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+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #64757 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/64757)
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of Paid Off, by Walter J. Coburn
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: Paid Off
-
-Author: Walter J. Coburn
-
-Release Date: March 08, 2021 [eBook #64757]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-Produced by: Roger Frank
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PAID OFF ***
-
-ADVENTURE
-
-July 10, 1925
-
-Vol. LIII, No. IIII
-
-
-
-
-PAID OFF
-
-A Complete Novelette
-
-By
-
-Walter J. Coburn
-
-Author of “The Grub Line,” “Deuce High,” etc.
-
-
-
-
-I
-
-
-“Bow-legged runt, eh? And my Skewball pony’s a crow-bait, eh? And
-I’m too —— small for a growed-up man tuh tackle, am I?”
-
-Each grunting, panting question was punctuated by a stinging slap.
-Shorty Carroway’s breath came in gasps from between a pair of
-bruised, bleeding lips.
-
-His weight resting on the heaving chest of the big man under him,
-knees jammed into the bulging muscles of that beaten man’s forearms,
-Shorty’s full-swung slaps jolted the swollen, battered face. Then
-the little cowpuncher’s hand gripped the shock of hair and raised
-the big head from the sawdust-covered floor.
-
-“Got a plenty?”
-
-Shorty shifted his weight to one side and a sharp-roweled,
-long-shanked spur raked the ribs beneath the big man’s heavy
-mackinaw. He grinned mirthlessly into the bloodshot eyes of the
-heavyweight champion of the Little Rockies.
-
-“Yuh made a crack a few minutes ago that you was the toughest gent
-in Montana,” grunted Shorty. “Yuh took in too much range, yuh
-sway-backed, muscle-bound, stove-up ox. Well I’m from Arizona,
-_sabe_? And down there, we got cripples that kin lay aside their
-crutches and whup you. Yuh picked on me because I’m kinda small and
-a stranger, and yuh grabbed yorese’f a handful uh hornets, didn’t
-yuh? Got a plenty, —— yuh?”
-
-Another slap sent the miner’s head back into the sawdust.
-
-Tad Ladd, partner of the fighting cowpuncher, paced up and down
-before a crowd of miners and cowpunchers who crowded backward behind
-the battered pool table and abandoned faro layout.
-
-“That’s my li’l’ ol’ runt of a pardner, yonder,” he taunted the
-surly crowd. “My danged li’l ol’ bench-legged pard. Watch him,
-_hombres_! Watch him clost while yuh see yore Alder Gulch champeen
-git his needin’s. Got ary more sledge-swingin’, snuff-eatin’,
-loud-mouthed fightin’ men that wants tuh git worked down to Shorty’s
-size and whupped by a gent that does it scientific? Got ary more
-nasty remarks tuh make about the ponies that me and my pardner
-rides? Got ary——”
-
-“What the —— goes on in here?”
-
-The voice came from the doorway in no uncertain tones. A gray
-mustached, white-haired man of stocky build stepped through the
-swinging doors. To the lapel of his open vest was pinned a sheriff’s
-badge. A blue-barreled .45 covered Tad.
-
-Behind the sheriff stood a mottle-faced, white-aproned man in shirt
-sleeves. The man’s clothes were torn and dust-covered. His pudgy
-hands and mottled face were covered with small cuts.
-
-Tad shoved his gun back into the waistband of his faded overalls. He
-grinned pleasantly at the sheriff, nodded, then his grin widened as
-he looked at the portly man in the discolored apron.
-
-“So yo’re back, eh?” he said pleasantly. “Jest like a danged
-jack-in-the-box. I pitch yuh out the window and yuh come back
-through the door.”
-
-Tad turned to Shorty, who, heedless of the interruption, was lending
-an attentive ear to the pleadings of the whipped miner.
-
-“Let up on the big rock-buster, Shorty,” he called. “John Law has
-done took chips in the game.”
-
-Tad’s words had much the same effect as a bucket of ice water thrown
-on a couple of fighting dogs. Shorty got to his feet, felt of a
-discolored and partially closed eye, and reached for papers and
-tobacco. He grinned uneasily into the cold-blue eyes of the sheriff.
-
-“Hand me my gun, Taddie,” he said, his breath coming in labored
-gasps. “We’d jest as well be moving along, I reckon.”
-
-But the sheriff blocked the exit.
-
-“I’m takin’ charge uh the shootin’ irons,” he said sternly. “Ante,
-big ’un. Butts first. Thanks.”
-
-He shoved the tendered weapons into his waistband.
-
-“Will you two come peaceable er do I put the ’cuffs on yuh?”
-
-“Yuh mean we’re arrested?” gasped Shorty.
-
-“Yuh don’t think fer a minute that you trouble hunters kin come into
-my town, bust out windows and raise —— in general, and not see the
-inside uh my jail, do yuh?”
-
-Shorty turned a sorrowful gaze on his big partner.
-
-“Kin yuh beat it, Tad? Kin yuh ever tie it? Looks like it’s ag’in
-the law tuh trim down oxes like that bohunk settin’ yonder,
-a-feelin’ his sore spots. Down home there’s a bounty on ’em.”
-
-“But we’re a long ways from home, runt. And as the sayin’ goes, we
-has fell among strangers. Montana ain’t Arizona and our footin’
-ain’t so —— solid as she might be.”
-
-“But dang it all, Sheriff,” pleaded Shorty, “the low-down skunk was
-blackguardin’ my Skewball pony. The best hoss, barrin’ none, that
-ever packed a cow hand. Yuh seen him outside? Bald-faced black with
-stockin’ legs? The fastest cow pony north uh —— is Skewball, and I
-ain’t aimin’ tuh have no quartz-clawin’ pick-rassler hoo-rawin’ me
-regardin’ him! I’ll gouge his eyes outa him an’——”
-
-Tad’s restraining hand kept Shorty from renewing the fight. The
-crowd surged forward angrily.
-
-“Easy, runt,” cautioned Tad. “Yuh won yore fight. We’re plumb
-overmatched.”
-
-“Why the —— don’t you take ’em to the hoosegow?” whined the
-white-aproned saloon man. “They’ll be gettin’ away if yuh ain’t
-careful.”
-
-“I reckon not,” said the sheriff. “I got their guns.”
-
-“Yo’re plumb welcome to the smoke-poles, Sheriff,” grinned Tad.
-“Neither uh the durned things is loaded. Like our pockets, our guns
-is empty, as the sayin’ goes. Likewise, our bellies. I hope yuh
-feeds yore pris’ners. We ain’t et since day afore yesterday.”
-
-The sheriff gave the pair an odd look, then herded them outside.
-They almost collided with an extremely tall, black-clad man who
-stood on the sidewalk. The man had evidently been taking in the
-scene from outside. His height permitted him to see over the short,
-swinging doors into the saloon.
-
-The long-tailed black coat, white shirt and black string tie gave
-the tall man the appearance of a minister. The man’s face, however,
-belied such a worthy calling. Lean, thin-lipped, unsmiling, it was a
-face without a single redeeming feature. His eyes were small, a pale
-gray in color, set close together on each side of a thin beak of a
-nose.
-
-A wide-brimmed, weather-worn black Stetson covered the head that Tad
-felt sure must be bald. The man’s reddish eyebrows met in a scowl as
-he met the cowpuncher’s frankly curious gaze.
-
-“I bet he’s a cross between a buzzard and a rawhide rope,” said
-Shorty as the sheriff shoved them along.
-
-“One uh these here fire an’ brimstone sky pilots gone wrong, is my
-bet. Which of us wins, Sheriff?” added Tad.
-
-“Neither.” The sheriff’s tone was sharp with annoyance. “You shore
-cooked yore goose with them bright remarks. Yuh’ll git the limit now
-when yore trial comes up. That was Luther Fox.”
-
-“And who,” inquired the punchers in unison, “is Luther Fox?”
-
-“Yuh mean tuh say yuh never heerd tell uh Fox?”
-
-“We’re plumb strangers, mister. Let’s have it. Both barrels.”
-
-“He couldn’t help hearin’ them remarks,” mumbled the sheriff, musing
-aloud. “Hmmm. ——’s tuh pay all around.”
-
-“But you was goin’ to tell us about this Fox,” hinted Tad.
-
-“Was I? I reckon not. I don’t talk to nobody about that gent.”
-
-The sheriff’s tone was decisive.
-
-Tad, glancing covertly at the old sheriff, caught a glimpse of
-tightly clamped jaws. Beneath shaggy white brows, the sheriff’s keen
-eyes smoldered with some inner fire. It was a dogged, sullen look,
-strangely out of keeping with the general make up of the grizzled
-law officer.
-
-“Yuh don’t mean tuh say that ole scarecrow has yuh buffaloed?” put
-in Shorty, wincing as Tad’s spur raked his shin with meaning vigor.
-
-The sheriff turned on Shorty, eyes ablaze with hot resentment.
-
-“Who said I was scared? Whoever told yuh that, lied. Lied, hear me?”
-
-The sheriff fairly trembled with fury. He seemed about to hit Shorty
-with the .45 in his hand.
-
-Tad, poised easily on the balls of his feet, clenched his big fist
-and his practised eye picked the point where the well-placed blow
-would put the sheriff to sleep. There was a look of resignation in
-the big puncher’s eyes.
-
-Then the sheriff, with an effort, regained control of himself and
-turned from Shorty. Tad gave a sigh of relief. Striking an officer,
-even in defense of his partner, was little to his liking.
-
-The trio moved on in silence for some moments. Tad, meeting Shorty’s
-eyes, gave his little partner a ferocious look. Shorty squirmed
-uneasily.
-
-“I’m askin’ yore pardon, Sheriff,” he said meekly. “I was jest
-tryin’ tuh be funny. It was a fool crack to make and I’m plumb
-sorry.”
-
-His tone was sincere. The sheriff nodded his silent acceptance of
-the apology.
-
-“I reckon it’s shore gally uh me tuh be askin’ ary favors, Sheriff,”
-Shorty put in as they halted before the padlocked door of the log
-jail, “but would yuh kinda look after our hosses while me and Tad is
-penned up?”
-
-“Uh course,” agreed the sheriff. “Yore hosses will be took care of.
-Yuh won’t be needin’ ’em where yo’re goin’. Better sell ’em tuh git
-lawyer money.”
-
-“Is it goin’ tuh be that bad?” asked Tad seriously.
-
-“Wuss,” came the cryptic reply, and the two prisoners heard the
-click of the padlock as the sheriff locked them in.
-
-In dejected silence, the two listened to the receding tinkle of the
-sheriff’s spurs.
-
-“Well, my short-complected _amigo_, yuh shore done us proud this
-day,” Tad broke the silence. “You and that hair-trigger temper uh
-yourn kin shore git us into more trouble than ten judges and a herd
-uh law sharps kin git us outa. Yuh mighta put off the show till
-after we’d grazed some. I’m ga’ant as a dogie in the spring
-follerin’ a hard winter.”
-
-“And if I hadn’t took it up when that box-ankled shovel swinger
-insulted us, we’d uh bin run outa town for a coupla uh sheepherders.
-You was doin’ a heap uh yellin’ and so on, fer a gent that hates
-fightin’. It was you that busted that purty, shiny window by
-th’owin’ that drink mixer through it. Yuh mighta slung him out the
-door, jest as easy, but no, yuh had tuh go bustin’ things. That
-glass’ll set us back the price of ten good drunks and a reasonable
-fine. Got ary terbaccer tuh go with this here brown paper, Ox?”
-
-Tad handed over a thin sack with a pinch of tobacco in the bottom.
-
-“Gimme butts on ’er, runt. It’s the tailin’s uh the last sack uh
-what was once a full caddy uh smokin. Fer which yo’re still owin’ me
-for yore half uh the price. Say, what ails that sheriff, I wonder?
-He like tuh busted a ham-string when yuh joshed him about that Fox
-feller. Shorty, there’s somethin’ danged queer about the whole deal.
-Raisin’ a li’l’ ol’ ruckus in yonder saloon ain’t no penitentiary
-offense. The way that ol’ sheriff took on, a man’d thought we’d
-killed a few folks. Is them bars yonder solid?”
-
-“Solid as rocks, Tad. Even if they was loose, we bin on short
-grazin’ so long that we’re too weak to pry ’em loose. If the paint
-hoss hadn’t got drowned crossin’ the Missouri and our beds and grub
-got lost, we’d uh bin to the Wyomin’ line by now.”
-
-“And if you and that overworked temper uh yourn hadn’t broke out and
-run hog wild yesterday, we’d uh got a square meal and a job with
-that outfit we struck at noon.”
-
-“Work fer that spread after that black-muzzled wagon-boss asked me
-was I expectin’ boy’s wages and could I hold down a hoss wrangler’s
-job! I wisht yuh had let me finish workin’ that smart Aleck over,
-Ox. I was jest gettin’ my second wind when yuh drug me off him.”
-
-“Say!”
-
-“Huh?” Shorty, startled by the vehemence of his partner’s
-exclamation, turned from his inspection of the bars across the one
-window. “What bit yuh?”
-
-“I was jest rememberin’ that black-whiskered gent’s talk. Yuh mind,
-Shorty? He says to us that Luther Fox don’t pay out good money to
-undersized gents that can’t do a man’s work.”
-
-“Man’s work! I showed him what a man——”
-
-“Dry up. Fergit it. Yuh don’t foller my meanin’. Luther Fox must own
-that cow outfit that Black Whiskers works for. _Sabe?_”
-
-“Uh-huh. And supposin’ he does? What of it? Go on from there, big
-’un, and let’s see if yore words makes sense.”
-
-“Well, from where I was settin’, that round-up looked like a big
-spread. They was holdin’ a herd that a man couldn’t shoot across.
-Looked like three hundred head uh hosses in their _remuda_. If this
-Fox feller owns that outfit, he’s one danged big cowman, and son, we
-shore set into a hard game if we’ve hurt the ol’ rannyhan’s
-feelin’s. I don’t like the lay uh the land, Shorty; None
-whatsomever.
-
-“If that ol’ wolf sets his mind to it, our hides’ll be hangin’ on
-the fence afore mornin’. Yeah. And if him and his black-muzzled
-wagon boss ever gits tuh makin’ medicine and the black gent ’lows
-we’re the same parties that rode into his camp and raised a ruckus,
-me and you is due tuh stretch some rope.”
-
-“That big bohunk of a quartz wrangler’ll be rearin’ tuh work in the
-lead uh sech a necktie party, too,” was Shorty’s wry comment.
-“What’ll we do, Taddie? Shucks, I hates tuh stay bogged down here
-till they come tuh hang us. I don’t have no —— of a lot uh
-confidence in that ol’ sheriff feller, if it comes to a fight.”
-
-“Yuh might uh done some heavy thinkin’ along them lines afore yuh
-got us into all this, yuh fire-swallerin’ li’l’ ol’ rooster. Now
-gimme butts on that smoke so’s I kin smudge some thoughts outa my
-brain.”
-
-
-
-
-II
-
-
-    “‘Way up high in the Mokiones, among the mountain tops,
-    A lion cleaned a yearlin’s bones and licked his thankful chops;
-    When who upon the scene should ride, a trippin’ down the slope,
-    But High-Chin Bob of sinful pride and maverick-hungry rope.’”
-
-Shorty’s voice, loud and high pitched, filled the small cabin. For
-once, Tad found no fault with his partner’s singing. This, because
-the sound of the singer’s voice drowned out what noise Tad might be
-making as he whittled doggedly at the pine log wherein the iron bars
-of the window were embedded.
-
-Shorty, eyes fixed on the heavy pine door, sang with the air of one
-who does his duty in the face of great obstacles. Without missing a
-note, he gathered in a handful of whittlings and shoved the shavings
-under his hat, which lay on the floor. Then his toe poked Tad’s shin
-with none too gentle contact and the whittling ceased. Shorty,
-resuming his seat on the edge of the bunk, sang on, head tilted
-upward, eyes half closed.
-
-Thus the sheriff found them when he entered, bearing a heavily laden
-tray.
-
-They looked innocent enough, these two. Shorty, reclining on the
-bunk, Tad gazing broodingly out between the rusty bars in an
-attitude of silent dejection.
-
-“Ten o’clock breakfast, Taddie.” Shorty thus broke off his song.
-“Come and git it er I th’ow it away! Gosh a’mighty, Tad, it’s real
-grub! Steak and ’taters and pie! Sheriff, yo’re a plumb white man!”
-
-The sheriff grinned and set the tray on the table. The grin gave the
-old officer an almost benign appearance.
-
-“Have at it cowboys, afore she gits cold. It’s the best I could
-rustle at the Chink’s place. Yuh earned it, both uh yuh. My hat’s
-off tuh ary two gents that kin clean up Alder Gulch on empty bellies
-and with empty guns.”
-
-[Illustration: map]
-
-“Yuh ain’t holdin’ no hard feelin’s?”
-
-“Not me. Joe Kipp ain’t that kind. Personal, it done me good tuh see
-that big miner whupped. That —— bartender had it comin’ too.”
-
-“Gosh!”
-
-Tad swallowed a mouthful of food, washed it down with a swallow of
-coffee and eyed the sheriff in mild surprise.
-
-“’Pears tuh me like you’d had a sudden change uh mind, Sheriff. Yuh
-acted plumb ringy when yuh nabbed us.”
-
-“Folks was watchin’. The bartender had swore out a complaint and
-with Fox a-watchin’, I had tuh go through.”
-
-“Yuh mean this Luther Fox gent is after yore taw? He’s rearin’ tuh
-jump yore frame?”
-
-“Somethin’ like that. Him and me don’t waste no soft-spoke love
-words on one another.”
-
-He paused, scowling at the floor as if worrying out some problem.
-
-“There’s more than a few gents on this range that’ll tell yuh I’m
-scared uh Luther Fox and ‘Black Jack’,” he finished.
-
-“Black Jack?”
-
-“Fox’s wagon boss. Runs the LF spread.”
-
-Tad and Shorty exchanged grins. “Black-whiskered gent? Eyes like a
-Injun?”
-
-Kipp nodded.
-
-“You boys know him?”
-
-“We come by the LF round-up. Yeah, we know him tuh look at.”
-
-“Ain’t yuh the boys from the south?” inquired Kipp. “I see yuh both
-ride double-rigged saddles and yore hosses pack strange brands.”
-
-“We’re from Texas fust, Arizona after barb wire run us outa our home
-range. We come tuh Montana tuh close a deal that was hangin’ fire.
-Wound up our deal and was headin’ fer our home range when we loses
-our life’s gatherin’s in yore Missouri River. Pack hoss, bed, money,
-grub, the hull works goes. Shorty’s paint hoss which we’re packin’
-makes a shore game fight, but ’twan’t no go. The undercurrent
-ketches him and he goes under and don’t come up no more.
-
-“I’d uh gone the same way only fer Shorty. Yuh see, me’n my yaller
-hammer hoss bein’ brung up in a windmill country, we ain’t neither
-of us used tuh water in sech big doses. Mebbeso I got Yaller’s cinch
-too tight er he gits water in his ears er suthin’. Anyways, he goes
-belly-up in the middle uh the crick and fer a spell it looks like
-me’n him’s a-headin’ fast fer the Big Range.
-
-“I’m a thinkin’ along them lines, as the feller says, when Shorty on
-his Skewball pony, bustin’ that water like a side gougin’ steamboat,
-jest nacherally ropes me, takes his winds and yanks me ashore.
-Yaller drifts to a sand bar and wades out while Shorty bails the mud
-and water outa me. Drunk er sober, my Shorty pard ain’t much tuh
-look at, but there’s times when he shows good p’ints.”
-
-“Shucks, Sheriff, don’t pay no mind tuh Tad,” grinned the
-self-concious Shorty. “He shore likes the sound uh his own voice. If
-yuh was tuh th’ow him and mouth him, yuh’d find his front teeth
-plumb wore down. That comes from his havin’ his mouth open fer
-talkin’ so much. The wind, a-blowin’ to and fro across his teeth,
-consequential, has wore ’em down.”
-
-The sheriff was beginning to like these two oddly mated partners
-thoroughly. He moved across the floor to a chair. As he did so, he
-accidentally moved Shorty’s hat, revealing the pile of whittlings.
-Shorty manfully stepped into the breach.
-
-Before the sheriff noticed, the little puncher had grabbed the
-handful of shavings and shoved them into his mouth.
-
-“Now swaller,” whispered Tad in an undertone, as he dropped his
-neckscarf on the sill to cover the freshly whittled notch at the
-base of the steel bar.
-
-Shorty swallowed, choked, gasped and his tanned face grew purple.
-
-Tad, moving swiftly, promptly up-ended Shorty, thumping him on the
-back with an unconcern that hinted of boredom. A wad of mashed
-potatoes, well wadded with shavings, spewed forth and Tad promptly
-kicked the sodden mass under the bunk.
-
-“Will yuh hand me the water pitcher, Sheriff? Thanks. Now irrigate,
-runt.”
-
-He held the pitcher to Shorty’s mouth and poured a generous potion
-down the little puncher’s throat. Then, with a paternal air, he sat
-Shorty on the edge of the bunk and loosened his collar.
-
-“Ain’t I told yuh, time and again, not tuh swaller yore grub whole,
-little ’un? Dang me if I can see how yuh ever growed up without
-chokin’ tuh death.”
-
-Tad turned to the sheriff with an apologetic grin.
-
-“In spite uh all I tell him, that li’l’ varmint will wolf his grub.
-It ain’t the fust time he’s choked down on me thataway. Onct, at a
-ice-cream sociable down on the Gila, a brockle-faced school marm,
-a-ketch-in’ him off his guard with a face full uh cake, ast him was
-his hair nacherally curly afore it slipped and left him bald between
-the horns. I’m out in the kitchen when the play comes up and he like
-tuh perished complete afore I gits there. The fiddler, a-thinkin’
-the li’l’ cuss had th’owed a fit, empties a pailful uh pink lemonade
-on him. I tips him upside down, knocks the hunk uh cake loose from
-where it’s lodged between his buck teeth and his briskit, and the
-show is over. We spends a good half-hour huntin’ the loose change
-which drops outa his pocket durin’ the proceedin’s. I bin thinkin’
-serious uh knockin’ his teeth out so’s he’d have tuh graze on mush
-and sech light truck.”
-
-“Aw, let a man be, Ox,” grinned Shorty, buttering his fourth
-biscuit. “If yuh gotta run off at the head, tell about the time that
-Hash-Knife hoss crow hopped with yuh and yore set uh store teeth
-swapped ends and like tuh bit yore tongue off. Only for the hoss
-a-pilin’ yuh into the sourdough pan, you’d uh gone through life
-without a tongue. Yuh mind, Taddie, how that kettle-paunched ol’
-cook run yuh outa camp fer sp’ilin’ his batch uh bread dough? He’d
-uh whittled yuh down tuh his size and whupped yuh, too, only I
-tripped him up. There’s times when I wisht I’d let that ol’ grub
-sp’iler ketch yuh.”
-
-A shadow passed the window. The grin on Kipp’s face vanished.
-
-“Here comes Fox,” he whispered. “Play yore cards keerful, boys. Yuh
-whupped the best man he has in camp, Shorty. And he’s done heard how
-Tad stood off his gang uh tough men with a empty gun. Down in that
-black heart uh hisn, he respects nerve like yourn. He may put yuh
-some kind of a proposition. Better consider keerful afore yuh turn
-it down.
-
-“He’s got yuh in a tight. He owns that saloon and the busted window.
-Fact is, he owns the camp. Reckon I’d better let him in now. He’s
-poundin’ out yonder fit tuh bust the door down.”
-
-With a faint, uneasy smile, Kipp rose and unbolted the heavy door.
-
-Luther Fox entered with one long stride. His gimlet eyes were fixed
-on the remains of the prisoner’s sumptuous dinner.
-
-“Fancy victuals that you give your prisoners, Kipp,” he spoke in a
-rasping, flat voice. “County payin’ for such grub?” Kipp’s eyes took
-on a chilly look.
-
-“I paid the chink outa my own pocket, Fox.”
-
-Luther Fox’s thin lips twitched at the corners. It may have been
-meant for a smile. Devoid of mirth, it seemed to accentuate the
-cruelty that lurked behind the pale-gray eyes.
-
-“I want that I should be left alone with these two men, Kipp. Clear
-out.”
-
-It was the command of a man who was accustomed to being obeyed.
-
-Tad, watching Kipp closely, saw the sheriff’s mouth tighten so as to
-leave the lips a bloodless, crooked line. For a long moment the
-officer and the cow man held each other’s gaze.
-
-“Fox,” said Kipp, measuring his words with deliberate slowness, “I’m
-sheriff here. This jail is county property. I leave here when I
-get —— ready. If yo’re aimin’ tuh smell powder smoke, go fer yore
-gun.”
-
-Fox’s upper lip lifted, revealing long, crooked, yellow teeth. They
-made the man hideous. His long fingers patted the butt of an
-ivory-handled .45 that swung in a tied holster, low down on his
-thigh.
-
-“Whenever I pull my gun, Kipp, this county will be in line for a new
-sheriff. However, it’s bad luck to kill an officer of the law. Our
-quarrel will keep without spoilin’. I’ll word my wishes differently.
-I’d like a few minutes pow-wow with your prisoners, Sheriff Kipp.
-Will you be so kind as to grant so great a favor?”
-
-His long frame bent at the waistline in a mocking bow. Rumor had it
-that Luther Fox, in his youth, had been a New England schoolmaster.
-Like rust corroding a steel blade, frontier contact had well nigh
-obliterated the polish that belonged to that former life.
-Occasionally it was visible, usually in the form of sarcasm.
-
-Kipp, with a visible effort, fought down the hot rage that surged up
-inside him. He turned on his heel and walked to the door. Without a
-backward glance he closed the door behind him.
-
-              *       *       *       *       *
-
-Inside the jail, Tad and Shorty looked up with curious gaze at Fox
-and waited for him to break the silence that followed Kipp’s
-departure. Fox’s lips were again twitching at the corners.
-Otherwise, his expression did not change.
-
-“Well, what have you two got to say for yourselves?” he asked
-finally.
-
-Long legs far apart, bony fingers twisting in a knot behind his
-back, he glanced coldly at the two punchers.
-
-“It don’t look to me like it was our ante,” Tad grinned easily. “The
-sheriff tells us yo’re holdin’ the joker.”
-
-“Exactly. The way the play stands, I can either make or break you
-two.”
-
-He paused.
-
-“Spread yore cards, mister.”
-
-Tad forestalled the silence that Fox had anticipated, a silence
-during which he had expected to watch these two cow punchers squirm.
-
-A frown of annoyance brought his reddish brows together. He had
-rather expected to find the prisoners afraid and eager to please
-him. Instead, both were grinning as if they enjoyed the situation.
-
-“Very well,” he snapped. “I give you your choice. Either you go to
-the penitentiary or on the LF payroll.”
-
-“Penitentiary?” said Tad slowly. “Since when has it got tuh be a
-penitentiary offense tuh mix in a two-bit saloon fight?”
-
-“Assault with a deadly weapon means a stretch in the big house,”
-smiled Fox. “Crossing Luther Fox, you may find, is even a worse
-crime.”
-
-“Yuh mean you’ll railroad us, eh?” said Tad evenly. He seemed to be
-musing aloud. “Yeah, I reckon yuh could. Me’n my li’l’ pard is
-strangers in a strange land and plumb broke. Yeah, reckon yuh could
-do it, mister. Now supposin’ we take yuh up on the other
-proposition? Jest what kind uh work do yuh aim that me and Shorty
-should do tuh earn our pay? I might as well tell yuh now, Fox, our
-guns ain’t fer hire, if that’s yore game.”
-
-“The job I have in mind for you two is legitimate and within the
-law,” said Fox. “A rancher named Hank Basset owes me money. I hold
-his note for ten thousand dollars which falls due next week. It will
-be your job to ride to his ranch and collect that ten thousand
-dollars, in cash or steers. Since the man is broke, the payment will
-be made by turning over to me five hundred head of steers at twenty
-dollars per head.”
-
-“Mighty cheap cattle,” grunted Shorty. Fox shrugged.
-
-“Mebbeso. That’s beside the question. I am waiting for your answer
-and it ain’t healthy, as a rule, to keep Luther Fox waiting.”
-
-Fox fished a long stogie from his pocket, repaired its broken
-wrapper with a cigaret paper and set fire to it. His little eyes
-surveyed them through the haze of blue smoke. Tad turned to Shorty.
-
-“Supposin’ we leave it to the sheriff to decide fer us, pardner?”
-
-“Suits me, Tad.”
-
-Luther Fox’s eyes became pin-points of glittering gray through the
-smoke haze. His head thrust forward on a skinny neck, he peered at
-the two punchers. A sinister, hate-lined face, unchanging in
-expression. Behind his back, the long, bony fingers intertwined
-until the joints cracked.
-
-“—— old buzzard,” was Shorty’s inward comment.
-
-Without a word, Fox turned and strode to the door. He swung it open
-and shoved his head outside.
-
-“Come in here, Kipp,” he snapped. “You’re wanted.”
-
-Kipp, a stub of cigaret sticking from the corner of his mouth, rose
-from his squatting posture against the log wall of the jail.
-
-“Fox wants me’n Shorty tuh collect a bad debt from a gent named Hank
-Basset,” said Tad, coming to the point. “We ’lowed we’d leave it up
-tuh you.”
-
-Kipp nodded.
-
-“Kinda figgered he might pick you boys fer the job. Take him up on
-it.”
-
-“We’re obliged to yuh, Sheriff,” grinned Tad. “Mister Fox, yuh done
-hired two hands.”
-
-Again the twitching at the corners of Luther Fox’s thin lips.
-
-“Get your guns from Kipp and pull out. I heard your six-shooters
-were empty. You’ll find ammunition a-plenty in your saddle pockets.
-Likewise a Winchester apiece, in your saddle scabbards. Here’s an
-order on Basset for the steers.”
-
-He held out a folded paper. Tad shoved it in his vest pocket. Fox
-turned to the sheriff.
-
-“Kipp, these two men are now on my payroll. The charges against them
-are dropped. Give ’em their guns and let ’em go. They’re wasting LF
-time here and they have a long ride ahead. If you have any message
-for Hank Basset, carry it yourself, understand? My men are paid to
-carry out my orders, not to deliver your messages. I think, Kipp,
-that you savvy what I’m driving at, even if these men don’t.”
-
-“I savvy, Fox,” returned the sheriff evenly, as he handed Tad and
-Shorty their guns. He ushered them outside.
-
-“Boys,” he said, ignoring Fox, “I loaded both yore guns. Five shells
-in each six-gun, leavin’ a empty chamber under the hammers. When yuh
-ride away from Alder Gulch, jest remember this; them is good, honest
-ca’tridges, bought with clean, honest money. So-long and good luck.”
-
-Kipp nodded a brief farewell and reentering the jail, swung the door
-closed behind him.
-
-Tad and Shorty gave each other a puzzled look, then followed the
-scowling Fox toward the livery barn.
-
-In the corral adjoining the barn were their private horses, saddled.
-Also six more horses and a pack mule, the latter bearing a bed
-covered by a new tarpaulin.
-
-“That gives you three mounts apiece beside your privates,” Fox
-explained. “You’ll help Basset gather those steers. Use your own
-judgment about any difficulties that come up, the same as any
-regular ‘rep’ would do. One week from tomorrow, I’ll meet you at the
-lone cottonwood on Rock Creek and receive the cattle. I don’t want
-either of you to forget that you’re drawin’ LF pay, and top wages at
-that. You’ll govern yourselves accordingly.”
-
-“Uh-huh,” grinned Tad. “Top wages, Fox, but not fightin’ wages. Me
-and my pardner is peaceful fellers lessen we gits tromped on. We
-don’t travel none on our shapes ner lead-slingin’ qualities. We
-ain’t wanted no place fer no crime and we don’t figger on leavin’
-this country with a posse follerin’ us. We’ll gather them steers,
-but we won’t fight none tuh hold ’em. I bin punchin’ cows long
-enough tuh know that there’s a nigger in the woodpile somewheres on
-this deal er you’d either gather them steers yorese’f er send some
-uh yore regular hands tuh do the job. We taken the sheriff’s say-so
-about hirin’ out and we’ll see the play through to the last card,
-but we ain’t doin’ no dirty jobs fer no man, mister.”
-
-Tad had swung aboard his horse and sat slouched in the saddle,
-watching Fox.
-
-“Get the cattle and I’ll be satisfied,” replied Fox. “Yonder’s the
-trail. Basset’s home ranch lays at the foot of that hazy peak. You
-should make it by daylight tomorrow. Follow this trail till you come
-to the lone cottonwood, where the trail forks. Take the right hand
-trail.”
-
-Shorty swung open the pole gate and Tad hazed the horses into the
-open.
-
-Legs spread far apart, hands clenched behind his back, Luther Fox
-stood in the dusty trail and watched them out of sight. Once more
-the corners of his cruel mouth twitched oddly. As he watched the
-rapidly fading dust cloud that hid the partners, his eyes glittered
-with a look of cunning.
-
-
-
-
-III
-
-
-“I dunno jest why, Tad,” Shorty broke the silence, “but I shore feel
-sorry fer that Kipp gent. He’s right old tuh be pestered by a skunk
-like Fox. His nerves ain’t so steady as they once was. I seen his
-hand shake when he called Fox’s hand. A man can’t do good shootin’
-when his hand shakes, Tad.”
-
-“He’d a played his string out though, Shorty. Even when he knowed
-Fox ’ud beat him to the draw. Kipp’s game, and I reckon that’s why
-we kinda cottoned to him. Besides, he shore fed us good. I’m
-wonderin’ what he meant by sayin’ he’d put honest ca’tridges in our
-guns? Reckon we’re nosin’ into a range war? Danged if we don’t git
-into more jams than a burglar. Yonder’s the lone cottonwood.”
-
-The sun had just set and the rolling hills were bathed in the
-subdued afterglow. The greasewood flat beyond took on the appearance
-of a dark-green carpet. Distant peaks reflected the last rays of the
-sun. A covey of sage hens whirred from the brush in front of the
-horses, then dropped out of sight. Tad and Shorty pulled up in front
-of the giant cottonwood, eyes fixed on a rudely lettered sign nailed
-to the wide trunk, a sign riddled with bullets.
-
-    Warning to LF men. This here tree is my north boundry. The line
-    runs due west to Squaw Butte. Ary Fox man that crosses that line
-    will be huntin’ trouble and he’ll shore find it. HANK BASSET.
-
-Tad waved a hand toward the sign.
-
-“Yonder’s the reason why me and you are picked fer the steer-gatherin’
-job, runt. I knowed there was a ace hid up Fox’s sleeve. What do yuh
-say, pard? Do we turn back from here er go through with it?”
-
-“We done hired out fer the job, Tad. Let’s play our string out.
-Shucks, I’d hate tuh be bluffed out by ary sign.”
-
-Tad nodded thoughtfully.
-
-“Kipp aimed that we should go through. There’s more to this play
-than a bad debt, and I’m right curious tuh turn the next page. Haze
-that hammer-headed, pack-slippin’ mule on to the trail and we’ll git
-goin’, pardner. I’m rearin’ tuh git a squint at this here Basset
-hombre, providin’ he ain’t linin’ his sights on my briskit.
-Likewise, li’l’ ’un, bear this in mind. Don’t go clawin’ fer no gun
-iffen we gits jumped. Set tight and lemme augur ’em some. We ain’t
-crossin’ this dead-line tuh burn powder. If it comes to the wust and
-there’s no other way outa the tight, we takes our own parts like
-gentlemen. We ain’t huntin’ no trouble and, on the other hand, we
-ain’t stoppin’ no soft-nosed bullets with our carcasses if we kin
-keep from it. And git a tail holt on yore ingrowed temper, _sabe_?
-The fust sign I reads uh you comin’ to a boil and buckin’ yore cover
-off, I knocks yuh between the horns. Hear me, runt?”
-
-“Yeah. I hear yuh. Yo’re bellerin’ fit tuh be heard a mile. I ain’t
-growed deef on this trip. Fer a forty dollar a month cow hand, yuh
-shore kin git shet of a heap uh advice. I’ll remind yuh about it
-when yo’re yellin’ fer me tuh pull this Basset feller off yuh. Git
-along, mule.”
-
-Hours passed and the moon rose. If the future held any fear for
-these two followers of the dim trails, they gave no sign. Shorty
-rode in the lead, picking the trail. Sometimes he sang and as the
-words of the lament drifted back to Tad, the lanky puncher grinned
-his appreciation and hummed an off-key accompaniment. Now and then
-they dozed, heads swaying gently with the movements of their horses.
-Innumerable cigarets were rolled, smoked and the butts pinched out.
-Thus the night wore on and the first streak of dawn found them
-halted before a pole gate.
-
-Beyond the gate, lining the near-by creek, were innumerable tall
-cottonwoods. A thin spiral of smoke lifted from the chimney of a
-hidden cabin. Twenty feet beyond the gate was a buck-brush thicket.
-Not a sound broke the quiet of the morning.
-
-Shorty leaned in his saddle to pluck forth the wooden pin that held
-the gate closed. A moment later he straightened.
-
-“She’s locked with a stay chain and padlock, Tad,” he called softly.
-
-“Reckon we better call out afore we goes further with the game.
-Haloooooo!”
-
-He raised his voice in a wolf-like howl. Followed a moment of
-silence. Then, in an ordinary tone of voice that caused both
-punchers to jump with surprise, a man called from the brush patch:
-
-“Hello yoreself. Jest set where yuh be till we looks yuh over a
-spell. Keep the little ’un covered with the shotgun, Ma.”
-
-“I’ll make a sieve outa him if he makes ary move, Hank. ’Tend to the
-big feller. Know either of ’em?”
-
-“Nope. Light’s too dim yet tuh read the brands on their hosses but
-ain’t that paint hoss the LF hoss we seen in town last week?”
-
-“—— a’mighty, Tad,” groaned Shorty in an uneasy voice. “Start a
-talkin’ afore we’re killed complete.”
-
-“We’re plum peaceful, mister,” called Tad. “That’s a LF hoss and so
-is the others, but hold yore fire. We come here tuh——”
-
-“To finish robbin’ honest folks, eh?” snapped a feminine voice that
-carried the sharp edge of a newly whetted knife. “LF men, eh? Come
-to do the dirty work of that pole cat, Luther Fox! Gun toters, by
-the looks of yuh. You seen the sign on the cottonwood?”
-
-“Yes’m, but we ain’t——”
-
-“Shetup! Quit interruptin’ a lady. Hank, watch that big gent, he’s
-got a mean eye. Dim as the light is, I kin see it. You there, little
-feller, keep them hands where they belongs. There’s eighteen
-buckshot in both these barrels and I’m takin’ a rest across this
-boulder. Come to git them cattle that’s due Fox?”
-
-“Yes’m. But we ain’t cravin’ no trouble ma’am, leastways, not with
-women-folks. Joe Kipp, the sheriff, ’lowed that we should come.”
-
-“Huh!” snorted the hidden lady. “And what under the sun and seven
-stars has that old sage hen got to say about it? If Kipp had the
-gumption of a rabbit, he’d run the hull LF pack outa the country.
-He’s stood by like a lump on a log and seen a pore ol’ couple git
-robbed uh their eye teeth, and never once raised a finger to stop
-it. He don’t dast set foot on the place, he’s that ashamed uh
-hisself fer——”
-
-“Hush, Ma,” cut in the voice of Hank Basset. “Joe done his best by
-us. His hands is tied, drat it, the same as ours is. Now, big
-feller, how come that Joe Kipp ’lowed that you should come here?
-Don’t try no lyin’ er we turns loose these shotguns. Yuh read the
-sign on the cottonwood and me’n ma is within’ our rights when we
-shoots. Git tuh talkin’, dang yuh.”
-
-“Me’n my li’l’ pardner is strangers, Basset, and we ain’t takin’ up
-no man’s fight fer him. Kipp done told us tuh take Fox up on it,
-when Fox give us the offer uh the job. We was in jail at the time
-and the ol’ buzzard was aimin’ tuh cold-deck us into the pen, savvy?
-It was either take this job er go over the road fer a few years. We
-ain’t doin’ dirty work fer no man, mister. We’re cow hands, me and
-Shorty is, not gun-toters. We come here peaceful and we stays
-thataway, lessen we’re crowded bad.
-
-“If I was a gun man, Basset, and was aimin’ tuh th’ow lead in yore
-direction, I’d be doin’ it now. That there bush yo’re a squattin’
-behind ain’t so thick as she might be. I kin see yuh plain. Yuh’d
-orter pick a boulder fer shelter.”
-
-A muffled curse and cracking of twigs came from the brush as Hank
-Basset shifted his position. Tad’s eyes followed the moving brush
-tops. His ruse had worked. He now knew where the cow man crouched.
-Shorty grinned his approval at Tad’s clever lying.
-
-“Good guessin’, Taddie. Now shoo that there settin’ hen of a female
-from her nest and we’ll feel easier,” he whispered. “If it comes to
-the wust, we gotta run. We can’t noways shoot no female women. I
-might try a pot shot at Basset.”
-
-“Hush up, runt.” Then, in a louder tone. “I said my say, Basset. She
-goes as she lays. We ain’t burnin’ no powder here ner elsewhere fer
-Luther Fox. Yo’re the doctor, _sabe_? If we’re messin’ into ary
-range war er such, we’ll go back the way we come, with our guns in
-the scabards, and leave the job tuh them that wants it. From what I
-seen of the LF hands, there’s plenty of ’em that’ll take it. There’s
-our proposition, Basset. Take it er leave it.”
-
-There was a long silence, broken only by whispering between the cow
-man and his wife. Then the answer came from behind the boulder in
-the voice of Ma Basset.
-
-“Shed yore guns and light. As long as we gotta be pestered with LF
-men, it’d as well be you two as them others. Keerful how you handle
-yore hands while yo’re coming through the fence. Keep to the middle
-of the wagon road that leads to the house. Hank and me’ll have yuh
-covered, every step.”
-
-Tad and Shorty exchanged a quick look. Tad nodded briefly.
-
-“Shed the cannon, pard, and we’ll take her up.”
-
-They tossed their guns to the ground, swung from the saddle and
-approached with their hands in the air. The presence of a woman
-caused Shorty to blush confusedly, but Tad seemed to rather enjoy
-the situation. Once through the barbed-wire fence, they kept to the
-road. A bend in the road brought them in view of the buildings.
-
-              *       *       *       *       *
-
-The sun was just rising and both cowpunchers gazed in surprise at
-the scene spread before them. Low walled, log buildings, the sod
-roofs covered with green grass and wild mustard. Well-built horse
-corrals, branding shute and branding pen beyond. A well-irrigated
-alfalfa patch, blooming and ripe for cutting. A small blacksmith
-shop surrounded by mowers, rakes, and two round-up wagons.
-Everything neat and orderly, rare indeed, for a cattle ranch.
-
-The ranch house and adjacent bunk house were whitewashed, and
-climbing the walls were masses of morning glories. Wild rose bushes,
-pink blossoms wet with the early morning dew, lined the gravel walk
-that led to the doors. All around were the tall cottonwoods.
-
-“Gosh!” whispered Shorty, and removed his hat.
-
-Tad followed suit. They halted on the threshold of the open door,
-carefully wiping their feet on the burlap sack mat. Tad sniffed the
-warm air that came from the kitchen.
-
-From the service-berry brush behind the cowpunchers, stepped the
-oddly mated couple with their shotguns.
-
-Hank Basset, shorter by six inches and lighter by some eighty pounds
-than his wife, was clad in faded flannel shirt and freshly
-laundered, neatly patched overalls. Slightly bent over, tanned the
-color of an old saddle, a bald patch showing in the center of his
-silvery hair, he was anything but warlike in appearance. His mild
-blue eyes twinkled with humor, but there was a look about his
-straight mouth and square chin that told of hidden determination and
-a fearless spirit if he were roused.
-
-Ma Basset, red of cheek, her well-combed, abundance of gray hair
-glistening in the morning sun, was as neat as her rose bushes, and
-as fresh looking, in her red-and-white checked gingham. Despite the
-scowl that furrowed her wide brow, there was everything in her
-make-up to denote a generous, mothering personality. A bit stout, to
-be sure, but her step was firm and alert and her bare arms were more
-muscular than fat. A woman of the pioneer stock, ranch born and
-raised. As much at home in the saddle as in her immaculate kitchen,
-a fair example of the cattle man’s wife whose courage and sacrifice
-has played so important a role in the building of the West. Even as
-her mother before her had fought Indians, so now, did Ma Basset
-wield her sawed-off shotgun in defense of her home.
-
-Suddenly Tad sprang forward into the open door of the kitchen.
-
-“Coffee’s b’ilin’ over!” he bellowed over his shoulder.
-
-Shorty, left on the threshold, shoved his aching arms higher in the
-air and gazed with agonized eyes into the twin barrels of Ma
-Basset’s raised shotgun.
-
-Tad now appeared in the doorway, holding aloft the steaming coffee
-pot as proof of his good intentions.
-
-“—— a’mighty, yuh big lummox,” groaned Shorty. “Yuh like tuh got me
-killed.”
-
-There was that in the appearance of the two partners to cause even
-the stoniest hearted to smile. Shorty, his swollen eye a sickly
-green, tanned face perspiring and red from suppressed emotion and
-embarrassment, gazing beseechingly at his partner. Tad, his homely,
-rough-hewn features wreathed in an infectious grin, holding aloft
-the huge granite-ware coffee pot.
-
-“Shucks, Hank,” muttered Ma Basset in an undertone of relief, “them
-two boys ain’t no badmen. Why that pore little feller is nigh scared
-tuh death. Don’t suppose he ever hurt a livin’ thing in his hull
-life. My gracious but that big ’un did give me a start when he tore
-into the house thataway. I was sure certain he was aimin’ to make a
-fight of it. Lawzee!”
-
-The elderly couple did not relax their vigilance, however, until
-breakfast was well on its way.
-
-Tad, with his unaffected, loquacious manner, did much to quell
-suspicion. He insisted on putting on an apron and helping with the
-breakfast, all the while keeping up an aimless chatter with the lady
-of the house. More than often he had her chuckling gaily.
-
-Shorty, in the front room with Hank, told a straightforward story of
-their sojourn in Alder Gulch.
-
-“Yuh mean that you whupped that big miner by yoreself? Why, Fox
-claims that big hunkie is a ex-prize fighter!”
-
-Shorty shrugged.
-
-“I dunno about that, mister. If he’s a pug, he’s a pore ’un. You’d
-uh died laffin’ tuh see Tad a-holdin’ off that gang with a empty
-gun.”
-
-“And you boys ain’t fightin’ fer Luther Fox?”
-
-“Mister,” said Shorty solemnly, “when me and Tad draws our shootin’
-irons, we does it because somebody’s crowdin’ us er our friends,
-bad. We’re aimin’ tuh go back tuh Arizony some day and we got
-friends down there that we want tuh look square in the eyes,
-_sabe_?”
-
-“Breakfast is about ready,” called Ma Basset from the doorway.
-
-Hank and Shorty got to their feet.
-
-“Ma’am,” said Shorty, flushing hotly, “our hosses is outside the
-fence yonder. My grub ’ud plumb choke me if I was tuh set down to
-the table afore I’d took care uh my Skewball hoss. Tad, I reckon,
-feels the same about his Yaller Hammer hoss. He’d ’a’ said so
-hisse’f only he’s a-tormentin’ me by makin’ me axe yuh, kin we be
-excused while we ’tends to ’em. The big walloper pesters me
-continual when there’s women folks around.”
