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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #67306 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/67306)
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Laughter of Slim Malone, by Max
-Brand
-
-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: The Laughter of Slim Malone
-
-Author: Max Brand
-
-Release Date: February 2, 2022 [eBook #67306]
-
-Language: English
-
-Produced by: Roger Frank and Sue Clark
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAUGHTER OF SLIM MALONE ***
-
-
- The Laughter of Slim Malone
-
- By Max Brand
-
-
-[Illustration]
-
-Time has little to do with reputation in the far West, and accordingly
-the name of Slim Malone grew old in the region of Appleton, and yet
-the owner of the name was still young.
-
-Appleton was somewhat of a misnomer, for the region had never known
-anything save imported apples or any other sort of fruit since the
-time of its birth into the history of whisky and revolvers. But a
-misguided pioneer in the old days had raised a few scrubby trees and
-had named the town forever. The dreams of the early agriculturalists
-had died long ago, but the name remained to pique the curiosity of
-travelers and furnish jokes for inhabitants.
-
-The town lay at the conjunction of three gorges in the heart of the
-Rockies, and the little plain where it nestled was crowded with
-orchards which bore everything but apples. The six original trees
-which had given the town its name now stood in the back yard of Sandy
-Orton’s saloon—old trees with knotted and mossy limbs which suggested
-a venerable age due to the hard climate rather than to the passage of
-years. They were pointed out to casual travelers with great pride, and
-they were the established toast of Sandy’s place. But Sandy’s was
-frequented by a loud-voiced and spendthrift crowd not usual to
-agricultural towns.
-
-In the old days, when Appleton was a name rather than a fact, the
-hilarity had been as absent as the men; but after gold was discovered
-in the three gorges which led from the settlement into the heart of
-the mountains, the little town became a rendezvous of a thousand
-adventurers. The stages to and from the railroad thirty miles away,
-were crowded with men eager to face the hardships of the climate and
-the great adventure of the gold-fields.
-
-It was then that Slim Malone appeared. It was said that he had first
-come upon the scene as the owner of the Red River strike, which was
-finally owned by Sandy Gleason. It was further rumored that Sandy had
-beaten Slim Malone out of the claim by a very shady deal at cards; but
-Sandy refused to discuss the matter, and Slim Malone was rarely within
-vocal range, so the matter had never been sifted. Sandy was rarely
-more vocal than a grunt, and when Slim Malone appeared, people had
-generally other things to think about than questions concerning his
-past.
-
-A certain percentage of lawlessness is taken for granted in a mining
-town. People are too busy with their own concerns to pay attention to
-their neighbors, but when three stages in succession, passing from
-Appleton to Concord, the nearest railroad station, were robbed by a
-rider on a white horse, the community awoke and waxed wrath. The loss
-was too much in common to be passed over.
-
-The first effort was an impromptu organization of half a dozen angered
-miners who rode into the Weston Hills. They found fresh hoof-prints
-after an hour of riding, and went on greatly encouraged, with the
-pistols loosened in their holsters. After some hours of hard travel
-they came upon a white horse in the midst of a hollow, and then spread
-into a circle and approached cautiously. But not cautiously enough.
-While they were still far from the white horse the bandit opened fire
-upon them from the shelter of a circle of rocks. They rode into town
-the next day with three of their number badly hurt and the other three
-marked for life. That started the war.
-
-As the months passed posse after posse left Appleton and started to
-scour the Weston Hills for the marauder. The luckiest of the
-expeditions came back telling tales of a sudden fusillade from an
-unexpected covert, and then a swift white horse scouring into the
-distance. The majority came back with no tales at all save of silent
-mountains and the grim cactus of the desert.
-
-In the mean time the stages from Appleton to Concord were held up with
-a monotonous regularity by a rider of a fleet white horse, and the
-mining town grew more and more irate. Men cursed the name of Slim
-Malone. An adventurous singer in one of Appleton’s dance halls
-invented a song featuring the marauder, and it was taken up by the
-matrons of the town as a sort of scare-crow ballad to hush their
-children.
-
-Then the new mayor came to Appleton. He owned three claims on
-Askwarthy Gulch, and he ran on the double platform of no-license for
-the Appleton saloons and the end of Slim Malone. The women used their
-influence because of the first clause in his platform, and the men
-voted for him because of the second. His name was Orval Kendricks, but
-that didn’t count. What mattered was his red hair and the statements
-of his platform. Slim Malone celebrated the new reign of holding up
-two stages within the first five days.
-
-But the new mayor lived up to the color of his hair, and proved worthy
-of his platform. He held a meeting of every able-bodied citizen in
-town three days after his inauguration, and in his speech the men
-noted with relief that he forgot to mention the saloons, and that he
-concentrated his attention on Slim Malone. He stated that the good
-name and the prosperity of Appleton depended upon the capture of this
-marauder at once. Divorced from the mayor’s rather sounding rhetoric,
-the populace of Appleton realized the truth of his remarks and
-applauded him to the echo. His silences were as much appreciated as
-his words.
-
-After a carefully prepared peroration he built up to his climax by the
-proposal that the community import “Lefty” Cornwall, at a salary of
-five hundred dollars a month and five thousand bonus, to act as deputy
-sheriff until the apprehension of Slim Malone. Then the crowd
-applauded to the echo. In their midst were men who had lost more than
-five thousand at a blow owing to the strenuous activity of this Slim
-Malone. They were equal to any measures for his suppression even if it
-meant the importation of Lefty Cornwall.
-
-The fame of Lefty had begun in Texas when he mortally wounded one
-greaser and crippled two others in a saloon fight. Since then it had
-increased and spread until he was a household word even farther north
-than Appleton. He came from that sun-burned southland where a man’s
-prowess was gaged by his speed and dexterity with his “irons,” and
-even on that northern plateau of Appleton men knew that to cross Lefty
-Cornwall was death or murderous mutilation.
-
-At first there were some dissenters. Men stated freely that Lefty
-would never dream of coming as far north as Appleton for a paltry five
-thousand dollars. There were even a few dissenters who claimed that
-even should he come he would never be able to cope with Slim Malone,
-but these were laughed and hooted down by a radical minority who came
-from the southland and knew the fame of Lefty Cornwall in detail. The
-sheriff accounted for the others by stating that he had already
-communicated with Lefty, and had received his assent by letter. This
-announcement dissolved the meeting in cheers.
-
-Appleton decreed the day of the arrival of the new sheriff a festival
-occasion. The farmers from the adjoining table-land drove into town,
-the miners from the three valleys rode down. And when the stage
-arrived from Concord the incipient sheriff dismounted in the midst of
-a huge crowd, and cheers which shook the sign-board of Sandy Orton’s
-saloon.
-
-Now the mayor of Appleton had declared deathless war against the
-saloons in his platform, but since his election he had been strangely
-silent upon the liquor question. He was as canny as his red hair
-suggested, and he had a truly Scotch insight into the crucial moments
-of life. He perceived the arrival of Lefty Cornwall to be such a
-moment, and he perceived at the same moment the correct way of meeting
-that crisis.
-
-It was with surprise no less than pleasure that the throng heard the
-lusty voice of their chief official inviting them to Sandy Orton’s
-saloon, and where they were in doubt, his beckoning arm put them
-right. They filled the saloon from bar to door, and those who could
-not enter thronged at the entrances with gaping mouths.
-
-The sheriff was equal to the occasion. He mounted the bar much as a
-plainsman mounts a horse, and standing in full view of his fellow
-citizens, he invited Lefty Cornwall to join him in his prominent
-position. Nowise loath, Lefty swung onto the bar in the most approved
-fashion, and stood, locked arm in arm with the dignified official of
-Appleton. In the mean time the bartenders, thrilled equally with
-surprise and pleasure, passed out the drinks to the crowded room. It
-was apparently a moment big in portent to Appleton, and not a heart
-there but pulsed big with pride in their mayor.
-
-“Fellow citizens,” began the mayor, raising a large freckled hand for
-silence.
-
-A hush fell upon the assemblage.
-
-“Boys,” continued the mayor, after a proper silence reigned, “I
-haven’t got much to say.”
-
-“Here’s to you!” yelled a voice. “I hate a guy that’s noisy.”
-
-The mayor frowned and waved a commanding hand for silence.
-
-“I spotted you, Pete Bartlett,” he called. “If you don’t like silence
-you must hate yourself.”
-
-The crowd roared with approving laughter.
-
-“Boys,” began Orval Kendricks again, when the laughter had subsided,
-“this here is a solemn occasion. I feel called upon to summon the
-manhood of this here town to listen to my words, and I reckon that
-most of the manhood of the town is within hearin’.”
