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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +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. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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..68a8ab9 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #67431 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/67431) diff --git a/old/67431-0.txt b/old/67431-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index e8c8344..0000000 --- a/old/67431-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8359 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Buckaroo of Blue Wells, by W. C. Tuttle - -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 Buckaroo of Blue Wells - -Author: W. C. Tuttle - -Release Date: February 18, 2022 [eBook #67431] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Roger Frank and Sue Clark. This file was produced from - images generously made available by The Internet Archive. - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BUCKAROO OF BLUE WELLS *** - - - Buckaroo of Blue Wells - By W. C. Tuttle - - - Meet Hashknife and Sleepy again in - W. C. Tuttle’s New Complete Novel - The Buckaroo of Blue Wells - - - - - I—BOOKKEEPERS - - -James Eaton Legg hooked his heels over the rounds of his high stool, -stretched wearily and looked out through the none-too-clean windows to -where a heavy fog almost obscured the traffic. Heavy trucks lumbered -past, grinding harshly over the cobbles. Somewhere a street-car -motorman did a trap-drum effect on his gong; a ferry boat whistled -boomingly. And there was the incessant roar of the every-day noises of -the commercial district. - -James Eaton Legg was not a prepossessing person. He was less than -thirty years of age, slightly beneath medium height, slender. His face -was thin, rather boyish, his mild blue eyes hidden behind a pair of -glasses. His mouth was wide, and when he yawned wearily he showed a -good set of teeth. - -For several years James had been a bookkeeper with Mellon & Co., -Wholesale Grocers, San Francisco—and he was still acting in the same -capacity. His slightly stooped shoulders attested to the fact that -James had bent diligently over his work. Whether fortunately, or -unfortunately, James was an orphan. His mother had died while he was -still very young, and when James had just finished high school, his -father had gone the way of all flesh. - -James was cognizant of the fact that somewhere in the world he had -some relatives, but that fact caused him little concern. He remembered -that his mother had a sister, who was well endowed with worldly goods, -and he also remembered that his father had said that his Aunt Martha -would probably die with all her wealth intact. - -James turned from his contemplation of the foggy street, and his blue -eyes studied the occupants of the big office. There was Henry Marsh, -humped like an old buzzard, his long nose close to the ledger page, as -he had been the first time James had seen him. He had grown old with -Mellon & Co.—so old that he worried about his job. - -There were younger men, working adding machines, delving in accounts; -preparing themselves for a life of drudgery. Over in the cashier’s -cage was David Conley, frozenfaced, pathetic; as old as Mellon & Co. -James shuddered slightly. If he lived to be seventy, and worked -faithfully, he might occupy that cage. - -James was being paid the munificent sum of seventy dollars a month. He -happened to know that David Conley drew one hundred and fifty dollars -in his monthly envelope. James shook his head and shifted his gaze -back to the window. He did not feel like working. It all seemed so -useless; this idea of putting down figures and adding them up; eating, -sleeping, and coming back to put down more figures. - -He turned from contemplation of the wet street, and looked at Blair -Mellon, senior member of the firm, who had come in from his private -office. He was nearing seventy, thin, stooped, irascible. Nothing -seemed to please him. His beady eyes shifted from one employee to -another, as he walked slowly. He had made a success of business, but a -wreck of himself. The boys of the firm