-
-Shorty was the color of an Indian blanket by now. Tad, grinning
-widely, winked at Hank.
-
-“Tush, son,” smiled Ma Basset. “Now don’t you pay no attention to
-him. He’d orter be ashamed uh hisself, tormentin’ a boy half his
-size. You boys hurry on now and tend to yore ponies. The key to the
-gate hangs on a nail on the gate post. Unsaddle and turn yore hosses
-into the pasture. There’s blue-joint grass and water a-plenty there.
-I’ll put the biscuits and eggs in the warmin’ oven. Hurry, now.”
-
-Five minutes later there came the sound of splashing water. Ma
-Basset, looking out the kitchen window, nodded her approval.
-
-“They’re washin’-up at the bunkhouse, Hank,” she whispered. “Those
-boys has had raisin’.”
-
-“When a man sets down to his grub afore he’s took care uh his hoss,
-watch out fer him,” added Hank. “I was a-waitin’ tuh see if they was
-goin’ tuh let their animals wait. It don’t take no smart gent tuh
-see that they’re as different from the other LF riders as a
-gentleman is different from a sheep herder. I bin thinkin’, Ma,
-mebbe so them two boys kin help us. They’re kinda like home folks,
-sorter.”
-
-“Help us?”
-
-Ma Basset shoved a second pan of biscuits in the oven and closed the
-door thoughtfully. Then she straightened.
-
-“Help us, Hank? I’m afeered not. The cattle’s gone, that’s all.
-They’re good boys, like as not, but they can’t make a herd uh cattle
-outa a handful uh sore-footed cows and wind-bellied calves. No,
-we’re beat and beat bad. But we ain’t hollerin’, neither of us. If
-only our Pete boy was back home, I’d feel as chipper as a meadow
-lark. But the thought uh him cooped up in a prison cell, kinda takes
-the warm feelin’ outa the sunshine, somehow.”
-
-Tears glistened in her eyes. She seated herself on a chair and
-dabbed at the tears with the corner of her apron. Hank crossed over
-to her and put an arm about her shoulders.
-
-Tad and Shorty had removed their spurs at the bunkhouse. They made
-but little noise as they came to the door and halted to wipe the
-dust from their boots. They could not help but see what went on
-inside the kitchen. Embarrassed, they looked at each other in
-silence.
-
-“Our Pete sent over the road by that low-down LF spread, our cattle
-run off and a ten-thousand-dollar note due next week,” came the
-voice of Hank Basset whose back was toward the cowpunchers. “It’s
-hard lines fer folks as old as us, Ma. But we ain’t licked yet. I
-kin still hold down a job punchin’ cows.”
-
-“And I kin beat ary round-up cook that ever burned a batch uh beans
-er turned a mess wagon over,” added Ma Basset bravely. “Yuh mind
-that fall when I cooked fer the outfit, Hank, and drove two broncs
-fer wheelers? I can do it again, too.”
-
-Tad, a vise-like grip on his partner’s arm, backed quietly away from
-the door. On tiptoe they retreated to the bunkhouse. Then, with
-careless step and a whistle coming discordantly from Tad’s pursed
-lips, they again approached the kitchen.
-
-Ma Basset’s eyes showed faint signs of redness and Hank seemed
-somewhat ill at ease. He led them back into the front room.
-
-“Biscuits ain’t quite done,” he explained, waving the two punchers
-to chairs.
-
-He moved stealthily to a cupboard and reached a hand in behind the
-curtain. It came forth holding a brown bottle.
-
-“Ma keeps it fer snake bite,” he whispered. “Have a nip?”
-
-But before he could hand the bottle to the expectant Shorty, an
-approaching step sounded from the kitchen. Hank deftly slid the
-bottle back behind the curtain, a second before his wife appeared in
-the doorway.
-
-In Ma Basset’s hand was a piece of raw beefsteak and a strip of
-cloth.
-
-“Fer your eye,” she told Shorty, and forthwith tied the piece of
-meat over the swollen and discolored member.
-
-“Your pardner was a-tellin’ me how you fell off your hoss and bunged
-that eye up,” she smiled, standing aside to survey the bandage
-critically.
-
-“Hoss th’owed me?” returned Shorty dazedly. “Shucks, I——”
-
-“Nothin’ to be ashamed of,” she replied. “There ain’t a bronc rider
-livin’ that ain’t got it some time er another.”
-
-“Never was a rider that never got th’owed,” chanted Tad, trying in
-vain to catch his partner’s eye. “Never was a bronc that never got
-rode,” he finished the rime.
-
-But Shorty did not see. Hank was shifting uneasily in his
-rawhide-bottomed chair. He too, seemed to be trying to convey a
-silent message of some sort to Shorty.
-
-“But, ma’am, I——”
-
-“Ma, ain’t them biscuits a burnin’?” Hank was sniffing the air like
-a hound scenting a fox. Ma, her thoughts diverted to the bread, made
-her way hastily to the kitchen.
-
-Hank’s hand darted to the cupboard and the bottle of whisky came
-forth once more. This time it went the rounds. Hank replaced the
-cork and the bottle vanished behind the curtain.
-
-“Now, Ox,” growled Shorty. “How come yuh lied about this here eye?”
-
-“Miz Basset ’lowed that them as mixed up in saloon fights was mighty
-low-down sorter humans, _sabe_? Tuh keep yuh from bein’ disgraced, I
-lied a mite about that black eye that miner hung on yuh.”
-
-“Ma is plumb sot ag’in’ fightin’,” added Hank. “I aimed tuh wise yuh
-up, but it kinda slipped my mind. Onct, when I gits tangled up in a
-nice quiet scrap and shows up with a swole-up jaw, Ma kinda
-quarantined me off and I et, slept and subsisted, as the sayin’
-goes, in the blacksmith shop. One uh the boys toted my grub to me.
-Doggone, she was on the prod. She don’t paw the earth ner beller
-loud ner bend no rollin’ pins across a man’s withers. No, sir. She
-jest swells up like a buck Injun, gits proud and haughty and kinda
-looks a feller over like he was lower than a sheep herder.”
-
-Shorty was not cheered by this bit of news. Ma Basset summoned them
-to breakfast at this juncture and the little puncher inwardly
-writhed with the burden of a guilty conscience. Pangs of hunger
-conquered, however, and he ate as heartily as Tad.
-
-
-
-
-IV
-
-
-“I ain’t noways aimin’ tuh be hollerin’,” explained old Hank,
-spraying a sage bush with tobacco juice. “I jest want that you boys
-should know what kind of a skunk yo’re workin’ fer and how he’s
-throwed the hooks to me.”
-
-Tad and Shorty, riding on either side of the cattle-man, nodded.
-
-“Two years ago, come July fourth, my son, Pete, gits into a jam over
-a hoss that Black Jack is abusin’ on the street in Alder Gulch.
-Black Jack pulls a gun. He’s tanked up on Injun whisky and onery
-as ——, _sabe_? He hates the Pete boy anyhow, and comes a rearin’
-when Pete tells him tuh quit beatin’ the hoss over the head.
-
-“His bullet ketches Pete in the thigh and Pete limbers up his
-six-gun as he’s a fallin’. Black Jack goes down with a .45 slug in
-his gun arm and the fight is over.
-
-“But the Black Jack gent and Luther Fox is playin’ of a deep game
-and they sets out tuh bust us. They has Pete throwed in jail and
-tried fer attempt tuh murder. They’s a dozen LF pole cats that
-swears on the witness stand that Pete starts the fight and shoots
-fust. Pete, not havin’ ary witness, is railroaded.
-
-“Trials is expensive, boys. Pete’s law sharp bleeds me fer all I kin
-scrape up. The price uh cattle is lower’n a rattler’s belly and I’m
-bad crowded tuh git the coin. I borrys ten thousand dollars from the
-bank and gives my note, never thinkin’ they’d sell the note tuh
-Luther Fox. I ain’t wise tuh them throat-cuttin’ tricks that’s
-called good business by some.
-
-“That fall finds me busted and in debt. I’m doin’ business with
-Fox’s bank, buyin’ grub from Fox’s store and the pore specimens uh
-cowpunchers that’s workin’ fer me is drawin’ double wages from Fox
-and stealin’ me blind. Up till then, Pete has bin runnin’ the
-round-up and takin’ care uh that end. He’s made me and Ma take it
-easy like, sendin’ us to Californy and Florida fer the winters and a
-babyin’ us scan’lous thataway. Now we’re throwed up ag’in’ it onct
-more and we pitches in tuh do our dangdest.
-
-“The day Pete is sentenced to twenty-five years at Deer Lodge, Ma
-takes the train fer Helena tuh see the governor and I comes back and
-starts the fall round-up with as sorry a crew as ever rode a good
-hoss tuh death. My range covers the country between the lone
-cottonwood and the Missouri River. Some eighty thousand acres and
-she’s supposed tuh be fair stocked. Gents, it sounds scary when I
-tell it, and yuh kin believe it er not, but we works that range and
-we don’t gather five hundred head uh steers. Somebody’s beat us to
-it, understand, and I’m cleaned out complete!
-
-“I ships the five hundred head which don’t bring no kind of a price,
-pays off these hoss killers, and gits Joe Kipp tuh help me home with
-the _remuda_ uh sore-backed hosses. Then me and Joe starts in fer tuh
-hunt them stolen cattle.
-
-“There’s old sign a plenty and when we cuts the main trail, we splits
-up and follers it into the bad lands. There’s mebbe so a stretch uh
-rough, timbered brakes fer fifteen-twenty miles betwixt the open
-prairie and the river. Timbered some and stood on end fer the most
-part. I follers a trail along a timbered ridge while Joe takes the
-main trail which seems tuh twist eastward towards the LF range.
-
-“I’ve rode mebbe so eight-ten miles when my hat gits knocked off and
-I hears the pop of a 30-30. Some gent has drilled my hat. Over
-behind some boulders is a puff of white smoke. The range is upwards uh
-five hundred yards. I picks up my hat, unlimbers ole “meat-in-the-pot”
-and heads fer Mister Bushwhacker.
-
-“_Ping!_ Off goes my hat onct more and this time the shot comes from
-the other side, a good four hundred yards away.
-
-Whoever is doin’ that shootin’ is —— good shots. Thinkin’ along them
-lines, and wonderin’ where the next bullet will hit, I jabs home the
-spurs and goes a shootin’ towards Mister Polecat behind the
-boulders.
-
-“_Wham!_ A Winchester barks and my hoss piles up, shot between the
-eyes. I takes my stand behind his carcass and throws some lead in
-the direction uh the brush patch where I sees the white smoke fadin’
-away. When my gun is empty, I commences shovin’ fresh shells in the
-magazine. Then —— busts loose. Seems like a army is bombardin’ me.
-But every danged bullet is goin’ about a foot high. Sudden like, the
-shootin’ quits.
-
-“Got a plenty?” calls a stranger voice. “We bin foolin’ up to now.
-The next shootin’ we does will be the real article. Git on yore
-laigs and hit fer home.”
-
-“I feels the wind of a steel-jacket bullet as she misses my nose by
-about a inch. Mad? I was b’ilin’, gents. Only fer leavin Ma a
-widder, I’d uh stayed till they got me. But het up as I was, I sees
-how plumb useless it is tuh make a fight, so I drags it.
-
-“At the edge uh the bad lands, where we’d split up, I finds Joe
-Kipp. He’s kinda white and shaky like, and he’s afoot, the same as
-me. The drawed look around his mouth and the way his eyes looks at
-me, makes me feel plumb sorry fer him. He’s takin’ it wuss than I
-am.
-
-“‘They shot yor hoss and made a danged target outa yuh, Joe?’ I
-asks, not knowin’ how else tuh ease his feelin’s.
-
-“‘Hank,’ says he, solemn like and earnest as ——, ‘I wish tuh —— they’d
-uh killed me, instead uh wingin’ me, like they did.’
-
-“And he shows me his gun arm, busted between the shoulder and elbow
-by a soft-nosed bullet. I ties up the arm the best I kin and we
-commences that thirty-mile walk home. Ol’ Joe never whimpered onct
-durin’ that night’s walk, though I knowed he was sufferin’ bad. Ner
-did he do ary talkin’. Up till then he’d bin right hopeful about
-gittin’ them stolen cattle back. But bein’ set afoot and sech musta
-drug it outa him bad, fer he ain’t never bin the same man since.
-
-“There’s them that claims he’s scared uh Fox, and sometimes it shore
-looks like they done read the sign right. Me, I don’t know. Seems
-like, if he was scared uh Fox, that he’d throw up his tail and quit.
-But he still holds the job down. Some day, I look fer him tuh kill
-Fox er git killed a-tryin’.”
-
-“Didn’t yuh never make no more fight tuh find them cattle?” asked
-Tad after some silence.
-
-“Kipp done went down into the hills two-three times. Each time he
-went there, he come back afoot, lookin’ like he’d seen a ghost. And
-somewhere in his hide ’ud be a bullet hole. Not bad, jest a kinda
-souvenir uh the occasion, as the feller says.
-
-“Onct, I gathers me a posse uh cow-men from around the county and we
-slips into the brakes after night. Injuns couldn’t uh done it more
-quiet. We’d gone mebbe so five-six miles and was goin’ single file
-down a steep trail that led into a canyon. Sudden like, fifty feet
-ahead uh my hoss—I’m in the lead, _sabe_?—a match sputters. Before I
-kin unlimber my cannon, a heap uh brush blazes up. There we are,
-square in the light uh the blaze, the trail too narrer tuh turn
-around, with a dead drop uh two hundred feet on one side and a shale
-cliff on the other. On the trail behind us, afore we gits our senses
-good, another brush pile busts into flame.”
-
-“‘Do you idjits turn back from here er does we start a shootin’?’
-bellers a gent from the dark up above.
-
-“It don’t take no more’n a half-witted sheep herder tuh decide which
-to do. We tells this gent that we’re turnin’ back.
-
-“‘Fifty feet down the trail,’ says he, ‘the trail widens. When the
-front fire goes out, ride over it to that place and turn. Ary man
-that passes that wide point, gits a free ticket tuh ——. Us boys is
-holed up here fer a spell and we ain’t cravin’ no visitors. The next
-man that rides into these brakes, don’t see his happy home no
-more.’”
-
-“That ended it, eh?” inquired Tad.
-
-Hank nodded.
-
-“I ain’t never bin back there. What’s the use? They got the bulge in
-that country. They kin set on a pinnacle and see every rider between
-the brakes and my place, if they got ary fieldglasses, which they
-likely has. The only way tuh git into the hills is along them trails
-and every danged trail is watched. Them cattle is like so many flies
-in a bottle and Fox’s hand over the mouth tuh keep ’em in. The same
-crew uh gun fighters that keeps folks from goin’ into the hills,
-keeps the cattle from driftin’ out.”
-
-“Hmm,” mused Tad aloud. “Regular hole-in-the wall proposition, ain’t
-it? Yeah. How many trails leadin’ into that section, Hank?”
-
-“Two,” came the prompt reply. ‘It’s a kinda pocket, widening out
-beyond where the brakes meets the bottom lands.”
-
-“Trails along the river bottoms, ain’t there?”
-
-“Nary trail ’ceptin’ late in the fall when the water’s low. It’s
-what they call the Narrows. Except fer where trails has bin cut out,
-a man can’t water his saddle hoss along the riverbank fer ten miles.
-Thirty and forty foot banks, _sabe_? And at each end uh the ten-mile
-stretch is a gorge cut out by spring rains and the cricks, which is
-so full uh quicksand that they’d bog a jacksnipe. A danged pocket, I
-tell yuh, a danged, gyp-water, soap-hole, shale-banked pocket. And
-they’s feed in them cañons tuh winter half the cattle in Montana.”
-
-“Uh-huh. Yet, some way er another, Hank, it don’t sound noways
-reasonable that a man can’t git in there. Supposin’ that a man was
-tuh cross the river, say at one uh the ferries, ride back on the
-opposite bank till he come opposite them Narrers, then swim across
-to where one uh them trails is cut in the bank?”
-
-Hank laughed mirthlessly. “Can’t be done, pardner. My boy Pete is
-the only human that ever done it and he crossed when the river was
-down. Now, at high water, the —— hisself couldn’t make it.”
-
-“Yore Pete done it?” put in Shorty, silent up till now.
-
-Hank smiled reminiscently.
-
-“Pete knowed the river better’n ary human alive. As a kid, he used
-tuh kinda look after the hosses durin’ the summer. He’d go into the
-pocket with a pack outfit and stay there till time fer the fall
-round-up. Long afore I even knowed he could swim, that kid was
-bustin’ that river wide open, jest fer the fun of it. He like tuh
-drowned a dozen hosses, learnin’ ’em the channel. I never knowed
-nobody else that ever swum the Missouri at the Narrows.”
-
-“Got ary uh them water hosses at the ranch, Hank?” Shorty’s eyes
-were dancing excitedly.
-
-“Shore thing, but even if you was fool enough tuh tackle it, Shorty,
-the river’s up and boomin’ now and the current swifter’n a
-blue-racer snake. I wouldn’t let yuh tackle it, boy. ——’s bells,
-what ’ud yuh do if yuh did git across?”
-
-“Now there’s where yuh got me guessin’,” grinned the little puncher,
-but that dancing light still flickered in his eyes as they rode on.
-
-“If yo’re figgerin’ on playin’ fish, runt, fergit it,” grunted Tad
-as he licked the paper of a cigaret.
-
-They rode on in silence for some time, heading back toward the
-Basset ranch.
-
-“Hank,” Tad broke a lengthy silence, “Did Kipp ever try tuh git help
-from the Stock Association on this deal?”
-
-“If he did, he never said so ner nothin’ ever come of it. Why?”
-
-“I was jest a-askin’, that’s all,” came the evasive reply. “Jest
-tryin’ tuh git a squint at the lay from all sides. How long have yuh
-knowed Kipp?”
-
-“Ever since he come to the country. Lemme see. About eighteen years,
-near as I kin figger.”
-
-“Where’d he come from?”
-
-“Don’t know as Joe ever said, and I never asked him. Look here, if
-yo’re figgerin’ that Joe Kipp is mixed up with Fox and ain’t square,
-yo’re plumb wrong. Joe’s honest, bank on that. I’d bet my last steer
-on it.”
-
-“Mebbe so yuh done bet ’em already, and lost ’em,” laughed Tad.
-
-Hank smiled bitterly.
-
-“I reckon not, Ladd. Does ol’ Joe look like a crook er a cow thief
-tuh you?”
-
-“No, Hank. If ever a man had honest eyes, it’s Kipp. A right nice
-ol’ feller from what me’n Shorty seen uh him. How long has this Fox
-pole cat bin clutterin’ up the range around here?”
-
-“Three years. He leased and bought all the range he could git holt
-of and throwed in some dogie stuff from the south. Black Jack come
-with the cattle. He’s bin after my range ever since he come to these
-parts, but he never offered nowhere near a fair price. He told me,
-last time he made me a offer, that it was his top price and if I
-didn’t take it, he’d bust me. It looks like he’s shore doin’ it,
-too. Him and that black-whiskered Injun.”
-
-“Is Black Jack a Injun?” asked Tad. “Half-breed, so they claim.
-Apache, I reckon, by his looks. It wouldn’t surprise me none if he’s
-a outlaw. If he wasn’t scared uh bein’ recognized, why does he wear
-them whiskers? I asked Joe but he ’lowed a man couldn’t arrest a man
-and shave him without havin’ danged good reason, and I reckon he’s
-right.”
-
-They rode on, each of the three busy with his own thoughts. Ma
-Basset was waiting for them at the corral. Beside her stood Joe
-Kipp. Both seemed unusually excited. Ma Basset’s eyes showed signs
-of weeping.
-
-“God help us and him, Hank!” she cried out as Hank dismounted,
-“Pete’s escaped the pen!”
-
-“Have they caught him yet?” asked Hank, his lips white with fear.
-
-“He got clean away, Hank,” said Kipp. “I rode over tuh tell yuh.”
-
-
-
-
-V
-
-
-If ever a man looked worried, it was Joe Kipp. Every feature of his
-tanned face was drawn and haggard. His eyes were bloodshot and
-seared with some tortuous pain. His hands shook so that he spilled
-the tobacco he was pouring into a brown paper.
-
-“Pete was a sorter trusty at Deer Lodge,” he went on to explain. “He
-waited till the chance come, then made a clean getaway. He was gone
-two hours afore they found it out. I got orders tuh watch out fer
-him, Hank. Yuh see, they figger he’ll be showin’ up around these
-parts.”
-
-“Look here, Joe Kipp,” said Ma Basset firmly, her eyes still wet, “I
-don’t intend to sit by with my hands in my lap while you or any
-other man is gunnin’ fer my Pete. Yo’re a law officer and there’s no
-way to keep yuh from hangin’ around here, but I’m givin’ yuh warnin’
-here and now that no man kin take Pete while I kin hold a gun.”
-
-She turned to her husband.
-
-“Hank, I’m glad the boy’s loose and a breathin’ good clean air
-again. He ain’t goin’ back if I kin help it. Are you standin’ by
-yore wife and son er do you line up on the side uh the law that
-sends innocent boys tuh prison? Are yuh——”
-
-“Hush, Ma, yo’re excited,” interrupted Hank. “Uh course, I’m stayin’
-by Pete, right er wrong. But there’s no need tuh——”
-
-Ma Basset sent him a withering glance and whirled on the
-uncomfortable sheriff.
-
-“If you was as eager tuh git back them stolen cattle as yuh are tuh
-shoot our Pete boy, we’d not be facin’ poverty in our old age. It’s
-a wonder tuh me that you got the nerve tuh show yore face on this
-ranch, Joe Kipp.”
-
-The sheriff winced as if struck. Shoulders sagging, eyes fixed on
-the ground, he made no reply. Tad and Shorty, unwilling spectators,
-were heartily wishing themselves elsewhere.
-
-A mother cat will face a dog fifty times her size in defense of her
-young. Face him without fear. Men call it mother instinct and there
-is in this life no more courageous, more self-sacrificing, nor more
-beautiful trait. Not a man there but respected Ma Basset for the
-stand she took, Joe Kipp included.
-
-“Ma’am,” he said, his eyes still fixed on the ground, “I don’t
-reckon I blame yuh none fer the way yuh feel. But yo’re plumb wrong
-about me gunnin’ fer Pete Basset. No matter how the play comes up. I
-ain’t drawin’ no gun on him if I should cut his trail. If I was as
-onery as you figger I am, I’d uh kept my mouth shet and laid low
-till Pete showed up. My idee in ridin’ over was tuh kinda let yuh
-know it in time tuh warn him. In doin’ that I’m violatin’ my oath uh
-office.”
-
-Kipp turned abruptly and swung into his saddle. Before Hank Basset
-or his wife could say a word, he had ridden through the pole gate
-and was lost to sight in the trees.
-
-“I’d orter have my tongue cut out,” said Ma Basset contritely.
-“Talkin’ to the pore ol’ feller thataway when he was doin’ us a good
-turn. Hank, git on yore hoss and ketch him. Tell him I was jest a
-fool woman talkin’ a lot uh fool nonsense.”
-
-Hank shook his head.
-
-“I reckon ol’ Joe savvys, Ma. He ain’t holdin’ no grudge. Supposin’
-we tackles some grub? It’s past sundown and we kin talk this thing
-over better after we’ve took on a bait uh beef and beans.”
-
-He jerked the saddle off his horse and followed his wife to the
-house.
-
-“Holler when supper’s ready, Hank,” Tad told him. “Me’n Shorty wants
-tuh tack a shoe on one of our hosses.”
-
-Hank nodded appreciatively. He knew that there was no horse to shoe
-and he thanked Tad with a look for the kindly lie that gave him and
-his wife a chance to discuss in private the escape of their son.
-
-When Hank had gone in the house, Tad turned serious eyes on his
-partner.
-
-“Shorty, I got a hunch that Joe Kipp’s a worryin’ over somethin’
-besides this Pete gent. He’s sick inside as if he was gut shot and I
-aim tuh find out what’s eatin’ on him. Yuh seen how he flinched when
-Miz Basset lit on him?”
-
-“Yuh don’t think the ol’ feller’s playin’ a double game do yuh,
-Tad?” Shorty’s voice dropped to a whisper.
-
-“I hate tuh be thinkin’ he’s that ornary, but dang me if there ain’t
-some things about this deal that has me guessin’. I’m goin’ tuh
-foller Kipp and see what comes uh it. Tell Hank and Miz Basset some
-durned lie er another about why I rode off. Look fer me when yuh see
-me ride through yonder gate, _sabe_? This may be a hour’s job, er on
-the other hand, mebbe so it’ll take a week.”
-
-“Why can’t we both go?”
-
-“Because, my well-meanin’ but plumb onsenseless _amigo_, it’s a one
-man job, this trailin’ business. Stick around here, keep yore eyes
-peeled, and if the Pete boy shows up, tell him not tuh quit the
-flats till I show up and kin make a medicine talk with him. This
-deal has my curious bump a-itchin’ and we’ll see ’er through, no?”
-
-“I’d tell a man. Taddie, ol’ war hoss, I’m rearin’ tuh tackle that
-river from yon side and——”
-
-“Of all the plumb dehorned, knee-sprung, narrer-foreheaded idiots
-that ever dealt his pardner misery, yo’re the wust! We ain’t here
-tuh do no fightin’, dang it. And I don’t want tuh put in the rest uh
-the summer hangin’ around them sand bars waitin’ fer yore fool
-carcass tuh come floatin’ along. Haze that fool idee plumb outa yore
-system and start all over on some plan that listens sensible.
-
-“A man ’ud think yuh had more lives than a tom cat. Fork yore
-geldin’ and come down the pasture with me while I ketches me my
-Yaller Hammer pony. And git this here idee circulatin’ through yore
-system, son: We’re peaceful cow hands, me and you. This ain’t our
-scrap that’s goin’ on and the best we’ll git is the sharp end uh the
-prod-pole if we cuts in heavy.
-
-“Leave the thinkin’ parts tuh yore pardner. If I hollers fer he’p,
-come a runnin’ but not lessen I hollers. We want tuh be all in one
-piece and enjoyin’ health and prosperity, as the sayin’ goes, when
-we presses our ponies fer Arizony this fall. Keep yore tongue
-between yore jaws and yore gun in the scabbard and we stand a fair
-tuh middlin’ show uh makin’ our home range, come Christmas. Go
-rearin’ and fightin’ yore head and like as not we’ll winter in a two
-by four hoosegow somewheres in Montana.”
-
-Ten minutes later, Shorty watched his partner ride his fresh horse
-out the pole gate and along the trail Kipp had taken. A wide grin
-spread across the little cow puncher’s weather-tanned face.
-
-“Yuh long-legged preacher,” he muttered good humoredly. “Yo’re
-plumb —— on givin’ forth wise words, ain’t yuh? Yuh give more danged
-advice than a Jersey cow gives milk. Then yuh rides away tuh hog all
-the fun whilst I hangs around the kitchen door like a dad-gummed
-blowfly and whittles sticks till yuh chooses tuh come back. Now I
-gotta go in there and lie tuh cover yore trail, dang yuh. We’ll see
-about swimmin’ that river, big ’un.”
-
-“Grub pile!” called Hank from the kitchen door, thus putting an end
-to Shorty’s muttered tirade against the tyranny of his big partner.
-
-A wicked look gleamed in his eyes as he made his way to the cabin.
-
-“Where’s yore partner?” asked Ma Basset.
-
-“Gone,” said Shorty, shaking his head sadly.
-
-“Gone? Gone where?”
-
-“Tuh town, I reckon, ma’am. I done the best I could tuh stop him but
-’twan’t no use. Yuh see, Miz Basset, he’s one uh these here habitual
-drunks. Goes fer months without tetchin’ a drop. Then, sudden like,
-he jest busts out. He’ll swim rivers, climb pinnacles, go afoot if
-he has tuh, till he locates licker. Then he bogs down till he’s
-soaked up enough tuh kill ary ten men, forks his hoss and comes
-back. And the queer part of it is, he looks cold sober all the time.
-I bet a new hat yuh won’t be able tuh tell he’s had a drink when he
-gits back.”
-
-“Land sakes! The pore, diseased critter. Who’d uh thunk he was
-inflicted thataway, Hank? I hope he gits home safe.”
-
-Hank gave Shorty a suspicious look and when Ma Basset’s broad back
-was turned, the little puncher winked broadly. Hank chuckled.
-
-“Hank Basset!” Ma whirled at the sound. “Shame on yuh. Makin’ fun uh
-that pore, diseased boy. If that ain’t like a man. Cow punchers is
-the most cold-hearted humans livin’, I do believe.”
-
-“Yes’m,” agreed Hank. “Shorty, if yuh’d crave the use of a brush and
-comb, I’ll herd yuh to it.”
-
-He led the way into the living room and to the bed room beyond. As
-he passed the cupboard, his hand slipped behind the curtain and when
-the two gained the bed room, Hank uncorked the bottle of snake bite
-cure.
-
-“Happy days, Hank.”
-
-“Drink hearty, Shorty,” came the reply, soft whispered, barely
-audible above the ensuing gurgling noise.
-
-
-
-
-VI
-
-
-With Shorty left behind to excuse his partner’s absence at supper,
-Tad, despite gnawing pangs of hunger, made no complaint.
-
-In the graying dusk of twilight, he rode slowly along the dusty
-trail, a solitary, graceful figure as he sat his horse with a
-careless ease, a cigaret drooping from the corner of his straight
-lips. Not a trace of weariness was perceptible, in spite of the fact
-that he had been in the saddle since dawn. He had the appearance of
-some cowpuncher bent on a careless mission and time was a minor
-factor. Yet his keen eyes constantly swept the rolling hills with a
-restless gaze. Always, that gaze came back to focus on the moving
-speck far ahead on the trail.
-
-“Looks like he was headin’ straight fer town, Yaller Hammer,” he
-said softly to the twitching, dun colored ears of his horse.
-“Mebbeso I’m havin’ this here ride fer nothin’, I dunno.”
-
-From his chaps pocket he produced a weatherbeaten square of plug
-tobacco, gnawed to a ragged edge at one end. He surveyed it
-critically; wiped it carefully on the sleeve of his jumper and bit
-off a generous piece.
-
-“Nothin’ like chawin’ tuh keep down the hungry feelin’s,” he mused
-aloud. “Ain’t smelt grub since daylight. Mebbeso won’t sniff none
-till mornin’, neither. It’s —— but it’s honest, pony, if yuh want
-tuh figger it thataway.”
-
-Darkness slowly gathered and Tad and Yellow Hammer closed the gap
-that separated them from Joe Kipp. Tad grinned his thanks to the
-full moon that rose majestically from beyond the skyline.
-
-He rode more alertly now, eyes and ears strained to catch any sign
-of the man he followed. Also, he watched the wagging ears of his
-horse. When those furry points stiffened, pointed forward, Tad would
-halt. Twice, when he thus stopped, he was rewarded by the sounds of
-a traveling horse, ahead on the trail. Once, Kipp’s horse had
-nickered and Tad’s big hands closed over Yellow Hammer’s black
-muzzle just in time to prevent an answering nicker. He allowed Kipp
-a bigger lead from that point on.
-
-The hours dragged. Tad dared not risk lighting a cigaret now. The
-plug of tobacco was gradually being gnawed to smaller size. Then,
-silhouetted against the skyline, showed the lone cottonwood that
-marked Hank Basset’s border line. Tad could make out the form of a
-horseman, halted beneath the wide branches. The waiting man lighted
-a cigaret and Tad recognized the features of Joe Kipp.
-
-Nodding sagely to himself, Tad dismounted and led Yellow Hammer into
-the tall greasewood.
-
-“Hate tuh treat yuh so or’nary,” he whispered as he slipped a burlap
-sack across Yellow Hammer’s muzzle and fastened it to the cheek
-bands of his bridle, “but I jest can’t have yuh makin’ no hoss
-howdy’s, _sabe_? This ain’t the fust time I’ve cluttered yuh up with
-one uh these contraptions, so don’t act spooky. That’s the good
-hoss. I wisht Shorty had half yore sense, dang his or’nary li’l
-hide. I bet he’s in the saddle this minute, streakin’ it fer the
-river. Playin’ hookey like a school kid and worryin’ a man plumb
-ga’nt.”
-
-With the caution of an Indian, Tad, devoid of spurs and chaps which
-were hung to his saddle horn, crept through the brush toward the
-cottonwood. Two horses stood beneath the lone tree now. The glowing
-ash of two cigarets showed where the dismounted horsemen squatted
-against the wide tree trunk.
-
-A clear space separated the tree and the greasewood patch where Tad
-lay prone on the ground. A space wide enough to prevent him making
-out the words of the low-toned conversation. Only when the voices
-momentarily laid stress on some spoken thought, could he make
-anything of the murmur. The voice of Kipp was clearly recognizable.
-The other speaker’s voice was vaguely familiar.
-
-“I tell yuh,” came Kipp’s voice, raised with emotion, “I’ve come to
-the breakin’ point! I’ve stood it till I can’t stand it no longer.
-Why, in ——’s name, can’t you and Fox let me quit and pull outa the
-country? I tell yuh now, I can’t be crowded no more. I’ll tell the
-whole —— miser’ble story!”
-
-“Like —— you will,” came the sneering reply, low pitched, calm,
-distinct. “You’ll play yore string out. When we clean up the Basset
-deal, you kin go. Not till then. We need yore protection.”
-
-Kipp’s reply came in a hoarse whisper, indistinguishable to the
-listener hidden in the brush.
-
-A coarse, jeering laugh came from the other man in reply. A match
-flared to light a cigaret and Tad recognized the black-bearded face
-of the half-breed, Black Jack.
-
-“You know —— well you won’t do no talkin’,” came the breed’s voice
-with cold conviction.
-
-“Where’s Fox?” asked Kipp, breaking a brief silence.
-
-“Somewhere on the LF trail, headin’ this way. And I don’t aim that
-he should ketch me here, neither. I’m draggin’ it for the Pocket.”
-
-Black Jack got to his feet and took a step toward his horse. Then he
-halted.
-
-“Goin’ to stay here all night? Better be gettin’ to town where yuh
-belong. Fox’ll be along directly and he’ll wonder what brung you
-here. Pete Basset breakin’ his stake rope has put the old gent in
-one —— of a humor, and he might treat yuh rough. Better hit the
-grit.”
-
-“I’m aimin’ tuh wait fer Fox,” replied Kipp hoarsely.
-
-“Don’t be a plumb —— fool. He’ll mebbe kill yuh.”
-
-“Reckon not.”
-
-“It’s yore funeral. I’m driftin’. Good luck. Mind what I say, now.
-Fox’ll beat yuh to it, if yuh make ary gun play. That ol’ ——’s a
-snake. So-long.”
-
-Tad listened to the thudding of hoofs as the breed rode away into
-the night. A few moments and all was silent as a grave yard.
-
-Kipp got to his feet, pinching out the glowing ash of his cigaret.
-He led his horse to a patch of brush beyond the tree. When he
-returned, the pale rays of the moon fell on the blued-steel barrel
-of the Winchester in the crook of his arm.
-
-Tad, watching the sheriff’s every move, whistled noiselessly. He saw
-Kipp settle down behind a small patch of brush. This shelter hid
-Kipp from the trail but Tad could see him plainly, outlined against
-the pale sky. Came the clicking of the sheriff’s carbine lever as he
-threw a cartridge from the magazine into the barrel. Then the gun
-raised and Tad saw Kipp squint along the barrel.
-
-“Testin’ his sights,” mused Tad. “If ever a man went through the
-motions uh bushwhackin’ a enemy, Kipp’s a-doin’ it now. He don’t
-noways aim tuh give Fox a chanct.”
-
-Tad pondered this decision for some time, his eyes fixed on Kipp.
-
-“——,” he muttered inwardly. “Puts me in one —— of a mess. Fox needs
-killin’ and needs it bad. Shore does. Even shootin’ him from the
-brush is mebbeso what’s comin’ to him, I dunno. But that won’t keep
-Kipp from bein’ a low-down, bushwhackin’ killer iffen he does the
-job. Looks tuh me like this Black Jack Injun and Fox is shore
-th’owin’ the hooks to the ol’ sheriff plumb scan’lous. They got him
-nigh loco, ’pears tuh me. But shore as he’s a foot high, Kipp’ll
-hate hisse’f fer pullin’ the trigger, afore his gun barrel cools
-off. Yessir. Bound tuh. Then what’ll he do? He’ll go to the bad,
-complete. Booze’ll put him in the bog fer keeps. Either that, er
-he’ll turn that gun on hisse’f and blow his own head off. Which
-won’t do nobody no good ’ceptin’ mebbe this Black Jack skunk. Hmm. I
-never cut into no man’s game up till now, but I’m shore declarin’
-myse’f in on this.”
-
-              *       *       *       *       *
-
-Noiselessly, he slipped back to his horse and swung into the saddle.
-As Yellow Hammer scuffed along the dusty trail at a running walk,
-Tad raised his voice in song to herald his coming. He rightly
-guessed that his approach would, for a few moments, so startle Kipp
-that the old sheriff would not have time to beat a retreat until Tad
-was too close.
-
-“Sam Bass was born in Indiana, it was his native home, And at the
-age of seventeen young Sam begun to roam. Sam fust come to Texas, a
-cowboy fer to be, A kinder hearted feller, you seldom ever see.”
-
-The words of the old range song came in full-toned, discordant
-abandon as Tad rode into the clearing.
-
-From the brush, Kipp’s horse nickered and this time Tad allowed
-Yellow Hammer to give answer.
-
-“Whoa, geldin’,” mumbled Tad, loud enough for Kipp to hear. “Looks
-like we got company. Halloo, pardner. Come out so’s we kin read yore
-brand.”
-
-A second of silence, then Kipp stepped into sight. The sheriff’s
-bushy white brows bristled in a frown of annoyance. Yet Tad was
-certain that the old fellow looked relieved. He eyed Tad with
-suspicion. “He’s wonderin’ if I’m suspectin’ him,” was Tad’s inward
-comment. Aloud he said with hearty pleasantness:
-
-“Howdy, Sheriff. Yuh git bucked off er was yuh ketchin’ some
-shut-eye?”
-
-“Dozin’ a spell,” lied Kipp. “What brings you out this time uh night
-on this trail?” Tad had not expected this question but his ready wit
-came to his rescue.
-
-“Miz Basset ’lowed she’d acted plumb or’nary towards yuh and ’lowed
-that Hank should ride after yuh and bring yuh back. I knowed Hank
-was tuckered out and a-feelin’ a heap upset about Pete, so I took
-the job off his hands. They want that I should bring yuh back.”
-
-This last statement came to the nimble-witted Tad as a happy after
-thought. If the sheriff returned with him, Fox would ride his
-homeward trail without being shot.
-
-“No need uh me ridin’ plumb back there, Ladd. I done told her and
-Hank I didn’t bear no hard feelin’s. I got business in Alder Gulch
-that should be tended to.”
-
-“’Twon’t do, Kipp. I give my word that I wouldn’t come back till I
-brung you along. Don’t make me go follerin’ yuh around fer a week er
-so.”
-
-Tad’s tone was that of light banter. Yet there lay an undercurrent
-of determination that did not escape the sheriff.
-
-“All right, if there’s no other way to it, let’s git goin’.”
-
-He led his horse from the brush and mounted. Together, they headed
-back for the Basset ranch.
-
-For some time, they rode in silence. Tad, from the shadow of his
-wide-brimmed hat, studied the sheriff’s features. Kipp was staring
-fixedly at his saddle horn, deep in brooding thought. The reaction
-was setting in now and he was shaking like a man with palsy. Then
-this passed and the old sheriff’s shoulders straightened.
-
-“Ladd,” he said abruptly. “You don’t know it, but yuh saved my life
-tonight. I wisht I could tell yuh about it, but I can’t. There’ll
-come a day when I will, though.
-
-I come —— nigh doin’ somethin’ that would uh made life a livin’
-hell. I come nigh bein’ a low down, or’nary coyote. I’m plumb
-obliged. I hope, some day, I kin pay yuh back in full.”
-
-“——, that’s all right, Kipp. Fergit it. If I he’ped yuh ary way, I’m
-right glad tuh uh done it. Yuh know, there ain’t none uh us humans
-that ain’t got a or’nary streak hid out somewhere in our innards.
-And some time er another, that there or’nary streak jest nacherally
-busts all holts and comes a-rearin’. Sometimes, we kin grab a
-tail-holt and jerk ’er back in time. More often it’s some other gent
-that heads off that or’nary streak and herds it back into our system
-tuh stay put fer the rest uh our life. I mind the night mine broke
-out.”
-
-Tad grinned into the sheriff’s eyes, lighted a cigaret, and went on,
-the words coming lazily in his soft, Southern drawl:
-
-“My mammy died when I was little more’n a yearlin’, leavin’ me tuh
-grow up kinda keerless like, my daddy not payin’ me much attention
-when I shows I kin kinda do my own rustlin’. He’s a cowpuncher fer
-the Turkey Track at the time and I’m wranglin’ hosses fer the
-spread. When they ships, I goes tuh town with the boys and while
-they’re a-blowin’ their coin fer licker and gamblin’ and such, I’m
-squanderin’ my ten a month fer sody pop and sweet truck. I’ve
-likewise bought myse’f a sore-backed, ring-boned Mexican mule which
-I gits from a drunken Pisano fer six-bits and a pint uh rot-gut
-licker.
-
-“My daddy, bein’ a good drinkin’ man and jest about slick enough at
-stud poker tuh hang and rattle all night afore he loses his taw to
-the tin-horns, ain’t much better off, financial, as me.
-
-“Then one fall night, in a Mex town along the Rio, my daddy gits
-downed in a gun scrap. I’m sleepin’ on a poker table at the time,
-waitin’ till paw goes broke so’s I kin load him on his hoss and go
-tuh camp. By the time the smoke’s cleared away and I gits full waked
-up, dad’s a-passin’ out fast and callin’ fer me. I sets there on the
-_’dobe_ floor and wipes the blood off his mouth while he crosses the
-Big Divide, a grin on his face while his eyes goes glassy.
-
-“‘Kid,’ says he, afore the blood chokes him, ‘it was Pedro Sanchez,
-the bronc peeler, that done it. Here’s my gun. When the time comes,
-git that greaser.’
-
-“I’m some twelve years old then. That night I pads that mule uh mine
-with gunny sacks, throw’s my dad’s saddle on him and proceeds tuh
-foller this Sanchez gent who has left town _pronto_ after the
-killin’. My ol’ rusty Chihuahua spur is tied to my bare foot and the
-long-barreled .45 gouges my ribs and starts wearin’ the hide off my
-hip bone. Thus burdened, as the sayin’ goes, I hits the trail uh the
-gent that’s downed my daddy.”
-
-Tad smiled reminiscently.
-
-“Yuh found him?” asked Kipp, his own troubles momentarily forgotten.
-
-“Ten years later, I finds him. He dealin’ faro bank in Juarez and
-alongside him on the table lays a white-handled six-gun with five
-notches filed on the handle, plain and insultin’ like. Sanchez,
-havin’ got off to a good start, has done turned out tuh be a killer,
-_sabe_?
-
-“Up to now, I bin as peaceful a kid as ever follered a long-horned
-steer. I’ve done got outa the notion, almost, uh shootin’ up this
-greaser. I’ve done met up with fellers, as the years passes and I
-gits rings around my horns, that tells me as how paw was or’nary
-mean when he’s lickered and the Sanchez gent has done no more than
-right when he’s kills him off. I’m beginnin’ tuh think that mebbeso
-I’m not bound and beholdin’ tuh down this Sanchez after all. Right’s
-right and wrongs no man, thinks I, and if paw had it comin’, he done
-got it and jack-pot’s played and won. So yuh see I ain’t noways
-huntin’ no trouble ner makin’ no play tuh hunt down this greaser
-feller. It jest pops up sudden.
-
-“There I stands, a awkward, long-legged, high-withered ol’ kid, and
-I’m lookin’ into the wickedest pair uh snake eyes that I ever seen.
-His lips is kinda smilin’ but the smile don’t go higher than his
-black mustache which is twisted to sharp points. Sudden like, I
-recollects a-holdin’ of my daddy’s head and wipin’ that sickish
-lookin’ pink froth from his mouth so’s he kin talk. Somehow, my gun
-has got into my hand and I’m coverin’ this snake-eyed killer.
-
-“‘I come tuh kill yuh, Sanchez,’ I says, and my voice sounds weak
-and unconvincin’ as ——.
-
-“‘So?’ says Sanchez, laughin’ short and nasty, like I’d sprung a
-josh on him. ‘I wish yuh luck, sonny.’ And with that he goes right
-on dealin’ like he’s clean fergot I’m there.
-
-“If he’d a knocked the gun outa my hand, er slapped me alongside the
-jaw, I could uh waded in and done battle. But he’s treatin’ me like
-I was a yearlin’ kid a-packin’ of a pea gun. I feels my face go hot
-like I was settin’ over a fire. My hands is cold as ice and bigger’n
-snowshoes. The barrel uh my gun is rattlin’ on the edge uh the
-table, I’m that shaky. Wust of all, a kinda blurry look looms up in
-my eyes and I know it’s tears. Man, it was jest nacherally ——!
-
-“The crowd snickers and grins. A Mex _vaquero_ makes a funny crack
-and his friends giggles. Sanchez, holdin’ his head kinda sideways
-tuh keep the smoke uh his cigaret outa his eyes, goes on dealin’
-without lookin’ up, payin’ bets and rakin’ in chips uh them that
-loses.
-
-“Somehow, I makes it across to the door, dizzy and all sickish
-inside me like a kid that’s swallered a chaw uh terbaccer. It ain’t
-till I gits out into the dark and sets down on a empty beer keg,
-that I finds that I’m still holdin’ my gun in my hand.
-
-“Fust off, I starts tuh th’ow that —— gun as fur as I kin sling it.
-Then I gits a idee. I’m goin’ tuh lay out there in the dark till
-this Sanchez comes out. Then I’ll down him. I ketches myse’f talkin’
-out loud like a loco sheep herder and tears is runnin’ like cricks
-down inside my shirt collar.
-
-“I wipes off the tears, blows my nose and takes a chaw uh fine-cut
-tuh make me feel more like a man. Then, squattin’ in the shadow near
-the door, I cocks my gun and waits fer Sanchez tuh come out fer his
-midnight lunch, which I knows most dealers does.
-
-“Sudden like, there’s a noise behind me. I swings around, startled
-sorter.
-
-“‘Fer gosh sake, put up that cannon yuh got stuck in my belly,’ says
-a good Texican American voice that don’t sound none too old. ‘She
-might go off, bein’ cocked that-away. Ease ’er tuh half-cock and
-shove ’er back in yore jeans. Me’n you’s gonna have a medicine talk,
-Slim.’
-
-“I dunno yet why I done it, but I does as he says without a whimper.
-He leads me into a saloon down the street and orders two sody pops.
-I gits a good look at him in the light.
-
-“He’s a kinda runty built kid with a face that’s plenty sprinkled
-with freckles like some cow has coughed bran in his face. He ain’t
-much tuh look at till he grins, then he’s right easy tuh stand. He’s
-got one uh these grins that makes yuh grin right back afore yuh know
-it. His left eye is black and swole up and his lower lip is split
-bad. He’s about twenty and a cowpuncher.
-
-“‘My last two bits,’ he ’lows, as he pays fer the sody pop. ‘I bet
-that’s two bits more than you got, long boy.’
-
-“I admits the charge and he nods happy like.