-
-A chorus of assent followed.
-
-“I don’t need any Daniel Webster to tell you men that this here town
-is hard hit,” continued Mayor Kendricks. “It don’t need no Henry Clay
-to tell you that these diggin’s are about to bust up unless we have
-the right sort of a strong arm man in town. We’ve been sufferin’
-patiently from the aggressions of a red-handed desperado who I don’t
-need to mention, because his name just naturally burns my tongue.”
-
-“Slim Malone!” cried a dozen voices. “We’re followin’ you, chief!”
-
-The mayor thrust his hand into his breast and extended the other arm
-in imitation of a popular wood-cut of Patrick Henry. The crowd
-acknowledged the eloquence of the attitude with a common gaping.
-
-“There may be some of you guys,” cried the mayor, rising to the
-emotion of the moment, “there may be some of you guys who don’t know
-the man I mean, but I reckon that a tolerable pile of Appleton’s best
-citizens spend a large part of their time cursing Slim Malone.”
-
-“We ain’t through damning him yet,” yelled a voice, and the crowd
-voiced their assent, half in growls and half in laughter.
-
-“He has tricked our posse as an honest man would be ashamed to do,”
-went on the mayor, warming to his oration; “he has shot our citizens,
-and he has swiped our gold! I’m askin’ you as man to man, can a
-self-respectin’ community stand for this? It can’t. What’s the answer
-that Appleton makes to this desperado?”
-
-He paused and frowned the audience into a state of suspense.
-
-“There is only one answer to this gun-fighter, and that answer stands
-at my right hand,” bellowed the mayor, when he judged that the silence
-had sunk into his hearers sufficiently. “The name of the answer is
-Lefty Cornwall!”
-
-The following burst of applause brought a momentary blush into even
-Lefty’s cheek. At the reiterated demands for a speech he hitched at
-his revolver in its skeleton holster, removed his sombrero, and mopped
-his forehead with a ponderous hand. When it became evident that the
-hero was about to break into utterance the crowd became silent.
-
-“Fellows,” began the gun-fighter, “makin’ speeches ain’t much in my
-line.”
-
-“Makin’ dead men is more your game,” broke in the wit of the
-assemblage.
-
-A universal hiss attested that the crowd was anxious to hear the Texan
-gun-man out.
-
-“But if you are goin’ to do me the honor of makin’ me sheriff of this
-here county and this here city of Appleton,” he continued, letting his
-eye rove down Appleton’s one street, “I’m here to state that law and
-order is goin’ to be maintained here at all costs. Right here I got to
-state that the only costs I’m referrin’ to is the price of the powder
-and lead for this here cannon of mine.”
-
-The crowd broke in upon the speech with noisy appreciation, and many
-cries of “That’s the stuff, old boy!”
-
-“I been hearin’ a tolerable pile about one Slim Malone,” went on the
-new sheriff.
-
-“So have we,” broke in the irrepressible wit of the assemblage, only
-to be choked into silence by more serious-minded neighbors.
-
-“Sure,” agreed the sheriff. “I reckon you’ve heard a lot too much
-about him. But I’m here to state that all this talk about Slim Malone
-has got to stop, and has got to stop sudden. I’m here to stop it.”
-
-He hitched his holster a little forward again as he spoke and a deep
-silence fell upon the crowd.
-
-“Fellow citizens,” he continued, spitting liberally over the side of
-the bar, “whatever gun-play is carried on around here in the future is
-to be done strictly by me, and all you men can consider yourselves
-under warning to leave your shootin’-irons at home, unless you want to
-use them to dig premature graves.”
-
-This advice was received with an ironical chuckle of appreciation from
-the crowd.
-
-“As for Slim Malone,” he went on, “I’m goin’ out into the Weston Hills
-to get him single handed. I don’t want no posse. I’ll get him single
-handed or bust, you can lay to that; and if I come back to this town
-without Slim Malone, alive or dead, you can say that Malone has the
-Indian sign on me.”
-
-Having finished all that he had to say, Lefty felt about in his mind
-to find a graceful manner of closing his exordium, when the mayor came
-to his assistance. He recognized that nervous clearing of the throat
-and wandering of the eyes out of his own first political experiences.
-Now he raised his glass of colored alcohol and water, which in
-Appleton rejoiced in the name of Bourbon.
-
-“Boys,” he shouted, “there ain’t no better way of showin’ our
-appreciation of our new sheriff than by turnin’ bottoms up. Let’s go!”
-
-Every hand in the barroom flashed into the air, and after a loud whoop
-there was a brief gurgling sound which warmed the heart of Sandy
-Orton.
-
-It should have been the signal for a day’s carousal, and the good
-citizens of Appleton were no wise averse. They desired to hear the
-voice of their new sheriff in friendly converse. They desired to see
-him in that most amiable of all poses, his foot on the rail and his
-hand on the bar. They wanted to look him over and size him up just as
-a boy wishes to fondle his first gun. But the sheriff objected. He was
-sorry to spoil the fun. He said that they could go ahead and have
-their little time, but that they must leave him out. He had business
-to perform that didn’t admit of drinking.
-
-There might have been adverse criticism of this Spartan strenuousness,
-but at this point a diversion occurred in the shape of four wild
-riders who broke into Appleton and brought the word that Slim Malone
-had been out again. This time he had held up a mule train on its way
-to carry provisions up Bender Cañon to Earl Parrish’s claim. With his
-usual fine restraint Slim had taken no lives, but he had winged two of
-the drivers badly and had helped himself from the provisions without
-unnecessary waste. He had even lingered to give first aid to the two
-drivers whose courage had overcome their sense of proportion.
-
-If anything had been needed to spur on the new official of Appleton it
-came in the form of the message which Slim Malone had left with the
-wounded man before he rode away.
-
-“Tell the new sheriff,” he called, as he sat easily in the saddle,
-“that I’ve heard of him, and that I’ll organize a little party for him
-as soon as possible so that we can get better acquainted. Tell him
-that the one thing he lacks to make him a good fighting man is a sense
-of humor.”
-
-Lefty Cornwall heard this message in silence the while he spat with
-vicious precision into a distant spittoon. Afterward, and still in
-silence, he retired and worked for an hour cleaning his already
-shining revolver and patting and oiling the holster. He performed
-these grave functions in the house of the mayor, and that dignitary
-announced later that he had wound up by practising the draw and point,
-walking and sitting down, and at every angle. The mayor was impressed
-past speech.
-
-When Lefty issued at last he found a score of hard riders standing by
-their horses in the street.
-
-“An’ what might all this here gang be for?” inquired Lefty mildly.
-
-“We’re the posse, waitin’ to be sworn in,” announced one of the men.
-
-“Swearin’ in takes a terrible lot of time,” said Lefty, “an’ besides,
-I don’t know how it’s done. I don’t want no posse, as I said before. I
-wouldn’t know how to handle it. Anyway, twenty men on horseback make
-enough noise to scare away a whole gang of bandits. You might as well
-start lookin’ for trouble with a brass band, because you’d sure find
-the trouble.”
-
-He hitched at his belt in his customary manner when at a loss for
-words, and his right hand dropped gracefully upon the handle of his
-gun and drooped thereon somewhat sinisterly.
-
-“This here Malone,” went on the sheriff, “may be a tolerable bad man
-in his way, but I ain’t no shorn lamb myself. I’m goin’ out to get
-him, an’ I’m goin’ to get him by myself. I reckon that’s final.”
-
-They accepted his announcement with cheers, and set about offering all
-the information in their power. It was generally believed that the
-bandit lived somewhere at the far end of Eagle Head Cañon, about
-fifteen miles from the town. His dwelling had never been spotted, but
-he was most frequently seen riding to and from this place. Thrice
-posses had raked the cañon as with a fine-toothed comb, but they had
-never come upon a trace of his habitation; but the cañon was thick
-with caves, and heaped with giant boulders which offered innumerable
-places of concealment, and the legend was strong that Slim Malone
-lived in that place.
-
-The next thing was to find a proper mount. This proved a more
-difficult task. The sheriff knew horses from nose to hoof, and he was
-hard to please. At last he selected a tall roan with a wicked eye and
-flat shoulders which promised speed. These preparations made, he swung
-to the saddle, waved his hand to the crowd, and galloped out of town.
-
-There was not much bluff about Lefty Cornwall, as the curious-minded
-had frequently discovered in the past, but as he swung into the narrow
-throat of Eagle Head Cañon, he began to realize that he might have
-gone too far. While he was in the town it had been easy enough to make
-ringing speeches. Now that the evening began to come down by lazy,
-cool degrees a certain diffidence grew in him.
