, burnin' that +buildin' like they did! They let these fellers get away, first!" + +"I just handed you th' money I found on Sandy Woods," said Hopalong. +"That's like givin' it to you to pay us with. H--l! You act like you +hated to make good Twitchell's bargain. Well, of course, you don't have +to take this bunch, nor th' money, neither; but I'm sayin' they don't +go separate. Suits us, Mac--we'll keep th' whole show--money an' all, +if you say so." + +"Fine chance you got!" retorted the trail-boss, bridling. "They're +here--an' I'm takin' 'em, _with_ th' money." + +"There ain't nobody takin' nothin'," rejoined Hopalong calmly, "until +th' bargain's finished. Don't rile Johnny, off there in th' brush; +he's plumb touchy." His drawling voice changed swiftly. "Come on--a +bargain's a bargain. Five thousand, _now_!" + +"Mac!" said Quayle's accusing voice. + +The trail-boss looked at the money in his hand and slowly counted out +the reward amount, careful not to include any of the registered bills. +"Here," he said, handing them to Hopalong. "You give us a hand gettin' +'em to th' ranch?" + +"If three of us could catch 'em, an' bring 'em here," said Hopalong, +coldly, "I reckon you got enough help to take 'em th' rest of th' +way--if you steer clear of town." + +"Don't worry, Mac," said Idaho, cheerfully. "_I_'ll go along with you." + +The trail-boss growled in his throat and began, with Lukins, Waffles, +and Quayle, to get the prisoners on the horses. This soon was +accomplished and he headed them south, Lukins on the other side, Quayle +and Waffles and Idaho bringing up the rear. + +"Better come to town for a celebration," called the proprietor, +disappointment in his voice. "Ye can leave at dawn." + +Johnny shook his head. "There's a celebration waitin' at th' ranch," +he shouted, and turned to find his two companions mounted and his +black horse waiting impatiently for him. Mounting, he wheeled to face +northward, but checked the horse and turned to look back in answer to +a faint hail from Idaho, and grinned at the insulting gesture of the +distant puncher. + +He replied in kind, chuckled, and dashed forward to overtake his moving +friends. + +"Home!" he exulted. "Home--an' _Peggy_!" + + + + + Popular Copyright Novels + + _AT MODERATE PRICES_ + + Ask Your Dealer for a Complete List of + A. L. Burt Company's Popular Copyright Fiction + + +=Adventures of Jimmie Dale, The.= By Frank L. Packard. + +=Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.= By A. Conan Doyle. + +=Affinities, and Other Stories.= By Mary Roberts Rinehart. + +=After House, The.= By Mary Roberts Rinehart. + +=Against the Winds.= By Kate Jordan. + +=Ailsa Paige.= By Robert W. Chambers. + +=Also Ran.= By Mrs. Baillie Reynolds. + +=Amateur Gentleman, The.= By Jeffery Farnol. + +=Anderson Crow, Detective.= By George Barr McCutcheon. + +=Anna, the Adventuress.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +=Anne's House of Dreams.= By L. M. Montgomery. + +=Anybody But Anne.= By Carolyn Wells. + +=Are All Men Alike, and The Lost Titian.= By Arthur Stringer. + +=Around Old Chester.= By Margaret Deland. + +=Ashton-Kirk, Criminologist.= By John T. McIntyre. + +=Ashton-Kirk, Investigator.= By John T. McIntyre. + +=Ashton-Kirk, Secret Agent.= By John T. McIntyre. + +=Ashton-Kirk, Special Detective.= By John T. McIntyre. + +=Athalie.= By Robert W. Chambers. + +=At the Mercy of Tiberius.= By Augusta Evans Wilson. + +=Auction Block, The.