-
-“‘Then we starts even, feller. Down yore p’izen and loan me the use
-of a fresh chaw. Then I’m gonna take yuh back and watch yuh pull
-that Sanchez gent’s fangs.’
-
-“‘Yuh seen him bluff me down?’ I asks, plumb ashamed.
-
-“‘Yeah, I seen it. And I follered yuh outside. I seen yuh while yuh
-made up yore mind tuh shoot him from the dark.’
-
-“‘How come yuh know I was layin’ fer him?’ says I.
-
-“‘You was talkin’ to yorese’f about it, pardner. All set? Then
-rattle yore hocks and we’ll git goin’. They th’owed me outa that
-wigwam last evenin’ after the poker dealer had robbed me uh two
-months pay.’
-
-“Mebbeso it’s because I’m cooled off, er mebby it’s because this
-short-legged boy is so danged sure that I kin turn the trick,
-anyhow, when I goes back into that gamblin’ house, I’m steady as a
-work ox.
-
-“‘Whup him a plenty, Slim,’ whispers my new pardner, as we steps
-inside. ‘I’m standin’ at yore back till yore belly caves in. I’ll
-keep the gang off yuh. Whup him with yore hands.’
-
-“Which I does. Sanchez goes fer his gun there on the table when he
-sees me comin’ but he’s slow and my bullet tears that fancy cannon
-loose from under his hand without hurtin’ him, though it plumb ruins
-that white handle with the notches. He unlimbers a knife as I clears
-the table but I weans him away from it pronto when my gun barrel
-ketches him across the wrist. Then I hands my smoke pole to my new
-pardner and proceeds tuh work Mister Snake Eyes over with my hands.”
-
-Tad paused to light his cigaret. Kipp was again staring at his
-saddle horn.
-
-“That fight wins me two things that night. One was Shorty Carroway,
-the gamest pardner a man ever had. The other was what book-learnt
-folks calls se’f-respect. Only fer Shorty, I’d uh killed that
-Sanchez from the dark that night and lost my right tuh call myse’f a
-man.”
-
-Kipp shot Tad a covert glance, laden with suspicion. Did the cow
-puncher suspect him of lying in wait for Fox? But Tad’s homely
-features were guileless. They rode on in silence.
-
-              *       *       *       *       *
-
-In telling this story, Tad felt that he was accomplishing two
-purposes. He was perhaps giving the nerve-racked sheriff a new grip
-on his ebbing courage and self-control. Likewise, he was explaining
-to his own conscience, his reason for breaking one of the unwritten
-laws of the cow country. The law that says a man shall tend to his
-own affairs and leave the affairs of his fellow men strictly alone.
-
-Kipp busied himself with a sack of tobacco and brown papers. In the
-gray light of dawn, Tad watched the gnarled fingers of the sheriff,
-pouring the flaky tobacco into the paper. Those fingers were steady
-now.
-
-“Nigh sunup and yonder’s the ranch. I’m ga’nt as a coyote,” grinned
-the cow puncher.
-
-“Kinda feel thataway myself, pardner,” smiled Kipp. “Don’t know when
-I’ve felt as hungry.”
-
-
-
-
-VII
-
-
-Surprise, consternation, and a trace of suspicion were written on Ma
-Basset’s face when she greeted Tad and Kipp at the gate.
-
-“There’s—there’s nothing wrong, Sheriff?” she cried, her
-work-reddened hands gripping the gate pole.
-
-“Figgered you and Kipp ’ud want tuh talk over this here Pete
-business, so I done brung him back,” Tad explained easily, wondering
-why Ma Basset looked at him so sharply.
-
-Fresh in Ma Basset’s memory was Shorty’s fabrication regarding his
-partner’s absence at supper the night before and she was searching
-the big puncher’s rugged features for traces of his debauch.
-
-Tad’s eyes flitted to the log barn fifty feet away. He smiled
-faintly as he saw six inches of blued rifle barrel protruding
-between the chinks of the logs. The gun was covering Kipp who had
-not seen it.
-
-“Any sign of Pete?” asked Ma nervously.
-
-“Not nary, ma’am,” returned Kipp. “I’d like fer tuh pow-wow some
-with Hank regardin’ him and them cattle. Beginnin’ this mornin’, Miz
-Basset, I’m turnin’ this here sheriff star over tuh Hank. Then I’m
-makin’ a trip into the bad-lands. Iffen I comes out with them lost
-cattle I’ll be askin’ fer the badge. Iffen I don’t bring them cattle
-out, I won’t be needin’ it no more nohow. As fer Pete, I ain’t
-a-huntin’ the boy ner would I lay a hand on him, was I tuh run
-acrost him. Until I come back from the Pocket, I’m a plain, everyday
-citizen.”
-
-Tad and Ma gazed at the old officer in startled surprise. Tad was
-smiling oddly. The rifle barrel slid out of sight in the barn and
-Hank Basset, holding the gun in the crook of his arm, stepped into
-sight.
-
-“Howdy, Joe. I done heered yuh. What’s the idee in actin’
-that-away?”
-
-Kipp grinned.
-
-“A feller done told me a story last night, Hank. I don’t reckon he
-meant tuh, but he sorter showed me which trail tuh take, beginnin’
-here. I want that you should keep this here badge fer me fer a
-spell. After breakfast, I’ll be askin’ the loan of a fresh hoss.”
-
-“Land sakes!” gasped Ma, reminded of her duty to those who ride
-within one’s gate. “Light and come to the house. There’s flapjacks
-and steak that’s sp’ilin’ to be et.”
-
-Hank gazed thoughtfully for a moment at Kipp’s badge, now lying in
-the palm of his hand. Then he pocketed the star and reached for the
-bridle reins of the two horses.
-
-“Foller Ma to the house, Joe. Tad, will yuh lend me a hand fer a
-minute er so here at the barn?”
-
-Kipp and his wife out of sight, Hank led Tad to the barn with an air
-of one who has news to impart.
-
-“Where’s Shorty?” asked Tad.
-
-“Gone,” came the cryptic reply. “He done left a message fer yuh. He
-said tuh tell yuh that you was a long-geared, psalm-singin’ ol’
-sand-hill crane and that he’d learn yuh to leave him tuh tell yore
-lies fer yuh. Likewise that he was free, white and past votin’ age
-and that he could take keer uh hisse’f in ary tight. Them’s his
-exact words.”
-
-“Then the danged li’l’ banty rooster is up tuh suthin’. What hoss
-did he ride?”
-
-“Pete’s Water Dog pony. He——”
-
-“I knowed it! I knowed it!” groaned Tad. “I seen it in his eye, drat
-his pesky, speckled hide. I should uh tied him up afore I left. Ever
-since you said no man could swim that river, I seen that or’nary,
-contrary, mule-minded li’l’ varmint a-millin’ over a idee in his
-head. All yuh gotta do is tell that li’l’ ol’ son of a gun that no
-human kin do somethin’ and he don’t sleep easy ner swaller his grub
-right, till he makes yuh out a liar. I knowed it and when I pulled
-out last evenin’, I was plumb skeered he’d do somethin’ like that.
-If he’s killed, Hank, I’m tuh blame. How long has he bin gone?”
-
-“They pulled out two hours afore daylight,” came the reluctant
-answer.
-
-“They?”
-
-“Pete went with him.”
-
-“Pete?” Tad’s lips pursed in a silent whistle. “Tell me about it,
-Hank,” he finished grimly.
-
-“The boy showed up afore midnight. Seems like he’d got word somehow,
-while he was at Deer Lodge, that Fox was cleanin’ me out. That’s why
-he run away. He made me and Ma tell him the hull thing, how the
-cattle had bin run off and how Fox is aimin’ tuh jerk the rope tight
-next week when that note falls due. Then he takes my gun and ’lows
-he’s startin’ then and there fer town. He’s goin’ tuh kill Fox like
-he’d kill a mad dog and Ma’s tears ner my arguments don’t stop him.
-
-“‘Hold on a minute, Pete,’ calls a voice from the door. There stands
-Shorty, grinnin’ pleasant like. ‘Put up that gun and listen fer a
-spell while we talks sense. Killin’ Fox won’t git yuh nothin’ but a
-hangin’ bee. But you and me, barrin’ accidents and good shootin’ on
-the part uh the LF polecats, kin git them cattle back. Say we throws
-our hulls on yore top-water hosses, swims that crick and kinda give
-them gents a su’prise party?’”
-
-Hank’s hands went out in a gesture of helplessness. Tad nodded
-understandingly.
-
-“Shorty’s jest plumb fool enough tuh win out, too,” he mused aloud.
-
-“Pete ’lowed that the swimmin’ was a cinch,” admitted Hank. “But
-then, mebbeso he was jest lyin’ tuh make me and Ma feel easy. Say,
-what’s come over Joe Kipp? He acts plumb queer. Yuh don’t reckon the
-ol’ feller’s losin’ his mind, do yuh?”
-
-“Noooo. Don’t know as I’d go so fur as tuh say Kipp was gittin’
-weedy. Fact is, I think he’s jest kinda pullin’ hisse’f together.
-Yeah. Supposin’ we eases ourselves over to the house, Hank? My
-belly’s so empty that the chaw uh terbaccer I swallered tuh keep
-from goin’ tuh sleep, is rattlin’ around in my stummick like a bronc
-in a corral.”
-
-On the way to the cabin, Hank told Tad how Shorty had excused his
-partner’s absence.
-
-“The wust of it is, Tad, she believes it. Said I was a kinderd
-spirit and a whisky soak when I tries tuh explain that Shorty was
-jest funnin’. I thought fer a minute that she was goin’ tuh haze me
-into the blacksmith shop again, dang it.”
-
-Hank grinned twistedly.
-
-“I’ll wring that danged li’l’ rooster’s neck when I ketches him,”
-grinned Tad.
-
-“He ’lowed he was breakin’ even fer that windy yuh told Ma about a
-hoss throwin’ him and givin’ him the black eye.”
-
-During breakfast, Tad caught Ma Basset’s gaze fixed on him, and he
-felt his ears growing red. No doubt the woman thought that bringing
-Kipp back with him was some sort of drunken whim. Moreover, Kipp’s
-odd behavior did much to convince Ma that the sheriff was also under
-the influence of liquor. Tad breathed a sigh of relief when they
-were safely back at the corral and Kipp had caught a fresh horse.
-
-“I’d like tuh go along, Joe,” said Hank. “Them’s my cattle, yuh know
-and it’s no more’n right that I should be goin’.”
-
-“It’s a one-man job, Hank. There’ll like as not be some powder
-burnt. Yuh don’t want tuh leave no widder behind yuh. In case I
-don’t come back, here’s the combination to my safe.”
-
-He handed Hank a slip of paper on which were some penciled figures.
-
-“In the safe is a sealed envelope addressed to you. It has some
-papers which will be uh use to yuh. But it ain’t tuh be opened till
-I’m dead, savvy?”
-
-Hank nodded, then looked at Tad. “Reckon I’d best tell Joe about
-Pete?” Tad pondered this a moment, then: “Might as well. Can’t do no
-harm, Hank.”
-
-“Pete’s aimin’ tuh swim the river from yon side uh the Narrers and
-come into the Pocket, Joe.”
-
-“——!” Kipp’s eyes filled with pain.
-
-“He’ll never make it, Hank. Even if he crosses, there’s a man
-watching the trail from the river. He’ll be killed, shore.”
-
-“Then I reckon I’ll be goin’ along with yuh, Kipp,” said Tad.
-“Shorty went with Pete. If Shorty gits killed, all —— can’t stop me
-till I downs every last man that’s mixed up in this. All of them,
-_sabe_?” Tad’s eyes had gone hard as ice. The good-natured
-expression had given way to hard, grim lines.
-
-“I reckon,” said Kipp slowly, meeting Tad’s gaze without flinching,
-“that I _sabe_, Ladd. That bein’ the case, I want that you should
-come along with me.”
-
-They saddled in silence. Tadd slipped a Winchester into the saddle
-scabbard and emptied a box of 30–40 shells into his pocket.
-
-“I told Fox I’d meet him at the lone cottonwood to deliver those
-cattle, Hank,” said Tad with a grimness that gave the statement the
-tone of a threat. “That’ll be Sunday noon. I reckon you’ll be there.
-So-long till then.”
-
-“Remember the paper in the safe,” Kipp reminded Hank. “It’ll explain
-a heap that I reckon yo’re a big enough man tuh understand, Hank.”
-
-Without another word, Tad and Kipp rode away, leaving Hank standing
-in the gateway, scratching his head in a puzzled manner.
-
-“Hank Basset,” called Ma from the doorway, some time later.
-“Whatever in the world are yuh standin’ there in the road fer? A
-person ’ud think you’d jest said good-by to yore last friend, a
-standin’ around like a hoot owl with yore hat in yore hand,
-gawkin’.”
-
-“Last friend?” muttered Hank, as he turned to the house. “I don’t
-know but what she done guessed it right. The hull danged business
-has got beyond me, dad gum it.”
-
-“If you bin hittin’ that bottle,” warned Ma, her voice firm with
-determination, “you’ll put in the rest of the week at the blacksmith
-shop. I’ll have no drunken rowdies set foot over my door sill.”
-
-Ten feet from the cabin, Hank halted. He saw Ma Basset holding the
-bottle of snake-bite medicine to the light. Memory of Shorty’s
-healthy-sized drinks came to Hank’s mind.
-
-“A good three inches below my last mark,” he heard his wife mutter.
-“I suspected as much.”
-
-With a groan, Hank turned and with dragging steps, entered the
-blacksmith shop.
-
-“Beat her to it that time,” he muttered, seating himself on a keg of
-horse shoes and biting off a corner of plug tobacco.
-
-
-
-
-VIII
-
-
-“As well marked as a prize-winnin’ white-face, and as quick actin’
-as a top-cuttin’ hoss,” was Shorty Carroway’s mental summing up of
-young Pete Basset. “He’d orter act plumb purty in a scrap, be it
-six-gun er knock down and drag out.”
-
-Nor was Shorty far from being wrong in his estimation of his
-companion. Straight-featured, clean-limbed, his clear eyes honest
-and alight with the fire of unspoiled youth, the son of Hank Basset
-sat his horse with a careless grace that marked him a born horseman.
-Even college had left him unspoiled by the flattery and idolatry
-that is the unmaking of many a crack athlete.
-
-“I don’t much like the idea of you getting mixed up in this mess,
-Carroway,” he said in a troubled tone. “It’s really not your scrap,
-you know, and there’s going to be some nasty battling before it’s
-over. It sure is white of you, and darn few men would do what you’re
-doing now, even friends of long standing. Hang it all, we’re little
-more than strangers to you and it’s not fair to——”
-
-“Fergit it, Pete,” grinned Shorty, reddening. “Strangers? I reckon
-not. There’s some folks that I’ve knowed since I was hock high to a
-cotton-tail rabbit, that’s more strangers tuh me than yore paw and
-mammy. They done took me and my Tad pardner into the house like we
-was kin folks. Dang it, I ain’t et such grub since I was a yearlin’.
-
-“Anyhow, my reasons fer takin’ chips in this here game is sorter
-vary and sundry, as the feller says. Tad’s bin abusin’ me scan’lous
-and I aim tuh git even. That’s one reason. Then, this here Fox
-hombre is nacherally goin’ tuh rear up and fall over backward on
-hisse’f when we brings out this herd. Thirdly and mostly, I’m
-sp’ilin’ tuh lay hands on this here gent which goes by the handle uh
-Black Jack, thereby completin’ a job uh manhandlin’ which I was
-forced tuh quit sudden like onct at the LF wagon.
-
-“Again, I’m honin’ fer tuh show yore daddy that there’s one human
-besides his son which kin bust that Missouri wide open. All uh
-which, _amigo_, downs ary argument on yore part. Ain’t it about time
-we was gittin’ to that place acrost from the Narrers? We bin ridin’
-right along since we crossed on the ferry and she’s nigh dark.”
-
-“We’re about opposite the upper end now, Shorty. See that high-cut
-bank below the first little bend? That’s her. That lighter brown
-strip is their trail where they water the stock. We’re a mile above,
-rough figuring. That means we’ll drift to that trail nicely,
-starting here. We’ll angle it as much as we can. Current’s swift and
-the channel lays full against the cut back on the other side.
-
-“See that sharp pinnacle? Well that’s the point we’ll head for.
-It’ll show plain against the sky when the moon rises. Barring
-undercurrents and snags, we stand a fighting chance of hitting it.
-If we don’t, it’s thumbs down for us. That cliff is ten miles to the
-lower end and not six inches toe-hold in the ten miles. I wish you
-wouldn’t tackle it, pardner.”
-
-Shorty shook his head and, following Pete’s actions, dismounted and
-unsaddled. Hobbles were adjusted and the two partook of a meager
-repast of jerky and canned tomatoes. Brush screened them from the
-opposite bank as they squatted beneath a big cottonwood and waited
-for darkness and a rising moon.
-
-Already, the approaching danger was fast cementing a strong
-friendship between these two. As men will do on such occasions, they
-exchanged confidences, swapped stories and lighted their cigarets
-from the same match.
-
-Pete’s quick movements and the dancing light in his gray eyes
-betrayed the nervous tension within. Shorty showed not a trace of
-whatever emotion lay behind his soft-spoken banter. Though a scant
-ten years older than his companion, Shorty had been well tutored in
-the school of hard knocks. Like his partner, Tad, he was an orphan,
-range-reared and self reliant. The only living thing that he was
-afraid of was a woman. The more beautiful, the more fear she
-instilled in the heart of the little cowpuncher. Danger merely
-quickened his pulse as strong drink affects a man unused to it. Yet
-he masked his feelings as effectively as the seasoned gambler hides
-four aces. It was as if risking his life was an everyday occurrence,
-all in a day’s work.
-
-Twilight deepened into night and a white moon pushed itself over the
-ragged skyline. A horned owl hoo-hooed in the cottonwoods. The timid
-white-tail deer bedded down in their red willow thicket. Back in the
-brakes, a wolf gave voice to a long-drawn howl. A ripple showed on
-the smooth surface of the water as a muskrat swam from its hole in
-the clay bank. Plunk! A beaver tail slapped the water with such
-abruptness that Shorty’s hand dropped to his gun.
-
-“I reckon we might as well tackle it,” said Pete quietly, getting to
-his feet.
-
-They saddled in silence, with great care. Cinches were left loose.
-Hackamores took the place of bridles. Boots and chaps were rolled in
-a neat bundle and tied to the backs of the saddles. Shorty bit off a
-large chew of plug and swung into the saddle.
-
-“There’s no way of keeping you from coming along, Shorty?”
-
-“Not nary, Pete. I done hired out fer a tough hand and I plays my
-string out. Chaw?”
-
-He held out the gnawed plug.
-
-“Thanks, but I never chaw, pardner.”
-
-“Then don’t never learn. I gotta own up though, that there’s nothin’
-quite so plumb downright soothin’ as a man-size hunk uh plug at a
-time like this. It’s as intoxicatin’ as a shot uh tea is to a ol’
-maid school-marm. Take the lead, pard. I’m follerin’ clost behind.
-The sooner yuh starts, the better. These dad-gummed mosquiters is
-shore a-eatin’ off me fierce.”
-
-Pete in the lead rode out on a sand bar and his horse waded out into
-the stream. The swift-flowing water swirled and eddied about the
-animal’s legs.
-
-“That high peak yonder, Shorty,” he called softly as his horse hit
-swimming water. “Right yuh are, Peter.”
-
-No further word was spoken. Shorty set his jaws as the swift current
-swept his horse downstream. Easily, he slipped from the saddle and
-with a hand holding to his horse’s mane, swam alongside. The water
-was cool enough to freshen his tired nerves. He grinned to himself
-and jerked his hat down on his head with his free hand. Ahead of him
-he could see Pete and his horse. Both horses swam high in the water.
-
-Suddenly, like a bobbing cork pulled by a string, Pete and his mount
-were sucked beneath the surface.
-
-“Undercurrent,” muttered Shorty as he filled his lungs with a deep
-breath of air.
-
-Then he and his horse went under as if drawn by an invisible hand.
-In reality but a moment, yet it seemed an hour to the cowpuncher,
-and they again came to the top.
-
-“All right?” called a voice from ahead.
-
-“Settin’ purty,” he called back.
-
-The horses were blowing softly with a rattling noise. Unexcited,
-swimming stoutly, they battled against the current. Shorty splashed
-water against the side of his horse’s head to guide the animal a
-point downstream. Once more he was heading straight for the sharp
-point that loomed black against the sky.
-
-A dark, misshapen object bobbed up ahead. It was a big tree, half
-submerged, floating downstream. With swift, sure movements, Shorty
-swung his swimming horse to face straight up-stream against the
-current.
-
-“Easy now, ol’ hoss,” he murmured soothingly. “Jest kinda mark time
-fer a minute till yon snag drifts on to St. Louis. That’s the idee.
-Now she’s gone.”
-
-And they were under way once more. Ahead, Pete was watching for
-snags and had worked his way back until he now clung to his horse’s
-tail. Behind him, Shorty was doing the same. A scant hundred feet
-ahead the black shadow of the bank rose ominously. Pete scanned the
-unbroken shadow for a trace of the trail.
-
-Momentary panic clutched Pete. Where the trail should be, only a
-perpendicular wall showed. Either he was above or below the trail
-that meant escape from the treacherous river. Then the panic passed,
-giving way to dogged, unyielding determination. He dared not call
-out to his companion for fear of being overheard by the men they
-sought. He swung his horse to breast the current and waited for the
-coming of Shorty.
-
-A moment and the little puncher was alongside, careful to keep his
-distance lest the horses paw each other. The animals were breathing
-hard now. It had been a desperately hard swim. How long their
-strength and courage would hold out was a problem that might easily
-mean death to men and beasts.
-
-“Missed ’er,” whispered Pete hoarsely. “We got to chance it
-downstream, I reckon.”
-
-Swimming squarely against the current, their horses had been losing
-ground slowly. Shorty nodded and, gripping his floating saddle
-strings, pulled himself alongside the neck of his horse. He deftly
-slipped free his rope strap and flipped the end of his lariat to
-Pete. Pete caught it and with a nod, slipped the end under his
-armpits and knotted it. Shorty passed his loop over his head and
-under his arms, then drew it tight. Now, if one of them should find
-footing along that treacherous bank, he could save his companion. On
-the other hand, if one of them went under, the other would meet the
-same fate.
-
-“Both or neither,” explained Shorty in a grim whisper, then swung
-his horse downstream. “Here goes nothin’.”
-
-Two pairs of bloodshot, straining eyes swept the bank that slipped
-past so swiftly. Shorty now was in the lead, Pete ten feet behind,
-the slack of the rope coiled in his hand to keep from tangling. Both
-men were taking it with deadly calm as they fought their battle
-against the death that lurked in the muddy, swirling water.
-
-Suddenly Shorty’s horse ceased swimming. The animal’s legs were
-swept downstream and he floated.
-
-“Gone belly-up, Pete,” Shorty grunted.
-
-“Look out!” called Pete in a hoarse whisper, as his horse lunged
-forward in the water in an effort to climb on top of the floating
-horse.
-
-Now indeed, the situation was critical. Shorty ducked beneath the
-striking forefeet of Pete’s horse and with every ounce of his
-strength, jerked at his hackamore rope. Pete did likewise. The melee
-of struggling horses and men drifted apart. To the left, a narrow
-ribbon of light cut the dark wall of the bank.
-
-“The trail, thank ——,” muttered Pete and, with a jerk that seemed to
-tear the ligaments in his arm, wrenched at the hackamore rope. An
-agonizing moment, then his horse lunged shoreward and found footing.
-
-The weight of Shorty’s horse, swimming once more, hindered the
-puncher greatly as he fought the current, his eyes fixed on that
-strip of light that meant safety. Loath to let loose his horse, he
-fought off the temptation to turn the animal loose. The horse was
-becoming panicky now, snorting and lunging, pawing at the man ahead
-of him in the water. Flinty, steel-shod hoofs broke the water a
-scant two feet behind Shorty’s head.
-
-Pete, in the saddle now, dallied the slack rope around his saddle
-horn. His stockinged heels pressed the heaving sides of his tired
-horse.
-
-Back in the water, Shorty felt the rope beneath his arms go tight.
-Both his hands grasped the hackamore rope of his struggling horse.
-The noose beneath his arms tightened till it seemed to be cutting
-him in two. He clamped his jaws and gripped the hackamore rope. His
-arms seemed to be stretching until they loosened in the sockets.
-Seconds seemed eternity. Then he felt himself being dragged along
-the clay bank of the trail that led upward. He dimly saw his horse
-flounder ashore and stand with wide-spread legs and lowered head on
-the bank. With a grunt of utter relief he let go the hackamore rope.
-
-              *       *       *       *       *
-
-“Stick ’em up!” bawled a hoarse voice from above.
-
-A spurt of flame and the roar of a gun, then Pete’s voice, trembling
-a bit.
-
-“Got him, Shorty. Are you all right?”
-
-A violent choking, gasping sound from Shorty and Pete, gun in hand,
-cast off the rope and, leaping to the ground, slid down the trail to
-his companion’s side.
-
-“Good gosh, man! What’s wrong?” he whispered, loosening the rope and
-peering into Shorty’s writhing features.
-
-Shorty scrambled to his feet, reaching for his gun.
-
-“My chaw. Swallered ’er. Let’s go,” he gasped, and lunged forward to
-throw himself upon a dark blot that moved along the bank.
-
-The dull thud of a gun barrel sounded as it struck something.
-
-“Your shot jest winged him, Pete. He’s out fer a spell now. Gimme
-the rope and we’ll hog-tie him. Then let’s git outa here.”
-
-“Yo’re covered, —— yuh!” called a hidden voice. “Plug ’em if they
-make a move, Bill. “Stick them —— hands in the air.”
-
-Two rapid shots cut the darkness and Shorty felt the air of a lead
-slug pass his cheek.
-
-“Whupped!” he grunted and raised his hands. “I’ve laid down my hand,
-feller,” he called. “Foller suit, Pete, they got us foul.”
-
-
-
-
-IX
-
-
-A killer is, with mighty few exceptions, a killer because of his own
-desires. Black Jack, foreman for the LF, was no exception. He did
-not even, secretly or openly, offer the plea that he was a victim of
-circumstance. He had killed men. He would kill more men. His past
-was a sealed book, his future a gamble and thus he met each day as
-it came. Making no prayer, he branded as weak any man who believed
-in a God. A half-breed, and the blend was dangerously bad for he had
-inherited the baser traits of both races.
-
-Now, as he looked along the barrel of his Winchester to find Pete
-Basset at the end of it, his white teeth flashed in a smile that was
-unpleasant to see. The bushy black beard hid the cruel lines about
-his mouth, but the narrow slits of black that were his eyes,
-glittered as the moonlight struck them. A brown finger pressed the
-trigger, then paused uncertainly.
-
-The taint in his mixed blood, thrown back to some breech-clouted
-ancestor, now stayed his hand. He hated Pete Basset and a bullet
-between the boy’s eyes would be too mercifully quick an end. His
-trigger finger eased off.
-
-Pete Basset, shocked and not a little disappointed at Shorty’s easy
-surrender, hesitated uncertainly, gun lowered, making no move to
-raise his hands nor return the fire. He realized with a sickening
-feeling in the pit of his stomach, that Black Jack and his men were
-well hidden and on higher ground that prevented a rush. He and
-Shorty, on the other hand, stood in plain view. Resistance meant
-death. Shorty had shown judgment, not a yellow streak. He dropped
-his gun and raised his hands.
-
-Shorty, the lariat still in his hands, elevated his arms skyward and
-grinned weakly. The soft drip-drip of water from their soaked
-clothes on to the hard clay was the only sound that broke the quiet
-of the night.
-
-Behind the willow clump, Black Jack lay aside his Winchester and
-drew his .45.
-
-“The little ’un brung a rope, Bill,” he announced in a jeering tone
-as he stepped into the open. “Mebbeso it’ll come in right handy to
-string ’em up. Ketch ropes is scarce and hangin’ a man spoils a rope
-fer use. Bad luck to use one that’s snaked a man tuh ——.”
-
-Followed by another man, he stepped carefully down the incline.
-
-“Howdy, Black Whiskers,” said Shorty glibly. “When yuh go through my
-pockets after you’ve made a corpse outa me, yuh’ll find four bits in
-my off flank pocket. Buy yorese’f a shave with it.”
-
-Holding his gun in careless readiness, Black Jack stepped closer,
-still on the incline. Shorty noticed that the single action gun was
-not cocked but that the breed’s thumb was on the hammer.
-
-“If yuh got ary more comical sayin’s in yore system,” he sneered,
-git shet of ’em. I understand as how hangin’ kinda interferes with a
-man’s voice. Bill, tie Basset up. I’ll tend to this mouthy one.”
-
-Black Jack’s hand slipped hipward and produced a pair of steel
-handcuffs. He was clear of the incline now and on a level with
-Shorty, standing but a couple of feet distant.
-
-“Jest lay aside yore hangin’ rope, little man, and hold yore lily
-white paws out fer a nice pair uh bracelets.”
-
-Shorty’s right hand flicked forward from the wrist with a deft,
-swift movement. The round noose shot out, settled, and tightened
-with such abruptness that Black Jack was caught off his guard.
-Shorty hurled himself backward, jerking the breed from his feet.
-The .45 exploded harmlessly.
-
-Pete threw himself forward as Bill shot. The youth’s hand clutched
-the gun on the ground and, rolling over with a catlike twist, he
-fired at the shadowy form that came through the air at him like a
-mountain lion springing on its prey. His shot missed Bill by inches
-and their bodies met in a thudding crash to writhe and twist in
-locked embrace.
-
-Shorty’s wet socks slipped on the water-soaked clay bank as he
-jerked the rope. Black Jack, the shining handcuffs now a nasty
-weapon, was upon him, the steel manacles crashing full into Shorty’s
-face. A grunt of pain and the little puncher’s hand gripped the
-black whiskers and jerked. His other fist swung at the man’s jaw.
-
-Again and again the steel cuffs clinked and clashed against the
-cowpuncher’s face. They came away each time speckled with blood.
-Shorty, on his back underneath the breed, pulled the harder on the
-black whiskers and his free arm went around the sinewy brown neck.
-Muscles flexed and tightened like a steel-jawed trap and the blows
-from the handcuffs became less effective as Shorty slowly pulled the
-breed down to him.
-
-Then, with a writhing, twisting movement used by professional
-wrestlers, the little puncher slid from under the other’s bulk,
-still holding the black head in the crook of his arm. A short arm
-jab, vicious and effective, caught Black Jack’s jaw, bringing a
-grunt of pain from the breed.
-
-From the shelter of the high bank moved the man whom Shorty had
-knocked out with his gun. The man was crawling toward Shorty and
-Black Jack, his eyes on Shorty’s gun that lay close by. His hand
-closed over the weapon and he sprang forward, his right arm dangling
-awkwardly at his side, the gun in his left hand.
-
-Shorty saw him and with a terrific effort rolled over, dragging the
-striking, snarling half-breed with him. The wounded man, cursing
-methodically to fight off pain and dizziness, stumbled forward and
-flung himself on top the two. His gun thudded against Shorty’s head.
-Once, twice, three times. Shorty’s grip on the black-bearded head
-relaxed and he went limp, his bleeding, mangled features ghastly in
-the light of the white moon.
-
-Pete and Bill, panting and fighting like wild beasts, fought without
-rules nor thought of fair tactics. Not a word passed their clamped
-jaws as they rolled to the water’s edge and under the feet of
-Shorty’s horse.
-
-The horse, frightened, lashed out at the struggling forms. A shod
-hoof struck Bill in the ribs and with a groan, he relaxed his grip.
-Rolling free of the horse’s flying hoofs, Pete staggered to his
-feet, aiming a kick at Bill’s face. The stocking-clad heel caught
-Bill on the cheek. With a last effort, the outlaw clutched Pete’s
-leg and wrapped his arms about it, jerking Pete off balance and
-bringing him to the ground.
-
-Black Jack, his breath coming in sobbing gasps, had regained his
-feet. He saw Pete lurch to a sitting posture.
-
-“Here!” called the wounded man and thrust the .45 into Black Jack’s
-hand. “Finish the ——!”
-
-The half-breed jumped forward. The next instant the gun barrel
-crashed against Pete’s head and the fight was over.
-
-
-
-
-X
-
-
-“Ladd,” said Joe Kipp, breaking a long silence that followed their
-departure from the Basset ranch, “how long was you at the lone
-cottonwood afore yuh let me see yuh?”
-
-“Mebbeso half an hour, Kipp. I laid in the brush watchin’ yuh.”
-
-“Figgered yuh must ’a’ bin cold-trailin’ me er you’d uh ketched up
-with me long afore yuh did. I’d kinda like tuh know jest how yuh
-figger me out.”
-
-“That’s a hard question, pardner. Dang me if I kin read yore hand
-even when I’ve had a look at yore hole card. The sign all says that
-yo’re playin’ a double game. Yet I’d shore hate tuh think it.”
-
-“I’m obliged, Ladd. I hope tuh clear some things up afore many
-hours. Supposin’ I tell yuh that by comin’ along with me now, yo’re
-hinderin’ instead uh helpin’ things?”
-
-“’Twouldn’t keep me from comin’, Kipp. Not when my Shorty pardner is
-mixed up in the deal. I aim tuh see it through, regardless.”
-
-Tad’s tone and the look in his eyes forbade further argument.
-
-“You heerd me and Black Jack talkin’?”
-
-“Only some, when yuh raised yore voices. I heered enough tuh _sabe_
-that you was aimin’ tuh lay fer Fox, that was about all.”
-
-“You got reason tuh want Fox killed. Yet yuh kept me from doin’ it.
-Why?”
-
-“Because, like I said, I knowed you wa’n’t that sort uh man and it
-wouldn’t he’p none tuh kill Fox from the brush. I reckon yo’re goin’
-tuh clear up things if yuh kin and I’ll lend a hand if the play
-comes up. I hope yuh come out winners, Kipp.”
-
-“Yet yuh won’t trust me tuh go alone?”
-
-“Not when Shorty’s needin’ me, no.” Again an uncomfortable silence
-fell over them, unbroken till they reached the edge of the
-bad-lands.
-
-“There’ll be a man on guard farther along this trail,” said Kipp.
-“If I ride up alone, he’ll let me pass. If you come along, there’ll
-be shootin’ and we’ll lose a horse apiece and go back afoot. Will
-yuh trust me to go that far by myself? I’ll signal yuh from that
-bald knoll when I’ve cleared the trail.”
-
-Tad pondered this for a long moment as he searched Kipp’s eyes.
-Apparently satisfied with what he read in the older man’s face, he
-nodded briefly.
-
-“I’ll wait half an hour, Kipp. Then I’ll be comin’, regardless uh
-ary signal. Them that tries tuh stop me will find they got a game.”
-
-Kipp nodded and, leaving Tad squatted on the ground rolling a
-cigaret, rode on.
-
-Tad consulted a battered silver-cased watch and shoved it back in
-his overall pocket. A squint at the sun told him that dusk was but
-an hour distant. Smoke curling lazily from his nostrils, he watched
-Kipp out of sight.
-
-Despite Kipp’s apparent duplicity, Tad liked the white-haired old
-man and felt certain that he was not being tricked. There had been
-an indefinable something in the sheriff’s eyes that puzzled Tad. He
-felt certain that whatever hold Fox and Black Jack had on Kipp, it
-must be a terrible one. He knew that Kipp’s momentary lapse of
-physical courage was a minor point. There was something far greater
-than any fear of physical pain that threatened the sheriff. Now Kipp
-was about to break that hold. What would be the outcome?
-
-Thus pondering, Tad saw Kipp ride to the bare knoll and signal with
-his hat. Tad was on his feet and in the saddle before the hat quit
-waving. Across Tad’s saddle pommel lay his Winchester, a shell in
-the barrel, the hammer at half-cock.
-
-Kipp met him, smiling thinly.
-
-“Where’s the guard?” asked Tad. “Gagged and hog-tied in the brush
-yonder. He quit easy when I threw down on him. We’re safe now till
-we hit the river bottom. They only had one man on guard today. They
-bin brandin’, so the gent told me. We’ll take our time now. Dark’ll
-come on quick here in the cañons and we’ll slip into the Pocket
-afore they spot us.”
-
-“How many men down there?”
-
-“Hard tuh tell. Mebbe three-four. Mebbe so a dozen. They drift in
-and out. If they bin brandin’, like as not there’ll be half a
-dozen.”
-
-Kipp led the way along the narrow trail that now led along the side
-of the shale cliff. Tad understood now why it required but one man
-to guard the trail. A single man could, by hiding behind the rimrock
-above, drop as many men as he had cartridges in his gun. If Kipp
-were bent on tricking him, now was his chance.
-
-Tad felt a shiver pass along his spine, and glanced uneasily about
-him. Then he shifted his gun to cover Kipp, grimly determined to
-shoot if treachery showed in the shape any movement near the
-rimrock.
-
-Kipp, turning in his saddle to address some remark, saw Tad’s gun
-covering him. The faint smile on the old officer’s lips could not
-hide the pain of humiliation in his eyes. Tad grinned uneasily but
-did not shift the position of his gun.
-
-The sheriff faced forward once more, the remark he had been about to
-make unspoken. In the fading light, Tad gazed at the tufts of
-snow-hued hair beneath the battered hat. The shoulders beneath
-Kipp’s faded jumper sagged as if beneath the weight of some great
-load.
-
-“——,” muttered Tad, and shifted his Winchester so that the weapon
-rested across his saddle, muzzle toward the cliff.
-
-“I’ll borry the use of a chaw if yuh got ary handy,” he called.
-
-In the pocket of his chaps was a plug, but he somehow felt ashamed
-of mistrusting Kipp and wanted the old fellow to know that he was no
-longer covered.
-
-Kipp tossed him a piece of tobacco, noticing the while that
-Tad’s Winchester now pointed in another direction. He grinned
-understandingly and they rode on down the steep trail.
-
-Dark fell like a black blanket, to be followed by the pale
-moonlight. From the river bottom, miles below, the faint sound of
-shots echoed, reechoed, and died away, leaving a silence charged
-with a sinister foreboding that caused Tad Ladd’s eyes to narrow
-dangerously.
-
-“Can’t we make better time down this —— trail, Kipp?” he growled. “I
-don’t like them shots.”
-
-“Goin’ faster might mean a fall, Ladd. The more haste, the less
-speed, right now. We can’t do them boys much good if we gits
-crippled up.”
-
-Tad, boiling with impatience, realized the truth of Kipp’s
-assertion. It seemed hours before the trail widened and they found
-themselves on level ground in the deep shadow of towering
-cottonwoods.
-
-The bawling of a cow, hunting her calf. The distant crack of brush
-as a white-tail buck broke cover. The mournful call of a horned owl.
-Then silence.
-
-“The corrals is nigh a mile from here,” whispered Kipp. “The cabins
-lays beyond them a hundred yards. It might be wise fer me tuh go on
-alone. They know that Pete Basset broke out and there may be a man
-er two scattered along the trail. Two of us ’ud look queer. If I was
-tuh go on alone, I’d sorter spring ary traps they had set fer
-visitors, savvy, and not git shot. Trust me?”
-
-“Them shots we heered, Kipp. I don’t like tuh set here doin’ nothin’
-while mebbeso Shorty’s needin’ me bad.”
-
-“If he was needin’ yuh tuh help out ary gun scrap, there’d be more
-shots. If that shootin’ was sign of a fight, the fight’s done fit
-and won long ago. Best let me go on alone. Iffen I gits in a tight,
-I’ll shoot and you kin come a foggin’. Gimme half a hour. Then come
-on keerful.”
-
-If Kipp was bent on leading him into a trap, thought Tad, he would
-have done so before they quit the narrow trail.
-
-“I’ll chance it, Sheriff,” he replied.
-
-Kipp nodded briefly and in a moment was lost to sight along the
-trail that faded into the tall trees.
-
-The sheriff’s horse made but little noise as it traveled along the
-trail. Minutes passed and his coming was not challenged. Then
-without warning, a sickening crash of breaking timber under the
-horse. Kipp and his mount dropped out of sight in the thinly covered
-pit. Snorting with fear, the horse went down, Kipp striving
-desperately to free himself from the falling animal. The sheriff’s
-head struck something solid and he lost consciousness.
-
-Two heavily armed men stepped from a clump of choke-cherry brush.
-
-“I’m right glad that —— deadfall ketched somethin’,” grinned one of
-them. “I shore sweat a plenty diggin’ her. Wonder how this gent got
-past the guard.”
-
-“I ketched sight uh his face as he dropped in,” growled the other.
-“It was Kipp. That’s how-come he got down the trail without bein’
-drilled. Hope it didn’t bust the hoss’s leg.”
-
-“Ner Kipp’s neck. Black Jack’ll raise —— if he gits killed and a
-stranger gits put in the sheriff office. Fox’d have a shore tough
-time of it if a hard man was put in Kipp’s place. Lower the ladder
-and we’ll look over the damage.”
-
-“I’d give somethin’ tuh know what they got on old Kipp,” muttered
-the other as he lowered a ladder into the pit.
-
-One of them went down the ladder. A moment later a match sputtered
-and lit up the inky blackness of the hole.
-
-“Kipp’s knocked out and the hoss is good as ever,” he called in
-guarded tones. “Better shove down the gangplank so we kin lead the
-critter up.”
-
-              *       *       *       *       *
-
-A cleated plank runway was lowered and after some minutes of work
-the frightened horse was led to solid ground. Kipp, still
-unconscious and bleeding from a nasty scalp wound, was carried out.
-
-“You lead his hoss. I’ll pack him across my saddle.”
-
-Thus Joe Kipp was carried to the lighted cabin where Black Jack sat
-on the edge of a bunk smoking cigarets and taunting the two
-prisoners who were on the dirt floor, bound hand and foot, their
-backs against a log wall.
-
-“Where’d yuh git him?” asked Black Jack.
-
-“He rode into the pit.”
-
-Black Jack picked up a water bucket and threw the contents roughly
-into Kipp’s face. The sheriff groaned and opened his eyes. The breed
-stooped and plucked the .45 from Kipp’s scabbard, then resumed his
-seat on the bunk. Behind his half-closed eyes lay some nervous
-tension and his brows knitted in a scowl as he watched Kipp sputter
-and struggle to a sitting posture on the floor.
-
-Shorty and Pete exchanged a quick look but made no sound. Both were
-disheveled and Shorty’s face was swollen and caked with dried blood.
-Yet his eyes blazed defiantly and about his bruised lips played a
-sardonic smile. Pete, erect and defiant, strained cautiously at the
-ropes that bound his arms. Both the prisoners divided their glances
-between Black Jack and Kipp.
-
-“Where’s Fox?” snapped Black Jack.
-
-“He ain’t dead, if that’s what yo’re drivin’ at,” returned Kipp.
-
-Black Jack seemed relieved at hearing this bit of news.
-
-“Miss him?” he sneered. “Er lose yore guts at the last minute?”
-
-“Neither.” Kipp was gathering his addled wits. “How long have I bin
-knocked out?”
-
-“Ten minutes, rough guessin’,” grinned one of the men who had taken
-him from the pit.
-
-Kipp, thinking of Tad, calculated swiftly. Fifteen minutes had
-passed since the two had parted. That meant that in fifteen minutes
-more, Tad would be riding along that trail into a similar trap
-perhaps.
-
-“Got ary more uh them —— holes around here fer a man tuh fall into?”
-he growled, feeling gingerly of his head.
-
-Black Jack laughed harshly.
-
-“Nope. One’s a-plenty, I reckon. How come yuh never lit no signal
-fire from the rimrock like yuh was told to?”
-
-“Fergot.”
-
-Kipp felt somewhat relieved to learn that Tad would not be trapped
-as he had been.
-
-“Fergot, eh?” Black Jack sneered. “Mebbe. Mebbe not. Looks tuh me
-like you was aimin’ tuh sneak in and take a look around. You bin
-weakenin’ fer some time. When I left yuh last night, you was doin’
-some nasty talkin’. ’Lowed you was through with me and Fox. By ——,
-I’ll see about that! Afore yo’re a hour older, I’ll have yuh messed
-up so —— tight you won’t never make a peep. See them two skunks
-settin’ yonder? They’re cashin’ in their chips tonight, savvy? And
-yo’re the gent tuh do the job. Then yuh kin go back to Hank Basset
-and be —— to yuh. Go back and tell him how yuh hung his son and the
-nosey runt of a would-be gunman that come in here with him! Tell
-Basset that. I’ll learn yuh to lay down on me!”
-
-The breed was literally shaking with rage now. His ugly lips twisted
-in a leering grin.
-
-“I aimed tuh shoot them two and dump ’em in the river. Hangin’ beats
-that all tuh ——, though. ’Specially with Sheriff Kipp tuh lead their
-hosses out from under ’em and leave ’em danglin’ to a cottonwood
-limb.”
-
-“——!” said Kipp hoarsely, reading full well the cruel cunning in
-Black Jack’s smoldering eyes. “You won’t! If ary harm come to them
-two boys, you’ll hang fer it. I’ll hang with ’em afore I’ll mix up
-in such a low-down murder. I told yuh I’d come to the place where I
-was quittin’. I meant what I said. I’m givin’ you a chanct that you
-don’t noways deserve. I’m givin’ you twenty-four hours tuh quit the
-country. After that time, I’m goin’ after yuh and by ——, I’ll put
-yuh back in the pen where yuh belong.”
-
-Black Jack, calm again, sneered insultingly into the face of the
-sheriff.
-
-“I reckon yo’re drunk. Yo’re fergettin’ who you are, ain’t yuh?”
-
-“No,” said Kipp evenly, “I ain’t fergittin’. I’ve left papers
-behind me which tell the whole —— story. If I don’t come back in
-twenty-four hours there’ll be a hundred men in here to see what’s
-become uh me and to wipe out as low-down nest uh snakes as ever
-lived. I never lied tuh you. I ain’t lyin’ now. I’m givin’ you a
-fighting’ chanct tuh make a getaway. Take it er leave it.”
-
-“You mean yo’re double-crossin’ me and Fox?” said Black Joe, his
-words falling slowly.
-
-“I mean that I’m wipin’ my slate clean afore I resigns as sheriff.
-Wipin’ it clean, regardless uh what it costs. I’m givin’ you a
-chanct tuh leave me and these two boys here and git out. Do yuh take
-it?”
-
-Kipp’s eyes were fixed on a battered alarm clock. The half hour was
-up. Tad would be starting. Even if he had a gun to fire a signal
-would only be putting Black Jack on guard. Tad would come
-cautiously. Fate would decide.
-
-A calculating gleam flashed in the breed’s eyes. Documentary
-evidence to a criminal is a dangerous weapon. Dead men may tell no
-tales, but a written statement is as a voice from beyond the grave.
-
-“Looks like yuh hold all the winnin’ cards this deal,” he said
-flatly. “Yuh shore out-figgered Fox when yuh planted them papers in
-yore safe tuh cover yore trail. I suppose yore friend Hank Basset
-holds the combination.”
-
-It was a shrewd bit of calculating and Black Jack’s acting was
-without fault. He was playing for the highest stakes a man may
-wager: Life and freedom. Never did a gambler play more shrewdly.
-
-Kipp, physically and mentally worn to the breaking point, was caught
-off guard.
-
-“Yes, and Hank’s the man that’ll see justice done. I——”
-
-Black Jack’s ugly laugh caught the sheriff up short. Too late, he
-realized the mistake he had made.