-
-He had fought many men during his brief life, but he had never come
-across a reputation as strange or as fascinating as this of Slim
-Malone. If the challenge which the bandit had sent him was irritating,
-it also roused in his mind a certain degree of respect, and as he rode
-up the cañon, winding slowly among the boulders, a hundred doubts
-infested his mind.
-
-If he had been back upon the level reaches of the Texan desert, which
-he knew, these uncertainties would probably have never entered his
-head, but here every half mile of his journey was passed under the eye
-of a thousand coverts from which a man could have picked him off with
-the safety of a hunter firing from a blind at partridges. Moreover a
-curious loneliness akin to homesickness came in him, located, as far
-as he could discover, chiefly in the pit of the stomach.
-
-The mountains were blue now, and purple along their upper reaches, and
-as the sun left off the moon took up her reign over the chill blue
-spaces. It was very solemn, almost funereal to the thought of Lefty
-Cornwall. And the silence was punctuated with the melancholy howling
-of a far-off coyote.
-
-It was complete night before he reached the upper end of Eagle Head
-Cañon, and he was weary from the stumbling gait of his horse over the
-rocks. Moreover, the mountain night air was cold—very cold to Lefty.
-He wanted desperately to turn back, but he had not the heart to face
-the inquiries which would meet him at the town, and the covert smiles
-which would welcome the hero returning empty handed, the man who
-needed no posse.
-
-Lefty was a very brave man, but like almost all of the physically
-courageous, he dreaded derision more than actual pain. Yet, in spite
-of this he finally decided that it was better to go back to the town
-and face the smiles than to remain through the cold night in these
-dread silences. He wished heartily that he had taken one other man
-with him if it were only for the companionship. As it was he felt that
-it was no use to hunt further, and he started back down the cañon. He
-had not gone far when his horse stumbled and commenced to limp.
-
-Lefty got off with a curse and felt of the fore hoofs. The difficulty
-proved to be a sharp, three-cornered rock which had been picked up
-under the shoe of the left fore foot. He was bending over to pry this
-loose between his fingers when he caught the glint of a light.
-
-In his excitement he sprang upright and stared. At once the light
-disappeared. Lefty began to feel ghostly. His senses had never played
-him such tricks before.
-
-He leaned over and commenced work on the stone again, but as he did so
-his eye caught the same glint of light. There was no possible mistake
-about it this time. He remained bent over and stared at it until he
-was certain that he saw a yellow spot of light, a long, thin ray which
-pointed out to him like a finger through the shadows.
-
-This time he took the bearings of the light carefully, and when he
-stood up he was able to locate it again. Lefty’s heart beat high.
-
-He threw the reins over his horse’s head and commenced to stalk the
-light carefully. Sometimes as he slipped and stumbled over the rocks
-he lost sight of it altogether, only to have it reappear when he had
-almost given up hopes of finding it again. And so he came upon the
-cave.
-
-The light shone through a little chink between two tall boulders, and
-as Lefty pressed his eye to the aperture, holding his breath as he did
-so, he saw a long dugout, perhaps a dozen paces from end to end, and
-some five paces wide. Behind a partition at one end he heard the
-stamping of a horse, and as Lefty gazed, a magnificent white head rose
-behind the partition and looked fairly at him. His heart stopped as
-that great-eyed gaze turned on him, the ears pricking and the wisp of
-hay motionless in the mouth. But after a moment the horse dropped his
-head again and went on crunching his fodder, stamping now and then and
-snorting as he ate.
-
-At first he saw no other occupant of the place, but by moving his eye
-to one side of the aperture he managed to get a glimpse of the bandit
-himself. There was no question about his identity. From the
-descriptions which he had heard while in Appleton he knew him at once,
-the expressionless gray eyes, and the thin, refined face with an
-almost Greek modeling about its lower part.
-
-He sat tilted back in a heavy chair smoking a pipe and reading, and
-Lefty saw that he sat facing a blanket at the far end of the room.
-Evidently this was the entrance. So far as Lefty could see the bandit
-was unarmed, his two long guns lying on the table half a dozen paces
-away.
-
-Very softly he crept along the side of the boulder, and finally came
-to an aperture, as he had expected. It was just wide enough for a man
-to press through, and from the chisel marks at his sides it had
-evidently been artificially widened from time to time. At the end of
-the narrow passage hung the blanket.
-
-If Lefty had proceeded cautiously up to this point, his caution now
-became almost animal-like. Behind that blanket he had no idea what was
-happening. Perhaps the bandit had heard a noise long before, and was
-now crouched against the wall in another part of the place, ready to
-open fire at the first stir of the blanket. Perhaps he had stolen out
-of the cave by another entrance and was now hunting the hunter. The
-thought sent a chill down Lefty’s back and he turned his head quickly.
-Then he resumed his slow progress. At the very edge of the blanket he
-paused for a long and deathly minute, but Lefty was not a woman, to
-fail at the last moment.
-
-He swung the blanket aside and crouched in the entrance with his gun
-leveled. The little round sight framed the face of Slim Malone, who
-still sat reading quietly and puffing at a black-bowled pipe.
-
-“Hands up!” said Lefty softly.
-
-Even then, with his bead on his man, he did not feel entirely sure of
-himself. It seemed that this could not be true. Opportunity had
-favored him too much. There must still be some turn of the game.
-
-The meaningless gray eyes raised calmly from the book. It seemed to
-Lefty that a yellow glint came into them for a moment like the light
-that comes into an animal’s eyes when it is angered, but the next
-moment it was gone, and he could not be sure that it had come there at
-all. The rest of the face was perfectly calm. Malone lowered the book
-slowly and then raised his hands above his head.
-
-“Ah, sheriff,” he said quietly, “I see that you have honored my
-invitation.”
-
-“Right-o,” said Lefty, “I’m here all right.”
-
-He felt strangely relieved after hearing his quarry speak. He stepped
-through the entrance and straightened up, still with the revolver
-leveled. It was beyond his fondest hopes that he should be able to
-bring the desperado alive to Appleton, and the thought of his complete
-success warmed his heart. Also the immediate prospect of that
-five-thousand-dollar bonus.
-
-“In order to remove any strain you may be under,” went on Slim Malone,
-“I’ll assure you that I am quite unarmed. My guns are both lying on
-the table there. In order that you may make sure, I shall stand up,
-with my hands over my head, and turn around slowly. You can examine me
-to your own satisfaction.”
-
-He did as he had said, and Lefty’s practised eyes saw that there was
-not the suspicion of a lump under the clothes.
-
-“Now,” said Slim Malone, as he faced his captor again, and his smile
-was strangely winning, “I hope that I may lower my arms and we can
-commence our little party.”
-
-“Your end of this here party is all over, my beauty,” said Lefty
-grimly, “except that the boys at Appleton may give you a little
-impromptu reception when we hit town. They seem to be rather strong on
-celebrations.”
-
-“So I understand,” smiled Slim Malone. “I have no doubt they will be
-glad to see me.”
-
-“Ain’t no doubt in the world,” grinned Lefty, warming to the perfect
-calm of this man. “Between you an’ me, pal, I’m sorry to have to turn
-this little trick; but—”
-
-Malone waved a careless and reassuring hand.
-
-“Business is business, my dear fellow,” he said.
-
-“That bein’ the case,” said Lefty, “I’ll have to ask you to turn
-around and put your hands behind your back while I put these here
-bracelets on. I don’t want to discourage you any, but while I’m doin’
-it this here gun will be in my hand and pointin’ at your back.”
-
-“Naturally,” nodded Malone; “quite right, of course; but before we
-start on our little jaunt back to the camp won’t you have a drink with
-me? I have some really rare old stuff here; quite different from the
-firewater they put labels on in Appleton.”
-
-Lefty grinned appreciatively.
-
-“It’s a good move, pal,” he said, shaking his head with admiration,
-“an’ I know that you’re hard put to it or you wouldn’t try such an old
-dodge on me. It’s a good move, but down in Texas the booze stunt is so
-old that they’ve almost forgotten it—not quite!”
-
-“Ah,” said Malone, with a little sigh of regret, “then I suppose we
-shall have to ride out in the night without a nip. Gets mighty chilly
-here before morning, you know.”
-
-This fact had gradually dawned on Lefty during his ride up the valley,
-and as he looked forward to the journey back he shivered with
-unpleasant anticipation. In Texas a summer night was one thing; in
-these mountains it was quite another.