= By Rex Beach. + +=Aunt Jane of Kentucky.= By Eliza C. Hall. + +=Awakening of Helena Richie.= By Margaret Deland. + + + +=Bab: a Sub-Deb.= By Mary Roberts Rinehart. + +=Bambi.= By Marjorie Benton Cooke. + +=Barbarians.= By Robert W. Chambers. + +=Bar 20=. By Clarence E. Mulford. + +=Bar 20 Days.= By Clarence E. Mulford. + +=Barrier, The.= By Rex Beach. + +=Bars of Iron, The.= By Ethel M. Dell. + +=Beasts of Tarzan, The.= By Edgar Rice Burroughs. + +=Beckoning Roads.= By Jeanne Judson. + +=Belonging.= By Olive Wadsley. + +=Beloved Traitor, The.= By Frank L. Packard. + +=Beloved Vagabond, The.= By Wm. J. Locke. + +=Beltane the Smith.= By Jeffery Farnol. + +=Betrayal, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +=Beulah.= (Ill. Ed.) By Augusta J. Evans. + +=Beyond the Frontier.= By Randall Parrish. + +=Big Timber.= By Bertrand W. Sinclair. + +=Black Bartlemy's Treasure.= By Jeffery Farnol. + +=Black Is White.= By George Barr McCutcheon. + +=Blacksheep! Blacksheep!= By Meredith Nicholson. + +=Blind Man's Eyes, The.= By Wm. Mac Harg and Edwin Balmer. + +=Boardwalk, The.= By Margaret Widdemer. + +=Bob Hampton of Placer.= By Randall Parrish. + +=Bob, Son of Battle.= By Alfred Olivant. + +=Box With Broken Seals, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +=Boy With Wings, The.= By Berta Ruck. + +=Brandon of the Engineers.= By Harold Bindloss. + +=Bridge of Kisses, The.= By Berta Ruck. + +=Broad Highway, The.= By Jeffery Farnol. + +=Broadway Bab.= By Johnston McCulley. + +=Brown Study, The.= By Grace S. Richmond. + +=Bruce of the Circle A.= By Harold Titus. + +=Buccaneer Farmer, The.= By Harold Bindloss. + +=Buck Peters, Ranchman.= By Clarence E. Mulford. + +=Builders, The.= By Ellen Glasgow. + +=Business of Life, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + + +=Cab of the Sleeping Horse, The.= By John Reed Scott. + +=Cabbage and Kings.= By O. Henry. + +=Cabin Fever.= By B. M. Bower. + +=Calling of Dan Matthews, The.= By Harold Bell Wright. + +=Cape Cod Stories.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +=Cap'n Abe, Storekeeper.= By James A. Cooper. + +=Cap'n Dan's Daughter.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +=Cap'n Erl.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +=Cap'n Jonah's Fortune.= By James A. Cooper. + +=Cap'n Warren's Wards.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +=Chinese Label, The.= By J. Frank Davis. + +=Christine of the Young Heart.= By Louise Breintenbach Clancy. + +=Cinderella Jane.= By Marjorie B. Cooke. + +=Cinema Murder, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +=City of Masks, The.= By George Barr McCutcheon. + +=Cleek of Scotland Yard.= By T. W. Hanshew. + +=Cleek, The Man of Forty Faces.= By Thomas W. Hanshew. + +=Cleek's Government Cases.= By Thomas W. Hanshew. + +=Clipped Wings.= By Rupert Hughes. + +=Clutch of Circumstance, The.= By Marjorie Benton Cooke. + +=Coast of Adventure, The.= By Harold Bindloss. + +=Come-Back, The.= By Carolyn Wells. + +=Coming of Cassidy, The.= By Clarence E. Mulford. + +=Coming of the Law, The.= By Charles A. Seltzer. + +=Comrades of Peril.= By Randall Parrish. + +=Conquest of Canaan, The.= By Booth Tarkington. + +=Conspirators, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + +=Contraband.= By Randall Parrish. + +=Cottage of Delight, The.= By Will N. Harben. + +=Court of Inquiry, A.= By Grace S. Richmond. + +=Cricket, The.= By Marjorie Benton Cooke. + +=Crimson Gardenia, The, and Other Tales of Adventure.