-
-“Bill,” ordered the breed quickly, “take a man and ketch the fastest
-mounts in the _remuda_. Ride tuh town and bust open that cracker-box
-safe. Bring all the papers that’s in it. Tell Fox tuh play safe fer
-a spell. Tell him that Alder Gulch’ll be needin’ a new sheriff.
-Kipp’s dead.”
-
-Bill and another man slipped outside and closed the door behind
-them. There now remained but two outlaws besides Black Jack. One of
-them was in a corner on a bunk, moaning from the pain of the broken
-arm Pete Basset had given him.
-
-Where was Tad? That was the sole thought in Joe Kipp’s mind now. The
-departure of Bill and the other man lessened the odds.
-
-“Better hog-tie the blattin’ old fool,” suggested Black Jack a
-moment later to the man who squatted against the closed door, a .45
-in his hand.
-
-“Lemme roll a smoke first,” requested Kipp, reaching for tobacco,
-hoping to delay things till Tad showed.
-
-The man who had gotten to his feet hesitated.
-
-“Tie him, I said. Smoke be——”
-
-Kipp leaped forward. A clubbed gun caught the old officer across the
-jaw, whirling him about. Another blow from the man’s gun while Black
-Jack looked on in scowling approval. Kipp sank limply to the floor.
-
-“Neat work. Now tie him afore he comes to. I’ll learn him what
-happens tuh them that loses their guts in this game.”
-
-
-
-
-XI
-
-
-“Half a hour and nary a sign uh Kipp.”
-
-Tad shoved his watch back in his overall pocket and swung into the
-saddle. He mentally berated himself for letting Kipp out of his
-sight. Here on strange ground, on a dangerous mission, he had thrown
-away his only vantage when he allowed the sheriff to go on alone.
-Kipp had as much as admitted that he had been playing a crooked
-game. What was to keep him from adding one more misdeed to those of
-the past?
-
-A shot from the brush, well aimed, and no one the wiser. These LF
-men were playing a desperate game for big stakes. They would not
-hesitate to kill a cowpuncher to gain their ends and avoid
-detection. Capture, for them, meant life imprisonment. Kipp admitted
-being on friendly terms with them. His every action showed plainly
-that this was not the sheriff’s first trip into the Pocket.
-
-With these annoying thoughts to bear him company, Tad rode on, rode
-with a .45 in his hand and his eyes scanning every blurred shadow
-beneath the cottonwoods. The big hand that held the gun did not
-shake. There was not a trace of fear nor weakening in the keen eyes
-that swept the trail ahead. He faced his future without flinching,
-with splendid disregard of the heavy odds against him.
-
-Years before, Goliad and the Alamo had known such men. They came
-from that heroic stock that followed Moses Austin to the Brazos
-River. No braver men ever lined sights amid spattering bullets than
-these Texans. So, as his sires had faced their enemies, so now did
-this son of Texas ride his trail.
-
-The ears of his horse twitched forward. The animal halted and Tad
-was on the ground, crouched in the animal’s shadow. Ahead in the
-trail gaped the pit that had trapped Kipp. On the edge of the black
-hole lay a hat. Kipp’s battered old felt.
-
-A moment’s cautious search proved the pit empty. Tad left his horse
-in the brush, removed his spurs and chaps, and, Winchester ready,
-slipped on afoot, avoiding the main trail as much as possible.
-
-Voices and the creak of saddle leather. Tad crouched in the shadow
-to put the approaching riders against the skyline. He could hear
-them talking now. Bill and his companion, bound for town. They spoke
-in low tones, barely audible to the listener.
-
-“Black Jack’s carryin’ this too —— far tuh suit me, Bill. I draws
-the line at murder, sheriffs especially. Once clear uh these
-bad-lands, I’m quittin’ the flats. Kipp’s plumb right, he’s holdin’
-a paw full uh jokers, even if he dies a-holdin’ ’em. No more breeds
-fer me. They’re too danged coldblooded. Wait a minute while I
-tighten my cinch. This hoss swells up like a poisoned pup when yuh
-saddle him.”
-
-The two halted but a few feet from where Tad crouched. One of them
-swung to the ground.
-
-“Supposin’ we skirt town complete, pardner?” suggested Bill. “If we
-warns Fox, we gotta go through with it er shoot it out with that
-buzzard. We know too danged much tuh be let run loose over the
-range. I ain’t cravin’ none tuh match myself with Luther Fox. He’s
-lightnin’ with a gun. Say we drifts east from the edge uh the
-Pocket?
-
-“Let this spread hold the sack. Black Jack ner Fox wouldn’t consider
-us if they was in a tight. That breed ’ud kill us the same as he
-aims tuh kill Kipp and Pete Basset and that short waddie. Say, them
-two kin shore scrap, mister. Only fer Slim a-lendin’ a hand, me’n
-the Apache would uh bin whupped neat. My hat’s off to ’em. Dang me
-if I don’t hope they gits away.”
-
-“Fat chance. The Injun is comin’ out in Black Jack. I wouldn’t give
-two-bits Mex. fer their chances.”
-
-They moved on, leaving Tad grinning in the darkness. The thought of
-Shorty and the others being in danger but made the lanky puncher the
-more cool. He waited impatiently until the two riders were out of
-sight, then moved on at a swifter gait.
-
-The lighted windows of the cabin showed ahead. Tad crept forward
-with the stealth of an Indian. A few moments and he was at one of
-the windows, peering inside the cabin.
-
-Shorty, Pete, and Kipp sat side by side, propped against the wall,
-legs stretched out in front of them. Kipp’s head sagged forward on
-his chest for he was still unconscious.
-
-In spite of the bruised and blood-caked condition of his face, it
-was visibly apparent that Shorty’s left cheek bulged with a huge wad
-of tobacco. Even as Tad looked, a brown stream shot forth from the
-bruised lips of the little puncher.
-
-“Missed him, Pete,” he grinned. “Gotta raise my sights. The range is
-plumb long and that spider’s crawlin’ kinda zig-zag like he was
-dodgin’. Bet another nickel on the next shot.”
-
-“Better put in the next few minutes sayin’ yore prayers, _hombre_,”
-said Black Jack, crossing to the stove to pour himself a cup of
-coffee. “A man as near the end uh the trail as you gents are, had
-orter be lookin’ fer a shallow crossin’.”
-
-“Injun,” said Shorty in his soft drawl, “when I’m cravin’ ary
-advice, I’ll ask fer it.”
-
-Another brown stream that barely missed the breed’s boot.
-
-“Owe yuh another nickel, Pete. That danged spider got plumb outa
-range. If yo’re honin’ tuh be of any he’p around here, Whiskers,
-herd that insect back this way.”
-
-Pete Basset, marveling at the little cow puncher’s superb nerve,
-thrust aside his worries and smiled faintly. Even the guard at the
-door eyed Shorty with approval.
-
-Slim, of the broken arm, groaned less loudly as he watched Shorty
-scan the dirt floor for another spider.
-
-A queer lump rose in Tad’s throat as he looked at Shorty’s battered
-features and saw the split lips twist in a grin.
-
-“The —— li’l’ ol’ game rooster,” mused the big puncher, racking his
-brain for a plan of attack.
-
-Kipp groaned feebly and opened his eyes. Black Jack, a cup of coffee
-in his left hand, leered into the sheriff’s pain-shot eyes.
-
-“Mebbe so that rap between the horns brung yuh around to some
-sense,” he said, fixing Kipp with narrowed gaze. “Had ary change uh
-mind while yuh was asleep?”
-
-“No.”
-
-“Yo’re forcin’ my hand, mind. I’ve gone too far tuh do any
-back-trailin’ in this game and you know it. I’m killin’ off these
-two gents because they know too much. They come a-huntin’ trouble
-and they got it, a hull bellyful. I sent word tuh Fox that you’d be
-killed. That was a lie. I’m keepin’ yuh here till that Basset deal
-is closed and I sell out tuh Fox. Then I’ll turn yuh loose, and me’n
-these boys is driftin’ to fresh range. I’m leavin’ yuh to settle
-with Fox if yuh got the guts tuh go through with it. I’ll be a long
-ways gone so yuh can’t do me no harm, but you kin make it hot fer
-Luther.”
-
-Black Jack chuckled at the cleverness of his plan. He drained his
-coffee at a gulp.
-
-“Want tuh be hung er shot, you two?” he asked the other two.
-
-“Yonder comes another spider, Pete,” said Shorty, ignoring Black
-Jack. “What’s the odds I don’t hit ’im?”
-
-But a moment before, while Black Jack was talking to Kipp, Shorty
-had looked up at the window and square into the eyes of his partner.
-Yet he had given no sign that he had seen Tad, save that his left
-eyelid had dropped in a covert wink. He did not glance again at the
-window lest he betray Tad’s presence. He guessed that Tad was alone
-and was waiting for the right moment to open the attack. Shorty felt
-sure that Black Jack would put up a fight, even if Tad’s gun covered
-him. He had seen men of Black Jack’s breed before.
-
-Death, to the breed, would be preferable to capture. Slim could
-still use a gun and the guard would fight. The light would be shot
-out and Tad would not shoot into the darkened room lest he hit a
-friend. It was a situation that would require generalship.
-
-“——, Black Jack,” put in the guard. “Hangin’s a lot uh bother. Let’s
-knock ’em on the head and throw ’em in the river. If their carcasses
-wash ashore, there’s no bullet holes in ’em and nobody tuh blame.
-They was drownded crossin’ the river, savvy?”
-
-“Mebbe yo’re right. We’ll pack ’em to the river like they are. Time
-enough tuh cut the ropes off ’em when we’ve got ’em knocked out.
-Slim, keep a eye on the sheriff while we’re gone. I’ll pack the
-little ’un.”
-
-Black Jack, his black eyes hard as flint, lips set in a thin line,
-stooped to lift Shorty.
-
-A brown streak of tobacco juice shot out, catching the breed
-squarely in the eyes. With a howl of pain as the stinging nicotine
-blinded him, the outlaw leader sprang erect, hands to his eyes.
-
-A shot, accompanied by tinkling glass. “Stick ’em up!” bawled Tad.
-
-The man bending over Pete whirled, shooting from the hip at the
-window. Tad’s shot caught the outlaw in the shoulder, spinning him
-about.
-
-“Watch the jasper on the couch, Tad!” yelled Shorty, rolling across
-the floor in twisting flops and striking the legs of Black Jack, who
-was groping for the table where the lamp stood. Cursing in a
-monotone, his eyes blinded and hot with pain, the half breed fell
-across Shorty’s form.
-
-Tad, gun in hand, sprang through the doorway. Black Jack shot
-desperately at the least sound, and Tad felt the air of a passing
-bullet. Tad leaped forward, the high heel of his boot crunching the
-breed’s gun hand into the dirt. The small bones cracked sickeningly
-and Black Jack cursed as he groped for the gun with his left hand.
-
-A streak of fire from the bunk. Slim’s bullet tore through the crown
-of Tad’s hat. Tad’s gun roared, tearing the .45 from Slim’s hand.
-
-“Both wings busted,” snarled Slim, and followed the statement by a
-string of curses.
-
-The other man was in a heap, whining and begging.
-
-“Kill the yaller coyote,” yelled Slim. “Kill the howling ——! Fight,
-you —— polecat!”
-
-Tad was on top of Black Jack now, his long arms swinging like flails
-as the breed fought like a trapped cougar. A terrific swing and the
-breed went limp.
-
-The powder smoke was stifling. Every man’s ears rang from the roar
-of the big calibered six-shooters. Slim was shrieking curses and
-begging some one to kill the wounded outlaw who put up so tame a
-fight.
-
-Tad cut Shorty’s ropes first.
-
-“Thanks, Ox,” grinned the little puncher. “Gimme that rope and I’ll
-tie that Injun. Where’s yore men, big feller?”
-
-“I come with Kipp. Quit a runnin’ off at the head, runt, and tie up
-that black-muzzled skunk afore he comes alive and makes me kill
-’im.”
-
-Pete and Kipp were quickly freed. They grinned their thanks and set
-to work silencing Slim and the other man.
-
-“Pete,” grinned the jubilant Shorty, “meet up with my ol’ Tad
-pardner. Homelier’n a muley cow, but we can’t all of us be han’some.
-Yuh done got here jest about time, feller. The Injun was kinda goin’
-on the notion that all good cow hands was dead ’uns and was rearin’
-tuh convert me’n Pete. I owes Peter twenty cents, Taddie. Bein’
-kinda nervous inside, I missed that —— spider every shot. I ain’t so
-good as I used tuh be at——”
-
-“Fer gosh sake, dry up, runt,” grumbled Tad. “Yuh dad-gummed li’l
-locoed idjit. Snuk off on me and overmatched yorese’f, didn’t yuh?
-I’d orter ’a’ let yuh git yore needin’s.”
-
-With a snort of disapproval, he turned to Kipp.
-
-The sheriff had moved to the open doorway and was staring with
-thoughtful eyes into the night. He turned as Tad’s hand rested on
-his shoulder. Together they stepped outside.
-
-“That —— hole ketched me, Ladd. The fall knocked me out and they had
-me foul when I come to. I done my best, which was a —— of a pore
-showin’.”
-
-“No man kin do more’n his best, Joe. It’s over now, let’s fergit
-it.”
-
-Tad shoved out his hand, but Kipp shook his head.
-
-“It ain’t over fer me, Ladd. I got my work cut out fer me. When I’ve
-done that work, I’ll shake hands if yo’re still in the notion.”
-
-“Meanin’ Fox and you locks horns?”
-
-“Partly that. When we bring this herd up outa the brakes, Fox’ll
-know that his game is lost. It’ll be either run er shoot it out, and
-he ain’t the runnin’ kind. It’ll be me er him, that’s all. The range
-is too small tuh hold us both.”
-
-Tad nodded.
-
-“I’m layin’ my bets on you, Joe.”
-
-“I’m obliged, pardner.”
-
-They turned and entered the cabin.
-
-              *       *       *       *       *
-
-There followed half an hour of cross-questioning the outlaw who had
-begged for mercy when he had been wounded. They learned that there
-were no more men to be accounted for. Tad told of the conversation
-he had overheard between Bill and his companion.
-
-“Then we got clear trail ahead,” said Kipp. “Bill’ll pick up the
-gent at the rimrock, bein’ they’re sorter pardners. We might as well
-bed down and take it easy till mornin’. We’ll take turns standin’
-guard. There’d orter be beds out under the trees so’s them as ain’t
-on guard kin rest. Come daylight, we’ll take the herd out and I’ll
-take the pris’ners tuh Hank’s place.”
-
-This plan met with hearty approval. Not a man there but needed rest.
-Tad took first guard.
-
-Black Jack, conscious now, had lapsed into a sullen silence. His
-black eyes were opaque, his bearded features expressionless. No
-amount of questioning could open his thin lips.
-
-“That’s the Injun in him,” grinned Shorty as he and Pete followed
-Kipp outside in search of beds.
-
-“My work is done, Sheriff,” smiled Pete Basset when Shorty was out
-of earshot. “I’m giving myself up to you. I’m ready to go back to
-Deer Lodge.”
-
-“Better wait a day er so, Pete. I’m too danged busy tuh fool with
-yuh right now. Keep yor gun fer a spell. It may come in handy.
-Fox’ll have men with him when we meet up with him at the lone
-cottonwood to pay off yore dad’s note. This show ain’t over. Till it
-is, yo’re plumb free, savvy?”
-
-“That’s white of you, Sheriff. I’ve had a hunch for a long time that
-you were in cahoots with Fox and his gang. Black Jack’s recent talk
-clinches that suspicion. Also, it’s plain that you’re breaking with
-the LF. I want you to know that I’m for you.”
-
-Beyond the cottonwood grove near the corrals, Shorty was jerking the
-saddle from his tired horse and staking the animal out where the
-grass was high. He sang as he worked:
-
-    “Parson, I’m a maverick, jest runnin’ loose an’ grazin’,
-      Eatin’ where’s the greenest grass and drinkin’ where I choose;
-    Had tuh rustle in my youth an’ never had no raisin’;
-      Wasn’t never halter broke an’ I ain’t got much tuh lose;
-    Used tuh sleepin’ in a sack an’ livin’ in a slicker;
-      Church folks never branded me, I don’t know as they tried,
-    Wisht you’d say a prayer fer me and try tuh make a dicker
-      For the best they’ll give me when I cross the Big Divide.”
-
-
-
-
-XII
-
-
-At midnight Tad went outside to call Kipp for guard duty. He found
-the old officer sitting on a tarp-covered bed, smoking. “Herd’s a
-layin’ peaceful, Joe. I done found a jug uh licker and Slim and the
-yaller ’un has drunk theirselves tuh sleep. Black Jack’s the fust
-breed I ever run acrost that don’t tech t’rant’lar juice.”
-
-Kipp smiled absently and got to his feet. Tad was pulling off his
-boots already. The sheriff’s form was silhouetted against the
-lighted doorway for a moment, then the door closed.
-
-Tad, in the act of pulling off a second tight-fitting boot, paused,
-his wide brow furrowed in thought. For as long as a minute he sat
-thus. Then he pulled the boot back on his foot and donned its mate.
-He listened for a moment to Shorty’s snoring then, moving
-stealthily, Tad made his way to the cabin, crouching by the window,
-the glass of which had been broken earlier in the night.
-
-“Hurry up and cut these ropes,” Tad heard Black Jack command in a
-low-pitched tone.
-
-“No,” came Kipp’s answer.
-
-The sheriff’s voice sounded tired, the voice of an old man who
-carried too heavy a burden.
-
-“Yuh know what it means fer us both if I talk?”
-
-“Yes. I’ve done figgered it all out. I’m takin’ my medicine and
-givin’ you yourn. There ain’t no use talkin’. I’m goin’ through with
-this. I aim tuh come clean with the hull story. How you killed a man
-when he ketched yuh stealin’ hosses. How yuh got life fer it. How I
-filed the bars uh the window on that Los Cruces jail and staked yuh
-to a hoss tuh git away into Mexico. Yuh said you’d never bother me
-no more. I come north, changed my name and lets the past lay dead.
-Then you and this Fox hunts me out and makes me play yore dirty
-game. I’m tellin’ all that when the time comes. They kin do what
-they —— please with me. I’ll die in the pen knowin’ I’ve squared my
-accounts here on this side uh the Big Divide.”
-
-The breed made no reply. Tad, peering through the logs where a bit
-of chinking had dropped out, saw the sheriff squatted with his back
-against the door, a Winchester across his knees.
-
-Black Jack’s back was toward Tad. He could see the brown, muscular
-hands, one of them swollen and discolored, twist at the tightly
-knotted rope.
-
-“You’d bust the promise yuh made to a dyin’ woman?”
-
-“I’ve kept that promise,” replied Kipp slowly, “more than kept it. I
-reckon you know that as well as I do.”
-
-“Yes,” came the breed’s answer, “I reckon I do. You done yore share
-and more. I aim tuh do mine.”
-
-One of those brown hands had so maneuvered that it had slipped
-inside the waistband of the overalls and was hidden. Unseen by Kipp,
-it now came forth, holding a tiny derringer. Before Tad grasped the
-import of the breed’s intention, Black Jack had pressed the muzzles
-of the little double-barreled gun into his own back. A dull roar as
-the hammer fell and the soft-nosed .44 slug ripped its way upward
-through Black Jack’s spine and into his chest. A second thudding
-roar. Then the smoking gun dropped to the floor.
-
-Kipp was on his feet, staring strangely at the breed. Tad saw Black
-Jack’s face twist upward, white teeth showing in a twisted grin.
-
-“Yuh see I’m keepin’ my word,” said the breed through smiling lips.
-“I won’t bother yuh no more. I’m—goin’ now. So long.”
-
-The bearded head sagged forward. The body swayed sidewise. Kipp
-caught it and lowered him gently to the floor, dead.
-
-Tad, entering the cabin, saw dimly outlined in the blue smoke haze
-Kipp squatting beside the body of the dead outlaw, staring into the
-glazing black eyes of the half-breed who had made the old sheriff’s
-life a living hell.
-
-Kipp looked up. Tad was amazed to see the sheriff’s eyes wet with
-unshed tears.
-
-“He was my son, Ladd,” said Kipp simply.
-
-Tad stared stupidly for a moment, stunned at the sheriff’s words.
-Then he nodded understandingly. Slim and the other outlaw, stirred
-in their drunken slumber and slept on. Tad looked up to see Shorty,
-gun in hand, framed in the doorway.
-
-“Black Jack done killed hisse’f, Shorty,” Tad explained. “Pete
-awake?”
-
-“Awake and on the way, Tad. Yonder he comes, limpin’. Bet he stepped
-on a cactus in his sock feet.”
-
-“I reckon Joe wants tuh be left alone, pard. Tell——”
-
-“Hold on, Ladd,” said Kipp quietly, rising. “Let Pete come. The time
-has come fer explainin’ off a few things. Come in and set.”
-
-The three younger men, awed into respectful silence by Kipp’s
-gravity, did as he asked.
-
-“I won’t take long, boys,” Kipp began. “Ner will I try fer tuh git
-yore sympathy. Yonder lays my boy, the only child by a marriage that
-never should uh bin. She was Apache, I was a white man. We was both
-kids at the time and mistook lonesomeness fer love. We run off and
-was married down in Mexico.
-
-“When she run off with me, she outlawed herself from her folks. They
-hated white men. I was —— fool enough tuh think I could make her
-over into a white woman. —— knows she was purty enough and as decent
-as ary white gal that ever lived. But in the towns, the white women
-shied off from her. Men called me a squaw-man and treated me as
-such. We wa’n’t so happy as we might uh bin them days, and we stuck
-clost to the little cow ranch I had down on the border. Then the boy
-come and fer a while it looked like we was goin’ tuh be happy onct
-more.
-
-“But it didn’t last long. I was gone a heap, round-ups and hoss
-huntin’ and such. She was left alone on the ranch. There was a good
-lookin’ Mexican that used tuh drop in sometimes. Fancy outfit and
-always shaved and wearin’ of a clean shirt. He had money. I didn’t
-know till later that he made it sellin’ stolen hosses. She was a
-right purty little thing. I come in from a week’s work in the hills
-tuh find her gone. She’d took the boy, then a kid ten years old,
-with her.
-
-“I oiled my gun and hit their trail. But ——, they was plumb gone. I
-rode over half uh Mexico, then come home tuh find my cattle
-scattered and run off and nary hoss left. The Mexicans had stole me
-blind, durin’ the twelve months I’ve bin gone. Travelers has tore
-down my corrals tuh build camp fires. A rattler strikes at me as I
-steps into the gutted cabin which I’d called home, and I’m that low
-in speerits that I goes back to my hoss without shootin’ the snake’s
-head off. Keepin’ clear uh town er the ranches where I’m known, I
-quits that range fer keeps.
-
-“Cowpunchin’, ridin’ grub-line, breakin’ broncs, night-hawkin’, even
-takin’ a whirl at cookin’, and I’m driftin’ like a tumbleweed afore
-a norther. Doin’ my share uh drinkin’ and —— raisin’ with the rest,
-aimin’ tuh fergit that I got a wife an’ kid a strayin’ somewheres.
-But it ain’t noways easy tuh fergit and I keeps driftin’ back across
-the border hopin’ tuh cut their trail and always I got a shell in my
-gun fer the greaser that’s mavericked my wife an’ kid.
-
-“It’s ten years from the day they run off from me, that I finds
-Mister Mex. I’m ridin’ into a li’l’ ol’ Mex town when I hears
-shootin’. I rounds the corner uh the _adobe rurale_ fort in time tuh
-see a _rurale_ firin’ squad blowin’ the smoke from their carbines. In
-a heap against a _’dobe_ wall is my Mex, plumb full uh lead. They’ve
-done ketched him stealin’ hosses. His pardner, a ’breed kid, has out
-rode ’em and got away after killin’ three uh their men. That ’breed
-kid, understand, is my son.
-
-“That night I finds my wife down in a stinkin’, dirty _’dobe_ shack in
-Gopher town. She’s got fat and black lookin’ and she’s dyin’ from
-pneumonia. I stays by her till she dies. The kid, a good lookin’,
-black-eyed young tough, drifts in as she’s goin’ out. Not knowin’
-me, he stands there in the door a-coverin’ me till she tells him
-he’s linin’ his sights on his own dad. He’s there when I promises
-her to look after him and get him weaned off from his wild ways.
-He’s laughin’ at me and her when she closes her eyes and I feels her
-hand go limp in mine.
-
-“‘We’ll be startin’ fer Arizona when we’ve buried yore mother,’ I
-tells him.
-
-“‘The —— we will,’ he says, blowin’ cigaret smoke in my face. ‘You
-shore got a good imagination. Diggin’ graves is outa my fine uh work
-and yore ways is too tame fer me. I jest dropped in tuh git some
-ca’tridges and a bottle uh mescal. My father, eh? A —— of a father,
-you are. And —— yuh, don’t go tryin’ tuh reform me, _sabe_? Bury the
-squaw if yuh feel like it, then go back to where yuh belong.’
-
-“He steps out into the dark and is gone. The next time I sees him,
-he’s in jail at Los Cruces, bound fer Florence tuh serve a life
-sentence. I brings him some smokin’ and pays off his law sharp and
-figgers I’ve done my best. But he gits under my hide about this here
-promise I done made his mother. He swears he’ll quit the country
-complete and reform if I gits him loose. I weakens and that night I
-lets him out.
-
-“I changes my name and drifts to Montana, aimin’ tuh begin fresh and
-thinkin’ the kid has gone tuh South America and made a clean start.
-Fifteen years passes and I’m sheriff here. Then him and Fox shows
-up. The kid’s older now and his whiskers keeps me from recognizin’
-him.
-
-“Me and Hank Basset rides into the brakes follerin’ the sign uh the
-stolen cattle. We splits up. I gits my hoss shot out from under me
-and takes to the brush. I jumps this Black Jack sudden, shootin’ the
-gun outa his hand. I’m puttin’ the ’cuffs on him when he tells me
-who he is.”
-
-Kipp paused. His hands went out in a weary gesture.
-
-“You kin guess the rest, boys. Fox and him a houndin’ me. They tell
-me that the night uh the Los Cruces jail break, a deputy was killed.
-The kid shot him, like as not. Him er Fox who was in town at the
-time, dickerin’ fer stolen hosses that the kid brung across the
-line. But they’ve laid the killin’ on to me and I’m wanted down
-there. Likewise the kid plays on this promise I done made his
-mother, sayin’ how I done wrong by her all the way through and if
-he’d had the right kind uh raisin’ he’d uh turned out different.
-Mebbe so, by gittin’ Fox and cleanin’ up this gang, I kin make up a
-mite fer what or’nariness I’ve done. Then I’m goin’ back tuh Los
-Cruces and let ’em do what they want with me. That’s the hull ——
-story, boys. The story that’s writ in black and white and lays in my
-safe. I want that you should know this afore I meets up with Fox.”
-
-              *       *       *       *       *
-
-Opening the door, Joe Kipp stepped out into the night, his hair
-silvery white in the bright moonlight.
-
-“I wonder,” said Pete Basset, as if musing aloud, “what we can say
-to make him know we’re for him?”
-
-“Leave it tuh Tad,” whispered Shorty. “He kin do ’er. Hop to it,
-Taddie. Do it and I’ll give yuh them Chihuahua spurs yuh bin
-wantin’.”
-
-Tad gave his little partner a withering look, then stepped over to
-Black Jack’s dead body, looking down into the upturned face. Then he
-jerked the blanket off the snoring Slim and covered the body of Joe
-Kipp’s son.
-
-“I wish you would say something to him, Tad,” said Pete earnestly.
-“I’m afraid I’d make a mess of it.”
-
-“If I gotta, I gotta,” replied Tad grimly. “Shed them spurs, runt.”
-
-Tad met Kipp at the corral. He held out his hand to the old sheriff.
-
-Kipp’s eyes were misty as he gripped it. “That goes fer all of us,”
-said Tad simply.
-
-
-
-
-XIII
-
-
-Luther Fox swung a long leg across his saddle horn and thus at ease
-in his saddle, gazed at the rudely lettered sign nailed to the lone
-cottonwood. A cold cigar jutted from the corner of his thin-lipped
-mouth. The age-yellowed ivory butt of a long-barreled .45 poked
-itself from beneath the long tail of his rusty black coat. He
-removed the cigar from between his crooked teeth and sprayed the
-sign with tobacco juice. One or two brown specks were added to the
-already badly spotted white expanse of shirt front.
-
-“Barring —— and high water,” he addressed his two roughly garbed,
-heavily armed companions who had dismounted and squatted on the
-ground, “that sign will come off that tree before sundown.”
-
-“No more dead-line between Basset’s and the LF, eh, boss?”
-
-Fox nodded. The corners of his mouth twitching. Then he pointed with
-the butt of a home-made quirt to a small dust cloud, slowly
-approaching from the direction of the Basset place.
-
-“What do you make of it, boys? How many comin’?”
-
-“Two. Two hossbackers. Nary steer.”
-
-“That’ll be Basset and his sweet-tempered wife. We’re due to receive
-a tongue lashing, boys. —— a man that can’t do business without
-his —— cat of a woman tagging along. Killing’s too good an end for
-such females.”
-
-“I wonder where’s the cattle and them two waddies yuh hired, boss?”
-
-“Quit the country, no doubt. I sent a man over here yesterday to see
-’em. They’d pulled out and Basset was making no effort to gather the
-few head uh stuff he has on his range. As a matter of fact, Basset’s
-wife had the old fool penned off in the blacksmith shop.”
-
-Fox smiled faintly. The two punchers laughed coarsely.
-
-“Yuh aim tuh make a dicker fer the Basset iron, boss? Watch clost
-that ol’ Hank don’t sluff the ol’ lady off on yuh along with the
-brand.”
-
-Hank and Ma Basset came on slowly, their horses scuffing up puffs of
-yellow dust.
-
-The old couple looked tired and worried. Ma, dressed in bib
-overalls, flannel shirt, and an old slouch hat, filled her saddle to
-the point overflowing. Her eyes were a bit red as if from recent
-shedding of tears. Of the two, Hank looked the more downcast as they
-approached the lone tree that marked the boundary line. Low on
-Hank’s thigh swung a .45 in a weather-stained holster. Across Ma’s
-saddle pommel rested a sawed-off shotgun.
-
-“Looky here, Hank Basset, perk up. I don’t aim that Fox should see
-us down in the mouth. Land sakes, can’t yuh scare up a grin of some
-description to wear on yore face. You don’t see me sittin’ my hoss
-like a dogie in a blizzard.”
-
-At that moment her horse, an old flea-bitten gray, stumbled and went
-to his knees, jolting the breath out of Ma as her saddle horn jabbed
-her. Hank did his best to hide a grin. Ma, red-faced and gasping,
-gave him an angry look.
-
-“If that ain’t a cowpuncher for yuh! I do believe you’d laugh if I
-was to be killed by this crow-bait of a hoss. Now what’s so comical?
-What yuh grinnin’ at?”
-
-“Yuh ’lowed I was tuh perk up, Ma. I’m perkin’.”
-
-Hank’s hand, searching for tobacco, encountered Kipp’s sheriff
-badge.
-
-“Joe Kipp and the Ladd feller ’lowed they’d be here at noon today.
-The sun lacks half a hour uh throwin’ the short shadder. We ain’t
-licked yet.”
-
-“If ary harm had come to Pete, I’d feel it in my bones, Hank. What
-was it Joe Kipp said about that paper in his safe?”
-
-“He ’lowed it ’ud be useful to us.”
-
-“Huh! He mighta said more. Yonder’s Fox, lookin’ fer all the world
-like a turkey buzzard, drat him. I’d like tuh give that old
-skinflint a piece uh my mind. Set up straight, can’t yuh? Goodness,
-a person ’ud think you was a hunchback. If them new galluses is too
-tight, let ’em out a notch.”
-
-The couple approached the tree. Fox, his long leg still crooked
-across his saddle horn, lifted his hat with an air of mocking
-gallantry.
-
-“The dried up ol’ he school-marm,” muttered Ma Basset, freezing him
-with a hard stare.
-
-Fox’s head, bare as a billiard ball, disappeared beneath the
-wide-brimmed black hat.
-
-“I understood there was a bunch of cattle to be delivered here,
-Basset,” he said as if surprised to see no herd. “My two boys are
-bringing them, perhaps?”
-
-“Perhaps,” snapped Ma Basset. “’Tain’t noon yet.”
-
-“On such a beautiful Sabbath morning, we mortals should forget our
-quarrels, Mrs. Basset. I come on an errand of peace. Ours should be
-a relationship of neighborly friendship instead on enmity.”
-
-His bony hand indicated Basset’s sign. “It is my wish that such
-things should not exist, madam. In my pocket is your note. I would
-gladly destroy that bit of paper and seal, in that manner, our bond
-of mutual friendship. In return, I ask for something that is of
-little value. Namely, the transfer of your iron into my name. It is
-evident that but a handful of cattle in that iron exist. I am
-offering to lift the burden of debt from you in return for a brand
-that has no value.”
-
-“_Why?_” snapped Ma Basset.
-
-“That such ill feeling as is shown by yonder sign may be wiped away.
-You will be taken care of. Moreover, I shall myself make a plea to
-the governor of the State for an absolute pardon for your son. I
-wish to prove to you that Luther Fox is not the scoundrel you would
-have men think him to be.”
-
-His bony thumbs hooked in the armholes of his grease-spotted
-waistcoat, he attempted a yellow-fanged smile.
-
-“A buzzard chatterin’ like a magpie,” was Ma Basset’s audible
-comment to her husband.
-
-Fox’s yellow cheeks took on a pinkish hue. His eyes glittered
-venomously.
-
-“We ain’t askin’ no compromise, Fox,” said Hank. “The deal goes as
-she lays.”
-
-“So be it.”
-
-Fox bit off his words sharply. Pulling forth a huge watch, he held
-it in the palm of his hand.
-
-“You have exactly twenty-eight minutes to produce those cattle,
-Basset.”
-
-“And that’s a plenty, Luther Fox! Look yonder!” cried Ma Basset.
-
-Out of a long draw came a moving mass of stock. The faint sound of
-bawling cattle came to them. The brownish spot widened quickly,
-taking form as the herd spread out across the prairie.
-
-Fox went pasty white. The crooked smile on his thin lips vanished. A
-man seeing a ghost could look no more startled.
-
-“Something’s wrong as ——,” he muttered as his leg swung to catch the
-ox-bow stirrup. Beads of moisture stood out on his cheeks. His
-claw-like fingers shook as they wrapped about the ivory butt of the
-low-hung .45. He gazed as if fascinated at the oncoming herd.
-
-With those cattle came ruination and defeat. The absence of Kipp,
-Tad and Shorty was now accounted for. Somehow, they had gotten into
-the Pocket, killed or captured Black Jack and his men and were
-bringing out the stolen herd. The swift vision of a prison cell made
-him wince. He shut his eyes against it and his chin dropped to his
-chest. When he looked up a moment later, the color had come back
-into his lips. He turned to his two followers.
-
-“You’ll find fresh horses at the corral in town. It’s a forty-hour
-ride to the Canadian line. You’d better lose no time.”
-
-The two men gazed at him for a moment, then whirled their horses and
-were gone in a cloud of dust, without a word of parting. Fox now
-turned to Hank Basset and his wife who acted like people who moved
-in a dream, stupefied. With steady hand, Fox brought forth Hank
-Basset’s note and slowly tore it to bits. The scraps of paper
-fluttered to the ground.
-
-“It would be better if you rode back towards your ranch, madam. I
-bid you good day.”
-
-Ma Basset hesitated, her eyes moving from Fox to her husband.
-Something in Fox’s bearing silenced her usually ready tongue.
-
-“Better drift, Ma,” mumbled Hank.
-
-She turned her horse and rode away. The old horse, headed on the
-homeward trail, voluntarily quickened his pace and she gave him
-rein.
-
-Hank licked his dry lips and stared at Fox who had taken the .45
-from its holster and was spinning the cylinder, his eyes on a
-solitary horseman who had quit the herd and was riding toward the
-lone tree.
-
-“That will be Joe Kipp,” said Fox, his voice flatly emotionless.
-“For a man who has spent his life in the saddle, he sits a horse
-badly.”
-
-The white-handled gun went back in its holster. Then Fox rode to the
-cottonwood and with an abrupt movement, jerked Hank Basset’s sign
-from its place on the tree trunk.
-
-“You’ll have no further need of it, Basset, and the thing was an
-eyesore. The spelling was miserable. Should Kipp shoot better than
-he rides, bury me on the LF side of the tree.”
-
-Midway between the tree and the herd, Joe Kipp came on, his horse at
-a running walk. Fox, riding to meet him, halted for a moment to call
-over his shoulder to Hank.
-
-“A man may be a scoundrel, Basset, but still not be a coward.”
-
-Then he rode on.
-
-Those that watched saw the two men ride toward each other. Saw the
-gap between them lessen. Two puffs of white smoke appeared at
-precisely the same instant. Both men swayed drunkenly in the saddle.
-The horses, startled, leaped forward. The riders slipped to the
-ground to lie quietly, but ten feet apart.
-
-Tad was the first to reach the spot. He swung from his saddle to
-bend over Kipp. Fox, a red smear oozing from the hole between his
-eyes, lay face upward, his gun still clutched in his lifeless hand.
-
-“Is Kipp dead?” panted Shorty, riding up.
-
-Tad looked up, shaking his head. “Creased. He’ll come to directly.
-Fox’s bullet done parted his hair. The sun must’a’ somehow sp’iled
-the buzzard’s aim.”
-
-Hank rode up, panting as if from a hard run.
-
-“Toss me Kipp’s badge, Hank,” called Tad. “He’s done earned the
-right tuh wear it.”
-
-              *       *       *       *       *
-
-From Ma Basset’s kitchen came the savory odor of roast turkey,
-baking pies and coffee.
-
-In the front room, cotton covers had been removed from plush seated
-chairs and the place buzzed with conversation, generously punctuated
-by laughter. Holiday spirit prevailed.
-
-Shorty Carroway, scrubbed, shaved, resplendent in a suit of store
-clothes, was gradually becoming more red of cheek due to the
-confines of a shining celluloid collar.
-
-“That red tie uh yourn has slipped up under yore off ear, runt,”
-confided Tad, also in holiday garb, in a voice that carried the
-length of the room.
-
-Shorty rescued the truant tie and grinned wickedly.
-
-“Is it the style tuh wear one sock draggin’ low thataway when yuh
-got low water shoes on, Ox? Swap yuh this here Los Cruces letter uh
-Joe Kipp’s fer Pete Basset’s pardon paper. Dang me if I ever knowed
-so many big words could be herded together on one hunk uh paper.
-This judge gent in Los Cruces shore tells it scary. And them two
-reward checks fer Fox and Black Jack, man, they runs into real
-money. Joe ’lows the Black Jack reward goes tuh you.”
-
-“Fer gosh sake, dry up,” muttered Tad. “Don’t go sp’ilin’ Joe’s
-dinner, talkin’ about the breed. Where’n —— yore manners? And mind
-yuh, act purty when Miz Basset sets yuh alongside thet school-marm
-at the table.”
-
-Shorty squirmed, his glance darting to an angular maiden lady across
-the room. Tad chuckled softly.
-
-Joe Kipp, exonerated from the Los Cruces killing and recently
-returned from the border town, was in a corner with Pete Basset who
-had that morning made his triumphant return from Deer Lodge.
-
-Ma Basset and the school teacher were fluttering about the room
-collecting vacant chairs and setting the table. The school teacher,
-taking advantage of a lull in the operations, headed like a homing
-pigeon for the vacant place on the setee alongside Shorty. The
-little puncher grinned in a sickly fashion and swallowed hard.
-
-“We’ll have a chance to finish that thrilling tale of yours now,
-Mister Carroway,” she cooed.
-
-Shorty, catching Hank’s eye, sent a look of desperate appeal that
-might have brought results had not Tad interfered.
-
-“If there’s anything Mister Carroway loves, it’s relatin’ them
-hair-brained escapes uh hisn. Git him tuh tell yuh about the time he
-stumbled over Lafe Tucker’s tame polecat in the dark, ma’am.”
-
-Ma Basset, sensing Shorty’s agonized frame of mind, came to the
-rescue.
-
-“Hattie, if yuh don’t mind, will yuh put on the red napkins. I’m
-gettin’ that hefty that my feet kills me when I’m on ’em long.”
-
-She dropped into a chair and fanned herself with her apron.
-
-Hattie reluctantly obeyed and Ma winked at Shorty. The little
-puncher grinned his thanks.
-
-Hank Basset, who had been hovering in the vicinity of the cupboard
-where Ma’s bottle of snake-bite cure was concealed, caught Joe
-Kipp’s eye and a meaning glance was exchanged.
-
-“Ma,” said Hank, sniffing audibly, “ain’t them biscuits burnin’?”
-
-                           THE END
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-<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Paid Off, by Walter J. Coburn</div>
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-</div>
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Paid Off</div>
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Walter J. Coburn</div>
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: March 08, 2021 [eBook #64757]</div>
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div>
-<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Roger Frank</div>
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PAID OFF ***</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter portrait'>
-    <img src='images/illus-001.jpg' alt='title page' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='section' style='text-align:center;'>
-<div>ADVENTURE</div>
-<div>July 10, 1925</div>
-<div style='margin-bottom:2em;'>Vol. LIII, No. IIII</div>
-
-<h1>PAID OFF</h1>
-
-<div>A Complete Novelette</div>
-
-<div>By</div>
-<div>Walter J. Coburn</div>
-<div style='font-size:0.8em'>Author of “The Grub Line,” “Deuce High,” etc.</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2>I</h2>
-
-<p>“Bow-legged runt, eh? And my Skewball pony’s a crow-bait, eh? And I’m
-too &#8212;&#8212; small for a growed-up man tuh tackle, am I?”</p>
-
-<p>Each grunting, panting question was punctuated by a stinging slap.
-Shorty Carroway’s breath came in gasps from between a pair of bruised,
-bleeding lips.</p>
-
-<p>His weight resting on the heaving chest of the big man under him,
-knees jammed into the bulging muscles of that beaten man’s forearms,
-Shorty’s full-swung slaps jolted the swollen, battered face. Then the
-little cowpuncher’s hand gripped the shock of hair and raised the big
-head from the sawdust-covered floor.</p>
-
-<p>“Got a plenty?”</p>
-
-<p>Shorty shifted his weight to one side and a sharp-roweled, long-shanked
-spur raked the ribs beneath the big man’s heavy mackinaw. He grinned
-mirthlessly into the bloodshot eyes of the heavyweight champion of the
-Little Rockies.</p>
-
-<p>“Yuh made a crack a few minutes ago that you was the toughest gent in
-Montana,” grunted Shorty. “Yuh took in too much range, yuh sway-backed,
-muscle-bound, stove-up ox. Well I’m from Arizona, <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>sabe</i>? And down there,
-we got cripples that kin lay aside their crutches and whup you. Yuh
-picked on me because I’m kinda small and a stranger, and yuh grabbed
-yorese’f a handful uh hornets, didn’t yuh? Got a plenty, &#8212;&#8212; yuh?”</p>
-
-<p>Another slap sent the miner’s head back into the sawdust.</p>
-
-<p>Tad Ladd, partner of the fighting cowpuncher, paced up and down before
-a crowd of miners and cowpunchers who crowded backward behind the
-battered pool table and abandoned faro layout.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s my li’l’ ol’ runt of a pardner, yonder,” he taunted the surly
-crowd. “My danged li’l ol’ bench-legged pard. Watch him, <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>hombres</i>!
-Watch him clost while yuh see yore Alder Gulch champeen git his
-needin’s. Got ary more sledge-swingin’, snuff-eatin’, loud-mouthed
-fightin’ men that wants tuh git worked down to Shorty’s size and whupped
-by a gent that does it scientific? Got ary more nasty remarks tuh make
-about the ponies that me and my pardner rides? Got ary&#8212;&#8212;”</p>
-
-<p>“What the &#8212;&#8212; goes on in here?”</p>
-
-<p>The voice came from the doorway in no uncertain tones. A gray
-mustached, white-haired man of stocky build stepped through the
-swinging doors. To the lapel of his open vest was pinned a sheriff’s
-badge. A blue-barreled .45 covered Tad.</p>
-
-<p>Behind the sheriff stood a mottle-faced, white-aproned man in shirt
-sleeves. The man’s clothes were torn and dust-covered. His pudgy
-hands and mottled face were covered with small cuts.</p>
-
-<p>Tad shoved his gun back into the waistband of his faded overalls. He
-grinned pleasantly at the sheriff, nodded, then his grin widened as he
-looked at the portly man in the discolored apron.</p>
-
-<p>“So yo’re back, eh?” he said pleasantly. “Jest like a danged
-jack-in-the-box. I pitch yuh out the window and yuh come back through
-the door.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad turned to Shorty, who, heedless of the interruption, was lending
-an attentive ear to the pleadings of the whipped miner.</p>
-
-<p>“Let up on the big rock-buster, Shorty,” he called. “John Law has done
-took chips in the game.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad’s words had much the same effect as a bucket of ice water thrown
-on a couple of fighting dogs. Shorty got to his feet, felt of a
-discolored and partially closed eye, and reached for papers and
-tobacco. He grinned uneasily into the cold-blue eyes of the sheriff.</p>
-
-<p>“Hand me my gun, Taddie,” he said, his breath coming in labored gasps.
-“We’d jest as well be moving along, I reckon.”</p>
-
-<p>But the sheriff blocked the exit.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m takin’ charge uh the shootin’ irons,” he said sternly. “Ante, big
-’un. Butts first. Thanks.”</p>
-
-<p>He shoved the tendered weapons into his waistband.</p>
-
-<p>“Will you two come peaceable er do I put the ’cuffs on yuh?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yuh mean we’re arrested?” gasped Shorty.</p>
-
-<p>“Yuh don’t think fer a minute that you trouble hunters kin come into my
-town, bust out windows and raise &#8212;&#8212; in general, and not see the inside
-uh my jail, do yuh?”</p>
-
-<p>Shorty turned a sorrowful gaze on his big partner.</p>
-
-<p>“Kin yuh beat it, Tad? Kin yuh ever tie it? Looks like it’s ag’in the
-law tuh trim down oxes like that bohunk settin’ yonder, a-feelin’ his
-sore spots. Down home there’s a bounty on ’em.”</p>
-
-<p>“But we’re a long ways from home, runt. And as the sayin’ goes, we has
-fell among strangers. Montana ain’t Arizona and our
-footin’ ain’t so &#8212;&#8212; solid as she might be.”</p>
-
-<p>“But dang it all, Sheriff,” pleaded Shorty, “the low-down skunk was
-blackguardin’ my Skewball pony. The best hoss, barrin’ none, that ever
-packed a cow hand. Yuh seen him outside? Bald-faced black with stockin’
-legs? The fastest cow pony north uh &#8212;&#8212; is Skewball, and I ain’t aimin’
-tuh have no quartz-clawin’ pick-rassler hoo-rawin’ me regardin’ him!
-I’ll gouge his eyes outa him an’&#8212;&#8212;”</p>
-
-<p>Tad’s restraining hand kept Shorty from renewing the fight. The crowd
-surged forward angrily.</p>
-
-<p>“Easy, runt,” cautioned Tad. “Yuh won yore fight. We’re plumb
-overmatched.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why the &#8212;&#8212; don’t you take ’em to the hoosegow?” whined the
-white-aproned saloon man. “They’ll be gettin’ away if yuh ain’t
-careful.”</p>
-
-<p>“I reckon not,” said the sheriff. “I got their guns.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yo’re plumb welcome to the smoke-poles, Sheriff,” grinned Tad.