-
-“I suppose the booze is the real thing,” he inquired casually.
-
-“There are little bubbles under the glass,” said Slim Malone with
-subtle emotion.
-
-Lefty Cornwall sighed deeply. The taste of the Appleton bar whisky
-still burned his mouth. After all this fellow was a man. He might be a
-criminal, but Lefty’s own past was not free from shady episodes.
-Furthermore he was about to make five thousand dollars on presenting
-him to the good people of Appleton.
-
-“If you sure want a drink before we start, go ahead,” said Lefty.
-
-“The bottle and a glass is over there in that little dugout on the
-wall,” pointed Malone.
-
-In the little open hutch on the wall the sheriff perceived a tall
-bottle which shimmered pleasantly in the torch-light.
-
-“Go ahead,” said the sheriff, “I reckon you know I’m watchin’ all the
-time.”
-
-“Surely,” said Malone pleasantly. “I know you’re on your job all the
-time.”
-
-He walked over to the hutch and picked up the bottle and the glass. He
-paused with the bottle tucked away under his arm.
-
-“Queer thing,” pondered Malone, “the same pack that held this bottle
-of whisky held this also.”
-
-Lefty tightened his grip on the gun as Malone reached deeper into the
-hutch, but he straightened again, and appeared carrying a large
-concert banjo.
-
-“That fellow had taste,” he continued, crossing the room and laying
-down the banjo carelessly on the chair; “just run your eyes over that
-banjo.”
-
-“Some banjo, all right,” said the sheriff, “but hurry up with your
-drink, Malone. We’ve got to be on our way.”
-
-Malone uncorked the bottle and held it under his nose while he inhaled
-a whiff.
-
-“The old aroma, all right,” he pronounced with the air of a
-connoisseur; “must be a vintage as far back as the eighties. You won’t
-join me?”
-
-Now the heart of the sheriff was a human heart, but his will was
-adamant.
-
-“Not me, Malone,” he answered, “I’ve been in the game too long. Can’t
-drink on this sort of a job.”
-
-“Guess you’re right,” murmured Malone, letting the amber stream
-trickle slowly into the glass; “but it’s too bad.”
-
-He raised the glass to his lips and swallowed half of the contents
-slowly.
-
-“The stuff is so oily,” he mused, “that you don’t need a chaser. Just
-sort of oils its own way down, you know.”
-
-The sheriff moistened his lips.
-
-“It certainly is a shame that you can’t taste it,” continued Malone,
-as he drained the glass.
-
-The sheriff hitched his belt with his customary gesture.
-
-“It looks like the real thing,” he said judicially.
-
-“It is,” pronounced Malone with decision, “and after the sort of
-poison they serve you around here—”
-
-The sheriff shuddered with sympathy.
-
-“I reckon,” he said hesitatingly, “that you might pour me just a
-drop.”
-
-It seemed to him that as he spoke the yellow glint came into the eyes
-of Malone again, but a moment later it was gone, and he decided that
-the change had been merely a shadow from the wavering torch-light. He
-took the glass which Malone extended to him under the cover of the
-pointed gun and raised it slowly to his lips.
-
-“Just stand a bit further back while I drink, pal,” he said.
-
-Malone obeyed, and the sheriff tilted the glass. It was, as Malone had
-said, “the real old aroma,” and the sheriff drew a deep breath.
-
-Now there is a saying about liquor that the drink which does the harm
-is “just one more,” and certain it is that one whisky calls for
-another as surely as a question calls for an answer.
-
-“I reckon it ain’t quite as old as you say,” said the sheriff, feeling
-his way from word to word cautiously. “I reckon it ain’t more than
-fifteen years old at the outside.”
-
-Malone paused, with the bottle suspended over the glass to consider.
-
-“I thought that myself when I first drank,” he nodded; “but that was
-before I got used to it. All Bourbon is a little sharp, you know.”
-
-The sheriff was inclined to agree. He also felt sure that one more
-drink would quite banish from his memory the taste of that one drink
-in Appleton. Moreover, the danger, if there was any, was slight, for
-Malone was taking drink for drink with him, and larger drinks at that.
-It was a sort of subtle challenge to the manhood of the sheriff, and
-he was as proud of his capacity for whisky as of his speed with a gun.
-
-It was perhaps half an hour later that the sheriff indicated the banjo
-with a careless wave of the pistol.
-
-“Play any?” he inquired, “or do you keep it around as sort of an
-ornament?”
-
-“Both,” smiled Malone. “It makes the place more homelike, you know,
-and then I sing once in a while, but not often. Folks around here
-aren’t particularly partial to my voice.”
-
-“I’m a pretty good judge,” stated the sheriff; “blaze away, and I’ll
-see you ain’t interrupted. Been a long time since I had the pleasure
-of hearing any decent singin’.”
-
-He was, as he said, a fairly good judge, and he was delighted with the
-rich barytone which rang through the cave. After a time, as the whisky
-and the music melted into his mood, he began to call for old
-favorites, darky ballads, and last of all, for the sentimental ditties
-which have always charmed the heart of the rough men of the West:
-“Annie Laurie,” “Old Black Joe,” “Ben Bolt,” “Silver Threads Among the
-Gold.”
-
-As he sang the bandit commenced, naturally, to walk back and forth
-through the cave, and the sheriff sat back in the chair and with
-half-closed eyes waved the revolver back and forth in time. He failed
-to note that as Malone walked up and down each time he made a longer
-trip, until at last he was pacing and turning close to the table on
-which lay the revolvers side by side. He did not note it, or if he did
-his mind was too thrilled with the tender airs and the tenderer liquor
-to register the fact clearly. It faded into the pleasant blur of his
-sensations.
-
- Oh, don’t you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt, Sweet Alice
- with—
-
-The music stopped. Malone had stooped over the table with the speed of
-a bird picking up a grain of wheat, and with the same movement he
-whirled and fired. The gun spun from the hand of the sheriff and he
-stood staring into eyes which now beyond all doubt flared with a
-yellow animal fire.
-
-“Now put your hands behind your back after you’ve thrown those
-bracelets to me,” said Malone. “I naturally hate to break up this
-party, but I think you’ve had about enough whisky to keep you warm on
-the ride back, Lefty, my boy.”
-
-There was an insane desire on the sheriff’s part to leap upon Malone
-bare-handed, but he had seen too many fighting men in action before.
-He knew the meaning of those eyes and the steadiness of the revolver.
-
-“It’s your game, Slim,” he said, with as little bitterness as
-possible; “but will you tell me why in the name of God you aren’t on
-the stage? It isn’t what you do, pal, it’s the way you do it!”
-
-Appleton woke early the next morning. Some one shouted and then fired
-a pistol. The populace gathered at windows and doors rubbing sleepy
-eyes which a moment later shone wide awake, and yawns turned into
-yells of laughter, for down the middle of Appleton’s one street came
-the sheriff. He was sitting the roan horse, with his feet tied below
-the girth, and his hands tied behind his back. And even the weary roan
-seemed to feel in his drooping head the defeat of his rider.
-
-Upon the back of the sheriff was a large piece of cardboard, upon
-which was printed in large letters the following:
-
- I’m sending this back with my signature in token of a
- pleasant evening in my home in Eagle Head Cañon. I’m sorry
- to announce that I’m moved. Slim Malone.