called him “Caucus,” because of -the fact that once a week he would hold a caucus in the office, at -which time he would impress upon them the fact that the firm was -everything, and that nothing else mattered. - -He would invite suggestions from department heads, and when an idea -did not please him he would fly into a rage. James Eaton Legg mildly -suggested at one of the caucuses that the firm supply each bookkeeper -with a fountain pen, in order to economize on lost motions—and nearly -lost his job. Not because of trying to increase the efficiency of the -bookkeeping department, but because fountain pens cost money. - -All the firm mail came to Blair Mellon’s office, and it was his -delight to distribute it. Just now he had several letters which he was -passing out. He walked past James, stopped. James was looking at the -street again. The old man scowled at the letters in his hand, one of -which was addressed to James Eaton Legg. It bore the imprint of a -Chicago law firm. - -Blair Mellon did not believe that a bookkeeper should waste his time -in looking out of the window, but just now he couldn’t think of a -fitting rebuke; so he placed the letter on James Legg’s desk and went -on. - -James Legg’s mild blue eyes contemplated the name of the law firm on -the envelope. It all looked so very legal that James wondered what it -might all mean. He drew out the enclosure and read it carefully. Then -he removed his glasses, polished them carefully, and read it again. -Then he propounded inelegantly, but emphatically— - -“Well, I’ll be ——!” - -Blair Mellon had come back past the desk just in time to hear this -exclamation. He stopped short and stared at James. - -“Mr. Legg!” he said curtly. “You evidently forget the rule against -profanity in this office.” - -But James Legg ignored everything, except his own thoughts. - -“If that don’t beat ——, what does?” he queried. - -Blair Mellon stared aghast. This was downright mutiny. He struggled -for the proper words with which to rebuke this young man. - -“Say, Caucus,” said James, giving Mellon the nickname he had never -heard before, “where do they raise cattle?” - -“Were you speaking to me, sir?” demanded Mellon. - -James realized what he had said, and for a moment his face flushed. - -“I beg your pardon, Mr. Mellon.” - -“I should think you would, sir. Such language!” - -It seemed that all work had ceased in the office. Not even a telephone -bell rang. - -“Have you any excuse for speaking in such a manner?” demanded the old -man, conscious that every one had heard. - -James Eaton Legg surveyed the room. Every eye was upon him. He noticed -that even the stenographers had ceased chewing their gum. Then James -Legg laughed, as he drew off his black sateen oversleeves and cast -them aside. He slid off his stool, almost into the irate Mellon. - -“Well, sir!” the old man’s voice creaked. - -“Aw, save it for somebody that’s working for you,” said James Legg -easily. “I’ve quit.” - -“Quit?” - -“Yes. Strange, isn’t it?” James Legg smiled at the old man. -“Bookkeepers don’t usually quit, do they? No, they stick to the job -until their chin hits their knees, and the undertaker has to put them -in a press for two days before they’ll fit a casket. I suppose the -cashier will pay me off, Mr. Mellon.” - -“Well—er—yes, sir! It is just as well that you do quit. This is very, -very unusual for an employee of Mellon and Company to—” - -“To quit?” smiled James. “Sets a precedent.” - -“Ordinarily, we would offer a letter of recommendation, but in a case -of—” - -“Couldn’t use it, but thank you just the same, Mr. Mellon. I am -through keeping books. I’m going to take a job where I can breathe -fresh air, smoke a cigaret on the job and swear when I —— please.” - -The old man’s lean jaw set tightly for a moment, but he said icily: - -“And what are you going to do, if I may ask?” - -“Me?” James Legg smiled broadly around the room. “I’m going to be a -cowpuncher.” - -“A—a—what?” - -“A cowboy, if that makes it plain to you.” - -One of the stenographers tittered. She had her own idea of a cowboy, -possibly not from the real article; so she might be forgiven for -seeing humor in Legg’s statement. He flushed a little, turned on his -heel