-“Neither uh the durned things is loaded. Like our pockets, our guns is
-empty, as the sayin’ goes. Likewise, our bellies. I hope yuh feeds
-yore pris’ners. We ain’t et since day afore yesterday.”</p>
-
-<p>The sheriff gave the pair an odd look, then herded them outside. They
-almost collided with an extremely tall, black-clad man who stood on
-the sidewalk. The man had evidently been taking in the scene from
-outside. His height permitted him to see over the short, swinging
-doors into the saloon.</p>
-
-<p>The long-tailed black coat, white shirt and black string tie gave the
-tall man the appearance of a minister. The man’s face, however, belied
-such a worthy calling. Lean, thin-lipped, unsmiling, it was a face
-without a single redeeming feature. His eyes were small, a pale gray in
-color, set close together on each side of a thin beak of a nose.</p>
-
-<p>A wide-brimmed, weather-worn black Stetson covered the head that Tad
-felt sure must be bald. The man’s reddish eyebrows met in a scowl as
-he met the cowpuncher’s frankly curious gaze.</p>
-
-<p>“I bet he’s a cross between a buzzard and a rawhide rope,” said Shorty
-as the sheriff shoved them along.</p>
-
-<p>“One uh these here fire an’ brimstone sky pilots gone wrong, is my
-bet. Which of us wins, Sheriff?” added Tad.</p>
-
-<p>“Neither.” The sheriff’s tone was sharp with annoyance. “You shore
-cooked yore goose with them bright remarks. Yuh’ll git the limit now
-when yore trial comes up. That was Luther Fox.”</p>
-
-<p>“And who,” inquired the punchers in unison, “is Luther Fox?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yuh mean tuh say yuh never heerd tell uh Fox?”</p>
-
-<p>“We’re plumb strangers, mister. Let’s have it. Both barrels.”</p>
-
-<p>“He couldn’t help hearin’ them remarks,” mumbled the sheriff, musing
-aloud. “Hmmm. &#8212;&#8212;’s tuh pay all around.”</p>
-
-<p>“But you was goin’ to tell us about this Fox,” hinted Tad.</p>
-
-<p>“Was I? I reckon not. I don’t talk to nobody about that gent.”</p>
-
-<p>The sheriff’s tone was decisive.</p>
-
-<p>Tad, glancing covertly at the old sheriff, caught a glimpse of tightly
-clamped jaws. Beneath shaggy white brows, the sheriff’s keen eyes
-smoldered with some inner fire. It was a dogged, sullen look,
-strangely out of keeping with the general make up of the grizzled law
-officer.</p>
-
-<p>“Yuh don’t mean tuh say that ole scarecrow has yuh buffaloed?” put in
-Shorty, wincing as Tad’s spur raked his shin with meaning vigor.</p>
-
-<p>The sheriff turned on Shorty, eyes ablaze with hot resentment.</p>
-
-<p>“Who said I was scared? Whoever told yuh that, lied. Lied, hear me?”</p>
-
-<p>The sheriff fairly trembled with fury. He seemed about to hit Shorty
-with the .45 in his hand.</p>
-
-<p>Tad, poised easily on the balls of his feet, clenched his big fist and
-his practised eye picked the point where the well-placed blow would put
-the sheriff to sleep. There was a look of resignation in the big
-puncher’s eyes.</p>
-
-<p>Then the sheriff, with an effort, regained control of himself and
-turned from Shorty. Tad gave a sigh of relief. Striking an officer,
-even in defense of his partner, was little to his liking.</p>
-
-<p>The trio moved on in silence for some moments. Tad, meeting Shorty’s
-eyes, gave his little partner a ferocious look. Shorty squirmed
-uneasily.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m askin’ yore pardon, Sheriff,” he said meekly. “I was jest tryin’
-tuh be funny. It was a fool crack to make and I’m plumb sorry.”</p>
-
-<p>His tone was sincere. The sheriff nodded his silent acceptance of the
-apology.</p>
-
-<p>“I reckon it’s shore gally uh me tuh be askin’ ary favors, Sheriff,”
-Shorty put in as they halted before the padlocked door of the log
-jail, “but would yuh kinda look after our hosses while me and Tad is
-penned up?”</p>
-
-<p>“Uh course,” agreed the sheriff. “Yore hosses will be took care of.
-Yuh won’t be needin’ ’em where yo’re goin’. Better sell ’em tuh git
-lawyer money.”</p>
-
-<p>“Is it goin’ tuh be that bad?” asked Tad seriously.</p>
-
-<p>“Wuss,” came the cryptic reply, and the two prisoners heard the click
-of the padlock as the sheriff locked them in.</p>
-
-<p>In dejected silence, the two listened to the receding tinkle of the
-sheriff’s spurs.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, my short-complected <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>amigo</i>, yuh shore done us proud this day,”
-Tad broke the silence. “You and that hair-trigger temper uh yourn kin
-shore git us into more trouble than ten judges and a herd uh law
-sharps kin git us outa. Yuh mighta put off the show till after we’d
-grazed some. I’m ga’ant as a dogie in the spring follerin’ a hard
-winter.”</p>
-
-<p>“And if I hadn’t took it up when that box-ankled shovel swinger
-insulted us, we’d uh bin run outa town for a coupla uh sheepherders.
-You was doin’ a heap uh yellin’ and so on, fer a gent that hates
-fightin’. It was you that busted that purty, shiny window by th’owin’
-that drink mixer through it. Yuh mighta slung him out the door, jest
-as easy, but no, yuh had tuh go bustin’ things. That glass’ll set us
-back the price of ten good drunks and a reasonable fine. Got ary
-terbaccer tuh go with this here brown paper, Ox?”</p>
-
-<p>Tad handed over a thin sack with a pinch of tobacco in the bottom.</p>
-
-<p>“Gimme butts on ’er, runt. It’s the tailin’s uh the last sack uh what
-was once a full caddy uh smokin. Fer which yo’re still owin’ me for
-yore half uh the price. Say, what ails that sheriff, I wonder? He
-like tuh busted a ham-string when yuh joshed him about that Fox
-feller. Shorty, there’s somethin’ danged queer about the whole deal.
-Raisin’ a li’l’ ol’ ruckus in yonder saloon ain’t no penitentiary
-offense. The way that ol’ sheriff took on, a man’d thought we’d killed
-a few folks. Is them bars yonder solid?”</p>
-
-<p>“Solid as rocks, Tad. Even if they was loose, we bin on short grazin’
-so long that we’re too weak to pry ’em loose. If the paint hoss hadn’t
-got drowned crossin’ the Missouri and our beds and grub got lost, we’d
-uh bin to the Wyomin’ line by now.”</p>
-
-<p>“And if you and that overworked temper uh yourn hadn’t broke out and run
-hog wild yesterday, we’d uh got a square meal and a job with that outfit
-we struck at noon.”</p>
-
-<p>“Work fer that spread after that black-muzzled wagon-boss asked me was I
-expectin’ boy’s wages and could I hold down a hoss wrangler’s job! I
-wisht yuh had let me finish workin’ that smart Aleck over, Ox. I was
-jest gettin’ my second wind when yuh drug me off him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Say!”</p>
-
-<p>“Huh?” Shorty, startled by the vehemence of his partner’s exclamation,
-turned from his inspection of the bars across the one window. “What
-bit yuh?”</p>
-
-<p>“I was jest rememberin’ that black-whiskered gent’s talk. Yuh mind,
-Shorty? He says to us that Luther Fox don’t pay out good money to
-undersized gents that can’t do a man’s work.”</p>
-
-<p>“Man’s work! I showed him what a man&#8212;&#8212;”</p>
-
-<p>“Dry up. Fergit it. Yuh don’t foller my meanin’. Luther Fox must own
-that cow outfit that Black Whiskers works for. <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>Sabe?</i>”</p>
-
-<p>“Uh-huh. And supposin’ he does? What of it? Go on from there, big ’un,
-and let’s see if yore words makes sense.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, from where I was settin’, that round-up looked like a big spread.
-They was holdin’ a herd that a man couldn’t shoot across. Looked like
-three hundred head uh hosses in their <i>remuda</i>. If this Fox feller owns
-that outfit, he’s one danged big cowman, and son, we shore set into a
-hard game if we’ve hurt the ol’ rannyhan’s feelin’s. I don’t like the
-lay uh the land, Shorty; None whatsomever.</p>
-
-<p>“If that ol’ wolf sets his mind to it, our hides’ll be hangin’ on the
-fence afore mornin’. Yeah. And if him and his black-muzzled wagon boss
-ever gits tuh makin’ medicine and the black gent ’lows we’re the same
-parties that rode into his camp and raised a ruckus, me and you is due
-tuh stretch some rope.”</p>
-
-<p>“That big bohunk of a quartz wrangler’ll be rearin’ tuh work in the
-lead uh sech a necktie party, too,” was Shorty’s wry comment. “What’ll
-we do, Taddie? Shucks, I hates tuh stay bogged down here till they
-come tuh hang us. I don’t have no &#8212;&#8212; of a lot uh confidence in that
-ol’ sheriff feller, if it comes to a fight.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yuh might uh done some heavy thinkin’ along them lines afore yuh got
-us into all this, yuh fire-swallerin’ li’l’ ol’ rooster. Now gimme
-butts on that smoke so’s I kin smudge some thoughts outa my brain.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2>II</h2>
-
-<div class='poetry'>
-<div class='stanza'>
-“‘Way up high in the Mokiones, among the mountain tops,<br />
-A lion cleaned a yearlin’s bones and licked his thankful chops;<br />
-When who upon the scene should ride, a trippin’ down the slope,<br />
-But High-Chin Bob of sinful pride and maverick-hungry rope.’”
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<img alt='' src='images/music.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>Shorty’s voice, loud and high pitched, filled the small cabin. For
-once, Tad found no fault with his partner’s singing. This, because
-the sound of the singer’s voice drowned out what noise Tad might be
-making as he whittled doggedly at the pine log wherein the iron bars
-of the window were embedded.</p>
-
-<p>Shorty, eyes fixed on the heavy pine door, sang with the air of one
-who does his duty in the face of great obstacles. Without missing a
-note, he gathered in a handful of whittlings and shoved the shavings
-under his hat, which lay on the floor. Then his toe poked Tad’s shin
-with none too gentle contact and the whittling ceased. Shorty,
-resuming his seat on the edge of the bunk, sang on, head tilted
-upward, eyes half closed.</p>
-
-<p>Thus the sheriff found them when he entered, bearing a heavily laden
-tray.</p>
-
-<p>They looked innocent enough, these two. Shorty, reclining on the bunk,
-Tad gazing broodingly out between the rusty bars in an attitude of
-silent dejection.</p>
-
-<p>“Ten o’clock breakfast, Taddie.” Shorty thus broke off his song. “Come
-and git it er I th’ow it away! Gosh a’mighty, Tad, it’s real grub!
-Steak and ’taters and pie! Sheriff, yo’re a plumb white man!”</p>
-
-<p>The sheriff grinned and set the tray on the table. The grin gave the
-old officer an almost benign appearance.</p>
-
-<p>“Have at it cowboys, afore she gits cold. It’s the best I could rustle
-at the Chink’s place. Yuh earned it, both uh yuh. My hat’s off tuh ary
-two gents that kin clean up Alder Gulch on empty bellies and with empty
-guns.”</p>
-
-<div class='figcenter landscape'>
-    <img src='images/illus-002.jpg' alt='map' />
-</div>
-
-<p>“Yuh ain’t holdin’ no hard feelin’s?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not me. Joe Kipp ain’t that kind. Personal, it done me good tuh see
-that big miner whupped. That &#8212;&#8212; bartender had it comin’ too.”</p>
-
-<p>“Gosh!”</p>
-
-<p>Tad swallowed a mouthful of food, washed it down with a swallow of
-coffee and eyed the sheriff in mild surprise.</p>
-
-<p>“’Pears tuh me like you’d had a sudden change uh mind, Sheriff. Yuh
-acted plumb ringy when yuh nabbed us.”</p>
-
-<p>“Folks was watchin’. The bartender had swore out a complaint and with
-Fox a-watchin’, I had tuh go through.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yuh mean this Luther Fox gent is after yore taw? He’s rearin’ tuh
-jump yore frame?”</p>
-
-<p>“Somethin’ like that. Him and me don’t waste no soft-spoke love words
-on one another.”</p>
-
-<p>He paused, scowling at the floor as if worrying out some problem.</p>
-
-<p>“There’s more than a few gents on this range that’ll tell yuh I’m scared
-uh Luther Fox and ‘Black Jack’,” he finished.</p>
-
-<p>“Black Jack?”</p>
-
-<p>“Fox’s wagon boss. Runs the LF spread.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad and Shorty exchanged grins. “Black-whiskered gent? Eyes like a
-Injun?”</p>
-
-<p>Kipp nodded.</p>
-
-<p>“You boys know him?”</p>
-
-<p>“We come by the LF round-up. Yeah, we know him tuh look at.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ain’t yuh the boys from the south?” inquired Kipp. “I see yuh both ride
-double-rigged saddles and yore hosses pack strange brands.”</p>
-
-<p>“We’re from Texas fust, Arizona after barb wire run us outa our home
-range. We come tuh Montana tuh close a deal that was hangin’ fire. Wound
-up our deal and was headin’ fer our home range when we loses our life’s
-gatherin’s in yore Missouri River. Pack hoss, bed, money, grub, the hull
-works goes. Shorty’s paint hoss which we’re packin’ makes a shore game
-fight, but ’twan’t no go. The undercurrent ketches him and he goes under
-and don’t come up no more.</p>
-
-<p>“I’d uh gone the same way only fer Shorty. Yuh see, me’n my yaller
-hammer hoss bein’ brung up in a windmill country, we ain’t neither of us
-used tuh water in sech big doses. Mebbeso I got Yaller’s cinch too tight
-er he gits water in his ears er suthin’. Anyways, he goes belly-up in
-the middle uh the crick and fer a spell it looks like me’n him’s
-a-headin’ fast fer the Big Range.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m a thinkin’ along them lines, as the feller says, when Shorty on his
-Skewball pony, bustin’ that water like a side gougin’ steamboat, jest
-nacherally ropes me, takes his winds and yanks me ashore. Yaller drifts
-to a sand bar and wades out while Shorty bails the mud and water outa
-me. Drunk er sober, my Shorty pard ain’t much tuh look at, but there’s
-times when he shows good p’ints.”</p>
-
-<p>“Shucks, Sheriff, don’t pay no mind tuh Tad,” grinned the self-concious
-Shorty. “He shore likes the sound uh his own voice. If yuh was tuh th’ow
-him and mouth him, yuh’d find his front teeth plumb wore down. That
-comes from his havin’ his mouth open fer talkin’ so much. The wind,
-a-blowin’ to and fro across his teeth, consequential, has wore ’em down.”</p>
-
-<p>The sheriff was beginning to like these two oddly mated partners
-thoroughly. He moved across the floor to a chair. As he did so, he
-accidentally moved Shorty’s hat, revealing the pile of whittlings.
-Shorty manfully stepped into the breach.</p>
-
-<p>Before the sheriff noticed, the little puncher had grabbed the handful
-of shavings and shoved them into his mouth.</p>
-
-<p>“Now swaller,” whispered Tad in an undertone, as he dropped his
-neckscarf on the sill to cover the freshly whittled notch at the base
-of the steel bar.</p>
-
-<p>Shorty swallowed, choked, gasped and his tanned face grew purple.</p>
-
-<p>Tad, moving swiftly, promptly up-ended Shorty, thumping him on the
-back with an unconcern that hinted of boredom. A wad of mashed
-potatoes, well wadded with shavings, spewed forth and Tad promptly
-kicked the sodden mass under the bunk.</p>
-
-<p>“Will yuh hand me the water pitcher, Sheriff? Thanks. Now irrigate,
-runt.”</p>
-
-<p>He held the pitcher to Shorty’s mouth and poured a generous potion
-down the little puncher’s throat. Then, with a paternal air, he sat
-Shorty on the edge of the bunk and loosened his collar.</p>
-
-<p>“Ain’t I told yuh, time and again, not tuh swaller yore grub whole,
-little ’un? Dang me if I can see how yuh ever growed up without
-chokin’ tuh death.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad turned to the sheriff with an apologetic grin.</p>
-
-<p>“In spite uh all I tell him, that li’l’ varmint will wolf his grub. It
-ain’t the fust time he’s choked down on me thataway. Onct, at a
-ice-cream sociable down on the Gila, a brockle-faced school marm,
-a-ketch-in’ him off his guard with a face full uh cake, ast him was his
-hair nacherally curly afore it slipped and left him bald between the
-horns. I’m out in the kitchen when the play comes up and he like tuh
-perished complete afore I gits there. The fiddler, a-thinkin’ the li’l’
-cuss had th’owed a fit, empties a pailful uh pink lemonade on him. I
-tips him upside down, knocks the hunk uh cake loose from where it’s
-lodged between his buck teeth and his briskit, and the show is over. We
-spends a good half-hour huntin’ the loose change which drops outa his
-pocket durin’ the proceedin’s. I bin thinkin’ serious uh knockin’ his
-teeth out so’s he’d have tuh graze on mush and sech light truck.”</p>
-
-<p>“Aw, let a man be, Ox,” grinned Shorty, buttering his fourth biscuit.
-“If yuh gotta run off at the head, tell about the time that Hash-Knife
-hoss crow hopped with yuh and yore set uh store teeth swapped ends and
-like tuh bit yore tongue off. Only for the hoss a-pilin’ yuh into the
-sourdough pan, you’d uh gone through life without a tongue. Yuh mind,
-Taddie, how that kettle-paunched ol’ cook run yuh outa camp fer
-sp’ilin’ his batch uh bread dough? He’d uh whittled yuh down tuh his
-size and whupped yuh, too, only I tripped him up. There’s times when I
-wisht I’d let that ol’ grub sp’iler ketch yuh.”</p>
-
-<p>A shadow passed the window. The grin on Kipp’s face vanished.</p>
-
-<p>“Here comes Fox,” he whispered. “Play yore cards keerful, boys. Yuh
-whupped the best man he has in camp, Shorty. And he’s done heard how
-Tad stood off his gang uh tough men with a empty gun. Down in that
-black heart uh hisn, he respects nerve like yourn. He may put yuh some
-kind of a proposition. Better consider keerful afore yuh turn it down.</p>
-
-<p>“He’s got yuh in a tight. He owns that saloon and the busted window.
-Fact is, he owns the camp. Reckon I’d better let him in now. He’s
-poundin’ out yonder fit tuh bust the door down.”</p>
-
-<p>With a faint, uneasy smile, Kipp rose and unbolted the heavy door.</p>
-
-<p>Luther Fox entered with one long stride. His gimlet eyes were fixed on
-the remains of the prisoner’s sumptuous dinner.</p>
-
-<p>“Fancy victuals that you give your prisoners, Kipp,” he spoke in a
-rasping, flat voice. “County payin’ for such grub?” Kipp’s eyes took
-on a chilly look.</p>
-
-<p>“I paid the chink outa my own pocket, Fox.”</p>
-
-<p>Luther Fox’s thin lips twitched at the corners. It may have been meant
-for a smile. Devoid of mirth, it seemed to accentuate the cruelty that
-lurked behind the pale-gray eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“I want that I should be left alone with these two men, Kipp. Clear
-out.”</p>
-
-<p>It was the command of a man who was accustomed to being obeyed.</p>
-
-<p>Tad, watching Kipp closely, saw the sheriff’s mouth tighten so as to
-leave the lips a bloodless, crooked line. For a long moment the officer
-and the cow man held each other’s gaze.</p>
-
-<p>“Fox,” said Kipp, measuring his words with deliberate slowness, “I’m
-sheriff here. This jail is county property. I leave here when I get &#8212;&#8212;
-ready. If yo’re aimin’ tuh smell powder smoke, go fer yore gun.”</p>
-
-<p>Fox’s upper lip lifted, revealing long, crooked, yellow teeth. They
-made the man hideous. His long fingers patted the butt of an
-ivory-handled .45 that swung in a tied holster, low down on his thigh.</p>
-
-<p>“Whenever I pull my gun, Kipp, this county will be in line for a new
-sheriff. However, it’s bad luck to kill an officer of the law. Our
-quarrel will keep without spoilin’. I’ll word my wishes differently.
-I’d like a few minutes pow-wow with your prisoners, Sheriff Kipp. Will
-you be so kind as to grant so great a favor?”</p>
-
-<p>His long frame bent at the waistline in a mocking bow. Rumor had it
-that Luther Fox, in his youth, had been a New England schoolmaster.
-Like rust corroding a steel blade, frontier contact had well nigh
-obliterated the polish that belonged to that former life. Occasionally
-it was visible, usually in the form of sarcasm.</p>
-
-<p>Kipp, with a visible effort, fought down the hot rage that surged up
-inside him. He turned on his heel and walked to the door. Without a
-backward glance he closed the door behind him.</p>
-
-<hr class='tb' />
-
-<img alt='' src='images/jail.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>Inside the jail, Tad and Shorty looked up with curious gaze at Fox and
-waited for him to break the silence that followed Kipp’s departure.
-Fox’s lips were again twitching at the corners. Otherwise, his
-expression did not change.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, what have you two got to say for yourselves?” he asked finally.</p>
-
-<p>Long legs far apart, bony fingers twisting in a knot behind his back,
-he glanced coldly at the two punchers.</p>
-
-<p>“It don’t look to me like it was our ante,” Tad grinned easily. “The
-sheriff tells us yo’re holdin’ the joker.”</p>
-
-<p>“Exactly. The way the play stands, I can either make or break you
-two.”</p>
-
-<p>He paused.</p>
-
-<p>“Spread yore cards, mister.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad forestalled the silence that Fox had anticipated, a silence during
-which he had expected to watch these two cow punchers squirm.</p>
-
-<p>A frown of annoyance brought his reddish brows together. He had rather
-expected to find the prisoners afraid and eager to please him. Instead,
-both were grinning as if they enjoyed the situation.</p>
-
-<p>“Very well,” he snapped. “I give you your choice. Either you go to the
-penitentiary or on the LF payroll.”</p>
-
-<p>“Penitentiary?” said Tad slowly. “Since when has it got tuh be a
-penitentiary offense tuh mix in a two-bit saloon fight?”</p>
-
-<p>“Assault with a deadly weapon means a stretch in the big house,”
-smiled Fox. “Crossing Luther Fox, you may find, is even a worse
-crime.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yuh mean you’ll railroad us, eh?” said Tad evenly. He seemed to be
-musing aloud. “Yeah, I reckon yuh could. Me’n my li’l’ pard is
-strangers in a strange land and plumb broke. Yeah, reckon yuh could do
-it, mister. Now supposin’ we take yuh up on the other proposition?
-Jest what kind uh work do yuh aim that me and Shorty should do tuh
-earn our pay? I might as well tell yuh now, Fox, our guns ain’t fer
-hire, if that’s yore game.”</p>
-
-<p>“The job I have in mind for you two is legitimate and within the law,”
-said Fox. “A rancher named Hank Basset owes me money. I hold his note
-for ten thousand dollars which falls due next week. It will be your
-job to ride to his ranch and collect that ten thousand dollars, in
-cash or steers. Since the man is broke, the payment will be made by
-turning over to me five hundred head of steers at twenty dollars per
-head.”</p>
-
-<p>“Mighty cheap cattle,” grunted Shorty. Fox shrugged.</p>
-
-<p>“Mebbeso. That’s beside the question. I am waiting for your answer and
-it ain’t healthy, as a rule, to keep Luther Fox waiting.”</p>
-
-<p>Fox fished a long stogie from his pocket, repaired its broken wrapper
-with a cigaret paper and set fire to it. His little eyes surveyed them
-through the haze of blue smoke. Tad turned to Shorty.</p>
-
-<p>“Supposin’ we leave it to the sheriff to decide fer us, pardner?”</p>
-
-<p>“Suits me, Tad.”</p>
-
-<p>Luther Fox’s eyes became pin-points of glittering gray through the
-smoke haze. His head thrust forward on a skinny neck, he peered at the
-two punchers. A sinister, hate-lined face, unchanging in expression.
-Behind his back, the long, bony fingers intertwined until the joints
-cracked.</p>
-
-<p>“&#8212;&#8212; old buzzard,” was Shorty’s inward comment.</p>
-
-<p>Without a word, Fox turned and strode to the door. He swung it open
-and shoved his head outside.</p>
-
-<p>“Come in here, Kipp,” he snapped. “You’re wanted.”</p>
-
-<p>Kipp, a stub of cigaret sticking from the corner of his mouth, rose
-from his squatting posture against the log wall of the jail.</p>
-
-<p>“Fox wants me’n Shorty tuh collect a bad debt from a gent named Hank
-Basset,” said Tad, coming to the point. “We ’lowed we’d leave it up
-tuh you.”</p>
-
-<p>Kipp nodded.</p>
-
-<p>“Kinda figgered he might pick you boys fer the job. Take him up on
-it.”</p>
-
-<p>“We’re obliged to yuh, Sheriff,” grinned Tad. “Mister Fox, yuh done
-hired two hands.”</p>
-
-<p>Again the twitching at the corners of Luther Fox’s thin lips.</p>
-
-<p>“Get your guns from Kipp and pull out. I heard your six-shooters were
-empty. You’ll find ammunition a-plenty in your saddle pockets.
-Likewise a Winchester apiece, in your saddle scabbards. Here’s an
-order on Basset for the steers.”</p>
-
-<p>He held out a folded paper. Tad shoved it in his vest pocket. Fox
-turned to the sheriff.</p>
-
-<p>“Kipp, these two men are now on my payroll. The charges against them
-are dropped. Give ’em their guns and let ’em go. They’re wasting LF
-time here and they have a long ride ahead. If you have any message for
-Hank Basset, carry it yourself, understand? My men are paid to carry
-out my orders, not to deliver your messages. I think, Kipp, that you
-savvy what I’m driving at, even if these men don’t.”</p>
-
-<p>“I savvy, Fox,” returned the sheriff evenly, as he handed Tad and
-Shorty their guns. He ushered them outside.</p>
-
-<p>“Boys,” he said, ignoring Fox, “I loaded both yore guns. Five shells
-in each six-gun, leavin’ a empty chamber under the hammers. When yuh
-ride away from Alder Gulch, jest remember this; them is good, honest
-ca’tridges, bought with clean, honest money. So-long and good luck.”</p>
-
-<p>Kipp nodded a brief farewell and reentering the jail, swung the door
-closed behind him.</p>
-
-<p>Tad and Shorty gave each other a puzzled look, then followed the
-scowling Fox toward the livery barn.</p>
-
-<p>In the corral adjoining the barn were their private horses, saddled.
-Also six more horses and a pack mule, the latter bearing a bed covered
-by a new tarpaulin.</p>
-
-<p>“That gives you three mounts apiece beside your privates,” Fox
-explained. “You’ll help Basset gather those steers. Use your own
-judgment about any difficulties that come up, the same as any regular
-‘rep’ would do. One week from tomorrow, I’ll meet you at the lone
-cottonwood on Rock Creek and receive the cattle. I don’t want either
-of you to forget that you’re drawin’ LF pay, and top wages at that.
-You’ll govern yourselves accordingly.”</p>
-
-<p>“Uh-huh,” grinned Tad. “Top wages, Fox, but not fightin’ wages. Me and
-my pardner is peaceful fellers lessen we gits tromped on. We don’t
-travel none on our shapes ner lead-slingin’ qualities. We ain’t wanted
-no place fer no crime and we don’t figger on leavin’ this country with
-a posse follerin’ us. We’ll gather them steers, but we won’t fight
-none tuh hold ’em. I bin punchin’ cows long enough tuh know that
-there’s a nigger in the woodpile somewheres on this deal er you’d
-either gather them steers yorese’f er send some uh yore regular hands
-tuh do the job. We taken the sheriff’s say-so about hirin’ out and
-we’ll see the play through to the last card, but we ain’t doin’ no
-dirty jobs fer no man, mister.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad had swung aboard his horse and sat slouched in the saddle,
-watching Fox.</p>
-
-<p>“Get the cattle and I’ll be satisfied,” replied Fox. “Yonder’s the
-trail. Basset’s home ranch lays at the foot of that hazy peak. You
-should make it by daylight tomorrow. Follow this trail till you come
-to the lone cottonwood, where the trail forks. Take the right hand
-trail.”</p>
-
-<p>Shorty swung open the pole gate and Tad hazed the horses into the
-open.</p>
-
-<p>Legs spread far apart, hands clenched behind his back, Luther Fox
-stood in the dusty trail and watched them out of sight. Once more the
-corners of his cruel mouth twitched oddly. As he watched the rapidly
-fading dust cloud that hid the partners, his eyes glittered with a
-look of cunning.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2>III</h2>
-
-<img alt='' src='images/star.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>“I dunno jest why, Tad,” Shorty broke the silence, “but I shore feel
-sorry fer that Kipp gent. He’s right old tuh be pestered by a skunk like
-Fox. His nerves ain’t so steady as they once was. I seen his hand shake
-when he called Fox’s hand. A man can’t do good shootin’ when his hand
-shakes, Tad.”</p>
-
-<p>“He’d a played his string out though, Shorty. Even when he knowed Fox
-’ud beat him to the draw. Kipp’s game, and I reckon that’s why we
-kinda cottoned to him. Besides, he shore fed us good. I’m wonderin’
-what he meant by sayin’ he’d put honest ca’tridges in our guns? Reckon
-we’re nosin’ into a range war? Danged if we don’t git into more jams
-than a burglar. Yonder’s the lone cottonwood.”</p>
-
-<p>The sun had just set and the rolling hills were bathed in the subdued
-afterglow. The greasewood flat beyond took on the appearance of a
-dark-green carpet. Distant peaks reflected the last rays of the sun. A
-covey of sage hens whirred from the brush in front of the horses, then
-dropped out of sight. Tad and Shorty pulled up in front of the giant
-cottonwood, eyes fixed on a rudely lettered sign nailed to the wide
-trunk, a sign riddled with bullets.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0; margin:0.7071em 10%'>Warning to LF men. This
-here tree is my north boundry. The line runs due west to Squaw Butte.
-Ary Fox man that crosses that line will be huntin’ trouble and he’ll
-shore find it. HANK BASSET.</p>
-
-<p>Tad waved a hand toward the sign.</p>
-
-<p>“Yonder’s the reason why me and you are picked fer the steer-gatherin’
-job, runt. I knowed there was a ace hid up Fox’s sleeve. What do yuh
-say, pard? Do we turn back from here er go through with it?”</p>
-
-<p>“We done hired out fer the job, Tad. Let’s play our string out.
-Shucks, I’d hate tuh be bluffed out by ary sign.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad nodded thoughtfully.</p>
-
-<p>“Kipp aimed that we should go through. There’s more to this play than
-a bad debt, and I’m right curious tuh turn the next page. Haze that
-hammer-headed, pack-slippin’ mule on to the trail and we’ll git goin’,
-pardner. I’m rearin’ tuh git a squint at this here Basset <i xml:lang="es-MX" lang="es-MX">hombre</i>,
-providin’ he ain’t linin’ his sights on my briskit. Likewise, li’l’
-’un, bear this in mind. Don’t go clawin’ fer no gun iffen we gits
-jumped. Set tight and lemme augur ’em some. We ain’t crossin’ this
-dead-line tuh burn powder. If it comes to the wust and there’s no
-other way outa the tight, we takes our own parts like gentlemen. We
-ain’t huntin’ no trouble and, on the other hand, we ain’t stoppin’ no
-soft-nosed bullets with our carcasses if we kin keep from it. And git
-a tail holt on yore ingrowed temper, <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>sabe</i>? The fust sign I reads uh
-you comin’ to a boil and buckin’ yore cover off, I knocks yuh between
-the horns. Hear me, runt?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yeah. I hear yuh. Yo’re bellerin’ fit tuh be heard a mile. I ain’t
-growed deef on this trip. Fer a forty dollar a month cow hand, yuh
-shore kin git shet of a heap uh advice. I’ll remind yuh about it when
-yo’re yellin’ fer me tuh pull this Basset feller off yuh. Git along,
-mule.”</p>
-
-<p>Hours passed and the moon rose. If the future held any fear for these
-two followers of the dim trails, they gave no sign. Shorty rode in the
-lead, picking the trail. Sometimes he sang and as the words of the
-lament drifted back to Tad, the lanky puncher grinned his appreciation
-and hummed an off-key accompaniment. Now and then they dozed, heads
-swaying gently with the movements of their horses. Innumerable
-cigarets were rolled, smoked and the butts pinched out. Thus the night
-wore on and the first streak of dawn found them halted before a pole
-gate.</p>
-
-<p>Beyond the gate, lining the near-by creek, were innumerable tall
-cottonwoods. A thin spiral of smoke lifted from the chimney of a
-hidden cabin. Twenty feet beyond the gate was a buck-brush thicket.
-Not a sound broke the quiet of the morning.</p>
-
-<p>Shorty leaned in his saddle to pluck forth the wooden pin that held
-the gate closed. A moment later he straightened.</p>
-
-<p>“She’s locked with a stay chain and padlock, Tad,” he called softly.</p>
-
-<p>“Reckon we better call out afore we goes further with the game.
-Haloooooo!”</p>
-
-<p>He raised his voice in a wolf-like howl. Followed a moment of silence.
-Then, in an ordinary tone of voice that caused both punchers to jump
-with surprise, a man called from the brush patch:</p>
-
-<p>“Hello yoreself. Jest set where yuh be till we looks yuh over a spell.
-Keep the little ’un covered with the shotgun, Ma.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll make a sieve outa him if he makes ary move, Hank. ’Tend to the
-big feller. Know either of ’em?”</p>
-
-<p>“Nope. Light’s too dim yet tuh read the brands on their hosses but
-ain’t that paint hoss the LF hoss we seen in town last week?”</p>
-
-<p>“&#8212;&#8212; a’mighty, Tad,” groaned Shorty in an uneasy voice. “Start a
-talkin’ afore we’re killed complete.”</p>
-
-<p>“We’re plum peaceful, mister,” called Tad. “That’s a LF hoss and so is
-the others, but hold yore fire. We come here tuh&#8212;&#8212;”</p>
-
-<p>“To finish robbin’ honest folks, eh?” snapped a feminine voice that
-carried the sharp edge of a newly whetted knife. “LF men, eh? Come to
-do the dirty work of that pole cat, Luther Fox! Gun toters, by the
-looks of yuh. You seen the sign on the cottonwood?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes’m, but we ain’t&#8212;&#8212;”</p>
-
-<p>“Shetup! Quit interruptin’ a lady. Hank, watch that big gent, he’s got
-a mean eye. Dim as the light is, I kin see it. You there, little
-feller, keep them hands where they belongs. There’s eighteen buckshot
-in both these barrels and I’m takin’ a rest across this boulder. Come
-to git them cattle that’s due Fox?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes’m. But we ain’t cravin’ no trouble ma’am, leastways, not with
-women-folks. Joe Kipp, the sheriff, ’lowed that we should come.”</p>
-
-<p>“Huh!” snorted the hidden lady. “And what under the sun and seven
-stars has that old sage hen got to say about it? If Kipp had the
-gumption of a rabbit, he’d run the hull LF pack outa the country. He’s
-stood by like a lump on a log and seen a pore ol’ couple git robbed uh
-their eye teeth, and never once raised a finger to stop it. He don’t
-dast set foot on the place, he’s that ashamed uh hisself fer&#8212;&#8212;”</p>
-
-<p>“Hush, Ma,” cut in the voice of Hank Basset. “Joe done his best by us.
-His hands is tied, drat it, the same as ours is. Now, big feller, how
-come that Joe Kipp ’lowed that you should come here? Don’t try no
-lyin’ er we turns loose these shotguns. Yuh read the sign on the
-cottonwood and me’n ma is within’ our rights when we shoots. Git tuh
-talkin’, dang yuh.”</p>
-
-<p>“Me’n my li’l’ pardner is strangers, Basset, and we ain’t takin’ up no
-man’s fight fer him. Kipp done told us tuh take Fox up on it, when Fox
-give us the offer uh the job. We was in jail at the time and the ol’
-buzzard was aimin’ tuh cold-deck us into the pen, savvy? It was either
-take this job er go over the road fer a few years. We ain’t doin’
-dirty work fer no man, mister. We’re cow hands, me and Shorty is, not
-gun-toters. We come here peaceful and we stays thataway, lessen we’re
-crowded bad.</p>
-
-<p>“If I was a gun man, Basset, and was aimin’ tuh th’ow lead in yore
-direction, I’d be doin’ it now. That there bush yo’re a squattin’
-behind ain’t so thick as she might be. I kin see yuh plain. Yuh’d
-orter pick a boulder fer shelter.”</p>
-
-<p>A muffled curse and cracking of twigs came from the brush as Hank
-Basset shifted his position. Tad’s eyes followed the moving brush
-tops. His ruse had worked. He now knew where the cow man crouched.
-Shorty grinned his approval at Tad’s clever lying.</p>
-
-<p>“Good guessin’, Taddie. Now shoo that there settin’ hen of a female
-from her nest and we’ll feel easier,” he whispered. “If it comes to
-the wust, we gotta run. We can’t noways shoot no female women. I might
-try a pot shot at Basset.”</p>
-
-<p>“Hush up, runt.” Then, in a louder tone. “I said my say, Basset. She
-goes as she lays. We ain’t burnin’ no powder here ner elsewhere fer
-Luther Fox. Yo’re the doctor, <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>sabe</i>? If we’re messin’ into ary range
-war er such, we’ll go back the way we come, with our guns in the
-scabards, and leave the job tuh them that wants it. From what I seen
-of the LF hands, there’s plenty of ’em that’ll take it. There’s our
-proposition, Basset. Take it er leave it.”</p>
-
-<p>There was a long silence, broken only by whispering between the cow
-man and his wife. Then the answer came from behind the boulder in the
-voice of Ma Basset.</p>
-
-<p>“Shed yore guns and light. As long as we gotta be pestered with LF
-men, it’d as well be you two as them others. Keerful how you handle
-yore hands while yo’re coming through the fence. Keep to the middle of
-the wagon road that leads to the house. Hank and me’ll have yuh
-covered, every step.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad and Shorty exchanged a quick look. Tad nodded briefly.</p>
-
-<p>“Shed the cannon, pard, and we’ll take her up.”</p>
-
-<p>They tossed their guns to the ground, swung from the saddle and
-approached with their hands in the air. The presence of a woman caused
-Shorty to blush confusedly, but Tad seemed to rather enjoy the
-situation. Once through the barbed-wire fence, they kept to the road.
-A bend in the road brought them in view of the buildings.</p>
-
-<hr class='tb' />
-
-<img alt='' src='images/rooster.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>The sun was just rising and both cowpunchers gazed in surprise at the
-scene spread before them. Low walled, log buildings, the sod roofs
-covered with green grass and wild mustard. Well-built horse corrals,
-branding shute and branding pen beyond. A well-irrigated alfalfa
-patch, blooming and ripe for cutting. A small blacksmith shop
-surrounded by mowers, rakes, and two round-up wagons. Everything neat
-and orderly, rare indeed, for a cattle ranch.</p>
-
-<p>The ranch house and adjacent bunk house were whitewashed, and climbing
-the walls were masses of morning glories. Wild rose bushes, pink
-blossoms wet with the early morning dew, lined the gravel walk that
-led to the doors. All around were the tall cottonwoods.</p>
-
-<p>“Gosh!” whispered Shorty, and removed his hat.</p>
-
-<p>Tad followed suit. They halted on the threshold of the open door,
-carefully wiping their feet on the burlap sack mat. Tad sniffed the
-warm air that came from the kitchen.</p>
-
-<p>From the service-berry brush behind the cowpunchers, stepped the oddly
-mated couple with their shotguns.</p>
-
-<p>Hank Basset, shorter by six inches and lighter by some eighty pounds
-than his wife, was clad in faded flannel shirt and freshly laundered,
-neatly patched overalls. Slightly bent over, tanned the color of an
-old saddle, a bald patch showing in the center of his silvery hair, he
-was anything but warlike in appearance. His mild blue eyes twinkled
-with humor, but there was a look about his straight mouth and square
-chin that told of hidden determination and a fearless spirit if he
-were roused.</p>
-
-<p>Ma Basset, red of cheek, her well-combed, abundance of gray hair
-glistening in the morning sun, was as neat as her rose bushes, and as
-fresh looking, in her red-and-white checked gingham. Despite the scowl
-that furrowed her wide brow, there was everything in her make-up to
-denote a generous, mothering personality. A bit stout, to be sure, but
-her step was firm and alert and her bare arms were more muscular than
-fat. A woman of the pioneer stock, ranch born and raised. As much at
-home in the saddle as in her immaculate kitchen, a fair example of the
-cattle man’s wife whose courage and sacrifice has played so important
-a role in the building of the West. Even as her mother before her had
-fought Indians, so now, did Ma Basset wield her sawed-off shotgun in
-defense of her home.</p>
-
-<p>Suddenly Tad sprang forward into the open door of the kitchen.</p>
-
-<p>“Coffee’s b’ilin’ over!” he bellowed over his shoulder.</p>
-
-<p>Shorty, left on the threshold, shoved his aching arms higher in the
-air and gazed with agonized eyes into the twin barrels of Ma Basset’s
-raised shotgun.</p>
-
-<p>Tad now appeared in the doorway, holding aloft the steaming coffee pot
-as proof of his good intentions.</p>
-
-<p>“&#8212;&#8212; a’mighty, yuh big lummox,” groaned Shorty. “Yuh like tuh got me
-killed.”</p>
-
-<p>There was that in the appearance of the two partners to cause even
-the stoniest hearted to smile. Shorty, his swollen eye a sickly
-green, tanned face perspiring and red from suppressed emotion and
-embarrassment, gazing beseechingly at his partner. Tad, his homely,
-rough-hewn features wreathed in an infectious grin, holding aloft the
-huge granite-ware coffee pot.</p>
-
-<p>“Shucks, Hank,” muttered Ma Basset in an undertone of relief, “them
-two boys ain’t no badmen. Why that pore little feller is nigh scared
-tuh death. Don’t suppose he ever hurt a livin’ thing in his hull life.
-My gracious but that big ’un did give me a start when he tore into the
-house thataway. I was sure certain he was aimin’ to make a fight of
-it. Lawzee!”</p>
-
-<p>The elderly couple did not relax their vigilance, however, until
-breakfast was well on its way.</p>
-
-<p>Tad, with his unaffected, loquacious manner, did much to quell
-suspicion. He insisted on putting on an apron and helping with the
-breakfast, all the while keeping up an aimless chatter with the lady
-of the house. More than often he had her chuckling gaily.</p>
-
-<p>Shorty, in the front room with Hank, told a straightforward story of
-their sojourn in Alder Gulch.</p>
-
-<p>“Yuh mean that you whupped that big miner by yoreself? Why, Fox claims
-that big hunkie is a ex-prize fighter!”</p>
-
-<p>Shorty shrugged.</p>
-
-<p>“I dunno about that, mister. If he’s a pug, he’s a pore ’un. You’d uh
-died laffin’ tuh see Tad a-holdin’ off that gang with a empty gun.”</p>
-
-<p>“And you boys ain’t fightin’ fer Luther Fox?”</p>
-
-<p>“Mister,” said Shorty solemnly, “when me and Tad draws our shootin’
-irons, we does it because somebody’s crowdin’ us er our friends, bad.
-We’re aimin’ tuh go back tuh Arizony some day and we got friends down
-there that we want tuh look square in the eyes, <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>sabe</i>?”</p>
-
-<p>“Breakfast is about ready,” called Ma Basset from the doorway.</p>
-
-<p>Hank and Shorty got to their feet.</p>
-
-<p>“Ma’am,” said Shorty, flushing hotly, “our hosses is outside the fence
-yonder. My grub ’ud plumb choke me if I was tuh set down to the table
-afore I’d took care uh my Skewball hoss. Tad, I reckon, feels the same
-about his Yaller Hammer hoss. He’d ’a’ said so hisse’f only he’s
-a-tormentin’ me by makin’ me axe yuh, kin we be excused while we
-’tends to ’em. The big walloper pesters me continual when there’s
-women folks around.”</p>
-
-<p>Shorty was the color of an Indian blanket by now. Tad, grinning
-widely, winked at Hank.</p>
-
-<p>“Tush, son,” smiled Ma Basset. “Now don’t you pay no attention to him.
-He’d orter be ashamed uh hisself, tormentin’ a boy half his size. You
-boys hurry on now and tend to yore ponies. The key to the gate hangs
-on a nail on the gate post. Unsaddle and turn yore hosses into the
-pasture. There’s blue-joint grass and water a-plenty there. I’ll put
-the biscuits and eggs in the warmin’ oven. Hurry, now.”</p>
-
-<p>Five minutes later there came the sound of splashing water. Ma Basset,
-looking out the kitchen window, nodded her approval.</p>
-
-<p>“They’re washin’-up at the bunkhouse, Hank,” she whispered. “Those
-boys has had raisin’.”</p>
-
-<p>“When a man sets down to his grub afore he’s took care uh his hoss,
-watch out fer him,” added Hank. “I was a-waitin’ tuh see if they was
-goin’ tuh let their animals wait. It don’t take no smart gent tuh see
-that they’re as different from the other LF riders as a gentleman is
-different from a sheep herder. I bin thinkin’, Ma, mebbe so them two
-boys kin help us. They’re kinda like home folks, sorter.”</p>
-
-<p>“Help us?”</p>
-
-<p>Ma Basset shoved a second pan of biscuits in the oven and closed the
-door thoughtfully. Then she straightened.</p>
-
-<p>“Help us, Hank? I’m afeered not. The cattle’s gone, that’s all.