-
-
-[Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the June 14, 1919 issue
-of All-Story Weekly magazine]
-
-*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAUGHTER OF SLIM MALONE ***
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-<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Laughter of Slim Malone, by Max Brand</p>
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-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Laughter of Slim Malone</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Max Brand</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: February 2, 2022 [eBook #67306]</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p>
- <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Roger Frank and Sue Clark</p>
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAUGHTER OF SLIM MALONE ***</div>
-<div class='ce'>
-<h1 style='margin-bottom:0em;'>The Laughter of Slim Malone </h1>
-<div style='font-size:1.1em;margin-bottom:2em;'>By Max Brand </div>
-</div>
-<div id='001' class='mt01 mb01 w001'>
- <img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' />
-</div>
-<p>Time has little to do with reputation in the far West, and accordingly
-the name of Slim Malone grew old in the region of Appleton, and yet
-the owner of the name was still young.</p>
-
-<p>Appleton was somewhat of a misnomer, for the region had never known
-anything save imported apples or any other sort of fruit since the
-time of its birth into the history of whisky and revolvers. But a
-misguided pioneer in the old days had raised a few scrubby trees and
-had named the town forever. The dreams of the early agriculturalists
-had died long ago, but the name remained to pique the curiosity of
-travelers and furnish jokes for inhabitants.</p>
-
-<p>The town lay at the conjunction of three gorges in the heart of the
-Rockies, and the little plain where it nestled was crowded with
-orchards which bore everything but apples. The six original trees
-which had given the town its name now stood in the back yard of Sandy
-Orton’s saloon—old trees with knotted and mossy limbs which suggested
-a venerable age due to the hard climate rather than to the passage of
-years. They were pointed out to casual travelers with great pride, and
-they were the established toast of Sandy’s place. But Sandy’s was
-frequented by a loud-voiced and spendthrift crowd not usual to
-agricultural towns.</p>
-
-<p>In the old days, when Appleton was a name rather than a fact, the
-hilarity had been as absent as the men; but after gold was discovered
-in the three gorges which led from the settlement into the heart of
-the mountains, the little town became a rendezvous of a thousand
-adventurers. The stages to and from the railroad thirty miles away,
-were crowded with men eager to face the hardships of the climate and
-the great adventure of the gold-fields.</p>
-
-<p>It was then that Slim Malone appeared. It was said that he had first
-come upon the scene as the owner of the Red River strike, which was
-finally owned by Sandy Gleason. It was further rumored that Sandy had
-beaten Slim Malone out of the claim by a very shady deal at cards; but
-Sandy refused to discuss the matter, and Slim Malone was rarely within
-vocal range, so the matter had never been sifted. Sandy was rarely
-more vocal than a grunt, and when Slim Malone appeared, people had
-generally other things to think about than questions concerning his
-past.</p>
-
-<p>A certain percentage of lawlessness is taken for granted in a mining
-town. People are too busy with their own concerns to pay attention to
-their neighbors, but when three stages in succession, passing from
-Appleton to Concord, the nearest railroad station, were robbed by a
-rider on a white horse, the community awoke and waxed wrath. The loss
-was too much in common to be passed over.</p>
-
-<p>The first effort was an impromptu organization of half a dozen angered
-miners who rode into the Weston Hills. They found fresh hoof-prints
-after an hour of riding, and went on greatly encouraged, with the
-pistols loosened in their holsters. After some hours of hard travel
-they came upon a white horse in the midst of a hollow, and then spread
-into a circle and approached cautiously. But not cautiously enough.
-While they were still far from the white horse the bandit opened fire
-upon them from the shelter of a circle of rocks. They rode into town
-the next day with three of their number badly hurt and the other three
-marked for life. That started the war.</p>
-
-<p>As the months passed posse after posse left Appleton and started to
-scour the Weston Hills for the marauder. The luckiest of the
-expeditions came back telling tales of a sudden fusillade from an
-unexpected covert, and then a swift white horse scouring into the
-distance. The majority came back with no tales at all save of silent
-mountains and the grim cactus of the desert.</p>
-
-<p>In the mean time the stages from Appleton to Concord were held up with
-a monotonous regularity by a rider of a fleet white horse, and the
-mining town grew more and more irate. Men cursed the name of Slim
-Malone. An adventurous singer in one of Appleton’s dance halls
-invented a song featuring the marauder, and it was taken up by the
-matrons of the town as a sort of scare-crow ballad to hush their
-children.</p>
-
-<p>Then the new mayor came to Appleton. He owned three claims on
-Askwarthy Gulch, and he ran on the double platform of no-license for
-the Appleton saloons and the end of Slim Malone. The women used their
-influence because of the first clause in his platform, and the men
-voted for him because of the second. His name was Orval Kendricks, but
-that didn’t count. What mattered was his red hair and the statements
-of his platform. Slim Malone celebrated the new reign of holding up
-two stages within the first five days.</p>
-
-<p>But the new mayor lived up to the color of his hair, and proved worthy
-of his platform. He held a meeting of every able-bodied citizen in
-town three days after his inauguration, and in his speech the men
-noted with relief that he forgot to mention the saloons, and that he
-concentrated his attention on Slim Malone. He stated that the good
-name and the prosperity of Appleton depended upon the capture of this
-marauder at once. Divorced from the mayor’s rather sounding rhetoric,
-the populace of Appleton realized the truth of his remarks and
-applauded him to the echo. His silences were as much appreciated as
-his words.</p>
-
-<p>After a carefully prepared peroration he built up to his climax by the
-proposal that the community import “Lefty” Cornwall, at a salary of
-five hundred dollars a month and five thousand bonus, to act as deputy
-sheriff until the apprehension of Slim Malone. Then the crowd
-applauded to the echo. In their midst were men who had lost more than
-five thousand at a blow owing to the strenuous activity of this Slim
-Malone. They were equal to any measures for his suppression even if it
-meant the importation of Lefty Cornwall.</p>
-
-<p>The fame of Lefty had begun in Texas when he mortally wounded one
-greaser and crippled two others in a saloon fight. Since then it had
-increased and spread until he was a household word even farther north
-than Appleton. He came from that sun-burned southland where a man’s
-prowess was gaged by his speed and dexterity with his “irons,” and
-even on that northern plateau of Appleton men knew that to cross Lefty
-Cornwall was death or murderous mutilation.</p>
-
-<p>At first there were some dissenters. Men stated freely that Lefty
-would never dream of coming as far north as Appleton for a paltry five
-thousand dollars. There were even a few dissenters who claimed that
-even should he come he would never be able to cope with Slim Malone,
-but these were laughed and hooted down by a radical minority who came
-from the southland and knew the fame of Lefty Cornwall in detail. The
-sheriff accounted for the others by stating that he had already
-communicated with Lefty, and had received his assent by letter. This
-announcement dissolved the meeting in cheers.</p>
-
-<p>Appleton decreed the day of the arrival of the new sheriff a festival
-occasion. The farmers from the adjoining table-land drove into town,
-the miners from the three valleys rode down. And when the stage
-arrived from Concord the incipient sheriff dismounted in the midst of
-a huge crowd, and cheers which shook the sign-board of Sandy Orton’s
-saloon.</p>
-
-<p>Now the mayor of Appleton had declared deathless war against the
-saloons in his platform, but since his election he had been strangely
-silent upon the liquor question. He was as canny as his red hair
-suggested, and he had a truly Scotch insight into the crucial moments
-of life. He perceived the arrival of Lefty Cornwall to be such a
-moment, and he perceived at the same moment the correct way of meeting
-that crisis.</p>
-
-<p>It was with surprise no less than pleasure that the throng heard the
-lusty voice of their chief official inviting them to Sandy Orton’s
-saloon, and where they were in doubt, his beckoning arm put them
-right. They filled the saloon from bar to door, and those who could
-not enter thronged at the entrances with gaping mouths.</p>
-
-<p>The sheriff was equal to the occasion. He mounted the bar much as a
-plainsman mounts a horse, and standing in full view of his fellow
-citizens, he invited Lefty Cornwall to join him in his prominent
-position. Nowise loath, Lefty swung onto the bar in the most approved
-fashion, and stood, locked arm in arm with the dignified official of
-Appleton. In the mean time the bartenders, thrilled equally with
-surprise and pleasure, passed out the drinks to the crowded room. It
-was apparently a moment big in portent to Appleton, and not a heart
-there but pulsed big with pride in their mayor.</p>
-
-<p>“Fellow citizens,” began the mayor, raising a large freckled hand for
-silence.</p>
-
-<p>A hush fell upon the assemblage.</p>
-
-<p>“Boys,” continued the mayor, after a proper silence reigned, “I
-haven’t got much to say.”</p>
-
-<p>“Here’s to you!” yelled a voice. “I hate a guy that’s noisy.”</p>
-
-<p>The mayor frowned and waved a commanding hand for silence.</p>
-
-<p>“I spotted you, Pete Bartlett,” he called. “If you don’t like silence
-you must hate yourself.”</p>
-
-<p>The crowd roared with approving laughter.</p>
-
-<p>“Boys,” began Orval Kendricks again, when the laughter had subsided,
-“this here is a solemn occasion. I feel called upon to summon the
-manhood of this here town to listen to my words, and I reckon that
-most of the manhood of the town is within hearin’.”</p>
-
-<p>A chorus of assent followed.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t need any Daniel Webster to tell you men that this here town