and went to the wash-room, every one looking after him. Blair -Mellon broke the spell with— - -“The incident is over, I believe, ladies and gentlemen.” - -Which was sufficient to put them all back to work, while James Eaton -Legg accepted his pay from the stiff-faced cashier and walked out into -the foggy street. He felt just a little weak over it all. It was hard -to realize that he was at last without a job. - -It was the first time in years that he had been without a job, and the -situation rather appalled him, and he stopped on a corner, wondering -whether he hadn’t been just a trifle abrupt in quitting Mellon & -Company. - -But he realized that the die was cast; so he went to his -boarding-house and to his room, where he secured an old atlas. -Spreading out a map on the bed he studied the western States. Arizona -seemed to appeal to him; so he ran a pencil-point along the railroad -lines, wondering just where in Arizona he would care to make his -start. - -The pencil-point stopped at Blue Wells, and he instinctively made a -circle around the name. It seemed rather isolated, and James Legg had -an idea that it must be a cattle country. Something or somebody was -making a noise at his door; so he got up from the bed. - -He opened the door and found that the noise had been made by a dog; a -rough-coated mongrel, yellowish-red, with one black eye, which gave -him a devil-may-care expression. He was dirty and wet, panting from a -hard run, but he sat up and squinted at James Legg, his tongue hanging -out. - -“Where did you come from, dog?” demanded James. “I don’t think I have -ever seen you before.” - -The dog held up one wet paw, and James shook hands with him solemnly. -Came the sound of a heavy voice down-stairs, and the dog shot past -James and went under the bed. The voice was audible now, and James -could distinguish the high-pitched voice of the landlady, raised in -protest. - -“But I tell ye I seen him come in here, ma’am,” declared the heavy -voice. “A kind of a yaller one, he was.” - -“But no one in this house owns a dog,” protested the landlady. “We -don’t allow dogs in here.” - -“Don’t ye? And have ye the rules printed in dog language, so that the -dogs would know it, ma’am? Belike he’s in one of the halls, tryin’ to -hide.” - -“I’m sure you’re mistaken, officer. But I’ll go with you, if you care -to make a search of the halls.” - -“I’ll do that, ma’am.” - -James closed his door, leaving only a crack wide enough for him to see -the landlady, followed by a big burly policeman, come to the head of -the stairs. They came past his door, and he heard them farther down -the hall. The dog was still under the bed, and as they came back James -stepped into the hall. - -“We are looking for a yellow dog, Mr. Legg,” explained the landlady. -“You haven’t seen one, have you?” - -“Sort of yaller and red,” supplemented the officer. - -James shook his head. “Must be an important yellow dog to have the -police hunting for him.” - -“He’s important to me,” growled the officer. “Jist a dirty stray, so -he is.” - -“But why are you hunting for a stray dog, officer?” - -“Because he’s a dangerous dog. I threw a rock at him, tryin’ to chase -him off me beat, and the dirty cur picked up the rock and brought it -back to me.” - -“A retriever, eh?” - -“I dunno his breed.” - -“But that doesn’t make him dangerous.” - -“Then I took a kick at him and he bit me, so he did. He tore the leg -of me pants and I had to go home and change. I didn’t no more than get -back on me beat, when there he was, probably lookin’ for another -chance at me legs. But I took after him and I was sure he ran in -here.” - -“Well, I’m sure he never did,” said the landlady. “But we’ll look in -the other halls.” - -James went back in the room and found the dog sitting in the middle of -the floor, one ear cocked up, his brown eyes fixed on James, his -tongue hanging out, as if he had heard all of the conversation and was -laughing at the policeman. - -James held out his hand and they shook seriously. - -“Dog,” said James seriously, “you did what I’ve often thought I’d like -to do—bite a policeman. I swore out loud in Mellon and Company’s -office, and you bit a cop. We’re a disgraceful pair. I’m wondering