-They’re good boys, like as not, but they can’t make a herd uh cattle
-outa a handful uh sore-footed cows and wind-bellied calves. No, we’re
-beat and beat bad. But we ain’t hollerin’, neither of us. If only our
-Pete boy was back home, I’d feel as chipper as a meadow lark. But the
-thought uh him cooped up in a prison cell, kinda takes the warm
-feelin’ outa the sunshine, somehow.”</p>
-
-<p>Tears glistened in her eyes. She seated herself on a chair and dabbed
-at the tears with the corner of her apron. Hank crossed over to her
-and put an arm about her shoulders.</p>
-
-<p>Tad and Shorty had removed their spurs at the bunkhouse. They made but
-little noise as they came to the door and halted to wipe the dust from
-their boots. They could not help but see what went on inside the
-kitchen. Embarrassed, they looked at each other in silence.</p>
-
-<p>“Our Pete sent over the road by that low-down LF spread, our cattle
-run off and a ten-thousand-dollar note due next week,” came the voice
-of Hank Basset whose back was toward the cowpunchers. “It’s hard lines
-fer folks as old as us, Ma. But we ain’t licked yet. I kin still hold
-down a job punchin’ cows.”</p>
-
-<p>“And I kin beat ary round-up cook that ever burned a batch uh beans er
-turned a mess wagon over,” added Ma Basset bravely. “Yuh mind that
-fall when I cooked fer the outfit, Hank, and drove two broncs fer
-wheelers? I can do it again, too.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad, a vise-like grip on his partner’s arm, backed quietly away from
-the door. On tiptoe they retreated to the bunkhouse. Then, with
-careless step and a whistle coming discordantly from Tad’s pursed
-lips, they again approached the kitchen.</p>
-
-<p>Ma Basset’s eyes showed faint signs of redness and Hank seemed
-somewhat ill at ease. He led them back into the front room.</p>
-
-<p>“Biscuits ain’t quite done,” he explained, waving the two punchers to
-chairs.</p>
-
-<p>He moved stealthily to a cupboard and reached a hand in behind the
-curtain. It came forth holding a brown bottle.</p>
-
-<p>“Ma keeps it fer snake bite,” he whispered. “Have a nip?”</p>
-
-<p>But before he could hand the bottle to the expectant Shorty, an
-approaching step sounded from the kitchen. Hank deftly slid the bottle
-back behind the curtain, a second before his wife appeared in the
-doorway.</p>
-
-<p>In Ma Basset’s hand was a piece of raw beefsteak and a strip of cloth.</p>
-
-<p>“Fer your eye,” she told Shorty, and forthwith tied the piece of meat
-over the swollen and discolored member.</p>
-
-<p>“Your pardner was a-tellin’ me how you fell off your hoss and bunged
-that eye up,” she smiled, standing aside to survey the bandage
-critically.</p>
-
-<p>“Hoss th’owed me?” returned Shorty dazedly. “Shucks, I&#8212;&#8212;”</p>
-
-<p>“Nothin’ to be ashamed of,” she replied. “There ain’t a bronc rider
-livin’ that ain’t got it some time er another.”</p>
-
-<p>“Never was a rider that never got th’owed,” chanted Tad, trying in
-vain to catch his partner’s eye. “Never was a bronc that never got
-rode,” he finished the rime.</p>
-
-<p>But Shorty did not see. Hank was shifting uneasily in his
-rawhide-bottomed chair. He too, seemed to be trying to convey a silent
-message of some sort to Shorty.</p>
-
-<p>“But, ma’am, I&#8212;&#8212;”</p>
-
-<p>“Ma, ain’t them biscuits a burnin’?” Hank was sniffing the air like a
-hound scenting a fox. Ma, her thoughts diverted to the bread, made her
-way hastily to the kitchen.</p>
-
-<p>Hank’s hand darted to the cupboard and the bottle of whisky came forth
-once more. This time it went the rounds. Hank replaced the cork and
-the bottle vanished behind the curtain.</p>
-
-<p>“Now, Ox,” growled Shorty. “How come yuh lied about this here eye?”</p>
-
-<p>“Miz Basset ’lowed that them as mixed up in saloon fights was mighty
-low-down sorter humans, <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>sabe</i>? Tuh keep yuh from bein’ disgraced, I
-lied a mite about that black eye that miner hung on yuh.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ma is plumb sot ag’in’ fightin’,” added Hank. “I aimed tuh wise yuh
-up, but it kinda slipped my mind. Onct, when I gits tangled up in a
-nice quiet scrap and shows up with a swole-up jaw, Ma kinda
-quarantined me off and I et, slept and subsisted, as the sayin’ goes,
-in the blacksmith shop. One uh the boys toted my grub to me. Doggone,
-she was on the prod. She don’t paw the earth ner beller loud ner bend
-no rollin’ pins across a man’s withers. No, sir. She jest swells up
-like a buck Injun, gits proud and haughty and kinda looks a feller
-over like he was lower than a sheep herder.”</p>
-
-<p>Shorty was not cheered by this bit of news. Ma Basset summoned them to
-breakfast at this juncture and the little puncher inwardly writhed
-with the burden of a guilty conscience. Pangs of hunger conquered,
-however, and he ate as heartily as Tad.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2>IV</h2>
-
-<img alt='' src='images/image.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>“I ain’t noways aimin’ tuh be hollerin’,” explained old Hank, spraying
-a sage bush with tobacco juice. “I jest want that you boys should know
-what kind of a skunk yo’re workin’ fer and how he’s throwed the hooks
-to me.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad and Shorty, riding on either side of the cattle-man, nodded.</p>
-
-<p>“Two years ago, come July fourth, my son, Pete, gits into a jam over a
-hoss that Black Jack is abusin’ on the street in Alder Gulch. Black
-Jack pulls a gun. He’s tanked up on Injun whisky and onery as &#8212;&#8212;,
-<i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>sabe</i>? He hates the Pete boy anyhow, and comes a rearin’ when Pete
-tells him tuh quit beatin’ the hoss over the head.</p>
-
-<p>“His bullet ketches Pete in the thigh and Pete limbers up his six-gun
-as he’s a fallin’. Black Jack goes down with a .45 slug in his gun arm
-and the fight is over.</p>
-
-<p>“But the Black Jack gent and Luther Fox is playin’ of a deep game and
-they sets out tuh bust us. They has Pete throwed in jail and tried fer
-attempt tuh murder. They’s a dozen LF pole cats that swears on the
-witness stand that Pete starts the fight and shoots fust. Pete, not
-havin’ ary witness, is railroaded.</p>
-
-<p>“Trials is expensive, boys. Pete’s law sharp bleeds me fer all I kin
-scrape up. The price uh cattle is lower’n a rattler’s belly and I’m
-bad crowded tuh git the coin. I borrys ten thousand dollars from the
-bank and gives my note, never thinkin’ they’d sell the note tuh Luther
-Fox. I ain’t wise tuh them throat-cuttin’ tricks that’s called good
-business by some.</p>
-
-<p>“That fall finds me busted and in debt. I’m doin’ business with Fox’s
-bank, buyin’ grub from Fox’s store and the pore specimens uh
-cowpunchers that’s workin’ fer me is drawin’ double wages from Fox and
-stealin’ me blind. Up till then, Pete has bin runnin’ the round-up and
-takin’ care uh that end. He’s made me and Ma take it easy like,
-sendin’ us to Californy and Florida fer the winters and a babyin’ us
-scan’lous thataway. Now we’re throwed up ag’in’ it onct more and we
-pitches in tuh do our dangdest.</p>
-
-<p>“The day Pete is sentenced to twenty-five years at Deer Lodge, Ma
-takes the train fer Helena tuh see the governor and I comes back and
-starts the fall round-up with as sorry a crew as ever rode a good hoss
-tuh death. My range covers the country between the lone cottonwood and
-the Missouri River. Some eighty thousand acres and she’s supposed tuh
-be fair stocked. Gents, it sounds scary when I tell it, and yuh kin
-believe it er not, but we works that range and we don’t gather five
-hundred head uh steers. Somebody’s beat us to it, understand, and I’m
-cleaned out complete!</p>
-
-<p>“I ships the five hundred head which don’t bring no kind of a price,
-pays off these hoss killers, and gits Joe Kipp tuh help me home with
-the <i>remuda</i> uh sore-backed hosses. Then me and Joe starts in fer tuh
-hunt them stolen cattle.</p>
-
-<p>“There’s old sign a plenty and when we cuts the main trail, we splits
-up and follers it into the bad lands. There’s mebbe so a stretch uh
-rough, timbered brakes fer fifteen-twenty miles betwixt the open
-prairie and the river. Timbered some and stood on end fer the most
-part. I follers a trail along a timbered ridge while Joe takes the
-main trail which seems tuh twist eastward towards the LF range.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ve rode mebbe so eight-ten miles when my hat gits knocked off and I
-hears the pop of a 30-30. Some gent has drilled my hat. Over behind
-some boulders is a puff of white smoke. The range is upwards uh five
-hundred yards. I picks up my hat, unlimbers ole “meat-in-the-pot” and
-heads fer Mister Bushwhacker.</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Ping!</i> Off goes my hat onct more and this time the shot comes from the
-other side, a good four hundred yards away.</p>
-
-<p>Whoever is doin’ that shootin’ is &#8212;&#8212; good shots. Thinkin’ along them
-lines, and wonderin’ where the next bullet will hit, I jabs home the
-spurs and goes a shootin’ towards Mister Polecat behind the boulders.</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Wham!</i> A Winchester barks and my hoss piles up, shot between the eyes.
-I takes my stand behind his carcass and throws some lead in the
-direction uh the brush patch where I sees the white smoke fadin’ away.
-When my gun is empty, I commences shovin’ fresh shells in the
-magazine. Then &#8212;&#8212; busts loose. Seems like a army is bombardin’ me.
-But every danged bullet is goin’ about a foot high. Sudden like, the
-shootin’ quits.</p>
-
-<p>“Got a plenty?” calls a stranger voice. “We bin foolin’ up to now. The
-next shootin’ we does will be the real article. Git on yore laigs and
-hit fer home.”</p>
-
-<p>“I feels the wind of a steel-jacket bullet as she misses my nose by
-about a inch. Mad? I was b’ilin’, gents. Only fer leavin Ma a widder,
-I’d uh stayed till they got me. But het up as I was, I sees how plumb
-useless it is tuh make a fight, so I drags it.</p>
-
-<p>“At the edge uh the bad lands, where we’d split up, I finds Joe Kipp.
-He’s kinda white and shaky like, and he’s afoot, the same as me. The
-drawed look around his mouth and the way his eyes looks at me, makes
-me feel plumb sorry fer him. He’s takin’ it wuss than I am.</p>
-
-<p>“‘They shot yor hoss and made a danged target outa yuh, Joe?’ I asks,
-not knowin’ how else tuh ease his feelin’s.</p>
-
-<p>“‘Hank,’ says he, solemn like and earnest as &#8212;&#8212;, ‘I wish
-tuh &#8212;&#8212; they’d uh killed me, instead uh wingin’ me, like they did.’</p>
-
-<p>“And he shows me his gun arm, busted between the shoulder and elbow by
-a soft-nosed bullet. I ties up the arm the best I kin and we commences
-that thirty-mile walk home. Ol’ Joe never whimpered onct durin’ that
-night’s walk, though I knowed he was sufferin’ bad. Ner did he do ary
-talkin’. Up till then he’d bin right hopeful about gittin’ them stolen
-cattle back. But bein’ set afoot and sech musta drug it outa him bad,
-fer he ain’t never bin the same man since.</p>
-
-<p>“There’s them that claims he’s scared uh Fox, and sometimes it shore
-looks like they done read the sign right. Me, I don’t know. Seems
-like, if he was scared uh Fox, that he’d throw up his tail and quit.
-But he still holds the job down. Some day, I look fer him tuh kill Fox
-er git killed a-tryin’.”</p>
-
-<p>“Didn’t yuh never make no more fight tuh find them cattle?” asked Tad
-after some silence.</p>
-
-<p>“Kipp done went down into the hills two-three times. Each time he went
-there, he come back afoot, lookin’ like he’d seen a ghost. And
-somewhere in his hide ’ud be a bullet hole. Not bad, jest a kinda
-souvenir uh the occasion, as the feller says.</p>
-
-<p>“Onct, I gathers me a posse uh cow-men from around the county and we
-slips into the brakes after night. Injuns couldn’t uh done it more
-quiet. We’d gone mebbe so five-six miles and was goin’ single file
-down a steep trail that led into a canyon. Sudden like, fifty feet
-ahead uh my hoss&#8212;I’m in the lead, <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>sabe</i>?&#8212;a match sputters. Before I
-kin unlimber my cannon, a heap uh brush blazes up. There we are,
-square in the light uh the blaze, the trail too narrer tuh turn
-around, with a dead drop uh two hundred feet on one side and a shale
-cliff on the other. On the trail behind us, afore we gits our senses
-good, another brush pile busts into flame.”</p>
-
-<p>“‘Do you idjits turn back from here er does we start a shootin’?’
-bellers a gent from the dark up above.</p>
-
-<p>“It don’t take no more’n a half-witted sheep herder tuh decide which
-to do. We tells this gent that we’re turnin’ back.</p>
-
-<p>“‘Fifty feet down the trail,’ says he, ‘the trail widens. When the
-front fire goes out, ride over it to that place and turn. Ary man that
-passes that wide point, gits a free ticket tuh &#8212;&#8212;. Us boys is holed
-up here fer a spell and we ain’t cravin’ no visitors. The next man
-that rides into these brakes, don’t see his happy home no more.’”</p>
-
-<p>“That ended it, eh?” inquired Tad.</p>
-
-<p>Hank nodded.</p>
-
-<p>“I ain’t never bin back there. What’s the use? They got the bulge in
-that country. They kin set on a pinnacle and see every rider between
-the brakes and my place, if they got ary fieldglasses, which they
-likely has. The only way tuh git into the hills is along them trails
-and every danged trail is watched. Them cattle is like so many flies
-in a bottle and Fox’s hand over the mouth tuh keep ’em in. The same
-crew uh gun fighters that keeps folks from goin’ into the hills, keeps
-the cattle from driftin’ out.”</p>
-
-<p>“Hmm,” mused Tad aloud. “Regular hole-in-the wall proposition, ain’t
-it? Yeah. How many trails leadin’ into that section, Hank?”</p>
-
-<p>“Two,” came the prompt reply. ‘It’s a kinda pocket, widening out
-beyond where the brakes meets the bottom lands.”</p>
-
-<p>“Trails along the river bottoms, ain’t there?”</p>
-
-<p>“Nary trail ’ceptin’ late in the fall when the water’s low. It’s what
-they call the Narrows. Except fer where trails has bin cut out, a man
-can’t water his saddle hoss along the riverbank fer ten miles. Thirty
-and forty foot banks, <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>sabe</i>? And at each end uh the ten-mile stretch is
-a gorge cut out by spring rains and the cricks, which is so full uh
-quicksand that they’d bog a jacksnipe. A danged pocket, I tell yuh, a
-danged, gyp-water, soap-hole, shale-banked pocket. And they’s feed in
-them cañons tuh winter half the cattle in Montana.”</p>
-
-<p>“Uh-huh. Yet, some way er another, Hank, it don’t sound noways
-reasonable that a man can’t git in there. Supposin’ that a man was tuh
-cross the river, say at one uh the ferries, ride back on the opposite
-bank till he come opposite them Narrers, then swim across to where one
-uh them trails is cut in the bank?”</p>
-
-<p>Hank laughed mirthlessly. “Can’t be done, pardner. My boy Pete is the
-only human that ever done it and he crossed when the river was down.
-Now, at high water, the &#8212;&#8212; hisself couldn’t make it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yore Pete done it?” put in Shorty, silent up till now.</p>
-
-<p>Hank smiled reminiscently.</p>
-
-<p>“Pete knowed the river better’n ary human alive. As a kid, he used tuh
-kinda look after the hosses durin’ the summer. He’d go into the pocket
-with a pack outfit and stay there till time fer the fall round-up. Long
-afore I even knowed he could swim, that kid was bustin’ that river
-wide open, jest fer the fun of it. He like tuh drowned a dozen hosses,
-learnin’ ’em the channel. I never knowed nobody else that ever swum
-the Missouri at the Narrows.”</p>
-
-<p>“Got ary uh them water hosses at the ranch, Hank?” Shorty’s eyes were
-dancing excitedly.</p>
-
-<p>“Shore thing, but even if you was fool enough tuh tackle it, Shorty,
-the river’s up and boomin’ now and the current swifter’n a blue-racer
-snake. I wouldn’t let yuh tackle it, boy. &#8212;&#8212;’s bells, what ’ud yuh
-do if yuh did git across?”</p>
-
-<p>“Now there’s where yuh got me guessin’,” grinned the little puncher,
-but that dancing light still flickered in his eyes as they rode on.</p>
-
-<p>“If yo’re figgerin’ on playin’ fish, runt, fergit it,” grunted Tad as
-he licked the paper of a cigaret.</p>
-
-<p>They rode on in silence for some time, heading back toward the Basset
-ranch.</p>
-
-<p>“Hank,” Tad broke a lengthy silence, “Did Kipp ever try tuh git help
-from the Stock Association on this deal?”</p>
-
-<p>“If he did, he never said so ner nothin’ ever come of it. Why?”</p>
-
-<p>“I was jest a-askin’, that’s all,” came the evasive reply. “Jest
-tryin’ tuh git a squint at the lay from all sides. How long have yuh
-knowed Kipp?”</p>
-
-<p>“Ever since he come to the country. Lemme see. About eighteen years,
-near as I kin figger.”</p>
-
-<p>“Where’d he come from?”</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t know as Joe ever said, and I never asked him. Look here, if
-yo’re figgerin’ that Joe Kipp is mixed up with Fox and ain’t square,
-yo’re plumb wrong. Joe’s honest, bank on that. I’d bet my last steer
-on it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Mebbe so yuh done bet ’em already, and lost ’em,” laughed Tad.</p>
-
-<p>Hank smiled bitterly.</p>
-
-<p>“I reckon not, Ladd. Does ol’ Joe look like a crook er a cow thief tuh
-you?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, Hank. If ever a man had honest eyes, it’s Kipp. A right nice ol’
-feller from what me’n Shorty seen uh him. How long has this Fox pole
-cat bin clutterin’ up the range around here?”</p>
-
-<p>“Three years. He leased and bought all the range he could git holt of
-and throwed in some dogie stuff from the south. Black Jack come with
-the cattle. He’s bin after my range ever since he come to these parts,
-but he never offered nowhere near a fair price. He told me, last time
-he made me a offer, that it was his top price and if I didn’t take it,
-he’d bust me. It looks like he’s shore doin’ it, too. Him and that
-black-whiskered Injun.”</p>
-
-<p>“Is Black Jack a Injun?” asked Tad. “Half-breed, so they claim.
-Apache, I reckon, by his looks. It wouldn’t surprise me none if he’s a
-outlaw. If he wasn’t scared uh bein’ recognized, why does he wear them
-whiskers? I asked Joe but he ’lowed a man couldn’t arrest a man and
-shave him without havin’ danged good reason, and I reckon he’s right.”</p>
-
-<p>They rode on, each of the three busy with his own thoughts. Ma Basset
-was waiting for them at the corral. Beside her stood Joe Kipp. Both
-seemed unusually excited. Ma Basset’s eyes showed signs of weeping.</p>
-
-<p>“God help us and him, Hank!” she cried out as Hank dismounted, “Pete’s
-escaped the pen!”</p>
-
-<p>“Have they caught him yet?” asked Hank, his lips white with fear.</p>
-
-<p>“He got clean away, Hank,” said Kipp. “I rode over tuh tell yuh.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2>V</h2>
-
-<img alt='' src='images/fence.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>If ever a man looked worried, it was Joe Kipp. Every feature of his
-tanned face was drawn and haggard. His eyes were bloodshot and seared
-with some tortuous pain. His hands shook so that he spilled the
-tobacco he was pouring into a brown paper.</p>
-
-<p>“Pete was a sorter trusty at Deer Lodge,” he went on to explain. “He
-waited till the chance come, then made a clean getaway. He was gone
-two hours afore they found it out. I got orders tuh watch out fer him,
-Hank. Yuh see, they figger he’ll be showin’ up around these parts.”</p>
-
-<p>“Look here, Joe Kipp,” said Ma Basset firmly, her eyes still wet, “I
-don’t intend to sit by with my hands in my lap while you or any other
-man is gunnin’ fer my Pete. Yo’re a law officer and there’s no way to
-keep yuh from hangin’ around here, but I’m givin’ yuh warnin’ here and
-now that no man kin take Pete while I kin hold a gun.”</p>
-
-<p>She turned to her husband.</p>
-
-<p>“Hank, I’m glad the boy’s loose and a breathin’ good clean air again.
-He ain’t goin’ back if I kin help it. Are you standin’ by yore wife
-and son er do you line up on the side uh the law that sends innocent
-boys tuh prison? Are yuh&#8212;&#8212;”</p>
-
-<p>“Hush, Ma, yo’re excited,” interrupted Hank. “Uh course, I’m stayin’
-by Pete, right er wrong. But there’s no need tuh&#8212;&#8212;”</p>
-
-<p>Ma Basset sent him a withering glance and whirled on the uncomfortable
-sheriff.</p>
-
-<p>“If you was as eager tuh git back them stolen cattle as yuh are tuh
-shoot our Pete boy, we’d not be facin’ poverty in our old age. It’s a
-wonder tuh me that you got the nerve tuh show yore face on this ranch,
-Joe Kipp.”</p>
-
-<p>The sheriff winced as if struck. Shoulders sagging, eyes fixed on the
-ground, he made no reply. Tad and Shorty, unwilling spectators, were
-heartily wishing themselves elsewhere.</p>
-
-<p>A mother cat will face a dog fifty times her size in defense of her
-young. Face him without fear. Men call it mother instinct and there is
-in this life no more courageous, more self-sacrificing, nor more
-beautiful trait. Not a man there but respected Ma Basset for the stand
-she took, Joe Kipp included.</p>
-
-<p>“Ma’am,” he said, his eyes still fixed on the ground, “I don’t reckon
-I blame yuh none fer the way yuh feel. But yo’re plumb wrong about me
-gunnin’ fer Pete Basset. No matter how the play comes up. I ain’t
-drawin’ no gun on him if I should cut his trail. If I was as onery as
-you figger I am, I’d uh kept my mouth shet and laid low till Pete
-showed up. My idee in ridin’ over was tuh kinda let yuh know it in
-time tuh warn him. In doin’ that I’m violatin’ my oath uh office.”</p>
-
-<p>Kipp turned abruptly and swung into his saddle. Before Hank Basset or
-his wife could say a word, he had ridden through the pole gate and was
-lost to sight in the trees.</p>
-
-<p>“I’d orter have my tongue cut out,” said Ma Basset contritely.
-“Talkin’ to the pore ol’ feller thataway when he was doin’ us a good
-turn. Hank, git on yore hoss and ketch him. Tell him I was jest a fool
-woman talkin’ a lot uh fool nonsense.”</p>
-
-<p>Hank shook his head.</p>
-
-<p>“I reckon ol’ Joe savvys, Ma. He ain’t holdin’ no grudge. Supposin’ we
-tackles some grub? It’s past sundown and we kin talk this thing over
-better after we’ve took on a bait uh beef and beans.”</p>
-
-<p>He jerked the saddle off his horse and followed his wife to the house.</p>
-
-<p>“Holler when supper’s ready, Hank,” Tad told him. “Me’n Shorty wants
-tuh tack a shoe on one of our hosses.”</p>
-
-<p>Hank nodded appreciatively. He knew that there was no horse to shoe
-and he thanked Tad with a look for the kindly lie that gave him and
-his wife a chance to discuss in private the escape of their son.</p>
-
-<p>When Hank had gone in the house, Tad turned serious eyes on his
-partner.</p>
-
-<p>“Shorty, I got a hunch that Joe Kipp’s a worryin’ over somethin’
-besides this Pete gent. He’s sick inside as if he was gut shot and I
-aim tuh find out what’s eatin’ on him. Yuh seen how he flinched when
-Miz Basset lit on him?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yuh don’t think the ol’ feller’s playin’ a double game do yuh, Tad?”
-Shorty’s voice dropped to a whisper.</p>
-
-<p>“I hate tuh be thinkin’ he’s that ornary, but dang me if there ain’t
-some things about this deal that has me guessin’. I’m goin’ tuh foller
-Kipp and see what comes uh it. Tell Hank and Miz Basset some durned
-lie er another about why I rode off. Look fer me when yuh see me
-ride through yonder gate, <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>sabe</i>? This may be a hour’s job, er on the
-other hand, mebbe so it’ll take a week.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why can’t we both go?”</p>
-
-<p>“Because, my well-meanin’ but plumb onsenseless <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>amigo</i>, it’s a one man
-job, this trailin’ business. Stick around here, keep yore eyes peeled,
-and if the Pete boy shows up, tell him not tuh quit the flats till I
-show up and kin make a medicine talk with him. This deal has my
-curious bump a-itchin’ and we’ll see ’er through, no?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’d tell a man. Taddie, ol’ war hoss, I’m rearin’ tuh tackle that
-river from yon side and&#8212;&#8212;”</p>
-
-<p>“Of all the plumb dehorned, knee-sprung, narrer-foreheaded idiots that
-ever dealt his pardner misery, yo’re the wust! We ain’t here tuh do no
-fightin’, dang it. And I don’t want tuh put in the rest uh the summer
-hangin’ around them sand bars waitin’ fer yore fool carcass tuh come
-floatin’ along. Haze that fool idee plumb outa yore system and start
-all over on some plan that listens sensible.</p>
-
-<p>“A man ’ud think yuh had more lives than a tom cat. Fork yore geldin’
-and come down the pasture with me while I ketches me my Yaller Hammer
-pony. And git this here idee circulatin’ through yore system, son:
-We’re peaceful cow hands, me and you. This ain’t our scrap that’s
-goin’ on and the best we’ll git is the sharp end uh the prod-pole if
-we cuts in heavy.</p>
-
-<p>“Leave the thinkin’ parts tuh yore pardner. If I hollers fer he’p,
-come a runnin’ but not lessen I hollers. We want tuh be all in one
-piece and enjoyin’ health and prosperity, as the sayin’ goes, when we
-presses our ponies fer Arizony this fall. Keep yore tongue between
-yore jaws and yore gun in the scabbard and we stand a fair tuh
-middlin’ show uh makin’ our home range, come Christmas. Go rearin’ and
-fightin’ yore head and like as not we’ll winter in a two by four
-hoosegow somewheres in Montana.”</p>
-
-<p>Ten minutes later, Shorty watched his partner ride his fresh horse out
-the pole gate and along the trail Kipp had taken. A wide grin spread
-across the little cow puncher’s weather-tanned face.</p>
-
-<p>“Yuh long-legged preacher,” he muttered good humoredly. “Yo’re plumb
-&#8212;&#8212; on givin’ forth wise words, ain’t yuh? Yuh give more danged
-advice than a Jersey cow gives milk. Then yuh rides away tuh hog all
-the fun whilst I hangs around the kitchen door like a dad-gummed
-blowfly and whittles sticks till yuh chooses tuh come back. Now I
-gotta go in there and lie tuh cover yore trail, dang yuh. We’ll see
-about swimmin’ that river, big ’un.”</p>
-
-<p>“Grub pile!” called Hank from the kitchen door, thus putting an
-end to Shorty’s muttered tirade against the tyranny of his big
-partner.</p>
-
-<p>A wicked look gleamed in his eyes as he made his way to the cabin.</p>
-
-<p>“Where’s yore partner?” asked Ma Basset.</p>
-
-<p>“Gone,” said Shorty, shaking his head sadly.</p>
-
-<p>“Gone? Gone where?”</p>
-
-<p>“Tuh town, I reckon, ma’am. I done the best I could tuh stop him but
-’twan’t no use. Yuh see, Miz Basset, he’s one uh these here habitual
-drunks. Goes fer months without tetchin’ a drop. Then, sudden like, he
-jest busts out. He’ll swim rivers, climb pinnacles, go afoot if he has
-tuh, till he locates licker. Then he bogs down till he’s soaked up
-enough tuh kill ary ten men, forks his hoss and comes back. And the
-queer part of it is, he looks cold sober all the time. I bet a new hat
-yuh won’t be able tuh tell he’s had a drink when he gits back.”</p>
-
-<p>“Land sakes! The pore, diseased critter. Who’d uh thunk he was
-inflicted thataway, Hank? I hope he gits home safe.”</p>
-
-<p>Hank gave Shorty a suspicious look and when Ma Basset’s broad back was
-turned, the little puncher winked broadly. Hank chuckled.</p>
-
-<p>“Hank Basset!” Ma whirled at the sound. “Shame on yuh. Makin’ fun uh
-that pore, diseased boy. If that ain’t like a man. Cow punchers is the
-most cold-hearted humans livin’, I do believe.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes’m,” agreed Hank. “Shorty, if yuh’d crave the use of a brush and
-comb, I’ll herd yuh to it.”</p>
-
-<p>He led the way into the living room and to the bed room beyond. As he
-passed the cupboard, his hand slipped behind the curtain and when the
-two gained the bed room, Hank uncorked the bottle of snake bite cure.</p>
-
-<p>“Happy days, Hank.”</p>
-
-<p>“Drink hearty, Shorty,” came the reply, soft whispered, barely audible
-above the ensuing gurgling noise.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2>VI</h2>
-
-<img alt='' src='images/hat.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>With Shorty left behind to excuse his partner’s absence at supper,
-Tad, despite gnawing pangs of hunger, made no complaint.</p>
-
-<p>In the graying dusk of twilight, he rode slowly along the dusty trail,
-a solitary, graceful figure as he sat his horse with a careless ease,
-a cigaret drooping from the corner of his straight lips. Not a trace
-of weariness was perceptible, in spite of the fact that he had been in
-the saddle since dawn. He had the appearance of some cowpuncher bent
-on a careless mission and time was a minor factor. Yet his keen eyes
-constantly swept the rolling hills with a restless gaze. Always, that
-gaze came back to focus on the moving speck far ahead on the trail.</p>
-
-<p>“Looks like he was headin’ straight fer town, Yaller Hammer,” he said
-softly to the twitching, dun colored ears of his horse. “Mebbeso I’m
-havin’ this here ride fer nothin’, I dunno.”</p>
-
-<p>From his chaps pocket he produced a weatherbeaten square of plug
-tobacco, gnawed to a ragged edge at one end. He surveyed it
-critically; wiped it carefully on the sleeve of his jumper and bit off
-a generous piece.</p>
-
-<p>“Nothin’ like chawin’ tuh keep down the hungry feelin’s,” he mused
-aloud. “Ain’t smelt grub since daylight. Mebbeso won’t sniff none till
-mornin’, neither. It’s &#8212;&#8212; but it’s honest, pony, if yuh want tuh
-figger it thataway.”</p>
-
-<p>Darkness slowly gathered and Tad and Yellow Hammer closed the gap that
-separated them from Joe Kipp. Tad grinned his thanks to the full moon
-that rose majestically from beyond the skyline.</p>
-
-<p>He rode more alertly now, eyes and ears strained to catch any sign of
-the man he followed. Also, he watched the wagging ears of his horse.
-When those furry points stiffened, pointed forward, Tad would halt.
-Twice, when he thus stopped, he was rewarded by the sounds of a
-traveling horse, ahead on the trail. Once, Kipp’s horse had nickered
-and Tad’s big hands closed over Yellow Hammer’s black muzzle just in
-time to prevent an answering nicker. He allowed Kipp a bigger lead
-from that point on.</p>
-
-<p>The hours dragged. Tad dared not risk lighting a cigaret now. The plug
-of tobacco was gradually being gnawed to smaller size. Then,
-silhouetted against the skyline, showed the lone cottonwood that
-marked Hank Basset’s border line. Tad could make out the form of a
-horseman, halted beneath the wide branches. The waiting man lighted a
-cigaret and Tad recognized the features of Joe Kipp.</p>
-
-<p>Nodding sagely to himself, Tad dismounted and led Yellow Hammer into
-the tall greasewood.</p>
-
-<p>“Hate tuh treat yuh so or’nary,” he whispered as he slipped a burlap
-sack across Yellow Hammer’s muzzle and fastened it to the cheek bands
-of his bridle, “but I jest can’t have yuh makin’ no hoss howdy’s,
-<i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>sabe</i>? This ain’t the fust time I’ve cluttered yuh up with one uh these
-contraptions, so don’t act spooky. That’s the good hoss. I wisht
-Shorty had half yore sense, dang his or’nary li’l hide. I bet he’s in
-the saddle this minute, streakin’ it fer the river. Playin’ hookey
-like a school kid and worryin’ a man plumb ga’nt.”</p>
-
-<p>With the caution of an Indian, Tad, devoid of spurs and chaps which
-were hung to his saddle horn, crept through the brush toward the
-cottonwood. Two horses stood beneath the lone tree now. The glowing
-ash of two cigarets showed where the dismounted horsemen squatted
-against the wide tree trunk.</p>
-
-<p>A clear space separated the tree and the greasewood patch where Tad
-lay prone on the ground. A space wide enough to prevent him making out
-the words of the low-toned conversation. Only when the voices
-momentarily laid stress on some spoken thought, could he make anything
-of the murmur. The voice of Kipp was clearly recognizable. The other
-speaker’s voice was vaguely familiar.</p>
-
-<p>“I tell yuh,” came Kipp’s voice, raised with emotion, “I’ve come to
-the breakin’ point! I’ve stood it till I can’t stand it no longer.
-Why, in &#8212;&#8212;’s name, can’t you and Fox let me quit and pull outa the
-country? I tell yuh now, I can’t be crowded no more. I’ll tell the
-whole &#8212;&#8212; miser’ble story!”</p>
-
-<p>“Like &#8212;&#8212; you will,” came the sneering reply, low pitched, calm,
-distinct. “You’ll play yore string out. When we clean up the Basset
-deal, you kin go. Not till then. We need yore protection.”</p>
-
-<p>Kipp’s reply came in a hoarse whisper, indistinguishable to the
-listener hidden in the brush.</p>
-
-<p>A coarse, jeering laugh came from the other man in reply. A match
-flared to light a cigaret and Tad recognized the black-bearded face of
-the half-breed, Black Jack.</p>
-
-<p>“You know &#8212;&#8212; well you won’t do no talkin’,” came the breed’s voice
-with cold conviction.</p>
-
-<p>“Where’s Fox?” asked Kipp, breaking a brief silence.</p>
-
-<p>“Somewhere on the LF trail, headin’ this way. And I don’t aim that he
-should ketch me here, neither. I’m draggin’ it for the Pocket.”</p>
-
-<p>Black Jack got to his feet and took a step toward his horse. Then he
-halted.</p>
-
-<p>“Goin’ to stay here all night? Better be gettin’ to town where yuh
-belong. Fox’ll be along directly and he’ll wonder what brung you here.
-Pete Basset breakin’ his stake rope has put the old gent in one &#8212;&#8212;
-of a humor, and he might treat yuh rough. Better hit the grit.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m aimin’ tuh wait fer Fox,” replied Kipp hoarsely.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t be a plumb &#8212;&#8212; fool. He’ll mebbe kill yuh.”</p>
-
-<p>“Reckon not.”</p>
-
-<p>“It’s yore funeral. I’m driftin’. Good luck. Mind what I say, now.
-Fox’ll beat yuh to it, if yuh make ary gun play. That ol’ &#8212;&#8212;’s a
-snake. So-long.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad listened to the thudding of hoofs as the breed rode away into the
-night. A few moments and all was silent as a grave yard.</p>
-
-<p>Kipp got to his feet, pinching out the glowing ash of his cigaret. He
-led his horse to a patch of brush beyond the tree. When he returned,
-the pale rays of the moon fell on the blued-steel barrel of the
-Winchester in the crook of his arm.</p>
-
-<p>Tad, watching the sheriff’s every move, whistled noiselessly. He saw
-Kipp settle down behind a small patch of brush. This shelter hid Kipp
-from the trail but Tad could see him plainly, outlined against the
-pale sky. Came the clicking of the sheriff’s carbine lever as he threw
-a cartridge from the magazine into the barrel. Then the gun raised and
-Tad saw Kipp squint along the barrel.</p>
-
-<p>“Testin’ his sights,” mused Tad. “If ever a man went through the
-motions uh bushwhackin’ a enemy, Kipp’s a-doin’ it now. He don’t
-noways aim tuh give Fox a chanct.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad pondered this decision for some time, his eyes fixed on Kipp.</p>
-
-<p>“&#8212;&#8212;,” he muttered inwardly. “Puts me in one &#8212;&#8212; of a mess. Fox
-needs killin’ and needs it bad. Shore does. Even shootin’ him from the
-brush is mebbeso what’s comin’ to him, I dunno. But that won’t keep
-Kipp from bein’ a low-down, bushwhackin’ killer iffen he does the job.
-Looks tuh me like this Black Jack Injun and Fox is shore th’owin’ the
-hooks to the ol’ sheriff plumb scan’lous. They got him nigh loco,
-’pears tuh me. But shore as he’s a foot high, Kipp’ll hate hisse’f fer
-pullin’ the trigger, afore his gun barrel cools off. Yessir. Bound
-tuh. Then what’ll he do? He’ll go to the bad, complete. Booze’ll put
-him in the bog fer keeps. Either that, er he’ll turn that gun on
-hisse’f and blow his own head off. Which won’t do nobody no good
-’ceptin’ mebbe this Black Jack skunk. Hmm. I never cut into no man’s
-game up till now, but I’m shore declarin’ myse’f in on this.”</p>
-
-<hr class='tb' />
-
-<img alt='' src='images/horse.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>Noiselessly, he slipped back to his horse and swung into the saddle.
-As Yellow Hammer scuffed along the dusty trail at a running walk, Tad
-raised his voice in song to herald his coming. He rightly guessed that
-his approach would, for a few moments, so startle Kipp that the old
-sheriff would not have time to beat a retreat until Tad was too close.</p>
-
-<div class='poetry'>
-<div class='stanza'>
-“Sam Bass was born in Indiana, it was his native home,<br />
-And at the age of seventeen young Sam begun to roam.<br />
-Sam fust come to Texas, a cowboy fer to be,<br />
-A kinder hearted feller, you seldom ever see.”
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>The words of the old range song came in full-toned, discordant abandon
-as Tad rode into the clearing.</p>
-
-<p>From the brush, Kipp’s horse nickered and this time Tad allowed Yellow
-Hammer to give answer.</p>
-
-<p>“Whoa, geldin’,” mumbled Tad, loud enough for Kipp to hear. “Looks
-like we got company. Halloo, pardner. Come out so’s we kin read yore
-brand.”</p>
-
-<p>A second of silence, then Kipp stepped into sight. The sheriff’s bushy
-white brows bristled in a frown of annoyance. Yet Tad was certain that
-the old fellow looked relieved. He eyed Tad with suspicion. “He’s
-wonderin’ if I’m suspectin’ him,” was Tad’s inward comment. Aloud he
-said with hearty pleasantness:</p>
-
-<p>“Howdy, Sheriff. Yuh git bucked off er was yuh ketchin’ some shut-eye?”</p>
-
-<p>“Dozin’ a spell,” lied Kipp. “What brings you out this time uh night
-on this trail?” Tad had not expected this question but his ready wit
-came to his rescue.</p>
-
-<p>“Miz Basset ’lowed she’d acted plumb or’nary towards yuh and ’lowed
-that Hank should ride after yuh and bring yuh back. I knowed Hank was
-tuckered out and a-feelin’ a heap upset about Pete, so I took the job
-off his hands. They want that I should bring yuh back.”</p>
-
-<p>This last statement came to the nimble-witted Tad as a happy after
-thought. If the sheriff returned with him, Fox would ride his homeward
-trail without being shot.</p>
-
-<p>“No need uh me ridin’ plumb back there, Ladd. I done told her and Hank
-I didn’t bear no hard feelin’s. I got business in Alder Gulch that
-should be tended to.”</p>
-
-<p>“’Twon’t do, Kipp. I give my word that I wouldn’t come back till I
-brung you along. Don’t make me go follerin’ yuh around fer a week er
-so.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad’s tone was that of light banter. Yet there lay an undercurrent of
-determination that did not escape the sheriff.</p>
-
-<p>“All right, if there’s no other way to it, let’s git goin’.”</p>
-
-<p>He led his horse from the brush and mounted. Together, they headed
-back for the Basset ranch.</p>
-
-<p>For some time, they rode in silence. Tad, from the shadow of his
-wide-brimmed hat, studied the sheriff’s features. Kipp was staring
-fixedly at his saddle horn, deep in brooding thought. The reaction was
-setting in now and he was shaking like a man with palsy. Then this
-passed and the old sheriff’s shoulders straightened.</p>
-
-<p>“Ladd,” he said abruptly. “You don’t know it, but yuh saved my life
-tonight. I wisht I could tell yuh about it, but I can’t. There’ll come
-a day when I will, though.</p>
-
-<p>I come &#8212;&#8212; nigh doin’ somethin’ that would uh made life a livin’
-hell. I come nigh bein’ a low down, or’nary coyote. I’m plumb obliged.
-I hope, some day, I kin pay yuh back in full.”</p>
-
-<p>“&#8212;&#8212;, that’s all right, Kipp. Fergit it. If I he’ped yuh ary way, I’m
-right glad tuh uh done it. Yuh know, there ain’t none uh us humans
-that ain’t got a or’nary streak hid out somewhere in our innards. And
-some time er another, that there or’nary streak jest nacherally busts
-all holts and comes a-rearin’. Sometimes, we kin grab a tail-holt and
-jerk ’er back in time. More often it’s some other gent that heads off
-that or’nary streak and herds it back into our system tuh stay put fer
-the rest uh our life. I mind the night mine broke out.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad grinned into the sheriff’s eyes, lighted a cigaret, and went on,
-the words coming lazily in his soft, Southern drawl:</p>
-
-<p>“My mammy died when I was little more’n a yearlin’, leavin’ me tuh
-grow up kinda keerless like, my daddy not payin’ me much attention
-when I shows I kin kinda do my own rustlin’. He’s a cowpuncher fer
-the Turkey Track at the time and I’m wranglin’ hosses fer the spread.
-When they ships, I goes tuh town with the boys and while they’re
-a-blowin’ their coin fer licker and gamblin’ and such, I’m squanderin’
-my ten a month fer sody pop and sweet truck. I’ve likewise bought
-myse’f a sore-backed, ring-boned Mexican mule which I gits from a
-drunken Pisano fer six-bits and a pint uh rot-gut licker.</p>
-
-<p>“My daddy, bein’ a good drinkin’ man and jest about slick enough at
-stud poker tuh hang and rattle all night afore he loses his taw to the
-tin-horns, ain’t much better off, financial, as me.</p>
-
-<p>“Then one fall night, in a Mex town along the Rio, my daddy gits
-downed in a gun scrap. I’m sleepin’ on a poker table at the time,
-waitin’ till paw goes broke so’s I kin load him on his hoss and go tuh
-camp. By the time the smoke’s cleared away and I gits full waked up,
-dad’s a-passin’ out fast and callin’ fer me. I sets there on the <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>’dobe</i>
-floor and wipes the blood off his mouth while he crosses the Big
-Divide, a grin on his face while his eyes goes glassy.</p>
-
-<p>“‘Kid,’ says he, afore the blood chokes him, ‘it was Pedro Sanchez,
-the bronc peeler, that done it. Here’s my gun. When the time comes,
-git that greaser.’</p>
-
-<p>“I’m some twelve years old then. That night I pads that mule uh mine
-with gunny sacks, throw’s my dad’s saddle on him and proceeds tuh
-foller this Sanchez gent who has left town <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>pronto</i> after the killin’.
-My ol’ rusty Chihuahua spur is tied to my bare foot and the
-long-barreled .45 gouges my ribs and starts wearin’ the hide off my
-hip bone. Thus burdened, as the sayin’ goes, I hits the trail uh the
-gent that’s downed my daddy.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad smiled reminiscently.</p>
-
-<p>“Yuh found him?” asked Kipp, his own troubles momentarily forgotten.</p>
-
-<p>“Ten years later, I finds him. He dealin’ faro bank in Juarez and
-alongside him on the table lays a white-handled six-gun with five
-notches filed on the handle, plain and insultin’ like. Sanchez, havin’
-got off to a good start, has done turned out tuh be a killer, <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>sabe</i>?</p>
-
-<p>“Up to now, I bin as peaceful a kid as ever follered a long-horned
-steer. I’ve done got outa the notion, almost, uh shootin’ up this
-greaser. I’ve done met up with fellers, as the years passes and I gits
-rings around my horns, that tells me as how paw was or’nary mean when
-he’s lickered and the Sanchez gent has done no more than right when
-he’s kills him off. I’m beginnin’ tuh think that mebbeso I’m not bound
-and beholdin’ tuh down this Sanchez after all. Right’s right and
-wrongs no man, thinks I, and if paw had it comin’, he done got it and
-jack-pot’s played and won. So yuh see I ain’t noways huntin’ no
-trouble ner makin’ no play tuh hunt down this greaser feller. It jest
-pops up sudden.</p>
-
-<p>“There I stands, a awkward, long-legged, high-withered ol’ kid, and
-I’m lookin’ into the wickedest pair uh snake eyes that I ever seen.
-His lips is kinda smilin’ but the smile don’t go higher than his black
-mustache which is twisted to sharp points. Sudden like, I recollects
-a-holdin’ of my daddy’s head and wipin’ that sickish lookin’ pink
-froth from his mouth so’s he kin talk. Somehow, my gun has got into my
-hand and I’m coverin’ this snake-eyed killer.</p>
-
-<p>“‘I come tuh kill yuh, Sanchez,’ I says, and my voice sounds weak and
-unconvincin’ as &#8212;&#8212;.</p>
-
-<p>“‘So?’ says Sanchez, laughin’ short and nasty, like I’d sprung a josh
-on him. ‘I wish yuh luck, sonny.’ And with that he goes right on
-dealin’ like he’s clean fergot I’m there.</p>
-
-<p>“If he’d a knocked the gun outa my hand, er slapped me alongside the
-jaw, I could uh waded in and done battle. But he’s treatin’ me like I
-was a yearlin’ kid a-packin’ of a pea gun. I feels my face go hot like
-I was settin’ over a fire. My hands is cold as ice and bigger’n
-snowshoes. The barrel uh my gun is rattlin’ on the edge uh the table,
-I’m that shaky. Wust of all, a kinda blurry look looms up in my eyes
-and I know it’s tears. Man, it was jest nacherally &#8212;&#8212;!</p>
-
-<p>“The crowd snickers and grins. A Mex <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>vaquero</i> makes a funny crack and
-his friends giggles. Sanchez, holdin’ his head kinda sideways tuh keep
-the smoke uh his cigaret outa his eyes, goes on dealin’ without
-lookin’ up, payin’ bets and rakin’ in chips uh them that loses.</p>
-
-<p>“Somehow, I makes it across to the door, dizzy and all sickish inside
-me like a kid that’s swallered a chaw uh terbaccer. It ain’t till I
-gits out into the dark and sets down on a empty beer keg, that I finds
-that I’m still holdin’ my gun in my hand.</p>
-
-<p>“Fust off, I starts tuh th’ow that &#8212;&#8212; gun as fur as I kin sling it.
-Then I gits a idee. I’m goin’ tuh lay out there in the dark till this
-Sanchez comes out. Then I’ll down him. I ketches myse’f talkin’ out
-loud like a loco sheep herder and tears is runnin’ like cricks down
-inside my shirt collar.</p>
-
-<p>“I wipes off the tears, blows my nose and takes a chaw uh line-cut tuh
-make me feel more like a man. Then, squattin’ in the shadow near the
-door, I cocks my gun and waits fer Sanchez tuh come out fer his
-midnight lunch, which I knows most dealers does.</p>
-
-<p>“Sudden like, there’s a noise behind me. I swings around, startled
-sorter.</p>
-
-<p>“‘Fer gosh sake, put up that cannon yuh got stuck in my belly,’ says
-a good Texican American voice that don’t sound none too old. ‘She
-might go off, bein’ cocked that-away. Ease ’er tuh half-cock and shove
-’er back in yore jeans. Me’n you’s gonna have a medicine talk, Slim.’</p>
-
-<p>“I dunno yet why I done it, but I does as he says without a whimper.