= By Rex Beach. + +=Crimson Tide, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + +=Cross Currents.= By Author of "Pollyanna." + +=Cross Pull, The.= By Hal. G. Evarts. + +=Cry in the Wilderness, A.= By Mary E. Waller. + +=Cry of Youth, A.= By Cynthia Lombardi. + +=Cup of Fury, The.= By Rupert Hughes. + +=Curious Quest, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + + +=Danger and Other Stories.= By A. Conan Doyle. + +=Dark Hollow, The.= By Anna Katharine Green. + +=Dark Star, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + +=Daughter Pays, The.= By Mrs. Baillie Reynolds. + +=Day of Days, The.= By Louis Joseph Vance. + +=Depot Master, The.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +=Destroying Angel, The.= By Louis Joseph Vance. + +=Devil's Own, The.= By Randall Parrish. + +=Devil's Paw, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +=Disturbing Charm, The.= By Berta Ruck. + +=Door of Dread, The.= By Arthur Stringer. + +=Dope.= By Sax Rohmer. + +=Double Traitor, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +=Duds.= By Henry C. Rowland. + + +=Empty Pockets.= By Rupert Hughes. + +=Erskine Dale Pioneer.= By John Fox, Jr. + +=Everyman's Land.= By C. N. & A. M. Williamson. + +=Extricating Obadiah.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +=Eyes of the Blind, The.= By Arthur Somers Roche. + +=Eyes of the World, The.= By Harold Bell Wright. + + +=Fairfax and His Pride.= By Marie Van Vorst. + +=Felix O'Day.= By F. Hopkinson Smith. + +=54-40 or Fight.= By Emerson Hough. + +=Fighting Chance, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + +=Fighting Fool, The.= By Dane Coolidge. + +=Fighting Shepherdess, The.= By Caroline Lockhart. + +=Financier, The.= By Theodore Dreiser. + +=Find the Woman.= By Arthur Somers Roche. + +=First Sir Percy, The.= By The Baroness Orczy. + +=Flame, The.= By Olive Wadsley. + +=For Better, for Worse.= By W. B. Maxwell. + +=Forbidden Trail, The.= By Honorè Willsie. + +=Forfeit, The.= By Ridgwell Cullum. + +=Fortieth Door, The.= By Mary Hastings Bradley. + +=Four Million, The.= By O. Henry. + +=From Now On.= By Frank L. Packard. + +=Fur Bringers, The.= By Hulbert Footner. + +=Further Adventures of Jimmie Dale.= By Frank L. Packard. + + +=Get Your Man.= By Ethel and James Dorrance. + +=Girl in the Mirror, The.= By Elizabeth Jordan. + +=Girl of O. K. Valley, The.= By Robert Watson. + +=Girl of the Blue Ridge, A.= By Payne Erskine. + +=Girl from Keller's, The.= By Harold Bindloss. + +=Girl Philippa, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + +=Girls at His Billet, The.= By Berta Ruck. + +=Glory Rides the Range.= By Ethel and James Dorrance. + +=Gloved Hand, The.= By Burton E. Stevenson. + +=God's Country and the Woman.= By James Oliver Curwood. + +=God's Good Man.= By Marie Corelli. + +=Going Some.= By Rex Beach. + +=Gold Girl, The.= By James B. Hendryx. + +=Golden Scorpion, The.= By Sax Rohmer. + +=Golden Slipper, The.= By Anna Katharine Green. + +=Golden Woman, The.= By Ridgwell Cullum. + +=Good References.= By E. J. Rath. + +=Gorgeous Girl, The.= By Nalbro Bartley. + +=Gray Angels, The.= By Nalbro Bartley. + +=Great Impersonation, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +=Greater Love Hath No Man.= By Frank L. Packard. + +=Green Eyes of Bast, The.= By Sax Rohmer. + +=Greyfriars Bobby.= By Eleanor Atkinson. + +=Gun Brand, The.= By James B. Hendryx. + + +=Hand of Fu-Manchu, The.