-is hard hit,” continued Mayor Kendricks. “It don’t need no Henry Clay
-to tell you that these diggin’s are about to bust up unless we have
-the right sort of a strong arm man in town. We’ve been sufferin’
-patiently from the aggressions of a red-handed desperado who I don’t
-need to mention, because his name just naturally burns my tongue.”</p>
-
-<p>“Slim Malone!” cried a dozen voices. “We’re followin’ you, chief!”</p>
-
-<p>The mayor thrust his hand into his breast and extended the other arm
-in imitation of a popular wood-cut of Patrick Henry. The crowd
-acknowledged the eloquence of the attitude with a common gaping.</p>
-
-<p>“There may be some of you guys,” cried the mayor, rising to the
-emotion of the moment, “there may be some of you guys who don’t know
-the man I mean, but I reckon that a tolerable pile of Appleton’s best
-citizens spend a large part of their time cursing Slim Malone.”</p>
-
-<p>“We ain’t through damning him yet,” yelled a voice, and the crowd
-voiced their assent, half in growls and half in laughter.</p>
-
-<p>“He has tricked our posse as an honest man would be ashamed to do,”
-went on the mayor, warming to his oration; “he has shot our citizens,
-and he has swiped our gold! I’m askin’ you as man to man, can a
-self-respectin’ community stand for this? It can’t. What’s the answer
-that Appleton makes to this desperado?”</p>
-
-<p>He paused and frowned the audience into a state of suspense.</p>
-
-<p>“There is only one answer to this gun-fighter, and that answer stands
-at my right hand,” bellowed the mayor, when he judged that the silence
-had sunk into his hearers sufficiently. “The name of the answer is
-Lefty Cornwall!”</p>
-
-<p>The following burst of applause brought a momentary blush into even
-Lefty’s cheek. At the reiterated demands for a speech he hitched at
-his revolver in its skeleton holster, removed his sombrero, and mopped
-his forehead with a ponderous hand. When it became evident that the
-hero was about to break into utterance the crowd became silent.</p>
-
-<p>“Fellows,” began the gun-fighter, “makin’ speeches ain’t much in my
-line.”</p>
-
-<p>“Makin’ dead men is more your game,” broke in the wit of the
-assemblage.</p>
-
-<p>A universal hiss attested that the crowd was anxious to hear the Texan
-gun-man out.</p>
-
-<p>“But if you are goin’ to do me the honor of makin’ me sheriff of this
-here county and this here city of Appleton,” he continued, letting his
-eye rove down Appleton’s one street, “I’m here to state that law and
-order is goin’ to be maintained here at all costs. Right here I got to
-state that the only costs I’m referrin’ to is the price of the powder
-and lead for this here cannon of mine.”</p>
-
-<p>The crowd broke in upon the speech with noisy appreciation, and many
-cries of “That’s the stuff, old boy!”</p>
-
-<p>“I been hearin’ a tolerable pile about one Slim Malone,” went on the
-new sheriff.</p>
-
-<p>“So have we,” broke in the irrepressible wit of the assemblage, only
-to be choked into silence by more serious-minded neighbors.</p>
-
-<p>“Sure,” agreed the sheriff. “I reckon you’ve heard a lot too much
-about him. But I’m here to state that all this talk about Slim Malone
-has got to stop, and has got to stop sudden. I’m here to stop it.”</p>
-
-<p>He hitched his holster a little forward again as he spoke and a deep
-silence fell upon the crowd.</p>
-
-<p>“Fellow citizens,” he continued, spitting liberally over the side of
-the bar, “whatever gun-play is carried on around here in the future is
-to be done strictly by me, and all you men can consider yourselves
-under warning to leave your shootin’-irons at home, unless you want to
-use them to dig premature graves.”</p>
-
-<p>This advice was received with an ironical chuckle of appreciation from
-the crowd.</p>
-
-<p>“As for Slim Malone,” he went on, “I’m goin’ out into the Weston Hills
-to get him single handed. I don’t want no posse. I’ll get him single
-handed or bust, you can lay to that; and if I come back to this town
-without Slim Malone, alive or dead, you can say that Malone has the
-Indian sign on me.”</p>
-
-<p>Having finished all that he had to say, Lefty felt about in his mind
-to find a graceful manner of closing his exordium, when the mayor came
-to his assistance. He recognized that nervous clearing of the throat
-and wandering of the eyes out of his own first political experiences.
-Now he raised his glass of colored alcohol and water, which in
-Appleton rejoiced in the name of Bourbon.</p>
-
-<p>“Boys,” he shouted, “there ain’t no better way of showin’ our
-appreciation of our new sheriff than by turnin’ bottoms up. Let’s go!”</p>
-
-<p>Every hand in the barroom flashed into the air, and after a loud whoop
-there was a brief gurgling sound which warmed the heart of Sandy
-Orton.</p>
-
-<p>It should have been the signal for a day’s carousal, and the good
-citizens of Appleton were no wise averse. They desired to hear the
-voice of their new sheriff in friendly converse. They desired to see
-him in that most amiable of all poses, his foot on the rail and his
-hand on the bar. They wanted to look him over and size him up just as
-a boy wishes to fondle his first gun. But the sheriff objected. He was
-sorry to spoil the fun. He said that they could go ahead and have
-their little time, but that they must leave him out. He had business
-to perform that didn’t admit of drinking.</p>
-
-<p>There might have been adverse criticism of this Spartan strenuousness,
-but at this point a diversion occurred in the shape of four wild
-riders who broke into Appleton and brought the word that Slim Malone
-had been out again. This time he had held up a mule train on its way
-to carry provisions up Bender Cañon to Earl Parrish’s claim. With his
-usual fine restraint Slim had taken no lives, but he had winged two of
-the drivers badly and had helped himself from the provisions without
-unnecessary waste. He had even lingered to give first aid to the two
-drivers whose courage had overcome their sense of proportion.</p>
-
-<p>If anything had been needed to spur on the new official of Appleton it
-came in the form of the message which Slim Malone had left with the
-wounded man before he rode away.</p>
-
-<p>“Tell the new sheriff,” he called, as he sat easily in the saddle,
-“that I’ve heard of him, and that I’ll organize a little party for him
-as soon as possible so that we can get better acquainted. Tell him
-that the one thing he lacks to make him a good fighting man is a sense
-of humor.”</p>
-
-<p>Lefty Cornwall heard this message in silence the while he spat with
-vicious precision into a distant spittoon. Afterward, and still in
-silence, he retired and worked for an hour cleaning his already
-shining revolver and patting and oiling the holster. He performed
-these grave functions in the house of the mayor, and that dignitary
-announced later that he had wound up by practising the draw and point,
-walking and sitting down, and at every angle. The mayor was impressed
-past speech.</p>
-
-<p>When Lefty issued at last he found a score of hard riders standing by
-their horses in the street.</p>
-
-<p>“An’ what might all this here gang be for?” inquired Lefty mildly.</p>
-
-<p>“We’re the posse, waitin’ to be sworn in,” announced one of the men.</p>
-
-<p>“Swearin’ in takes a terrible lot of time,” said Lefty, “an’ besides,
-I don’t know how it’s done. I don’t want no posse, as I said before. I
-wouldn’t know how to handle it. Anyway, twenty men on horseback make
-enough noise to scare away a whole gang of bandits. You might as well
-start lookin’ for trouble with a brass band, because you’d sure find
-the trouble.”</p>
-
-<p>He hitched at his belt in his customary manner when at a loss for
-words, and his right hand dropped gracefully upon the handle of his
-gun and drooped thereon somewhat sinisterly.</p>
-
-<p>“This here Malone,” went on the sheriff, “may be a tolerable bad man
-in his way, but I ain’t no shorn lamb myself. I’m goin’ out to get
-him, an’ I’m goin’ to get him by myself. I reckon that’s final.”</p>
-
-<p>They accepted his announcement with cheers, and set about offering all
-the information in their power. It was generally believed that the
-bandit lived somewhere at the far end of Eagle Head Cañon, about
-fifteen miles from the town. His dwelling had never been spotted, but
-he was most frequently seen riding to and from this place. Thrice
-posses had raked the cañon as with a fine-toothed comb, but they had
-never come upon a trace of his habitation; but the cañon was thick
-with caves, and heaped with giant boulders which offered innumerable
-places of concealment, and the legend was strong that Slim Malone
-lived in that place.</p>
-
-<p>The next thing was to find a proper mount. This proved a more
-difficult task. The sheriff knew horses from nose to hoof, and he was
-hard to please. At last he selected a tall roan with a wicked eye and
-flat shoulders which promised speed. These preparations made, he swung
-to the saddle, waved his hand to the crowd, and galloped out of town.</p>
-
-<p>There was not much bluff about Lefty Cornwall, as the curious-minded
-had frequently discovered in the past, but as he swung into the narrow
-throat of Eagle Head Cañon, he began to realize that he might have
-gone too far. While he was in the town it had been easy enough to make
-ringing speeches. Now that the evening began to come down by lazy,
-cool degrees a certain diffidence grew in him.</p>
-
-<p>He had fought many men during his brief life, but he had never come
-across a reputation as strange or as fascinating as this of Slim
-Malone. If the challenge which the bandit had sent him was irritating,
-it also roused in his mind a certain degree of respect, and as he rode
-up the cañon, winding slowly among the boulders, a hundred doubts
-infested his mind.</p>
-
-<p>If he had been back upon the level reaches of the Texan desert, which
-he knew, these uncertainties would probably have never entered his
-head, but here every half mile of his journey was passed under the eye
-of a thousand coverts from which a man could have picked him off with
-the safety of a hunter firing from a blind at partridges. Moreover a
-curious loneliness akin to homesickness came in him, located, as far
-as he could discover, chiefly in the pit of the stomach.</p>
-
-<p>The mountains were blue now, and purple along their upper reaches, and
-as the sun left off the moon took up her reign over the chill blue
-spaces. It was very solemn, almost funereal to the thought of Lefty
-Cornwall. And the silence was punctuated with the melancholy howling
-of a far-off coyote.</p>
-
-<p>It was complete night before he reached the upper end of Eagle Head
-Cañon, and he was weary from the stumbling gait of his horse over the
-rocks. Moreover, the mountain night air was cold—very cold to Lefty.