-He leads me into a saloon down the street and orders two sody pops. I
-gits a good look at him in the light.</p>
-
-<p>“He’s a kinda runty built kid with a face that’s plenty sprinkled with
-freckles like some cow has coughed bran in his face. He ain’t much tuh
-look at till he grins, then he’s right easy tuh stand. He’s got one uh
-these grins that makes yuh grin right back afore yuh know it. His left
-eye is black and swole up and his lower lip is split bad. He’s about
-twenty and a cowpuncher.</p>
-
-<p>“‘My last two bits,’ he ’lows, as he pays fer the sody pop. ‘I bet
-that’s two bits more than you got, long boy.’</p>
-
-<p>“I admits the charge and he nods happy like.</p>
-
-<p>“‘Then we starts even, feller. Down yore p’izen and loan me the use of
-a fresh chaw. Then I’m gonna take yuh back and watch yuh pull that
-Sanchez gent’s fangs.’</p>
-
-<p>“‘Yuh seen him bluff me down?’ I asks, plumb ashamed.</p>
-
-<p>“‘Yeah, I seen it. And I follered yuh outside. I seen yuh while yuh
-made up yore mind tuh shoot him from the dark.’</p>
-
-<p>“‘How come yuh know I was layin’ fer him?’ says I.</p>
-
-<p>“‘You was talkin’ to yorese’f about it, pardner. All set? Then rattle
-yore hocks and we’ll git goin’. They th’owed me outa that wigwam last
-evenin’ after the poker dealer had robbed me uh two months pay.’</p>
-
-<p>“Mebbeso it’s because I’m cooled off, er mebby it’s because this
-short-legged boy is so danged sure that I kin turn the trick, anyhow,
-when I goes back into that gamblin’ house, I’m steady as a work ox.</p>
-
-<p>“‘Whup him a plenty, Slim,’ whispers my new pardner, as we steps
-inside. ‘I’m standin’ at yore back till yore belly caves in. I’ll keep
-the gang off yuh. Whup him with yore hands.’</p>
-
-<p>“Which I does. Sanchez goes fer his gun there on the table when he
-sees me comin’ but he’s slow and my bullet tears that fancy cannon
-loose from under his hand without hurtin’ him, though it plumb ruins
-that white handle with the notches. He unlimbers a knife as I clears
-the table but I weans him away from it <i xml:lang="es-MX" lang="es-MX">pronto</i> when my gun barrel
-ketches him across the wrist. Then I hands my smoke pole to my new
-pardner and proceeds tuh work Mister Snake Eyes over with my hands.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad paused to light his cigaret. Kipp was again staring at his saddle
-horn.</p>
-
-<p>“That fight wins me two things that night. One was Shorty Carroway,
-the gamest pardner a man ever had. The other was what book-learnt
-folks calls se’f-respect. Only fer Shorty, I’d uh killed that Sanchez
-from the dark that night and lost my right tuh call myse’f a man.”</p>
-
-<p>Kipp shot Tad a covert glance, laden with suspicion. Did the cow
-puncher suspect him of lying in wait for Fox? But Tad’s homely
-features were guileless. They rode on in silence.</p>
-
-<hr class='tb' />
-
-<img alt='' src='images/pouch.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>In telling this story, Tad felt that he was accomplishing two
-purposes. He was perhaps giving the nerve-racked sheriff a new grip on
-his ebbing courage and self-control. Likewise, he was explaining to
-his own conscience, his reason for breaking one of the unwritten laws
-of the cow country. The law that says a man shall tend to his own
-affairs and leave the affairs of his fellow men strictly alone.</p>
-
-<p>Kipp busied himself with a sack of tobacco and brown papers. In the
-gray light of dawn, Tad watched the gnarled fingers of the sheriff,
-pouring the flaky tobacco into the paper. Those fingers were steady
-now.</p>
-
-<p>“Nigh sunup and yonder’s the ranch. I’m ga’nt as a coyote,” grinned
-the cow puncher.</p>
-
-<p>“Kinda feel thataway myself, pardner,” smiled Kipp. “Don’t know when
-I’ve felt as hungry.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2>VII</h2>
-
-<img alt='' src='images/pipe.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>Surprise, consternation, and a trace of suspicion were written on
-Ma Basset’s face when she greeted Tad and Kipp at the gate.</p>
-
-<p>“There’s&#8212;there’s nothing wrong, Sheriff?” she cried, her work-reddened
-hands gripping the gate pole.</p>
-
-<p>“Figgered you and Kipp ’ud want tuh talk over this here Pete business,
-so I done brung him back,” Tad explained easily, wondering why Ma
-Basset looked at him so sharply.</p>
-
-<p>Fresh in Ma Basset’s memory was Shorty’s fabrication regarding his
-partner’s absence at supper the night before and she was searching the
-big puncher’s rugged features for traces of his debauch.</p>
-
-<p>Tad’s eyes flitted to the log barn fifty feet away. He smiled faintly
-as he saw six inches of blued rifle barrel protruding between the
-chinks of the logs. The gun was covering Kipp who had not seen it.</p>
-
-<p>“Any sign of Pete?” asked Ma nervously.</p>
-
-<p>“Not nary, ma’am,” returned Kipp. “I’d like fer tuh pow-wow some with
-Hank regardin’ him and them cattle. Beginnin’ this mornin’, Miz Basset,
-I’m turnin’ this here sheriff star over tuh Hank. Then I’m makin’ a
-trip into the bad-lands. Iffen I comes out with them lost cattle I’ll
-be askin’ fer the badge. Iffen I don’t bring them cattle out, I won’t
-be needin’ it no more nohow. As fer Pete, I ain’t a-huntin’ the boy
-ner would I lay a hand on him, was I tuh run acrost him. Until I come
-back from the Pocket, I’m a plain, everyday citizen.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad and Ma gazed at the old officer in startled surprise. Tad was
-smiling oddly. The rifle barrel slid out of sight in the barn and Hank
-Basset, holding the gun in the crook of his arm, stepped into sight.</p>
-
-<p>“Howdy, Joe. I done heered yuh. What’s the idee in actin’ that-away?”</p>
-
-<p>Kipp grinned.</p>
-
-<p>“A feller done told me a story last night, Hank. I don’t reckon he
-meant tuh, but he sorter showed me which trail tuh take, beginnin’
-here. I want that you should keep this here badge fer me fer a spell.
-After breakfast, I’ll be askin’ the loan of a fresh hoss.”</p>
-
-<p>“Land sakes!” gasped Ma, reminded of her duty to those who ride within
-one’s gate. “Light and come to the house. There’s flapjacks and steak
-that’s sp’ilin’ to be et.”</p>
-
-<p>Hank gazed thoughtfully for a moment at Kipp’s badge, now lying in the
-palm of his hand. Then he pocketed the star and reached for the bridle
-reins of the two horses.</p>
-
-<p>“Foller Ma to the house, Joe. Tad, will yuh lend me a hand fer a
-minute er so here at the barn?”</p>
-
-<p>Kipp and his wife out of sight, Hank led Tad to the barn with an air
-of one who has news to impart.</p>
-
-<p>“Where’s Shorty?” asked Tad.</p>
-
-<p>“Gone,” came the cryptic reply. “He done left a message fer yuh. He
-said tuh tell yuh that you was a long-geared, psalm-singin’ ol’
-sand-hill crane and that he’d learn yuh to leave him tuh tell yore
-lies fer yuh. Likewise that he was free, white and past votin’ age and
-that he could take keer uh hisse’f in ary tight. Them’s his exact
-words.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then the danged li’l’ banty rooster is up tuh suthin’. What hoss did
-he ride?”</p>
-
-<p>“Pete’s Water Dog pony. He&#8212;&#8212;”</p>
-
-<p>“I knowed it! I knowed it!” groaned Tad. “I seen it in his eye, drat
-his pesky, speckled hide. I should uh tied him up afore I left. Ever
-since you said no man could swim that river, I seen that or’nary,
-contrary, mule-minded li’l’ varmint a-millin’ over a idee in his
-head. All yuh gotta do is tell that li’l’ ol’ son of a gun that no
-human kin do somethin’ and he don’t sleep easy ner swaller his grub
-right, till he makes yuh out a liar. I knowed it and when I pulled out
-last evenin’, I was plumb skeered he’d do somethin’ like that. If he’s
-killed, Hank, I’m tuh blame. How long has he bin gone?”</p>
-
-<p>“They pulled out two hours afore daylight,” came the reluctant answer.</p>
-
-<p>“They?”</p>
-
-<p>“Pete went with him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Pete?” Tad’s lips pursed in a silent whistle. “Tell me about it,
-Hank,” he finished grimly.</p>
-
-<p>“The boy showed up afore midnight. Seems like he’d got word somehow,
-while he was at Deer Lodge, that Fox was cleanin’ me out. That’s why
-he run away. He made me and Ma tell him the hull thing, how the cattle
-had bin run off and how Fox is aimin’ tuh jerk the rope tight next
-week when that note falls due. Then he takes my gun and ’lows he’s
-startin’ then and there fer town. He’s goin’ tuh kill Fox like he’d
-kill a mad dog and Ma’s tears ner my arguments don’t stop him.</p>
-
-<p>“‘Hold on a minute, Pete,’ calls a voice from the door. There stands
-Shorty, grinnin’ pleasant like. Tut up that gun and listen fer a
-spell while we talks sense. Killin’ Fox won’t git yuh nothin’ but a
-hangin’ bee. But you and me, barrin’ accidents and good shootin’ on
-the part uh the LF polecats, kin git them cattle back. Say we throws
-our hulls on yore top-water hosses, swims that crick and kinda give
-them gents a su’prise party?’”</p>
-
-<p>Hank’s hands went out in a gesture of helplessness. Tad nodded
-understandingly.</p>
-
-<p>“Shorty’s jest plumb fool enough tuh win out, too,” he mused aloud.</p>
-
-<p>“Pete ’lowed that the swimmin’ was a cinch,” admitted Hank. “But then,
-mebbeso he was jest lyin’ tuh make me and Ma feel easy. Say, what’s
-come over Joe Kipp? He acts plumb queer. Yuh don’t reckon the ol’
-feller’s losin’ his mind, do yuh?”</p>
-
-<p>“Noooo. Don’t know as I’d go so fur as tuh say Kipp was gittin’ weedy.
-Fact is, I think he’s jest kinda pullin’ hisse’f together. Yeah.
-Supposin’ we eases ourselves over to the house, Hank? My belly’s so
-empty that the chaw uh terbaccer I swallered tuh keep from goin’ tuh
-sleep, is rattlin’ around in my stummick like a bronc in a corral.”</p>
-
-<p>On the way to the cabin, Hank told Tad how Shorty had excused his
-partner’s absence.</p>
-
-<p>“The wust of it is, Tad, she believes it. Said I was a kinderd spirit
-and a whisky soak when I tries tuh explain that Shorty was jest
-funnin’. I thought fer a minute that she was goin’ tuh haze me into
-the blacksmith shop again, dang it.”</p>
-
-<p>Hank grinned twistedly.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll wring that danged li’l’ rooster’s neck when I ketches him,”
-grinned Tad.</p>
-
-<p>“He ’lowed he was breakin’ even fer that windy yuh told Ma about a
-hoss throwin’ him and givin’ him the black eye.”</p>
-
-<p>During breakfast, Tad caught Ma Basset’s gaze fixed on him, and he
-felt his ears growing red. No doubt the woman thought that bringing
-Kipp back with him was some sort of drunken whim. Moreover, Kipp’s odd
-behavior did much to convince Ma that the sheriff was also under the
-influence of liquor. Tad breathed a sigh of relief when they were
-safely back at the corral and Kipp had caught a fresh horse.</p>
-
-<p>“I’d like tuh go along, Joe,” said Hank. “Them’s my cattle, yuh know
-and it’s no more’n right that I should be goin’.”</p>
-
-<p>“It’s a one-man job, Hank. There’ll like as not be some powder burnt.
-Yuh don’t want tuh leave no widder behind yuh. In case I don’t come
-back, here’s the combination to my safe.”</p>
-
-<p>He handed Hank a slip of paper on which were some penciled figures.</p>
-
-<p>“In the safe is a sealed envelope addressed to you. It has some papers
-which will be uh use to yuh. But it ain’t tuh be opened till I’m dead,
-savvy?”</p>
-
-<p>Hank nodded, then looked at Tad. “Reckon I’d best tell Joe about
-Pete?” Tad pondered this a moment, then: “Might as well. Can’t do no
-harm, Hank.”</p>
-
-<p>“Pete’s aimin’ tuh swim the river from yon side uh the Narrers and
-come into the Pocket, Joe.”</p>
-
-<p>“&#8212;&#8212;!” Kipp’s eyes filled with pain.</p>
-
-<p>“He’ll never make it, Hank. Even if he crosses, there’s a man watching
-the trail from the river. He’ll be killed, shore.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then I reckon I’ll be goin’ along with yuh, Kipp,” said Tad. “Shorty
-went with Pete. If Shorty gits killed, all &mdash;&mdash; can’t stop me till I
-downs every last man that’s mixed up in this. All of them, <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>sabe</i>?”
-Tad’s eyes had gone hard as ice. The good-natured expression had given
-way to hard, grim lines.</p>
-
-<p>“I reckon,” said Kipp slowly, meeting Tad’s gaze without flinching,
-“that I <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>sabe</i>, Ladd. That bein’ the case, I want that you should come
-along with me.”</p>
-
-<p>They saddled in silence. Tadd slipped a Winchester into the saddle scabbard
-and emptied a box of 30&ndash;40 shells into his pocket.</p>
-
-<p>“I told Fox I’d meet him at the lone cottonwood to deliver those
-cattle, Hank,” said Tad with a grimness that gave the statement the
-tone of a threat. “That’ll be Sunday noon. I reckon you’ll be there.
-So-long till then.”</p>
-
-<p>“Remember the paper in the safe,” Kipp reminded Hank. “It’ll explain a
-heap that I reckon yo’re a big enough man tuh understand, Hank.”</p>
-
-<p>Without another word, Tad and Kipp rode away, leaving Hank standing in
-the gateway, scratching his head in a puzzled manner.</p>
-
-<p>“Hank Basset,” called Ma from the doorway, some time later. “Whatever
-in the world are yuh standin’ there in the road fer? A person ’ud
-think you’d jest said good-by to yore last friend, a standin’ around
-like a hoot owl with yore hat in yore hand, gawkin’.”</p>
-
-<p>“Last friend?” muttered Hank, as he turned to the house. “I don’t know
-but what she done guessed it right. The hull danged business has got
-beyond me, dad gum it.”</p>
-
-<p>“If you bin hittin’ that bottle,” warned Ma, her voice firm with
-determination, “you’ll put in the rest of the week at the blacksmith
-shop. I’ll have no drunken rowdies set foot over my door sill.”</p>
-
-<p>Ten feet from the cabin, Hank halted. He saw Ma Basset holding the
-bottle of snake-bite medicine to the light. Memory of Shorty’s
-healthy-sized drinks came to Hank’s mind.</p>
-
-<p>“A good three inches below my last mark,” he heard his wife mutter. “I
-suspected as much.”</p>
-
-<p>With a groan, Hank turned and with dragging steps, entered the
-blacksmith shop.</p>
-
-<p>“Beat her to it that time,” he muttered, seating himself on a keg of
-horse shoes and biting off a corner of plug tobacco.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2>VIII</h2>
-
-<img alt='' src='images/cow.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>“As well marked as a prize-winnin’ white-face, and as quick actin’ as
-a top-cuttin’ hoss,” was Shorty Carroway’s mental summing up of young
-Pete Basset. “He’d orter act plumb purty in a scrap, be it six-gun er
-knock down and drag out.”</p>
-
-<p>Nor was Shorty far from being wrong in his estimation of his
-companion. Straight-featured, clean-limbed, his clear eyes honest and
-alight with the fire of unspoiled youth, the son of Hank Basset sat
-his horse with a careless grace that marked him a born horseman. Even
-college had left him unspoiled by the flattery and idolatry that is
-the unmaking of many a crack athlete.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t much like the idea of you getting mixed up in this mess,
-Carroway,” he said in a troubled tone. “It’s really not your scrap,
-you know, and there’s going to be some nasty battling before it’s
-over. It sure is white of you, and darn few men would do what you’re
-doing now, even friends of long standing. Hang it all, we’re little
-more than strangers to you and it’s not fair to&#8212;&#8212;”</p>
-
-<p>“Fergit it, Pete,” grinned Shorty, reddening. “Strangers? I reckon
-not. There’s some folks that I’ve knowed since I was hock high to a
-cotton-tail rabbit, that’s more strangers tuh me than yore paw and
-mammy. They done took me and my Tad pardner into the house like we was
-kin folks. Dang it, I ain’t et such grub since I was a yearlin’.</p>
-
-<p>“Anyhow, my reasons fer takin’ chips in this here game is sorter vary
-and sundry, as the feller says. Tad’s bin abusin’ me scan’lous and I
-aim tuh git even. That’s one reason. Then, this here Fox <i xml:lang="es-MX" lang="es-MX">hombre</i> is
-nacherally goin’ tuh rear up and fall over backward on hisse’f when we
-brings out this herd. Thirdly and mostly, I’m sp’ilin’ tuh lay hands
-on this here gent which goes by the handle uh Black Jack, thereby
-completin’ a job uh manhandlin’ which I was forced tuh quit sudden
-like onct at the LF wagon.</p>
-
-<p>“Again, I’m honin’ fer tuh show yore daddy that there’s one human
-besides his son which kin bust that Missouri wide open. All uh which,
-<i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>amigo</i>, downs ary argument on yore part. Ain’t it about time we was
-gittin’ to that place acrost from the Narrers? We bin ridin’ right
-along since we crossed on the ferry and she’s nigh dark.”</p>
-
-<p>“We’re about opposite the upper end now, Shorty. See that high-cut
-bank below the first little bend? That’s her. That lighter brown strip
-is their trail where they water the stock. We’re a mile above, rough
-figuring. That means we’ll drift to that trail nicely, starting here.
-We’ll angle it as much as we can. Current’s swift and the channel lays
-full against the cut back on the other side.</p>
-
-<p>“See that sharp pinnacle? Well that’s the point we’ll head for. It’ll
-show plain against the sky when the moon rises. Barring undercurrents
-and snags, we stand a fighting chance of hitting it. If we don’t, it’s
-thumbs down for us. That cliff is ten miles to the lower end and not
-six inches toe-hold in the ten miles. I wish you wouldn’t tackle it,
-pardner.”</p>
-
-<p>Shorty shook his head and, following Pete’s actions, dismounted and
-unsaddled. Hobbles were adjusted and the two partook of a meager
-repast of jerky and canned tomatoes. Brush screened them from the
-opposite bank as they squatted beneath a big cottonwood and waited for
-darkness and a rising moon.</p>
-
-<p>Already, the approaching danger was fast cementing a strong friendship
-between these two. As men will do on such occasions, they exchanged
-confidences, swapped stories and lighted their cigarets from the same
-match.</p>
-
-<p>Pete’s quick movements and the dancing light in his gray eyes betrayed
-the nervous tension within. Shorty showed not a trace of whatever
-emotion lay behind his soft-spoken banter. Though a scant ten years
-older than his companion, Shorty had been well tutored in the school
-of hard knocks. Like his partner, Tad, he was an orphan, range-reared
-and self reliant. The only living thing that he was afraid of was a
-woman. The more beautiful, the more fear she instilled in the heart of
-the little cowpuncher. Danger merely quickened his pulse as strong
-drink affects a man unused to it. Yet he masked his feelings as
-effectively as the seasoned gambler hides four aces. It was as if
-risking his life was an everyday occurrence, all in a day’s work.</p>
-
-<p>Twilight deepened into night and a white moon pushed itself over the
-ragged skyline. A horned owl hoo-hooed in the cottonwoods. The timid
-white-tail deer bedded down in their red willow thicket. Back in the
-brakes, a wolf gave voice to a long-drawn howl. A ripple showed on the
-smooth surface of the water as a muskrat swam from its hole in the
-clay bank. Plunk! A beaver tail slapped the water with such abruptness
-that Shorty’s hand dropped to his gun.</p>
-
-<p>“I reckon we might as well tackle it,” said Pete quietly, getting to
-his feet.</p>
-
-<p>They saddled in silence, with great care. Cinches were left loose.
-Hackamores took the place of bridles. Boots and chaps were rolled in a
-neat bundle and tied to the backs of the saddles. Shorty bit off a
-large chew of plug and swung into the saddle.</p>
-
-<p>“There’s no way of keeping you from coming along, Shorty?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not nary, Pete. I done hired out fer a tough hand and I plays my
-string out. Chaw?”</p>
-
-<p>He held out the gnawed plug.</p>
-
-<p>“Thanks, but I never chaw, pardner.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then don’t never learn. I gotta own up though, that there’s nothin’
-quite so plumb downright soothin’ as a man-size hunk uh plug at a time
-like this. It’s as intoxicatin’ as a shot uh tea is to a ol’ maid
-school-marm. Take the lead, pard. I’m follerin’ clost behind. The
-sooner yuh starts, the better. These dad-gummed mosquiters is shore
-a-eatin’ off me fierce.”</p>
-
-<p>Pete in the lead rode out on a sand bar and his horse waded out into
-the stream. The swift-flowing water swirled and eddied about the
-animal’s legs.</p>
-
-<p>“That high peak yonder, Shorty,” he called softly as his horse hit
-swimming water. “Right yuh are, Peter.”</p>
-
-<p>No further word was spoken. Shorty set his jaws as the swift current
-swept his horse downstream. Easily, he slipped from the saddle and
-with a hand holding to his horse’s mane, swam alongside. The water was
-cool enough to freshen his tired nerves. He grinned to himself and
-jerked his hat down on his head with his free hand. Ahead of him he
-could see Pete and his horse. Both horses swam high in the water.</p>
-
-<p>Suddenly, like a bobbing cork pulled by a string, Pete and his mount
-were sucked beneath the surface.</p>
-
-<p>“Undercurrent,” muttered Shorty as he filled his lungs with a deep
-breath of air.</p>
-
-<p>Then he and his horse went under as if drawn by an invisible hand. In
-reality but a moment, yet it seemed an hour to the cowpuncher, and
-they again came to the top.</p>
-
-<p>“All right?” called a voice from ahead.</p>
-
-<p>“Settin’ purty,” he called back.</p>
-
-<p>The horses were blowing softly with a rattling noise. Unexcited,
-swimming stoutly, they battled against the current. Shorty splashed
-water against the side of his horse’s head to guide the animal a point
-downstream. Once more he was heading straight for the sharp point that
-loomed black against the sky.</p>
-
-<p>A dark, misshapen object bobbed up ahead. It was a big tree, half
-submerged, floating downstream. With swift, sure movements, Shorty
-swung his swimming horse to face straight up-stream against the
-current.</p>
-
-<p>“Easy now, ol’ hoss,” he murmured soothingly. “Jest kinda mark time
-fer a minute till yon snag drifts on to St. Louis. That’s the idee.
-Now she’s gone.”</p>
-
-<p>And they were under way once more. Ahead, Pete was watching for snags
-and had worked his way back until he now clung to his horse’s tail.
-Behind him, Shorty was doing the same. A scant hundred feet ahead the
-black shadow of the bank rose ominously. Pete scanned the unbroken
-shadow for a trace of the trail.</p>
-
-<p>Momentary panic clutched Pete. Where the trail should be, only a
-perpendicular wall showed. Either he was above or below the trail that
-meant escape from the treacherous river. Then the panic passed, giving
-way to dogged, unyielding determination. He dared not call out to his
-companion for fear of being overheard by the men they sought. He swung
-his horse to breast the current and waited for the coming of Shorty.</p>
-
-<p>A moment and the little puncher was alongside, careful to keep his
-distance lest the horses paw each other. The animals were breathing
-hard now. It had been a desperately hard swim. How long their strength
-and courage would hold out was a problem that might easily mean death
-to men and beasts.</p>
-
-<p>“Missed ’er,” whispered Pete hoarsely. “We got to chance it downstream,
-I reckon.”</p>
-
-<p>Swimming squarely against the current, their horses had been losing
-ground slowly. Shorty nodded and, gripping his floating saddle
-strings, pulled himself alongside the neck of his horse. He deftly
-slipped free his rope strap and flipped the end of his lariat to Pete.
-Pete caught it and with a nod, slipped the end under his armpits and
-knotted it. Shorty passed his loop over his head and under his arms,
-then drew it tight. Now, if one of them should find footing along that
-treacherous bank, he could save his companion. On the other hand, if
-one of them went under, the other would meet the same fate.</p>
-
-<p>“Both or neither,” explained Shorty in a grim whisper, then swung his
-horse downstream. “Here goes nothin’.”</p>
-
-<p>Two pairs of bloodshot, straining eyes swept the bank that slipped
-past so swiftly. Shorty now was in the lead, Pete ten feet behind, the
-slack of the rope coiled in his hand to keep from tangling. Both men
-were taking it with deadly calm as they fought their battle against
-the death that lurked in the muddy, swirling water.</p>
-
-<p>Suddenly Shorty’s horse ceased swimming. The animal’s legs were swept
-downstream and he floated.</p>
-
-<p>“Gone belly-up, Pete,” Shorty grunted.</p>
-
-<p>“Look out!” called Pete in a hoarse whisper, as his horse lunged
-forward in the water in an effort to climb on top of the floating
-horse.</p>
-
-<p>Now indeed, the situation was critical. Shorty ducked beneath the
-striking forefeet of Pete’s horse and with every ounce of his
-strength, jerked at his hackamore rope. Pete did likewise. The melee
-of struggling horses and men drifted apart. To the left, a narrow
-ribbon of light cut the dark wall of the bank.</p>
-
-<p>“The trail, thank &#8212;&#8212;,” muttered Pete and, with a jerk that seemed to
-tear the ligaments in his arm, wrenched at the hackamore rope. An
-agonizing moment, then his horse lunged shoreward and found footing.</p>
-
-<p>The weight of Shorty’s horse, swimming once more, hindered the puncher
-greatly as he fought the current, his eyes fixed on that strip of
-light that meant safety. Loath to let loose his horse, he fought off
-the temptation to turn the animal loose. The horse was becoming
-panicky now, snorting and lunging, pawing at the man ahead of him in
-the water. Flinty, steel-shod hoofs broke the water a scant two feet
-behind Shorty’s head.</p>
-
-<p>Pete, in the saddle now, dallied the slack rope around his saddle
-horn. His stockinged heels pressed the heaving sides of his tired
-horse.</p>
-
-<p>Back in the water, Shorty felt the rope beneath his arms go tight.
-Both his hands grasped the hackamore rope of his struggling horse. The
-noose beneath his arms tightened till it seemed to be cutting him in
-two. He clamped his jaws and gripped the hackamore rope. His arms
-seemed to be stretching until they loosened in the sockets. Seconds
-seemed eternity. Then he felt himself being dragged along the clay
-bank of the trail that led upward. He dimly saw his horse flounder
-ashore and stand with wide-spread legs and lowered head on the bank.
-With a grunt of utter relief he let go the hackamore rope.</p>
-
-<hr class='tb' />
-
-<img alt='' src='images/gun.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>“Stick ’em up!” bawled a hoarse voice from above.</p>
-
-<p>A spurt of flame and the roar of a gun, then Pete’s voice, trembling a
-bit.</p>
-
-<p>“Got him, Shorty. Are you all right?”</p>
-
-<p>A violent choking, gasping sound from Shorty and Pete, gun in hand,
-cast off the rope and, leaping to the ground, slid down the trail to
-his companion’s side.</p>
-
-<p>“Good gosh, man! What’s wrong?” he whispered, loosening the rope and
-peering into Shorty’s writhing features.</p>
-
-<p>Shorty scrambled to his feet, reaching for his gun.</p>
-
-<p>“My chaw. Swallered ’er. Let’s go,” he gasped, and lunged forward to
-throw himself upon a dark blot that moved along the bank.</p>
-
-<p>The dull thud of a gun barrel sounded as it struck something.</p>
-
-<p>“Your shot jest winged him, Pete. He’s out fer a spell now. Gimme the
-rope and we’ll hog-tie him. Then let’s git outa here.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yo’re covered, &#8212;&#8212; yuh!” called a hidden voice. “Plug ’em if they
-make a move, Bill. “Stick them &#8212;&#8212; hands in the air.”</p>
-
-<p>Two rapid shots cut the darkness and Shorty felt the air of a lead
-slug pass his cheek.</p>
-
-<p>“Whupped!” he grunted and raised his hands. “I’ve laid down my hand,
-feller,” he called. “Foller suit, Pete, they got us foul.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2>IX</h2>
-
-<img alt='' src='images/cards.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>A killer is, with mighty few exceptions, a killer because of his own
-desires. Black Jack, foreman for the LF, was no exception. He did not
-even, secretly or openly, offer the plea that he was a victim of
-circumstance. He had killed men. He would kill more men. His past was
-a sealed book, his future a gamble and thus he met each day as it
-came. Making no prayer, he branded as weak any man who believed in a
-God. A half-breed, and the blend was dangerously bad for he had
-inherited the baser traits of both races.</p>
-
-<p>Now, as he looked along the barrel of his Winchester to find Pete
-Basset at the end of it, his white teeth flashed in a smile that was
-unpleasant to see. The bushy black beard hid the cruel lines about his
-mouth, but the narrow slits of black that were his eyes, glittered as
-the moonlight struck them. A brown finger pressed the trigger, then
-paused uncertainly.</p>
-
-<p>The taint in his mixed blood, thrown back to some breech-clouted
-ancestor, now stayed his hand. He hated Pete Basset and a bullet
-between the boy’s eyes would be too mercifully quick an end. His
-trigger finger eased off.</p>
-
-<p>Pete Basset, shocked and not a little disappointed at Shorty’s easy
-surrender, hesitated uncertainly, gun lowered, making no move to raise
-his hands nor return the fire. He realized with a sickening feeling in
-the pit of his stomach, that Black Jack and his men were well hidden
-and on higher ground that prevented a rush. He and Shorty, on the
-other hand, stood in plain view. Resistance meant death. Shorty had
-shown judgment, not a yellow streak. He dropped his gun and raised
-his hands.</p>
-
-<p>Shorty, the lariat still in his hands, elevated his arms skyward and
-grinned weakly. The soft drip-drip of water from their soaked clothes
-on to the hard clay was the only sound that broke the quiet of the
-night.</p>
-
-<p>Behind the willow clump, Black Jack lay aside his Winchester and drew
-his .45.</p>
-
-<p>“The little ’un brung a rope, Bill,” he announced in a jeering tone as
-he stepped into the open. “Mebbeso it’ll come in right handy to string
-’em up. Ketch ropes is scarce and hangin’ a man spoils a rope fer use.
-Bad luck to use one that’s snaked a man tuh &#8212;&#8212;.”</p>
-
-<p>Followed by another man, he stepped carefully down the incline.</p>
-
-<p>“Howdy, Black Whiskers,” said Shorty glibly. “When yuh go through my
-pockets after you’ve made a corpse outa me, yuh’ll find four bits in
-my off flank pocket. Buy yorese’f a shave with it.”</p>
-
-<p>Holding his gun in careless readiness, Black Jack stepped closer,
-still on the incline. Shorty noticed that the single action gun was
-not cocked but that the breed’s thumb was on the hammer.</p>
-
-<p>“If yuh got ary more comical sayin’s in yore system,” he sneered, git
-shet of ’em. I understand as how hangin’ kinda interferes with a man’s
-voice. Bill, tie Basset up. I’ll tend to this mouthy one.”</p>
-
-<p>Black Jack’s hand slipped hipward and produced a pair of steel
-handcuffs. He was clear of the incline now and on a level with Shorty,
-standing but a couple of feet distant.</p>
-
-<p>“Jest lay aside yore hangin’ rope, little man, and hold yore lily
-white paws out fer a nice pair uh bracelets.”</p>
-
-<p>Shorty’s right hand flicked forward from the wrist with a deft, swift
-movement. The round noose shot out, settled, and tightened with such
-abruptness that Black Jack was caught off his guard. Shorty hurled
-himself backward, jerking the breed from his feet. The .45 exploded
-harmlessly.</p>
-
-<p>Pete threw himself forward as Bill shot. The youth’s hand clutched the
-gun on the ground and, rolling over with a catlike twist, he fired at
-the shadowy form that came through the air at him like a mountain lion
-springing on its prey. His shot missed Bill by inches and their bodies
-met in a thudding crash to writhe and twist in locked embrace.</p>
-
-<p>Shorty’s wet socks slipped on the water-soaked clay bank as he jerked
-the rope. Black Jack, the shining handcuffs now a nasty weapon, was
-upon him, the steel manacles crashing full into Shorty’s face. A grunt
-of pain and the little puncher’s hand gripped the black whiskers and
-jerked. His other fist swung at the man’s jaw.</p>
-
-<p>Again and again the steel cuffs clinked and clashed against the
-cowpuncher’s face. They came away each time speckled with blood.
-Shorty, on his back underneath the breed, pulled the harder on the
-black whiskers and his free arm went around the sinewy brown neck.
-Muscles flexed and tightened like a steel-jawed trap and the blows
-from the handcuffs became less effective as Shorty slowly pulled the
-breed down to him.</p>
-
-<p>Then, with a writhing, twisting movement used by professional
-wrestlers, the little puncher slid from under the other’s bulk, still
-holding the black head in the crook of his arm. A short arm jab,
-vicious and effective, caught Black Jack’s jaw, bringing a grunt of
-pain from the breed.</p>
-
-<p>From the shelter of the high bank moved the man whom Shorty had
-knocked out with his gun. The man was crawling toward Shorty and Black
-Jack, his eyes on Shorty’s gun that lay close by. His hand closed over
-the weapon and he sprang forward, his right arm dangling awkwardly at
-his side, the gun in his left hand.</p>
-
-<p>Shorty saw him and with a terrific effort rolled over, dragging the
-striking, snarling half-breed with him. The wounded man, cursing
-methodically to fight off pain and dizziness, stumbled forward and
-flung himself on top the two. His gun thudded against Shorty’s head.
-Once, twice, three times. Shorty’s grip on the black-bearded head
-relaxed and he went limp, his bleeding, mangled features ghastly in
-the light of the white moon.</p>
-
-<p>Pete and Bill, panting and fighting like wild beasts, fought without
-rules nor thought of fair tactics. Not a word passed their clamped
-jaws as they rolled to the water’s edge and under the feet of Shorty’s
-horse.</p>
-
-<p>The horse, frightened, lashed out at the struggling forms. A shod hoof
-struck Bill in the ribs and with a groan, he relaxed his grip. Rolling
-free of the horse’s flying hoofs, Pete staggered to his feet, aiming a
-kick at Bill’s face. The stocking-clad heel caught Bill on the cheek.
-With a last effort, the outlaw clutched Pete’s leg and wrapped his
-arms about it, jerking Pete off balance and bringing him to the
-ground.</p>
-
-<p>Black Jack, his breath coming in sobbing gasps, had regained his feet.
-He saw Pete lurch to a sitting posture.</p>
-
-<p>“Here!” called the wounded man and thrust the .45 into Black Jack’s
-hand. “Finish the &#8212;&#8212;!”</p>
-
-<p>The half-breed jumped forward. The next instant the gun barrel crashed
-against Pete’s head and the fight was over.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2>X</h2>
-
-<img alt='' src='images/trees.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>“Ladd,” said Joe Kipp, breaking a long silence that followed their
-departure from the Basset ranch, “how long was you at the lone
-cottonwood afore yuh let me see yuh?”</p>
-
-<p>“Mebbeso half an hour, Kipp. I laid in the brush watchin’ yuh.”</p>
-
-<p>“Figgered yuh must ’a’ bin cold-trailin’ me er you’d uh ketched up
-with me long afore yuh did. I’d kinda like tuh know jest how yuh
-figger me out.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s a hard question, pardner. Dang me if I kin read yore hand even
-when I’ve had a look at yore hole card. The sign all says that yo’re
-playin’ a double game. Yet I’d shore hate tuh think it.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m obliged, Ladd. I hope tuh clear some things up afore many hours.
-Supposin’ I tell yuh that by comin’ along with me now, yo’re hinderin’
-instead uh helpin’ things?”</p>
-
-<p>“’Twouldn’t keep me from comin’, Kipp. Not when my Shorty pardner is
-mixed up in the deal. I aim tuh see it through, regardless.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad’s tone and the look in his eyes forbade further argument.</p>
-
-<p>“You heerd me and Black Jack talkin’?”</p>
-
-<p>“Only some, when yuh raised yore voices. I heered enough tuh <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>sabe</i>
-that you was aimin’ tuh lay fer Fox, that was about all.”</p>
-
-<p>“You got reason tuh want Fox killed. Yet yuh kept me from doin’ it.
-Why?”</p>
-
-<p>“Because, like I said, I knowed you wa’n’t that sort uh man and it
-wouldn’t he’p none tuh kill Fox from the brush. I reckon yo’re goin’
-tuh clear up things if yuh kin and I’ll lend a hand if the play comes
-up. I hope yuh come out winners, Kipp.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yet yuh won’t trust me tuh go alone?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not when Shorty’s needin’ me, no.” Again an uncomfortable silence
-fell over them, unbroken till they reached the edge of the bad-lands.</p>
-
-<p>“There’ll be a man on guard farther along this trail,” said Kipp. “If
-I ride up alone, he’ll let me pass. If you come along, there’ll be
-shootin’ and we’ll lose a horse apiece and go back afoot. Will yuh
-trust me to go that far by myself? I’ll signal yuh from that bald knoll
-when I’ve cleared the trail.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad pondered this for a long moment as he searched Kipp’s eyes.
-Apparently satisfied with what he read in the older man’s face, he
-nodded briefly.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll wait half an hour, Kipp. Then I’ll be comin’, regardless uh ary
-signal. Them that tries tuh stop me will find they got a game.”</p>
-
-<p>Kipp nodded and, leaving Tad squatted on the ground rolling a cigaret,
-rode on.</p>
-
-<p>Tad consulted a battered silver-cased watch and shoved it back in his
-overall pocket. A squint at the sun told him that dusk was but an hour
-distant. Smoke curling lazily from his nostrils, he watched Kipp out
-of sight.</p>
-
-<p>Despite Kipp’s apparent duplicity, Tad liked the white-haired old man
-and felt certain that he was not being tricked. There had been an
-indefinable something in the sheriff’s eyes that puzzled Tad. He felt
-certain that whatever hold Fox and Black Jack had on Kipp, it must be
-a terrible one. He knew that Kipp’s momentary lapse of physical
-courage was a minor point. There was something far greater than any
-fear of physical pain that threatened the sheriff. Now Kipp was about
-to break that hold. What would be the outcome?</p>
-
-<p>Thus pondering, Tad saw Kipp ride to the bare knoll and signal with
-his hat. Tad was on his feet and in the saddle before the hat quit
-waving. Across Tad’s saddle pommel lay his Winchester, a shell in the
-barrel, the hammer at half-cock.</p>
-
-<p>Kipp met him, smiling thinly.</p>
-
-<p>“Where’s the guard?” asked Tad. “Gagged and hog-tied in the brush
-yonder. He quit easy when I threw down on him. We’re safe now till we
-hit the river bottom. They only had one man on guard today. They bin
-brandin’, so the gent told me. We’ll take our time now. Dark’ll come
-on quick here in the cañons and we’ll slip into the Pocket afore they
-spot us.”</p>
-
-<p>“How many men down there?”</p>
-
-<p>“Hard tuh tell. Mebbe three-four. Mebbe so a dozen. They drift in and
-out. If they bin brandin’, like as not there’ll be half a dozen.”</p>
-
-<p>Kipp led the way along the narrow trail that now led along the side of
-the shale cliff. Tad understood now why it required but one man to
-guard the trail. A single man could, by hiding behind the rimrock
-above, drop as many men as he had cartridges in his gun. If Kipp were
-bent on tricking him, now was his chance.</p>
-
-<p>Tad felt a shiver pass along his spine, and glanced uneasily about
-him. Then he shifted his gun to cover Kipp, grimly determined to shoot
-if treachery showed in the shape any movement near the rimrock.</p>
-
-<p>Kipp, turning in his saddle to address some remark, saw Tad’s gun
-covering him. The faint smile on the old officer’s lips could not hide
-the pain of humiliation in his eyes. Tad grinned uneasily but did not
-shift the position of his gun.</p>
-
-<p>The sheriff faced forward once more, the remark he had been about to
-make unspoken. In the fading light, Tad gazed at the tufts of
-snow-hued hair beneath the battered hat. The shoulders beneath Kipp’s
-faded jumper sagged as if beneath the weight of some great load.</p>
-
-<p>“&#8212;&#8212;,” muttered Tad, and shifted his Winchester so that the weapon
-rested across his saddle, muzzle toward the cliff.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll borry the use of a chaw if yuh got ary handy,” he called.</p>
-
-<p>In the pocket of his chaps was a plug, but he somehow felt ashamed of
-mistrusting Kipp and wanted the old fellow to know that he was no
-longer covered.</p>
-
-<p>Kipp tossed him a piece of tobacco, noticing the while that Tad’s
-Winchester now pointed in another direction. He grinned
-understandingly and they rode on down the steep trail.</p>
-
-<p>Dark fell like a black blanket, to be followed by the pale moonlight.
-From the river bottom, miles below, the faint sound of shots echoed,
-reechoed, and died away, leaving a silence charged with a sinister
-foreboding that caused Tad Ladd’s eyes to narrow dangerously.</p>
-
-<p>“Can’t we make better time down this &#8212;&#8212; trail, Kipp?” he growled.
-“I don’t like them shots.”</p>
-
-<p>“Goin’ faster might mean a fall, Ladd. The more haste, the less speed,
-right now. We can’t do them boys much good if we gits crippled up.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad, boiling with impatience, realized the truth of Kipp’s assertion.
-It seemed hours before the trail widened and they found themselves on
-level ground in the deep shadow of towering cottonwoods.</p>
-
-<p>The bawling of a cow, hunting her calf. The distant crack of brush as
-a white-tail buck broke cover. The mournful call of a horned owl. Then
-silence.</p>
-
-<p>“The corrals is nigh a mile from here,” whispered Kipp. “The cabins
-lays beyond them a hundred yards. It might be wise fer me tuh go on
-alone. They know that Pete Basset broke out and there may be a man er
-two scattered along the trail. Two of us ’ud look queer. If I was tuh
-go on alone, I’d sorter spring ary traps they had set fer visitors,
-savvy, and not git shot. Trust me?”</p>
-
-<p>“Them shots we heered, Kipp. I don’t like tuh set here doin’ nothin’
-while mebbeso Shorty’s needin’ me bad.”</p>
-
-<p>“If he was needin’ yuh tuh help out ary gun scrap, there’d be more
-shots. If that shootin’ was sign of a fight, the fight’s done fit and
-won long ago. Best let me go on alone. Iffen I gits in a tight, I’ll
-shoot and you kin come a foggin’. Gimme half a hour. Then come on
-keerful.”</p>
-
-<p>If Kipp was bent on leading him into a trap, thought Tad, he would
-have done so before they quit the narrow trail.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll chance it, Sheriff,” he replied.</p>
-
-<p>Kipp nodded briefly and in a moment was lost to sight along the trail
-that faded into the tall trees.</p>
-
-<p>The sheriff’s horse made but little noise as it traveled along the
-trail. Minutes passed and his coming was not challenged. Then without
-warning, a sickening crash of breaking timber under the horse. Kipp
-and his mount dropped out of sight in the thinly covered pit. Snorting
-with fear, the horse went down, Kipp striving desperately to free
-himself from the falling animal. The sheriff’s head struck something
-solid and he lost consciousness.</p>
-
-<p>Two heavily armed men stepped from a clump of choke-cherry brush.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m right glad that &#8212;&#8212; deadfall ketched somethin’,” grinned one of
-them. “I shore sweat a plenty diggin’ her. Wonder how this gent got
-past the guard.”</p>
-
-<p>“I ketched sight uh his face as he dropped in,” growled the other. “It
-was Kipp. That’s how-come he got down the trail without bein’ drilled.
-Hope it didn’t bust the hoss’s leg.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ner Kipp’s neck. Black Jack’ll raise &#8212;&#8212; if he gits killed and a
-stranger gits put in the sheriff office. Fox’d have a shore tough time
-of it if a hard man was put in Kipp’s place. Lower the ladder and
-we’ll look over the damage.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’d give somethin’ tuh know what they got on old Kipp,” muttered the
-other as he lowered a ladder into the pit.</p>
-
-<p>One of them went down the ladder. A moment later a match sputtered and
-lit up the inky blackness of the hole.</p>
-
-<p>“Kipp’s knocked out and the hoss is good as ever,” he called in
-guarded tones. “Better shove down the gangplank so we kin lead the
-critter up.”</p>
-
-<hr class='tb' />
-
-<img alt='' src='images/horsehead.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>A cleated plank runway was lowered and after some minutes of work the
-frightened horse was led to solid ground. Kipp, still unconscious and
-bleeding from a nasty scalp wound, was carried out.</p>
-
-<p>“You lead his hoss. I’ll pack him across my saddle.”</p>
-
-<p>Thus Joe Kipp was carried to the lighted cabin where Black Jack sat on
-the edge of a bunk smoking cigarets and taunting the two prisoners who
-were on the dirt floor, bound hand and foot, their backs against a log
-wall.</p>
-
-<p>“Where’d yuh git him?” asked Black Jack.</p>
-
-<p>“He rode into the pit.”</p>
-
-<p>Black Jack picked up a water bucket and threw the contents roughly
-into Kipp’s face. The sheriff groaned and opened his eyes. The breed
-stooped and plucked the .45 from Kipp’s scabbard, then resumed his seat
-on the bunk. Behind his half-closed eyes lay some nervous tension and
-his brows knitted in a scowl as he watched Kipp sputter and struggle
-to a sitting posture on the floor.</p>
-
-<p>Shorty and Pete exchanged a quick look but made no sound. Both were
-disheveled and Shorty’s face was swollen and caked with dried blood.
-Yet his eyes blazed defiantly and about his bruised lips played a
-sardonic smile. Pete, erect and defiant, strained cautiously at the
-ropes that bound his arms. Both the prisoners divided their glances
-between Black Jack and Kipp.</p>
-
-<p>“Where’s Fox?” snapped Black Jack.</p>
-
-<p>“He ain’t dead, if that’s what yo’re drivin’ at,” returned Kipp.</p>
-
-<p>Black Jack seemed relieved at hearing this bit of news.</p>
-
-<p>“Miss him?” he sneered. “Er lose yore guts at the last minute?”</p>
-
-<p>“Neither.” Kipp was gathering his addled wits. “How long have I bin
-knocked out?”</p>
-
-<p>“Ten minutes, rough guessin’,” grinned one of the men who had taken
-him from the pit.</p>
-
-<p>Kipp, thinking of Tad, calculated swiftly. Fifteen minutes had passed
-since the two had parted. That meant that in fifteen minutes more, Tad
-would be riding along that trail into a similar trap perhaps.</p>
-
-<p>“Got ary more uh them &#8212;&#8212; holes around here fer a man tuh fall into?”
-he growled, feeling gingerly of his head.</p>
-
-<p>Black Jack laughed harshly.</p>
-
-<p>“Nope. One’s a-plenty, I reckon. How come yuh never lit no signal fire
-from the rimrock like yuh was told to?”</p>
-
-<p>“Fergot.”</p>
-
-<p>Kipp felt somewhat relieved to learn that Tad would not be trapped as
-he had been.</p>
-
-<p>“Fergot, eh?” Black Jack sneered. “Mebbe. Mebbe not. Looks tuh me like
-you was aimin’ tuh sneak in and take a look around. You bin weakenin’
-fer some time. When I left yuh last night, you was doin’ some nasty
-talkin’. ’Lowed you was through with me and Fox. By &#8212;&#8212;, I’ll see
-about that! Afore yo’re a hour older, I’ll have yuh messed up so &#8212;&#8212;
-tight you won’t never make a peep. See them two skunks settin’ yonder?