if -you’re a cattle dog—” James sighed heavily— “Well, anyway, you’re as -much of a cattle dog as I am a cowpuncher. Sit down and make yourself -at home.” - -It was half an hour later that James Eaton Legg walked out of his -room, carrying a heavy valise, while behind him came the dog, walking -carefully, peering around the legs of his newly found master. - -At the foot of the stairs they met the landlady. She stared at the dog -and at James. - -“That was the dog the policeman was looking for!” she exclaimed in a -horrified screech. “Don’t let him come toward me! You get that dog out -of here, Mr. Legg! You know we don’t allow dogs in here. Take him—” - -“That dog,” said James calmly, “is very particular who he bites, -ma’am. If my bill is ready—” - -“Oh, are you leaving us, Mr. Legg?” - -“Yes’m, me and—er—Geronimo are leaving. If any mail comes for me, -forward it to Jim Legg, Blue Wells, Arizona.” - -“Oh, yes. Blue Wells, Arizona. Are you going out there for your -health?” - -“Well,” said Jim Legg, as he paid his bill, “I don’t know just how -it’ll affect me physically. It’ll probably be a good thing for -Geronimo—give him a change of diet. And for the good of the police -force I suppose I better phone for a taxi.” - -And thus did Jim Legg, erstwhile James Eaton Legg, quit his job, adopt -a dog and start for Blue Wells, just an isolated spot on the map of -Arizona—all in the same day. - - - - - II—THE PREACHER’S HORSE - - -It was the biggest two-handed poker game ever played in Blue Wells, -and when “Antelope Jim” Neal, owner of the Blue Wells Oasis Saloon, -raked in the last pot, “Tex” Alden rubbed the back of his hand across -his dry lips and shut his weary eyes. He had lost eight thousand -dollars. - -“Is that all, Tex?” asked Neal, and his voice held a hope that the big -cowboy would answer in the affirmative. The game had never ceased for -thirty-six hours. - -“As far as I’m concerned,” said Tex slowly. “I don’t owe yuh anythin’, -do I?” - -“Not a cent, Tex. Have a drink?” - -“Yeah—whisky.” - -Tex got to his feet, stretching himself wearily. He was well over six -feet tall, habitually gloomy of countenance. His hair was black, as -were his jowls, even after a close shave. There were dark circles -around his brown eyes, and his hand trembled as he poured out a full -glass of liquor and swallowed it at a gulp. - -“Here’s better luck next time, Tex,” said Neal. - -“Throw it into yuh,” said Tex shortly. “But as far as luck is -concerned—” - -“It did kinda break against yuh, Tex.” - -“Kinda, ——! Well, see yuh later.” - -Tex adjusted his hat and walked outside, while Neal went to his room -at the back of the saloon, threw off his clothes and piled into bed. -At the bar several cowboys added another drink to their already large -collection and marveled at the size of Tex Alden’s losses. - -“’F I lost that much, I’d have a —— of a time buyin’ any Christmas -presents for m’ friends, next December,” said Johnny Grant, a -diminutive cowboy from the AK ranch. - -“There ain’t that much money,” declared “Eskimo” Swensen, two hundred -pounds of authority on any subject, who also drew forty dollars per -month from the AK. “It takes over sixteen years of steady work, -without spendin’ a cent, to make that much money. Never let anybody -tell yuh that there is any eight thousand in one lump sum.” - -“And that statement carries my indorsement,” nodded the third hired -man of the AK, “Oyster” Shell, a wry-necked, buck-toothed specimen of -the genus cowboy, whose boot-heels were so badly run over on the outer -sides that it was difficult for him to attain his full height. - -“There has been that much,” argued Johnny. “I ’member one time when I -had—” - -“Eighty,” interrupted Oyster. “Yuh got so drunk you seen a coupla -extra ciphers, Johnny. I feel m’self stretchin’ a point to let yuh -have eighty.” - -“I votes for eight,” declared Eskimo heavily. - -“Eight thousand ain’t so awful much,” said “Doc” Painter, the -bartender, who wore a curl on his forehead, and who was a human -incense stick, reeking of violets. - -Johnny looked closely at Doc, placed his Stetson on the bar and -announced— - -“Mister Rockerbilt will now take the stand and speak on ‘Money I Have -Seen.’” - -“Misser Rockerbilt,” Oyster bowed his head against the bar and stepped -on his new hat before he could recover it. - -“A-a-a-aw, ——!” snorted the bartender. “I’ve seen more than eight -thousand, I’ll tell yuh that. I’ve had—” - -“Now, Doc,” warned Eskimo. “Seein’ and havin’ are two different -things. We all know that yuh came from a wealthy family, who gave yuh -everythin’ yuh wanted, and nothin’ yuh needed. But if you ever try to -make us believe that you had eight thousand dollars, we’ll sure as —— -kick yuh out of our Sunday-school, because yuh never came by it -honestly.” - -“Yeah, and yuh don’t need to say we ain’t got no Sunday-school,” added -Oyster hastily. “Last Sunday—” - -“I heard about it.” - -The bartender carefully polished a glass, breathing delicately upon it -the while. - -“Lemme have that glass a minute,” said Johnny, and the unsuspecting -bartender gave it to him. Johnny selected a place on the bar-rail and -proceeded to smash the glass. - -“What the —— did yuh do that for?” demanded the bartender hotly. - -“What for?” Johnny lifted his brows and stared at the bartender with -innocent eyes. - -“Yea-a-ah! Why smash that glass?” - -“Well, yuh can’t expect anybody to ever drink out of it, could yuh? -After you yawnin’ upon it thataway, Doc. I know—well I don’t want to -draw it.” - -“——, that don’t hurt the glass!” - -“Well, of all things!” shrilled Oyster. “As long as the glass don’t -get hurt, everythin’ is all right. I’ll betcha he’s yawned upon every -glass he’s got. If we was ever goin’ to drink in this place again, I’d -argue in favor of smashin’ every glass he’s got on that back bar.” - -And the bartender knew that the AK outfit were entirely capable of -doing just such a thing. But they were not quite drunk enough to -accept Oyster’s suggestion. At any rate their minds were diverted by -the entrance of “Scotty” Olson, the big lumbering sheriff of Blue -Wells, whose sense of humor was not quite as big nor as lively as a -fever germ. - -Scotty wore a buffalo-horn mustache, which matched the huge eyebrows -that shaded his little eyes. He was a powerful person, huge of hand, -heavy-voiced, rather favoring a sawed-off, double-barreled shotgun, -which he handled with one hand. - -“The law is among us,” said Johnny seriously. “Have a little drink, -Mister Law?” - -“No.” Scotty was without finesse. - -“Have a cigar?” asked Eskimo. - -“No.” - -“Have a chaw?” queried Oyster pleasantly. - -“No. I was just talkin’ with the preacher.” - -“Tryin’ to reform yuh?” asked Johnny. - -“Reform? No. He wants to know which one of you punchers tin-canned his -horse?” - -The three cowboys looked at each other. Their expression of amazement -was rather overdone. The bartender chuckled, and Johnny turned -quickly. - -“What in —— is so funny about it, Doc?” he demanded. “It’s no laughin’ -matter, I’d tell a man,” he turned to the sheriff. - -“You surely don’t think we’d do a thing like that, Sheriff.” - -“I dunno,” the sheriff scratched his head, tilting his hat down over -one eye. - -“My ——, that would be sacrilege!” exclaimed Eskimo. - -“The Last Warnin’,” corrected Oyster seriously, not knowing the -meaning of sacrilege. The Last Warnin’ was an ancient sway-backed -white horse, which the minister drove to an old wobble-wheeled buggy. -He had a mean eye and a propensity for digging his old hammer-shaped -head into the restaurant garbage cans. - -“It ain’t funny,” said the sheriff. “There ain’t nothin’ funny about -tin-cannin’ a horse. Louie Sing’s big copper slop-can is missin’, and -Louie swears that he’s goin’ to sue the preacher. I reckon it’s up to -you boys to pay the preacher for his horse and Louie Sing for his -copper can. The preacher says that fifty is about right for the horse, -and Louie swears that he can’t replace the can for less than ten.” - -“Well,” sighed Johnny, “all I can say is that you and the preacher and -the Chink are plumb loco, if you think we’re goin’ to pay sixty -dollars for a—for somethin’ we never done.” - -“Where’d we get sixty dollars—even if we was guilty?” wondered Oyster. - -“Yuh might make it in Sunday-school,” suggested the bartender. - -“In Sunday-school? What do yuh mean?” - -“Well,” grinned Doc, “I hear that one