-He wanted desperately to turn back, but he had not the heart to face
-the inquiries which would meet him at the town, and the covert smiles
-which would welcome the hero returning empty handed, the man who
-needed no posse.</p>
-
-<p>Lefty was a very brave man, but like almost all of the physically
-courageous, he dreaded derision more than actual pain. Yet, in spite
-of this he finally decided that it was better to go back to the town
-and face the smiles than to remain through the cold night in these
-dread silences. He wished heartily that he had taken one other man
-with him if it were only for the companionship. As it was he felt that
-it was no use to hunt further, and he started back down the cañon. He
-had not gone far when his horse stumbled and commenced to limp.</p>
-
-<p>Lefty got off with a curse and felt of the fore hoofs. The difficulty
-proved to be a sharp, three-cornered rock which had been picked up
-under the shoe of the left fore foot. He was bending over to pry this
-loose between his fingers when he caught the glint of a light.</p>
-
-<p>In his excitement he sprang upright and stared. At once the light
-disappeared. Lefty began to feel ghostly. His senses had never played
-him such tricks before.</p>
-
-<p>He leaned over and commenced work on the stone again, but as he did so
-his eye caught the same glint of light. There was no possible mistake
-about it this time. He remained bent over and stared at it until he
-was certain that he saw a yellow spot of light, a long, thin ray which
-pointed out to him like a finger through the shadows.</p>
-
-<p>This time he took the bearings of the light carefully, and when he
-stood up he was able to locate it again. Lefty’s heart beat high.</p>
-
-<p>He threw the reins over his horse’s head and commenced to stalk the
-light carefully. Sometimes as he slipped and stumbled over the rocks
-he lost sight of it altogether, only to have it reappear when he had
-almost given up hopes of finding it again. And so he came upon the
-cave.</p>
-
-<p>The light shone through a little chink between two tall boulders, and
-as Lefty pressed his eye to the aperture, holding his breath as he did
-so, he saw a long dugout, perhaps a dozen paces from end to end, and
-some five paces wide. Behind a partition at one end he heard the
-stamping of a horse, and as Lefty gazed, a magnificent white head rose
-behind the partition and looked fairly at him. His heart stopped as
-that great-eyed gaze turned on him, the ears pricking and the wisp of
-hay motionless in the mouth. But after a moment the horse dropped his
-head again and went on crunching his fodder, stamping now and then and
-snorting as he ate.</p>
-
-<p>At first he saw no other occupant of the place, but by moving his eye
-to one side of the aperture he managed to get a glimpse of the bandit
-himself. There was no question about his identity. From the
-descriptions which he had heard while in Appleton he knew him at once,
-the expressionless gray eyes, and the thin, refined face with an
-almost Greek modeling about its lower part.</p>
-
-<p>He sat tilted back in a heavy chair smoking a pipe and reading, and
-Lefty saw that he sat facing a blanket at the far end of the room.
-Evidently this was the entrance. So far as Lefty could see the bandit
-was unarmed, his two long guns lying on the table half a dozen paces
-away.</p>
-
-<p>Very softly he crept along the side of the boulder, and finally came
-to an aperture, as he had expected. It was just wide enough for a man
-to press through, and from the chisel marks at his sides it had
-evidently been artificially widened from time to time. At the end of
-the narrow passage hung the blanket.</p>
-
-<p>If Lefty had proceeded cautiously up to this point, his caution now
-became almost animal-like. Behind that blanket he had no idea what was
-happening. Perhaps the bandit had heard a noise long before, and was
-now crouched against the wall in another part of the place, ready to
-open fire at the first stir of the blanket. Perhaps he had stolen out
-of the cave by another entrance and was now hunting the hunter. The
-thought sent a chill down Lefty’s back and he turned his head quickly.
-Then he resumed his slow progress. At the very edge of the blanket he
-paused for a long and deathly minute, but Lefty was not a woman, to
-fail at the last moment.</p>
-
-<p>He swung the blanket aside and crouched in the entrance with his gun
-leveled. The little round sight framed the face of Slim Malone, who
-still sat reading quietly and puffing at a black-bowled pipe.</p>
-
-<p>“Hands up!” said Lefty softly.</p>
-
-<p>Even then, with his bead on his man, he did not feel entirely sure of
-himself. It seemed that this could not be true. Opportunity had
-favored him too much. There must still be some turn of the game.</p>
-
-<p>The meaningless gray eyes raised calmly from the book. It seemed to
-Lefty that a yellow glint came into them for a moment like the light
-that comes into an animal’s eyes when it is angered, but the next
-moment it was gone, and he could not be sure that it had come there at
-all. The rest of the face was perfectly calm. Malone lowered the book
-slowly and then raised his hands above his head.</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, sheriff,” he said quietly, “I see that you have honored my
-invitation.”</p>
-
-<p>“Right-o,” said Lefty, “I’m here all right.”</p>
-
-<p>He felt strangely relieved after hearing his quarry speak. He stepped
-through the entrance and straightened up, still with the revolver
-leveled. It was beyond his fondest hopes that he should be able to
-bring the desperado alive to Appleton, and the thought of his complete
-success warmed his heart. Also the immediate prospect of that
-five-thousand-dollar bonus.</p>
-
-<p>“In order to remove any strain you may be under,” went on Slim Malone,
-“I’ll assure you that I am quite unarmed. My guns are both lying on
-the table there. In order that you may make sure, I shall stand up,
-with my hands over my head, and turn around slowly. You can examine me
-to your own satisfaction.”</p>
-
-<p>He did as he had said, and Lefty’s practised eyes saw that there was
-not the suspicion of a lump under the clothes.</p>
-
-<p>“Now,” said Slim Malone, as he faced his captor again, and his smile
-was strangely winning, “I hope that I may lower my arms and we can
-commence our little party.”</p>
-
-<p>“Your end of this here party is all over, my beauty,” said Lefty
-grimly, “except that the boys at Appleton may give you a little
-impromptu reception when we hit town. They seem to be rather strong on
-celebrations.”</p>
-
-<p>“So I understand,” smiled Slim Malone. “I have no doubt they will be
-glad to see me.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ain’t no doubt in the world,” grinned Lefty, warming to the perfect
-calm of this man. “Between you an’ me, pal, I’m sorry to have to turn
-this little trick; but—”</p>
-
-<p>Malone waved a careless and reassuring hand.</p>
-
-<p>“Business is business, my dear fellow,” he said.</p>
-
-<p>“That bein’ the case,” said Lefty, “I’ll have to ask you to turn
-around and put your hands behind your back while I put these here
-bracelets on. I don’t want to discourage you any, but while I’m doin’
-it this here gun will be in my hand and pointin’ at your back.”</p>
-
-<p>“Naturally,” nodded Malone; “quite right, of course; but before we
-start on our little jaunt back to the camp won’t you have a drink with
-me? I have some really rare old stuff here; quite different from the
-firewater they put labels on in Appleton.”</p>
-
-<p>Lefty grinned appreciatively.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s a good move, pal,” he said, shaking his head with admiration,
-“an’ I know that you’re hard put to it or you wouldn’t try such an old
-dodge on me. It’s a good move, but down in Texas the booze stunt is so
-old that they’ve almost forgotten it—not quite!”</p>
-
-<p>“Ah,” said Malone, with a little sigh of regret, “then I suppose we
-shall have to ride out in the night without a nip. Gets mighty chilly
-here before morning, you know.”</p>
-
-<p>This fact had gradually dawned on Lefty during his ride up the valley,
-and as he looked forward to the journey back he shivered with
-unpleasant anticipation. In Texas a summer night was one thing; in
-these mountains it was quite another.</p>
-
-<p>“I suppose the booze is the real thing,” he inquired casually.</p>
-
-<p>“There are little bubbles under the glass,” said Slim Malone with
-subtle emotion.</p>
-
-<p>Lefty Cornwall sighed deeply. The taste of the Appleton bar whisky
-still burned his mouth. After all this fellow was a man. He might be a
-criminal, but Lefty’s own past was not free from shady episodes.