-They’re cashin’ in their chips tonight, savvy? And yo’re the gent tuh
-do the job. Then yuh kin go back to Hank Basset and be &#8212;&#8212; to yuh. Go
-back and tell him how yuh hung his son and the nosey runt of a
-would-be gunman that come in here with him! Tell Basset that. I’ll
-learn yuh to lay down on me!”</p>
-
-<p>The breed was literally shaking with rage now. His ugly lips twisted
-in a leering grin.</p>
-
-<p>“I aimed tuh shoot them two and dump ’em in the river. Hangin’ beats
-that all tuh &#8212;&#8212;, though. ’Specially with Sheriff Kipp tuh lead their
-hosses out from under ’em and leave ’em danglin’ to a cottonwood
-limb.”</p>
-
-<p>“&#8212;&#8212;!” said Kipp hoarsely, reading full well the cruel cunning in
-Black Jack’s smoldering eyes. “You won’t! If ary harm come to them two
-boys, you’ll hang fer it. I’ll hang with ’em afore I’ll mix up in such
-a low-down murder. I told yuh I’d come to the place where I was
-quittin’. I meant what I said. I’m givin’ you a chanct that you don’t
-noways deserve. I’m givin’ you twenty-four hours tuh quit the country.
-After that time, I’m goin’ after yuh and by &#8212;&#8212;, I’ll put yuh back in
-the pen where yuh belong.”</p>
-
-<p>Black Jack, calm again, sneered insultingly into the face of the
-sheriff.</p>
-
-<p>“I reckon yo’re drunk. Yo’re fergettin’ who you are, ain’t yuh?”</p>
-
-<p>“No,” said Kipp evenly, “I ain’t fergittin’. I’ve left papers behind
-me which tell the whole &#8212;&#8212; story. If I don’t come back in
-twenty-four hours there’ll be a hundred men in here to see what’s
-become uh me and to wipe out as low-down nest uh snakes as ever lived.
-I never lied tuh you. I ain’t lyin’ now. I’m givin’ you a fighting’
-chanct tuh make a getaway. Take it er leave it.”</p>
-
-<p>“You mean yo’re double-crossin’ me and Fox?” said Black Joe, his words
-falling slowly.</p>
-
-<p>“I mean that I’m wipin’ my slate clean afore I resigns as sheriff.
-Wipin’ it clean, regardless uh what it costs. I’m givin’ you a chanct
-tuh leave me and these two boys here and git out. Do yuh take it?”</p>
-
-<p>Kipp’s eyes were fixed on a battered alarm clock. The half hour was
-up. Tad would be starting. Even if he had a gun to fire a signal would
-only be putting Black Jack on guard. Tad would come cautiously. Fate
-would decide.</p>
-
-<p>A calculating gleam flashed in the breed’s eyes. Documentary evidence
-to a criminal is a dangerous weapon. Dead men may tell no tales, but a
-written statement is as a voice from beyond the grave.</p>
-
-<p>“Looks like yuh hold all the winnin’ cards this deal,” he said flatly.
-“Yuh shore out-figgered Fox when yuh planted them papers in yore safe
-tuh cover yore trail. I suppose yore friend Hank Basset holds the
-combination.”</p>
-
-<p>It was a shrewd bit of calculating and Black Jack’s acting was without
-fault. He was playing for the highest stakes a man may wager: Life and
-freedom. Never did a gambler play more shrewdly.</p>
-
-<p>Kipp, physically and mentally worn to the breaking point, was caught
-off guard.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, and Hank’s the man that’ll see justice done. I&#8212;&#8212;”</p>
-
-<p>Black Jack’s ugly laugh caught the sheriff up short. Too late, he
-realized the mistake he had made.</p>
-
-<p>“Bill,” ordered the breed quickly, “take a man and ketch the fastest
-mounts in the <i>remuda</i>. Ride tuh town and bust open that cracker-box
-safe. Bring all the papers that’s in it. Tell Fox tuh play safe fer a
-spell. Tell him that Alder Gulch’ll be needin’ a new sheriff. Kipp’s
-dead.”</p>
-
-<p>Bill and another man slipped outside and closed the door behind them.
-There now remained but two outlaws besides Black Jack. One of them was
-in a corner on a bunk, moaning from the pain of the broken arm Pete
-Basset had given him.</p>
-
-<p>Where was Tad? That was the sole thought in Joe Kipp’s mind now. The
-departure of Bill and the other man lessened the odds.</p>
-
-<p>“Better hog-tie the blattin’ old fool,” suggested Black Jack a moment
-later to the man who squatted against the closed door, a .45 in his
-hand.</p>
-
-<p>“Lemme roll a smoke first,” requested Kipp, reaching for tobacco,
-hoping to delay things till Tad showed.</p>
-
-<p>The man who had gotten to his feet hesitated.</p>
-
-<p>“Tie him, I said. Smoke be&#8212;&#8212;”</p>
-
-<p>Kipp leaped forward. A clubbed gun caught the old officer across the
-jaw, whirling him about. Another blow from the man’s gun while Black
-Jack looked on in scowling approval. Kipp sank limply to the floor.</p>
-
-<p>“Neat work. Now tie him afore he comes to. I’ll learn him what happens
-tuh them that loses their guts in this game.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2>XI</h2>
-
-<img alt='' src='images/clock8.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>“Half a hour and nary a sign uh Kipp.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad shoved his watch back in his overall pocket and swung into the
-saddle. He mentally berated himself for letting Kipp out of his sight.
-Here on strange ground, on a dangerous mission, he had thrown away his
-only vantage when he allowed the sheriff to go on alone. Kipp had as
-much as admitted that he had been playing a crooked game. What was to
-keep him from adding one more misdeed to those of the past?</p>
-
-<p>A shot from the brush, well aimed, and no one the wiser. These LF men
-were playing a desperate game for big stakes. They would not hesitate
-to kill a cowpuncher to gain their ends and avoid detection. Capture,
-for them, meant life imprisonment. Kipp admitted being on friendly
-terms with them. His every action showed plainly that this was not the
-sheriff’s first trip into the Pocket.</p>
-
-<p>With these annoying thoughts to bear him company, Tad rode on, rode
-with a .45 in his hand and his eyes scanning every blurred shadow
-beneath the cottonwoods. The big hand that held the gun did not shake.
-There was not a trace of fear nor weakening in the keen eyes that
-swept the trail ahead. He faced his future without flinching, with
-splendid disregard of the heavy odds against him.</p>
-
-<p>Years before, Goliad and the Alamo had known such men. They came from
-that heroic stock that followed Moses Austin to the Brazos River. No
-braver men ever lined sights amid spattering bullets than these
-Texans. So, as his sires had faced their enemies, so now did this son
-of Texas ride his trail.</p>
-
-<p>The ears of his horse twitched forward. The animal halted and Tad was
-on the ground, crouched in the animal’s shadow. Ahead in the trail
-gaped the pit that had trapped Kipp. On the edge of the black hole lay
-a hat. Kipp’s battered old felt.</p>
-
-<p>A moment’s cautious search proved the pit empty. Tad left his horse in
-the brush, removed his spurs and chaps, and, Winchester ready, slipped
-on afoot, avoiding the main trail as much as possible.</p>
-
-<p>Voices and the creak of saddle leather. Tad crouched in the shadow to
-put the approaching riders against the skyline. He could hear them
-talking now. Bill and his companion, bound for town. They spoke in low
-tones, barely audible to the listener.</p>
-
-<p>“Black Jack’s carryin’ this too &#8212;&#8212; far tuh suit me, Bill. I draws
-the line at murder, sheriffs especially. Once clear uh these
-bad-lands, I’m quittin’ the flats. Kipp’s plumb right, he’s holdin’ a
-paw full uh jokers, even if he dies a-holdin’ ’em. No more breeds fer
-me. They’re too danged coldblooded. Wait a minute while I tighten my
-cinch. This hoss swells up like a poisoned pup when yuh saddle him.”</p>
-
-<p>The two halted but a few feet from where Tad crouched. One of them
-swung to the ground.</p>
-
-<p>“Supposin’ we skirt town complete, pardner?” suggested Bill. “If we
-warns Fox, we gotta go through with it er shoot it out with that
-buzzard. We know too danged much tuh be let run loose over the range.
-I ain’t cravin’ none tuh match myself with Luther Fox. He’s lightnin’
-with a gun. Say we drifts east from the edge uh the Pocket?</p>
-
-<p>“Let this spread hold the sack. Black Jack ner Fox wouldn’t consider
-us if they was in a tight. That breed ’ud kill us the same as he aims
-tuh kill Kipp and Pete Basset and that short waddie. Say, them two kin
-shore scrap, mister. Only fer Slim a-lendin’ a hand, me’n the Apache
-would uh bin whupped neat. My hat’s off to ’em. Dang me if I don’t
-hope they gits away.”</p>
-
-<p>“Fat chance. The Injun is comin’ out in Black Jack. I wouldn’t give
-two-bits Mex. fer their chances.”</p>
-
-<p>They moved on, leaving Tad grinning in the darkness. The thought of
-Shorty and the others being in danger but made the lanky puncher the
-more cool. He waited impatiently until the two riders were out of
-sight, then moved on at a swifter gait.</p>
-
-<p>The lighted windows of the cabin showed ahead. Tad crept forward with
-the stealth of an Indian. A few moments and he was at one of the
-windows, peering inside the cabin.</p>
-
-<p>Shorty, Pete, and Kipp sat side by side, propped against the wall,
-legs stretched out in front of them. Kipp’s head sagged forward on his
-chest for he was still unconscious.</p>
-
-<p>In spite of the bruised and blood-caked condition of his face, it was
-visibly apparent that Shorty’s left cheek bulged with a huge wad of
-tobacco. Even as Tad looked, a brown stream shot forth from the
-bruised lips of the little puncher.</p>
-
-<p>“Missed him, Pete,” he grinned. “Gotta raise my sights. The range is
-plumb long and that spider’s crawlin’ kinda zig-zag like he was
-dodgin’. Bet another nickel on the next shot.”</p>
-
-<p>“Better put in the next few minutes sayin’ yore prayers, <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>hombre</i>,”
-said Black Jack, crossing to the stove to pour himself a cup of
-coffee. “A man as near the end uh the trail as you gents are, had
-orter be lookin’ fer a shallow crossin’.”</p>
-
-<p>“Injun,” said Shorty in his soft drawl, “when I’m cravin’ ary advice,
-I’ll ask fer it.”</p>
-
-<p>Another brown stream that barely missed the breed’s boot.</p>
-
-<p>“Owe yuh another nickel, Pete. That danged spider got plumb outa
-range. If yo’re honin’ tuh be of any he’p around here, Whiskers,
-herd that insect back this way.”</p>
-
-<p>Pete Basset, marveling at the little cow puncher’s superb nerve,
-thrust aside his worries and smiled faintly. Even the guard at the
-door eyed Shorty with approval.</p>
-
-<p>Slim, of the broken arm, groaned less loudly as he watched Shorty scan
-the dirt floor for another spider.</p>
-
-<p>A queer lump rose in Tad’s throat as he looked at Shorty’s battered
-features and saw the split lips twist in a grin.</p>
-
-<p>“The &#8212;&#8212; li’l’ ol’ game rooster,” mused the big puncher, racking his
-brain for a plan of attack.</p>
-
-<p>Kipp groaned feebly and opened his eyes. Black Jack, a cup of coffee
-in his left hand, leered into the sheriff’s pain-shot eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“Mebbe so that rap between the horns brung yuh around to some sense,”
-he said, fixing Kipp with narrowed gaze. “Had ary change uh mind while
-yuh was asleep?”</p>
-
-<p>“No.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yo’re forcin’ my hand, mind. I’ve gone too far tuh do any
-back-trailin’ in this game and you know it. I’m killin’ off these two
-gents because they know too much. They come a-huntin’ trouble and they
-got it, a hull bellyful. I sent word tuh Fox that you’d be killed.
-That was a lie. I’m keepin’ yuh here till that Basset deal is closed
-and I sell out tuh Fox. Then I’ll turn yuh loose, and me’n these boys
-is driftin’ to fresh range. I’m leavin’ yuh to settle with Fox if yuh
-got the guts tuh go through with it. I’ll be a long ways gone so yuh
-can’t do me no harm, but you kin make it hot fer Luther.”</p>
-
-<p>Black Jack chuckled at the cleverness of his plan. He drained his
-coffee at a gulp.</p>
-
-<p>“Want tuh be hung er shot, you two?” he asked the other two.</p>
-
-<p>“Yonder comes another spider, Pete,” said Shorty, ignoring Black Jack.
-“What’s the odds I don’t hit ’im?”</p>
-
-<p>But a moment before, while Black Jack was talking to Kipp, Shorty had
-looked up at the window and square into the eyes of his partner. Yet
-he had given no sign that he had seen Tad, save that his left eyelid
-had dropped in a covert wink. He did not glance again at the window
-lest he betray Tad’s presence. He guessed that Tad was alone and was
-waiting for the right moment to open the attack. Shorty felt sure that
-Black Jack would put up a fight, even if Tad’s gun covered him. He had
-seen men of Black Jack’s breed before.</p>
-
-<p>Death, to the breed, would be preferable to capture. Slim could still
-use a gun and the guard would fight. The light would be shot out and
-Tad would not shoot into the darkened room lest he hit a friend. It
-was a situation that would require generalship.</p>
-
-<p>“&#8212;&#8212;, Black Jack,” put in the guard. “Hangin’s a lot uh bother. Let’s
-knock ’em on the head and throw ’em in the river. If their carcasses
-wash ashore, there’s no bullet holes in ’em and nobody tuh blame. They
-was drownded crossin’ the river, savvy?”</p>
-
-<p>“Mebbe yo’re right. We’ll pack ’em to the river like they are. Time
-enough tuh cut the ropes off ’em when we’ve got ’em knocked out. Slim,
-keep a eye on the sheriff while we’re gone. I’ll pack the little ’un.”</p>
-
-<p>Black Jack, his black eyes hard as flint, lips set in a thin line,
-stooped to lift Shorty.</p>
-
-<p>A brown streak of tobacco juice shot out, catching the breed squarely
-in the eyes. With a howl of pain as the stinging nicotine blinded him,
-the outlaw leader sprang erect, hands to his eyes.</p>
-
-<p>A shot, accompanied by tinkling glass. “Stick ’em up!” bawled Tad.</p>
-
-<p>The man bending over Pete whirled, shooting from the hip at the
-window. Tad’s shot caught the outlaw in the shoulder, spinning him
-about.</p>
-
-<p>“Watch the jasper on the couch, Tad!” yelled Shorty, rolling across
-the floor in twisting flops and striking the legs of Black Jack, who
-was groping for the table where the lamp stood. Cursing in a monotone,
-his eyes blinded and hot with pain, the half breed fell across
-Shorty’s form.</p>
-
-<p>Tad, gun in hand, sprang through the doorway. Black Jack shot
-desperately at the least sound, and Tad felt the air of a passing
-bullet. Tad leaped forward, the high heel of his boot crunching the
-breed’s gun hand into the dirt. The small bones cracked sickeningly
-and Black Jack cursed as he groped for the gun with his left hand.</p>
-
-<p>A streak of fire from the bunk. Slim’s bullet tore through the crown
-of Tad’s hat. Tad’s gun roared, tearing the .45 from Slim’s hand.</p>
-
-<p>“Both wings busted,” snarled Slim, and followed the statement by a
-string of curses.</p>
-
-<p>The other man was in a heap, whining and begging.</p>
-
-<p>“Kill the yaller coyote,” yelled Slim. “Kill the howling &#8212;&#8212;! Fight,
-you &#8212;&#8212; polecat!”</p>
-
-<p>Tad was on top of Black Jack now, his long arms swinging like flails
-as the breed fought like a trapped cougar. A terrific swing and the
-breed went limp.</p>
-
-<p>The powder smoke was stifling. Every man’s ears rang from the roar of
-the big calibered six-shooters. Slim was shrieking curses and begging
-some one to kill the wounded outlaw who put up so tame a fight.</p>
-
-<p>Tad cut Shorty’s ropes first.</p>
-
-<p>“Thanks, Ox,” grinned the little puncher. “Gimme that rope and I’ll
-tie that Injun. Where’s yore men, big feller?”</p>
-
-<p>“I come with Kipp. Quit a runnin’ off at the head, runt, and tie up
-that black-muzzled skunk afore he comes alive and makes me kill ’im.”</p>
-
-<p>Pete and Kipp were quickly freed. They grinned their thanks and set to
-work silencing Slim and the other man.</p>
-
-<p>“Pete,” grinned the jubilant Shorty, “meet up with my ol’ Tad pardner.
-Homelier’n a muley cow, but we can’t all of us be han’some. Yuh done
-got here jest about time, feller. The Injun was kinda goin’ on the
-notion that all good cow hands was dead ’uns and was rearin’ tuh
-convert me’n Pete. I owes Peter twenty cents, Taddie. Bein’ kinda
-nervous inside, I missed that &#8212;&#8212; spider every shot. I ain’t so good
-as I used tuh be at&#8212;&#8212;”</p>
-
-<p>“Fer gosh sake, dry up, runt,” grumbled Tad. “Yuh dad-gummed li’l
-locoed idjit. Snuk off on me and overmatched yorese’f, didn’t yuh? I’d
-orter ’a’ let yuh git yore needin’s.”</p>
-
-<p>With a snort of disapproval, he turned to Kipp.</p>
-
-<p>The sheriff had moved to the open doorway and was staring with
-thoughtful eyes into the night. He turned as Tad’s hand rested on his
-shoulder. Together they stepped outside.</p>
-
-<p>“That &#8212;&#8212; hole ketched me, Ladd. The fall knocked me out and they had
-me foul when I come to. I done my best, which was a &#8212;&#8212; of a pore
-showin’.”</p>
-
-<p>“No man kin do more’n his best, Joe. It’s over now, let’s fergit it.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad shoved out his hand, but Kipp shook his head.</p>
-
-<p>“It ain’t over fer me, Ladd. I got my work cut out fer me. When I’ve
-done that work, I’ll shake hands if yo’re still in the notion.”</p>
-
-<p>“Meanin’ Fox and you locks horns?”</p>
-
-<p>“Partly that. When we bring this herd up outa the brakes, Fox’ll know
-that his game is lost. It’ll be either run er shoot it out, and he
-ain’t the runnin’ kind. It’ll be me er him, that’s all. The range is
-too small tuh hold us both.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad nodded.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m layin’ my bets on you, Joe.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m obliged, pardner.”</p>
-
-<p>They turned and entered the cabin.</p>
-
-<hr class='tb' />
-
-<img alt='' src='images/outlaw.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>There followed half an hour of cross-questioning the outlaw who had
-begged for mercy when he had been wounded. They learned that there
-were no more men to be accounted for. Tad told of the conversation he
-had overheard between Bill and his companion.</p>
-
-<p>“Then we got clear trail ahead,” said Kipp. “Bill’ll pick up the gent
-at the rimrock, bein’ they’re sorter pardners. We might as well bed
-down and take it easy till mornin’. We’ll take turns standin’ guard.
-There’d orter be beds out under the trees so’s them as ain’t on guard
-kin rest. Come daylight, we’ll take the herd out and I’ll take the
-pris’ners tuh Hank’s place.”</p>
-
-<p>This plan met with hearty approval. Not a man there but needed rest.
-Tad took first guard.</p>
-
-<p>Black Jack, conscious now, had lapsed into a sullen silence. His black
-eyes were opaque, his bearded features expressionless. No amount of
-questioning could open his thin lips.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s the Injun in him,” grinned Shorty as he and Pete followed Kipp
-outside in search of beds.</p>
-
-<p>“My work is done, Sheriff,” smiled Pete Basset when Shorty was out of
-earshot. “I’m giving myself up to you. I’m ready to go back to Deer
-Lodge.”</p>
-
-<p>“Better wait a day er so, Pete. I’m too danged busy tuh fool with yuh
-right now. Keep yor gun fer a spell. It may come in handy. Fox’ll have
-men with him when we meet up with him at the lone cottonwood to pay
-off yore dad’s note. This show ain’t over. Till it is, yo’re plumb
-free, savvy?”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s white of you, Sheriff. I’ve had a hunch for a long time that
-you were in cahoots with Fox and his gang. Black Jack’s recent talk
-clinches that suspicion. Also, it’s plain that you’re breaking with
-the LF. I want you to know that I’m for you.”</p>
-
-<p>Beyond the cottonwood grove near the corrals, Shorty was jerking the
-saddle from his tired horse and staking the animal out where the grass
-was high. He sang as he worked:</p>
-
-<div class='poetry'>
-<div class='stanza'>
-<div>“Parson, I’m a maverick, jest runnin’ loose an’ grazin’,</div>
-<div style='text-indent:1em'>Eatin’ where’s the greenest grass and drinkin’ where I choose;</div>
-<div>Had tuh rustle in my youth an’ never had no raisin’;</div>
-<div style='text-indent:1em'>Wasn’t never halter broke an’ I ain’t got much tuh lose;</div>
-<div>Used tuh sleepin’ in a sack an’ livin’ in a slicker;</div>
-<div style='text-indent:1em'>Church folks never branded me, I don’t know as they tried,</div>
-<div>Wisht you’d say a prayer fer me and try tuh make a dicker</div>
-<div style='text-indent:1em'>For the best they’ll give me when I cross the Big Divide.”</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2>XII</h2>
-
-<img alt='' src='images/midnight.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>At midnight Tad went outside to call Kipp for guard duty. He found the
-old officer sitting on a tarp-covered bed, smoking. “Herd’s a layin’
-peaceful, Joe. I done found a jug uh licker and Slim and the yaller
-’un has drunk theirselves tuh sleep. Black Jack’s the fust breed I
-ever run acrost that don’t tech t’rant’lar juice.”</p>
-
-<p>Kipp Smiled absently and got to his feet. Tad was pulling off his boots
-already. The sheriff’s form was silhouetted against the lighted
-doorway for a moment, then the door closed.</p>
-
-<p>Tad, in the act of pulling off a second tight-fitting boot, paused,
-his wide brow furrowed in thought. For as long as a minute he sat
-thus. Then he pulled the boot back on his foot and donned its mate. He
-listened for a moment to Shorty’s snoring then, moving stealthily, Tad
-made his way to the cabin, crouching by the window, the glass of which
-had been broken earlier in the night.</p>
-
-<p>“Hurry up and cut these ropes,” Tad heard Black Jack command in a
-low-pitched tone.</p>
-
-<p>“No,” came Kipp’s answer.</p>
-
-<p>The sheriff’s voice sounded tired, the voice of an old man who carried
-too heavy a burden.</p>
-
-<p>“Yuh know what it means fer us both if I talk?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes. I’ve done figgered it all out. I’m takin’ my medicine and givin’
-you yourn. There ain’t no use talkin’. I’m goin’ through with this. I
-aim tuh come clean with the hull story. How you killed a man when he
-ketched yuh stealin’ hosses. How yuh got life fer it. How I filed the
-bars uh the window on that Los Cruces jail and staked yuh to a hoss
-tuh git away into Mexico. Yuh said you’d never bother me no more. I
-come north, changed my name and lets the past lay dead. Then you and
-this Fox hunts me out and makes me play yore dirty game. I’m tellin’
-all that when the time comes. They kin do what they &#8212;&#8212; please with
-me. I’ll die in the pen knowin’ I’ve squared my accounts here on this
-side uh the Big Divide.”</p>
-
-<p>The breed made no reply. Tad, peering through the logs where a bit of
-chinking had dropped out, saw the sheriff squatted with his back
-against the door, a Winchester across his knees.</p>
-
-<p>Black Jack’s back was toward Tad. He could see the brown, muscular
-hands, one of them swollen and discolored, twist at the tightly
-knotted rope.</p>
-
-<p>“You’d bust the promise yuh made to a dyin’ woman?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ve kept that promise,” replied Kipp slowly, “more than kept it. I
-reckon you know that as well as I do.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” came the breed’s answer, “I reckon I do. You done yore share
-and more. I aim tuh do mine.”</p>
-
-<p>One of those brown hands had so maneuvered that it had slipped inside
-the waistband of the overalls and was hidden. Unseen by Kipp, it now
-came forth, holding a tiny derringer. Before Tad grasped the import of
-the breed’s intention, Black Jack had pressed the muzzles of the
-little double-barreled gun into his own back. A dull roar as the
-hammer fell and the soft-nosed .44 slug ripped its way upward through
-Black Jack’s spine and into his chest. A second thudding roar. Then
-the smoking gun dropped to the floor.</p>
-
-<p>Kipp was on his feet, staring strangely at the breed. Tad saw Black
-Jack’s face twist upward, white teeth showing in a twisted grin.</p>
-
-<p>“Yuh see I’m keepin’ my word,” said the breed through smiling lips.
-“I won’t bother yuh no more. I’m&#8212;goin’ now. So long.”</p>
-
-<p>The bearded head sagged forward. The body swayed sidewise. Kipp caught
-it and lowered him gently to the floor, dead.</p>
-
-<p>Tad, entering the cabin, saw dimly outlined in the blue smoke haze
-Kipp squatting beside the body of the dead outlaw, staring into the
-glazing black eyes of the half-breed who had made the old sheriff’s
-life a living hell.</p>
-
-<p>Kipp looked up. Tad was amazed to see the sheriff’s eyes wet with
-unshed tears.</p>
-
-<p>“He was my son, Ladd,” said Kipp simply.</p>
-
-<p>Tad stared stupidly for a moment, stunned at the sheriff’s words. Then
-he nodded understandingly. Slim and the other outlaw, stirred in their
-drunken slumber and slept on. Tad looked up to see Shorty, gun in
-hand, framed in the doorway.</p>
-
-<p>“Black Jack done killed hisse’f, Shorty,” Tad explained. “Pete awake?”</p>
-
-<p>“Awake and on the way, Tad. Yonder he comes, limpin’. Bet he stepped
-on a cactus in his sock feet.”</p>
-
-<p>“I reckon Joe wants tuh be left alone, pard. Tell&#8212;&#8212;”</p>
-
-<p>“Hold on, Ladd,” said Kipp quietly, rising. “Let Pete come. The time
-has come fer explainin’ off a few things. Come in and set.”</p>
-
-<p>The three younger men, awed into respectful silence by Kipp’s gravity,
-did as he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“I won’t take long, boys,” Kipp began. “Ner will I try fer tuh git
-yore sympathy. Yonder lays my boy, the only child by a marriage that
-never should uh bin. She was Apache, I was a white man. We was both
-kids at the time and mistook lonesomeness fer love. We run off and was
-married down in Mexico.</p>
-
-<p>“When she run off with me, she outlawed herself from her folks. They
-hated white men. I was &#8212;&#8212; fool enough tuh think I could make her
-over into a white woman. &#8212;&#8212; knows she was purty enough and as decent
-as ary white gal that ever lived. But in the towns, the white women
-shied off from her. Men called me a squaw-man and treated me as such.
-We wa’n’t so happy as we might uh bin them days, and we stuck clost to
-the little cow ranch I had down on the border. Then the boy come and
-fer a while it looked like we was goin’ tuh be happy onct more.</p>
-
-<p>“But it didn’t last long. I was gone a heap, round-ups and hoss
-huntin’ and such. She was left alone on the ranch. There was a good
-lookin’ Mexican that used tuh drop in sometimes. Fancy outfit and
-always shaved and wearin’ of a clean shirt. He had money. I didn’t
-know till later that he made it sellin’ stolen hosses. She was a right
-purty little thing. I come in from a week’s work in the hills tuh find
-her gone. She’d took the boy, then a kid ten years old, with her.</p>
-
-<p>“I oiled my gun and hit their trail. But &#8212;&#8212;, they was plumb gone. I
-rode over half uh Mexico, then come home tuh find my cattle scattered
-and run off and nary hoss left. The Mexicans had stole me blind,
-durin’ the twelve months I’ve bin gone. Travelers has tore down my
-corrals tuh build camp fires. A rattler strikes at me as I steps into
-the gutted cabin which I’d called home, and I’m that low in speerits
-that I goes back to my hoss without shootin’ the snake’s head off.
-Keepin’ clear uh town er the ranches where I’m known, I quits that
-range fer keeps.</p>
-
-<p>“Cowpunchin’, ridin’ grub-line, breakin’ broncs, night-hawkin’, even
-takin’ a whirl at cookin’, and I’m driftin’ like a tumbleweed afore a
-norther. Doin’ my share uh drinkin’ and &#8212;&#8212; raisin’ with the rest,
-aimin’ tuh fergit that I got a wife an’ kid a strayin’ somewheres. But
-it ain’t noways easy tuh fergit and I keeps driftin’ back across the
-border hopin’ tuh cut their trail and always I got a shell in my gun
-fer the greaser that’s mavericked my wife an’ kid.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s ten years from the day they run off from me, that I finds Mister
-Mex. I’m ridin’ into a li’l’ ol’ Mex town when I hears shootin’. I
-rounds the corner uh the <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>adobe rurale</i> fort in time tuh see a <i>rurale</i>
-firin’ squad blowin’ the smoke from their carbines. In a heap against
-a <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>’dobe</i> wall is my Mex, plumb full uh lead. They’ve done ketched him
-stealin’ hosses. His pardner, a ’breed kid, has out rode ’em and got
-away after killin’ three uh their men. That ’breed kid, understand, is
-my son.</p>
-
-<p>“That night I finds my wife down in a stinkin’, dirty <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>’dobe</i> shack in
-Gopher town. She’s got fat and black lookin’ and she’s dyin’ from
-pneumonia. I stays by her till she dies. The kid, a good lookin’,
-black-eyed young tough, drifts in as she’s goin’ out. Not knowin’ me,
-he stands there in the door a-coverin’ me till she tells him he’s
-linin’ his sights on his own dad. He’s there when I promises her to
-look after him and get him weaned off from his wild ways. He’s
-laughin’ at me and her when she closes her eyes and I feels her hand
-go limp in mine.</p>
-
-<p>“‘We’ll be startin’ fer Arizona when we’ve buried yore mother,’ I
-tells him.</p>
-
-<p>“‘The &#8212;&#8212; we will,’ he says, blowin’ cigaret smoke in my face. ‘You
-shore got a good imagination. Diggin’ graves is outa my line uh work
-and yore ways is too tame fer me. I jest dropped in tuh git some
-ca’tridges and a bottle uh mescal. My father, eh? A &#8212;&#8212; of a father,
-you are. And &#8212;&#8212; yuh, don’t go tryin’ tuh reform me, <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>sabe</i>? Bury the
-squaw if yuh feel like it, then go back to where yuh belong.’</p>
-
-<p>“He steps out into the dark and is gone. The next time I sees him,
-he’s in jail at Los Cruces, bound fer Florence tuh serve a life
-sentence. I brings him some smokin’ and pays off his law sharp and
-figgers I’ve done my best. But he gits under my hide about this here
-promise I done made his mother. He swears he’ll quit the country
-complete and reform if I gits him loose. I weakens and that night I
-lets him out.</p>
-
-<p>“I changes my name and drifts to Montana, aimin’ tuh begin fresh and
-thinkin’ the kid has gone tuh South America and made a clean start.
-Fifteen years passes and I’m sheriff here. Then him and Fox shows up.
-The kid’s older now and his whiskers keeps me from recognizin’ him.</p>
-
-<p>“Me and Hank Basset rides into the brakes follerin’ the sign uh the
-stolen cattle. We splits up. I gits my hoss shot out from under me and
-takes to the brush. I jumps this Black Jack sudden, shootin’ the gun
-outa his hand. I’m puttin’ the ’cuffs on him when he tells me who he
-is.”</p>
-
-<p>Kipp paused. His hands went out in a weary gesture.</p>
-
-<p>“You kin guess the rest, boys. Fox and him a houndin’ me. They tell me
-that the night uh the Los Cruces jail break, a deputy was killed. The
-kid shot him, like as not. Him er Fox who was in town at the time,
-dickerin’ fer stolen hosses that the kid brung across the line. But
-they’ve laid the killin’ on to me and I’m wanted down there. Likewise
-the kid plays on this promise I done made his mother, sayin’ how I
-done wrong by her all the way through and if he’d had the right kind
-uh raisin’ he’d uh turned out different. Mebbe so, by gittin’ Fox and
-cleanin’ up this gang, I kin make up a mite fer what or’nariness I’ve
-done. Then I’m goin’ back tuh Los Cruces and let ’em do what they want
-with me. That’s the hull &#8212;&#8212; story, boys. The story that’s writ in
-black and white and lays in my safe. I want that you should know this
-afore I meets up with Fox.”</p>
-
-<hr class='tb' />
-
-<img alt='' src='images/pinecone.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>Opening the door, Joe Kipp stepped out into the night, his hair
-silvery white in the bright moonlight.</p>
-
-<p>“I wonder,” said Pete Basset, as if musing aloud, “what we can say to
-make him know we’re for him?”</p>
-
-<p>“Leave it tuh Tad,” whispered Shorty. “He kin do ’er. Hop to it,
-Taddie. Do it and I’ll give yuh them Chihuahua spurs yuh bin wantin’.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad gave his little partner a withering look, then stepped over to
-Black Jack’s dead body, looking down into the upturned face. Then he
-jerked the blanket off the snoring Slim and covered the body of Joe
-Kipp’s son.</p>
-
-<p>“I wish you would say something to him, Tad,” said Pete earnestly.
-“I’m afraid I’d make a mess of it.”</p>
-
-<p>“If I gotta, I gotta,” replied Tad grimly. “Shed them spurs, runt.”</p>
-
-<p>Tad met Kipp at the corral. He held out his hand to the old sheriff.</p>
-
-<p>Kipp’s eyes were misty as he gripped it. “That goes fer all of us,”
-said Tad simply.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2>XIII</h2>
-
-<img alt='' src='images/trees.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>Luther Fox swung a long leg across his saddle horn and thus at ease in
-his saddle, gazed at the rudely lettered sign nailed to the lone
-cottonwood. A cold cigar jutted from the corner of his thin-lipped
-mouth. The age-yellowed ivory butt of a long-barreled .45 poked itself
-from beneath the long tail of his rusty black coat. He removed the
-cigar from between his crooked teeth and sprayed the sign with tobacco
-juice. One or two brown specks were added to the already badly spotted
-white expanse of shirt front.</p>
-
-<p>“Barring &#8212;&#8212; and high water,” he addressed his two roughly garbed,
-heavily armed companions who had dismounted and squatted on the
-ground, “that sign will come off that tree before sundown.”</p>
-
-<p>“No more dead-line between Basset’s and the LF, eh, boss?”</p>
-
-<p>Fox nodded. The corners of his mouth twitching. Then he pointed with
-the butt of a home-made quirt to a small dust cloud, slowly approaching
-from the direction of the Basset place.</p>
-
-<p>“What do you make of it, boys? How many comin’?”</p>
-
-<p>“Two. Two hossbackers. Nary steer.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’ll be Basset and his sweet-tempered wife. We’re due to receive a
-tongue lashing, boys. &#8212;&#8212; a man that can’t do business without his
-&#8212;&#8212; cat of a woman tagging along. Killing’s too good an end for such
-females.”</p>
-
-<p>“I wonder where’s the cattle and them two waddies yuh hired, boss?”</p>
-
-<p>“Quit the country, no doubt. I sent a man over here yesterday to see
-’em. They’d pulled out and Basset was making no effort to gather the
-few head uh stuff he has on his range. As a matter of fact, Basset’s
-wife had the old fool penned off in the blacksmith shop.”</p>
-
-<p>Fox smiled faintly. The two punchers laughed coarsely.</p>
-
-<p>“Yuh aim tuh make a dicker fer the Basset iron, boss? Watch clost that
-ol’ Hank don’t sluff the ol’ lady off on yuh along with the brand.”</p>
-
-<p>Hank and Ma Basset came on slowly, their horses scuffing up puffs of
-yellow dust.</p>
-
-<p>The old couple looked tired and worried. Ma, dressed in bib overalls,
-flannel shirt, and an old slouch hat, filled her saddle to the point
-overflowing. Her eyes were a bit red as if from recent shedding of
-tears. Of the two, Hank looked the more downcast as they approached
-the lone tree that marked the boundary line. Low on Hank’s thigh swung
-a .45 in a weather-stained holster. Across Ma’s saddle pommel rested a
-sawed-off shotgun.</p>
-
-<p>“Looky here, Hank Basset, perk up. I don’t aim that Fox should see us
-down in the mouth. Land sakes, can’t yuh scare up a grin of some
-description to wear on yore face. You don’t see me sittin’ my hoss
-like a dogie in a blizzard.”</p>
-
-<p>At that moment her horse, an old flea-bitten gray, stumbled and went
-to his knees, jolting the breath out of Ma as her saddle horn jabbed
-her. Hank did his best to hide a grin. Ma, red-faced and gasping, gave
-him an angry look.</p>
-
-<p>“If that ain’t a cowpuncher for yuh! I do believe you’d laugh if I was
-to be killed by this crow-bait of a hoss. Now what’s so comical? What
-yuh grinnin’ at?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yuh ’lowed I was tuh perk up, Ma. I’m perkin’.”</p>
-
-<p>Hank’s hand, searching for tobacco, encountered Kipp’s sheriff badge.</p>
-
-<p>“Joe Kipp and the Ladd feller ’lowed they’d be here at noon today.
-The sun lacks half a hour uh throwin’ the short shadder. We ain’t
-licked yet.”</p>
-
-<p>“If ary harm had come to Pete, I’d feel it in my bones, Hank. What was
-it Joe Kipp said about that paper in his safe?”</p>
-
-<p>“He ’lowed it ’ud be useful to us.”</p>
-
-<p>“Huh! He mighta said more. Yonder’s Fox, lookin’ fer all the world
-like a turkey buzzard, drat him. I’d like tuh give that old skinflint
-a piece uh my mind. Set up straight, can’t yuh? Goodness, a person ’ud
-think you was a hunchback. If them new galluses is too tight, let ’em
-out a notch.”</p>
-
-<p>The couple approached the tree. Fox, his long leg still crooked across
-his saddle horn, lifted his hat with an air of mocking gallantry.</p>
-
-<p>“The dried up ol’ he school-marm,” muttered Ma Basset, freezing him
-with a hard stare.</p>
-
-<p>Fox’s head, bare as a billiard ball, disappeared beneath the
-wide-brimmed black hat.</p>
-
-<p>“I understood there was a bunch of cattle to be delivered here,
-Basset,” he said as if surprised to see no herd. “My two boys are
-bringing them, perhaps?”</p>
-
-<p>“Perhaps,” snapped Ma Basset. “’Tain’t noon yet.”</p>
-
-<p>“On such a beautiful Sabbath morning, we mortals should forget our
-quarrels, Mrs. Basset. I come on an errand of peace. Ours should be a
-relationship of neighborly friendship instead on enmity.”</p>
-
-<p>His bony hand indicated Basset’s sign. “It is my wish that such things
-should not exist, madam. In my pocket is your note. I would gladly
-destroy that bit of paper and seal, in that manner, our bond of mutual
-friendship. In return, I ask for something that is of little value.
-Namely, the transfer of your iron into my name. It is evident that but
-a handful of cattle in that iron exist. I am offering to lift the
-burden of debt from you in return for a brand that has no value.”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Why?</i>” snapped Ma Basset.</p>
-
-<p>“That such ill feeling as is shown by yonder sign may be wiped away.
-You will be taken care of. Moreover, I shall myself make a plea to the
-governor of the State for an absolute pardon for your son. I wish to
-prove to you that Luther Fox is not the scoundrel you would have men
-think him to be.”</p>
-
-<p>His bony thumbs hooked in the armholes of his grease-spotted
-waistcoat, he attempted a yellow-fanged smile.</p>
-
-<p>“A buzzard chatterin’ like a magpie,” was Ma Basset’s audible comment
-to her husband.</p>
-
-<p>Fox’s yellow cheeks took on a pinkish hue. His eyes glittered
-venomously.</p>
-
-<p>“We ain’t askin’ no compromise, Fox,” said Hank. “The deal goes as she
-lays.”</p>
-
-<p>“So be it.”</p>
-
-<p>Fox bit off his words sharply. Pulling forth a huge watch, he held it
-in the palm of his hand.</p>
-
-<p>“You have exactly twenty-eight minutes to produce those cattle,
-Basset.”</p>
-
-<p>“And that’s a plenty, Luther Fox! Look yonder!” cried Ma Basset.</p>
-
-<p>Out of a long draw came a moving mass of stock. The faint sound of
-bawling cattle came to them. The brownish spot widened quickly, taking
-form as the herd spread out across the prairie.</p>
-
-<p>Fox went pasty white. The crooked smile on his thin lips vanished. A
-man seeing a ghost could look no more startled.</p>
-
-<p>“Something’s wrong as &#8212;&#8212;,” he muttered as his leg swung to catch
-the ox-bow stirrup. Beads of moisture stood out on his cheeks. His
-claw-like fingers shook as they wrapped about the ivory butt of the
-low-hung .45. He gazed as if fascinated at the oncoming herd.</p>
-
-<p>With those cattle came ruination and defeat. The absence of Kipp, Tad
-and Shorty was now accounted for. Somehow, they had gotten into the
-Pocket, killed or captured Black Jack and his men and were bringing
-out the stolen herd. The swift vision of a prison cell made him wince.
-He shut his eyes against it and his chin dropped to his chest. When he
-looked up a moment later, the color had come back into his lips. He
-turned to his two followers.</p>
-
-<p>“You’ll find fresh horses at the corral in town. It’s a forty-hour
-ride to the Canadian line. You’d better lose no time.”</p>
-
-<p>The two men gazed at him for a moment, then whirled their horses and
-were gone in a cloud of dust, without a word of parting. Fox now
-turned to Hank Basset and his wife who acted like people who moved in
-a dream, stupefied. With steady hand, Fox brought forth Hank Basset’s
-note and slowly tore it to bits. The scraps of paper fluttered to the
-ground.</p>
-
-<p>“It would be better if you rode back towards your ranch, madam. I bid
-you good day.”</p>
-
-<p>Ma Basset hesitated, her eyes moving from Fox to her husband.
-Something in Fox’s bearing silenced her usually ready tongue.</p>
-
-<p>“Better drift, Ma,” mumbled Hank.</p>
-
-<p>She turned her horse and rode away. The old horse, headed on the
-homeward trail, voluntarily quickened his pace and she gave him rein.</p>
-
-<p>Hank licked his dry lips and stared at Fox who had taken the .45 from
-its holster and was spinning the cylinder, his eyes on a solitary
-horseman who had quit the herd and was riding toward the lone tree.</p>
-
-<p>“That will be Joe Kipp,” said Fox, his voice flatly emotionless. “For
-a man who has spent his life in the saddle, he sits a horse badly.”</p>
-
-<p>The white-handled gun went back in its holster. Then Fox rode to the
-cottonwood and with an abrupt movement, jerked Hank Basset’s sign from
-its place on the tree trunk.</p>
-
-<p>“You’ll have no further need of it, Basset, and the thing was an
-eyesore. The spelling was miserable. Should Kipp shoot better than he
-rides, bury me on the LF side of the tree.”</p>
-
-<p>Midway between the tree and the herd, Joe Kipp came on, his horse at a
-running walk. Fox, riding to meet him, halted for a moment to call
-over his shoulder to Hank.</p>
-
-<p>“A man may be a scoundrel, Basset, but still not be a coward.”</p>
-
-<p>Then he rode on.</p>
-
-<p>Those that watched saw the two men ride toward each other. Saw the gap
-between them lessen. Two puffs of white smoke appeared at precisely
-the same instant. Both men swayed drunkenly in the saddle. The horses,
-startled, leaped forward. The riders slipped to the ground to lie
-quietly, but ten feet apart.</p>
-
-<p>Tad was the first to reach the spot. He swung from his saddle to bend
-over Kipp. Fox, a red smear oozing from the hole between his eyes, lay
-face upward, his gun still clutched in his lifeless hand.</p>
-
-<p>“Is Kipp dead?” panted Shorty, riding up.</p>
-
-<p>Tad looked up, shaking his head. “Creased. He’ll come to directly.
-Fox’s bullet done parted his hair. The sun must’a’ somehow sp’iled the
-buzzard’s aim.”</p>
-
-<p>Hank rode up, panting as if from a hard run.</p>
-
-<p>“Toss me Kipp’s badge, Hank,” called Tad. “He’s done earned the right
-tuh wear it.”</p>
-
-<hr class='tb' />
-
-<img alt='' src='images/grub.png' class='left' />
-<p class='ni'>From Ma Basset’s kitchen came the savory odor of roast turkey, baking
-pies and coffee.</p>
-
-<p>In the front room, cotton covers had been removed from plush seated
-chairs and the place buzzed with conversation, generously punctuated
-by laughter. Holiday spirit prevailed.</p>
-
-<p>Shorty Carroway, scrubbed, shaved, resplendent in a suit of store
-clothes, was gradually becoming more red of cheek due to the confines
-of a shining celluloid collar.</p>
-
-<p>“That red tie uh yourn has slipped up under yore off ear, runt,”
-confided Tad, also in holiday garb, in a voice that carried the length
-of the room.</p>
-
-<p>Shorty rescued the truant tie and grinned wickedly.</p>
-
-<p>“Is it the style tuh wear one sock draggin’ low thataway when yuh got
-low water shoes on, Ox? Swap yuh this here Los Cruces letter uh Joe
-Kipp’s fer Pete Basset’s pardon paper. Dang me if I ever knowed so
-many big words could be herded together on one hunk uh paper. This
-judge gent in Los Cruces shore tells it scary. And them two reward
-checks fer Fox and Black Jack, man, they runs into real money. Joe
-’lows the Black Jack reward goes tuh you.”</p>
-
-<p>“Fer gosh sake, dry up,” muttered Tad. “Don’t go sp’ilin’ Joe’s
-dinner, talkin’ about the breed. Where’n &#8212;&#8212; yore manners?
-And mind yuh, act purty when Miz Basset sets yuh alongside thet
-school-marm at the table.”</p>
-
-<p>Shorty squirmed, his glance darting to an angular maiden lady across
-the room. Tad chuckled softly.</p>
-
-<p>Joe Kipp, exonerated from the Los Cruces killing and recently returned
-from the border town, was in a corner with Pete Basset who had that
-morning made his triumphant return from Deer Lodge.</p>
-
-<p>Ma Basset and the school teacher were fluttering about the room
-collecting vacant chairs and setting the table. The school teacher,
-taking advantage of a lull in the operations, headed like a homing
-pigeon for the vacant place on the setee alongside Shorty. The little
-puncher grinned in a sickly fashion and swallowed hard.</p>
-
-<p>“We’ll have a chance to finish that thrilling tale of yours now,
-Mister Carroway,” she cooed.</p>
-
-<p>Shorty, catching Hank’s eye, sent a look of desperate appeal that
-might have brought results had not Tad interfered.</p>
-
-<p>“If there’s anything Mister Carroway loves, it’s relatin’ them
-hair-brained escapes uh hisn. Git him tuh tell yuh about the time he
-stumbled over Lafe Tucker’s tame polecat in the dark, ma’am.”</p>
-
-<p>Ma Basset, sensing Shorty’s agonized frame of mind, came to the
-rescue.</p>
-
-<p>“Hattie, if yuh don’t mind, will yuh put on the red napkins. I’m
-gettin’ that hefty that my feet kills me when I’m on ’em long.”</p>
-
-<p>She dropped into a chair and fanned herself with her apron.</p>
-
-<p>Hattie reluctantly obeyed and Ma winked at Shorty. The little puncher
-grinned his thanks.</p>
-
-<p>Hank Basset, who had been hovering in the vicinity of the cupboard
-where Ma’s bottle of snake-bite cure was concealed, caught Joe Kipp’s
-eye and a meaning glance was exchanged.</p>
-
-<p>“Ma,” said Hank, sniffing audibly, “ain’t them biscuits burnin’?”</p>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; margin-top:0.7em;'>THE END</div>
-</div>
-
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