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Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..821c193 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #64757 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/64757) diff --git a/old/64757-0.txt b/old/64757-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index a65841f..0000000 --- a/old/64757-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4378 +0,0 @@ -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 - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PAID OFF *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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Coburn</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. 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. -</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 —— 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, —— 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——”</p> - -<p>“What the —— 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 —— 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 —— 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 —— 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’——”</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 —— 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. ——’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——”</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 —— 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 —— 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 —— -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>“—— 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>“—— 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——”</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——”</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——”</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>“—— 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——”</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——”</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 ——, -<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 —— 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 —— 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 ——, ‘I wish -tuh —— 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—I’m in the lead, <i xml:lang='es-MX' lang='es-MX'>sabe</i>?—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 ——. 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 —— 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. ——’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——”</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——”</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——”</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 -—— 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 —— 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 ——’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!”</p> - -<p>“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.”</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 —— 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 —— -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 —— 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’ ——’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>“——,” 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.”</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 —— 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>“——, 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 ——.</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 ——!</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 —— 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—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——”</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>“——!” 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 —— 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 30–40 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——”</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 ——,” 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, —— yuh!” called a hidden voice. “Plug ’em if they -make a move, Bill. “Stick them —— 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 ——.”</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 ——!”</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>“——,” 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 —— 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 —— 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 —— 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 —— 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 ——, 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!”</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 ——, though. ’Specially with Sheriff Kipp tuh lead their -hosses out from under ’em and leave ’em danglin’ to a cottonwood -limb.”</p> - -<p>“——!” 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.”</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 —— 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——”</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——”</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 —— 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 —— 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>“——, 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 ——! Fight, -you —— 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 —— spider every shot. I ain’t so good -as I used tuh be at——”</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 —— 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’.”</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 —— 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—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——”</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 —— 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.</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 ——, 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 —— 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 —— 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 —— of a father, -you are. And —— 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 —— 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 —— 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. —— a man that can’t do business without his -—— 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 ——,” 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 —— 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> - -<div class='figcenter portrait'> - <img src='images/illus-003.jpg' alt='closing image' /> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PAID OFF ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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