= By Sax Rohmer. + +=Happy House.= By Baroness Von Hutten. + +=Harbor Road, The.= By Sara Ware Bassett. + +=Havoc.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +=Heart of the Desert, The.= By Honorè Willsie. + +=Heart of the Hills, The.= By John Fox, Jr. + +=Heart of the Sunset.= By Rex Beach. + +=Heart of Thunder Mountain, The.= By Edfrid A. Bingham. + +=Heart of Unaga, The.= By Ridgwell Cullum. + +=Hidden Children, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + +=Hidden Trails.= By William Patterson White. + +=Highflyers, The.= By Clarence B. Kelland. + +=Hillman, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +=Hills of Refuge, The.= By Will N. Harben. + +=His Last Bow.= By A. Conan Doyle. + +=His Official Fiancee.= By Berta Ruck. + +=Honor of the Big Snows.= By James Oliver Curwood. + +=Hopalong Cassidy.= By Clarence E. Mulford. + +=Hound from the North, The.= By Ridgwell Cullum. + +=House of the Whispering Pines, The.= By Anna Katharine Green. + +=Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker.= By S. Weir Mitchell, M.D. + +=Humoresque.= By Fannie Hurst. + + +=I Conquered.= By Harold Titus. + +=Illustrious Prince, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +=In Another Girl's Shoes.= By Berta Ruck. + +=Indifference of Juliet, The.= By Grace S. Richmond. + +=Inez.= (Ill. Ed.) By Augusta J. Evans. + +=Infelice.= By Augusta Evans Wilson. + +=Initials Only.= By Anna Katharine Green. + +=Inner Law, The.= By Will N. Harben. + +=Innocent.= By Marie Corelli. + +=In Red and Gold.= By Samuel Merwin. + +=Insidious Dr. Fu-Manchu, The.= By Sax Rohmer. + +=In the Brooding Wild.= By Ridgwell Cullum. + +=Intriguers, The.= By William Le Queux. + +=Iron Furrow, The.= By George C. Shedd. + +=Iron Trail, The.= By Rex Beach. + +=Iron Woman, The.= By Margaret Deland. + +=Ishmael.= (Ill.) By Mrs. Southworth. + +=Island of Surprise.= By Cyrus Townsend Brady. + +=I Spy.= By Natalie Sumner Lincoln. + +=It Pays to Smile.= By Nina Wilcox Putnam. + +=I've Married Marjorie.= By Margaret Widdemer. + + +=Jean of the Lazy A.= By B. M. Bower. + +=Jeanne of the Marshes.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +=Jennie Gerhardt.= By Theodore Dreiser. + +=Johnny Nelson.= By Clarence E. Mulford. + +=Judgment House, The.= By Gilbert Parker. + + +=Keeper of the Door, The.= By Ethel M. Dell. + +=Keith of the Border.= By Randall Parrish. + +=Kent Knowles: Quahaug.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +=Kingdom of the Blind, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +=King Spruce.= By Holman Day. + +=Knave of Diamonds, The.= By Ethel M. Dell. + + +=La Chance Mine Mystery, The.= By S. Carleton. + +=Lady Doc, The.= By Caroline Lockhart. + +=Land-Girl's Love Story, A.= By Berta Ruck. + +=Land of Strong Men, The.= By A. M. Chisholm. + +=Last Straw, The.= By Harold Titus. + +=Last Trail, The.= By Zane Grey. + +=Laughing Bill Hyde.= By Rex Beach. + +=Laughing Girl, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + +=Law Breakers, The.= By Ridgwell Cullum. + +=Law of the Gun, The.= By Ridgwell Cullum. + +=League of the Scarlet Pimpernel.= By Baroness Orczy. + +=Lifted Veil, The.= By Basil King. + +=Lighted Way, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +=Lin McLean.= By Owen Wister. + +=Little Moment of Happiness, The.= By Clarence Budington Kelland. + +=Lion's Mouse, The.= By C. N. & A. M. Williamson. + +=Lonesome Land.= By B. M. Bower. + +=Lone Wolf, The.