-Furthermore he was about to make five thousand dollars on presenting
-him to the good people of Appleton.</p>
-
-<p>“If you sure want a drink before we start, go ahead,” said Lefty.</p>
-
-<p>“The bottle and a glass is over there in that little dugout on the
-wall,” pointed Malone.</p>
-
-<p>In the little open hutch on the wall the sheriff perceived a tall
-bottle which shimmered pleasantly in the torch-light.</p>
-
-<p>“Go ahead,” said the sheriff, “I reckon you know I’m watchin’ all the
-time.”</p>
-
-<p>“Surely,” said Malone pleasantly. “I know you’re on your job all the
-time.”</p>
-
-<p>He walked over to the hutch and picked up the bottle and the glass. He
-paused with the bottle tucked away under his arm.</p>
-
-<p>“Queer thing,” pondered Malone, “the same pack that held this bottle
-of whisky held this also.”</p>
-
-<p>Lefty tightened his grip on the gun as Malone reached deeper into the
-hutch, but he straightened again, and appeared carrying a large
-concert banjo.</p>
-
-<p>“That fellow had taste,” he continued, crossing the room and laying
-down the banjo carelessly on the chair; “just run your eyes over that
-banjo.”</p>
-
-<p>“Some banjo, all right,” said the sheriff, “but hurry up with your
-drink, Malone. We’ve got to be on our way.”</p>
-
-<p>Malone uncorked the bottle and held it under his nose while he inhaled
-a whiff.</p>
-
-<p>“The old aroma, all right,” he pronounced with the air of a
-connoisseur; “must be a vintage as far back as the eighties. You won’t
-join me?”</p>
-
-<p>Now the heart of the sheriff was a human heart, but his will was
-adamant.</p>
-
-<p>“Not me, Malone,” he answered, “I’ve been in the game too long. Can’t
-drink on this sort of a job.”</p>
-
-<p>“Guess you’re right,” murmured Malone, letting the amber stream
-trickle slowly into the glass; “but it’s too bad.”</p>
-
-<p>He raised the glass to his lips and swallowed half of the contents
-slowly.</p>
-
-<p>“The stuff is so oily,” he mused, “that you don’t need a chaser. Just
-sort of oils its own way down, you know.”</p>
-
-<p>The sheriff moistened his lips.</p>
-
-<p>“It certainly is a shame that you can’t taste it,” continued Malone,
-as he drained the glass.</p>
-
-<p>The sheriff hitched his belt with his customary gesture.</p>
-
-<p>“It looks like the real thing,” he said judicially.</p>
-
-<p>“It is,” pronounced Malone with decision, “and after the sort of
-poison they serve you around here—”</p>
-
-<p>The sheriff shuddered with sympathy.</p>
-
-<p>“I reckon,” he said hesitatingly, “that you might pour me just a
-drop.”</p>
-
-<p>It seemed to him that as he spoke the yellow glint came into the eyes
-of Malone again, but a moment later it was gone, and he decided that
-the change had been merely a shadow from the wavering torch-light. He
-took the glass which Malone extended to him under the cover of the
-pointed gun and raised it slowly to his lips.</p>
-
-<p>“Just stand a bit further back while I drink, pal,” he said.</p>
-
-<p>Malone obeyed, and the sheriff tilted the glass. It was, as Malone had
-said, “the real old aroma,” and the sheriff drew a deep breath.</p>
-
-<p>Now there is a saying about liquor that the drink which does the harm
-is “just one more,” and certain it is that one whisky calls for
-another as surely as a question calls for an answer.</p>
-
-<p>“I reckon it ain’t quite as old as you say,” said the sheriff, feeling
-his way from word to word cautiously. “I reckon it ain’t more than
-fifteen years old at the outside.”</p>
-
-<p>Malone paused, with the bottle suspended over the glass to consider.</p>
-
-<p>“I thought that myself when I first drank,” he nodded; “but that was
-before I got used to it. All Bourbon is a little sharp, you know.”</p>
-
-<p>The sheriff was inclined to agree. He also felt sure that one more
-drink would quite banish from his memory the taste of that one drink
-in Appleton. Moreover, the danger, if there was any, was slight, for
-Malone was taking drink for drink with him, and larger drinks at that.
-It was a sort of subtle challenge to the manhood of the sheriff, and
-he was as proud of his capacity for whisky as of his speed with a gun.</p>
-
-<p>It was perhaps half an hour later that the sheriff indicated the banjo
-with a careless wave of the pistol.</p>
-
-<p>“Play any?” he inquired, “or do you keep it around as sort of an
-ornament?”</p>
-
-<p>“Both,” smiled Malone. “It makes the place more homelike, you know,
-and then I sing once in a while, but not often. Folks around here
-aren’t particularly partial to my voice.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m a pretty good judge,” stated the sheriff; “blaze away, and I’ll
-see you ain’t interrupted. Been a long time since I had the pleasure
-of hearing any decent singin’.”</p>
-
-<p>He was, as he said, a fairly good judge, and he was delighted with the
-rich barytone which rang through the cave. After a time, as the whisky
-and the music melted into his mood, he began to call for old
-favorites, darky ballads, and last of all, for the sentimental ditties
-which have always charmed the heart of the rough men of the West:
-“Annie Laurie,” “Old Black Joe,” “Ben Bolt,” “Silver Threads Among the
-Gold.”</p>
-
-<p>As he sang the bandit commenced, naturally, to walk back and forth
-through the cave, and the sheriff sat back in the chair and with
-half-closed eyes waved the revolver back and forth in time. He failed
-to note that as Malone walked up and down each time he made a longer
-trip, until at last he was pacing and turning close to the table on
-which lay the revolvers side by side. He did not note it, or if he did
-his mind was too thrilled with the tender airs and the tenderer liquor
-to register the fact clearly. It faded into the pleasant blur of his
-sensations.</p>
-
-<blockquote>
-<p>Oh, don’t you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt, Sweet Alice with—</p>
-
-</blockquote>
-<p>The music stopped. Malone had stooped over the table with the speed of
-a bird picking up a grain of wheat, and with the same movement he
-whirled and fired. The gun spun from the hand of the sheriff and he
-stood staring into eyes which now beyond all doubt flared with a
-yellow animal fire.</p>
-
-<p>“Now put your hands behind your back after you’ve thrown those
-bracelets to me,” said Malone. “I naturally hate to break up this
-party, but I think you’ve had about enough whisky to keep you warm on
-the ride back, Lefty, my boy.”</p>
-
-<p>There was an insane desire on the sheriff’s part to leap upon Malone
-bare-handed, but he had seen too many fighting men in action before.
-He knew the meaning of those eyes and the steadiness of the revolver.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s your game, Slim,” he said, with as little bitterness as
-possible; “but will you tell me why in the name of God you aren’t on
-the stage? It isn’t what you do, pal, it’s the way you do it!”</p>
-
-<p>Appleton woke early the next morning. Some one shouted and then fired
-a pistol. The populace gathered at windows and doors rubbing sleepy
-eyes which a moment later shone wide awake, and yawns turned into
-yells of laughter, for down the middle of Appleton’s one street came
-the sheriff. He was sitting the roan horse, with his feet tied below
-the girth, and his hands tied behind his back. And even the weary roan
-seemed to feel in his drooping head the defeat of his rider.</p>
-
-<p>Upon the back of the sheriff was a large piece of cardboard, upon
-which was printed in large letters the following:</p>
-
-<blockquote>
-<p>I’m sending this back with my signature in token of a pleasant evening
-in my home in Eagle Head Cañon. I’m sorry to announce that I’m moved.
-<span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Slim Malone</span>.</p>
-
-</blockquote>
-<div class="tn">
- <p style='text-indent:0'>Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in
- the June 14, 1919 issue of <i>All-Story Weekly</i> magazine.</p>
-</div>
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAUGHTER OF SLIM MALONE ***</div>
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