= By Louis Joseph Vance. + +=Lonely Stronghold, The.= By Mrs. Baillie Reynolds. + +=Long Live the King.= By Mary Roberts Rinehart. + +=Lost Ambassador.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +=Lost Prince, The.= By Frances Hodgson Burnett. + +=Lydia of the Pines.= By Honorè Willsie. + +=Lynch Lawyers.= By William Patterson White. + + +=Macaria.= (Ill. Ed.) By Augusta J. Evans. + +=Maid of the Forest, The.= By Randall Parrish. + +=Maid of Mirabelle, The.= By Eliot H. Robinson. + +=Maid of the Whispering Hills, The.= By Vingie E. Roe. + +=Major, The.= By Ralph Connor. + +=Maker of History, A.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +=Malefactor, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +=Man from Bar 20, The.= By Clarence E. Mulford. + +=Man from Bitter Roots, The.= By Caroline Lockhart. + +=Man from Tall Timber, The.= By Thomas K. Holmes. + +=Man an the Jury Box, The.= By Robert Orr Chipperfield. + +=Man-Killers, The.= By Dane Coolidge. + +=Man Proposes.= By Eliot H. Robinson, author of "Smiles." + +=Man Trail, The.= By Henry Oyen. + +=Man Who Couldn't Sleep, The.= By Arthur Stringer. + +=Marqueray's Duel.= By Anthony Pryde. + +=Mary 'Gusta.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +=Mary Wollaston.= By Henry Kitchell Webster. + +=Mason of Bar X Ranch.= By E. Bennett. + +=Master Christian, The.= By Marie Corelli. + +=Master Mummer, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +=Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes.= By A. Conan Doyle. + +=Men Who Wrought, The.= By Ridgwell Cullum. + +=Midnight of the Ranges.= By George Gilbert. + +=Mischief Maker, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +=Missioner, The.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +=Miss Million's Maid.= By Berta Ruck. + +=Money Master, The.= By Gilbert Parker. + +=Money Moon, The.= By Jeffery Farnol. + +=Moonlit Way, The.= By Robert W. Chambers. + +=More Tish.= By Mary Roberts Rinehart. + +=Mountain Girl, The.= By Payne Erskine. + +=Mr. Bingle.= By George Barr McCutcheon. + +=Mr. Grex of Monte Carlo.= By E. Phillips Oppenheim. + +=Mr. Pratt.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +=Mr. Pratt's Patients.= By Joseph C. Lincoln. + +=Mr. Wu.= By Louise Jordan Miln. + +=Mrs. Balfame.= By Gertrude Atherton. + +=Mrs. Red Pepper.= By Grace S. Richmond. + +=My Lady of the North.= By Randall Parrish. + +=My Lady of the South.= By Randall Parrish. + +=Mystery of the Hasty Arrow, The.= By Anna K. Green. + +=Mystery of the Silver Dagger, The.= By Randall Parrish. + +=Mystery of the 13th Floor, The.= By Lee Thayer. + + +=Nameless Man, The.= By Natalie Sumner Lincoln. + +=Ne'er-Do-Well, The.= By Rex Beach. + +=Net, The.= By Rex Beach. + +=New Clarion.= By Will N. Harben. + +=Night Horseman, The.= By Max Brand. + +=Night Operator, The.= By Frank L. Packard. + +=Night Riders, The.= By Ridgwell Cullum. + +=North of the Law.= By Samuel Alexander White. + + +=One Way Trail, The.= By Ridgwell Cullum. + +=Outlaw, The.= By Jackson Gregory. + +=Owner of the Lazy D.= By William Patterson White. + + +=Painted Meadows.= By Sophie Kerr. + +=Palmetto.= By Stella G. S. Perry. + +=Paradise Bend.= By William Patterson White. + +=Pardners.= By Rex Beach. + +=Parrot & Co.= By Harold MacGrath. + +=Partners of the Night.= By Leroy Scott. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Bar-20 Three, by Clarence Edward Mulford + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 58155 *** |