of yuh put a four-bit piece in -the collection plate and took out ninety-five cents in change.” - -Whether or not there was any truth in the statement, Johnny Grant took -sudden exceptions to it and flung himself across the bar, pawing at -the bartender, whose shoulders collided with the stacked glassware on -the back bar, as he tried to escape the clawing hands. - -“Stop that!” yelled the sheriff. - -He rushed at Johnny, trying to save the worthy bartender from assault, -but one of his big boots became entangled with the feet of Oyster -Shell, and he sprawled on his face, narrowly missing the bar-rail, -while into him fell Eskimo Olson, backward, of course, his spurs -catching in the sheriff’s vest and shirt and almost disrobing him. - -With a roar of wrath the sheriff got to his feet, made an ineffectual -swing at Eskimo, and ran at Oyster, who had backed to the center of -the room, holding a chair in both hands. The sheriff was so wrathy -that he ignored the chair, until Oyster flung it down against his -shins, and the sheriff turned a complete somersault, which knocked all -the breath out of him. - -Johnny Grant had swung around on the bar in time to see the sheriff -crash down, ignoring the perspiring bartender, who, armed with a -bottle, had backed to the end of the bar. The sheriff got to his feet, -one foot still fast between the rounds of the chair, and looked -vacantly around. Then he grinned foolishly and headed for the front -door, dragging the chair. - -It tripped him as he went across the threshold and he fell on his -knees outside. Then he got to his feet, tore the offending chair -loose, flung it viciously out into the street, and went lurching -toward his office, scratching his head, as if wondering what it was -all about. - -“Knocked back seven generations,” whooped Eskimo, as he clung to -Johnny Grant, who in turn was hugging Oyster. - -“Mamma Mine, I hope t’ die!” whooped Johnny. “Oh, don’t show me no -more! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! He never even seen that chair!” - -They went into more paroxysms of mirth, while the bartender smoothed -his vest, placed his bottle back behind the bar and got a broom to -sweep up the broken glassware. He knew that he was forgotten for a -while, at least. - - - - - III—OTHER PEOPLE’S MONEY - - -Tex Alden had left the Oasis and sauntered down the street to where a -weathered sign proclaimed the office of Lee Barnhardt, Attorney at -Law. Barnhardt was a lean, hatchet-faced, keen-eyed sort of person, -possibly forty-five years of age, whose eyes were rather too close -together, ears small and clinging close to his bony head, and chin was -wedge-shaped. His neck was so long and thin that it was the general -opinion in Blue Wells that on Sunday Barnhardt wore a cuff around his -neck instead of a collar. - -Tex Alden and Lee Barnhardt had considerable in common, as Tex was -manager of the X Bar 6 cattle outfit, while Barnhardt was legal -counsel and manager for the same outfit. Tex had always born a fairly -good reputation, except that he was an inveterate gambler. People -admitted that Barnhardt was shrewd, even if they did not like him. - -Barnhardt was busily engaged in cleaning out his old cob pipe when Tex -walked in and sat down, and like all lawyers he kept Tex waiting until -the pipe was cleaned, filled and lighted. Then he turned around on his -creaking swivel-chair and fixed his cold eyes upon Tex. - -“Well?” he managed to say, between puffs. - -“Well, ——!” snorted Tex. “I just finished losing the eight thousand -dollars I got for that shipment to Frisco.” - -Barnhardt’s eyebrows lifted slightly and he sucked heavily on his -extinguished pipe, staring steadily at Tex. Then: - -“You lost it all, eh? Playing poker with Neal?” - -Tex nodded wearily. Barnhardt leaned back in his old chair, squinting -narrowly at the ceiling. - -“That’s a lot of money, Tex,” he said thoughtfully. “It puts you in -pretty bad, don’t yuh think?” - -“Sure. That’s why I came over here, Lee.” - -“Is that so? Thinking, of course, that I can square it for yuh,” -Barnhardt laughed wryly. “It’s quite a job to explain away eight -thousand dollars, Tex. I don’t know why you didn’t bring that check to -me.” - -“They made it out in my name,” said Tex, as if that might mitigate the -fact that he had used eight thousand belonging to the X Bar 6 outfit. - -“That didn’t cause it to belong to you,” reminded Barnhardt. “They can -jail yuh for that, Tex. It’s plain embezzlement. I’ve got to account -for that eight thousand dollars.” - -“How soon, Lee?” - -The lawyer frowned thoughtfully. He knew he could defer the accounting -for a long time, but what good would that do Tex Alden, whose monthly -salary was seventy-five dollars. - -“Got something in sight, Tex?” he asked. - -“Not yet,” Tex studied the toes of his dusty boots. “But yuh never can -tell what might turn up.” - -“I see.” - -Barnhardt relaxed and lighted his pipe. After a few puffs he said— - -“I think the Santa Rita pay-roll comes in tonight.” - -“Thasso?” Tex stared at Barnhardt. “How do yuh know?” - -“Chet Le Moyne rode in a while ago. He always shows up just ahead of -the pay-roll and takes it back to the Santa Rita himself.” - -Chet Le Moyne was paymaster of the Santa Rita mine, which employed -close to three hundred men. The mine was located about twelve miles -from Blue Wells. Le Moyne was a handsome sort of a person, -dark-haired, dark-eyed, athletic, although slender. Like Tex Alden, he -was an inveterate gambler, although not inclined to plunge wildly. - -“I think probably he went out to the Taylor ranch,” offered Barnhardt -casually. “He never does stay very long in town.” - -Tex scowled at his boots, and tried to make himself believe that it -didn’t make any difference to him if Le Moyne went out to see Marion -Taylor. But down in his heart he knew it did—a lot of difference. Paul -Taylor owned a small ranch about two miles south of Blue Wells, and -there was no one to deny that Marion Taylor was the best-looking girl -in that country. - -Even Lee Barnhardt had cast covetous eyes in that direction, but -Marion showed small favor to the thin-faced lawyer. In fact, she had -showed little favor to any of the men, treating them all alike. -Perhaps Tex and Le Moyne had been the most persistent suitors. - -Old Paul Taylor, often known as “The Apostle,” did not favor any -certain one as a son-in-law. They were all welcome to call, as far as -he was concerned. Between himself, his son, a wild-riding, hot-headed -youth, known as “Buck,” and one cowboy, a half-breed Navajo, known as -“Peeler,” they managed to eke out a living. Buck and Peeler were as -wild as the ranges around Blue Wells, and The Apostle was not far -behind, when it came to making the welkin ring. The Apostle was a -typical old-time cattleman, who hated to see civilization crowding -into the ranges. - -Barnhardt studied Tex, while the big cowboy humped in a chair and -studied the floor. Finally Tex lifted his head and looked at -Barnhardt. - -“Just why did yuh tell me about the Santa Rita pay-roll comin’ in -tonight, Lee?” - -“No reason, Tex; just conversation, I reckon. It must run close to -thirty thousand dollars. Le Moyne had one man with him. That train -gets in about nine o’clock. Le Moyne probably will ride straight for -the mine. That’s quite a lump of money, Tex. I hear they always pay -off in gold, because there’s quite a lot of Mexicans working there, -and they like the yellow money.” - -“Uh-huh,” Tex’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Barnhardt. “Thirty -thousand is a lot of money.” - -“It sure is plenty,” nodded Barnhardt. “More than a man could make in -a lifetime out here.” - -Tex got to his feet and rolled a cigaret. - -“Yuh can keep that eight thousand under cover a while, can’tcha, Lee?” - -“For a while, Tex—sure thing.” - -“Thank yuh, Lee. _Adios_.” - -Tex sauntered out and the lawyer looked after him, a crooked smile on -his lips, feeling that he and Tex Alden understood each other -perfectly. He could look from his window and see Tex get his horse at -the livery-stable and ride away. - -The sheriff did not go back to the Oasis Saloon that afternoon. The -whole incident wasn’t quite clear in his mind. He had a lump on his -forehead, where he hit the floor, and one shin was skinned from the -chair, but he wasn’t quite sure just who was to blame for it all. -Anyway, he wasn’t sure that they had tin-canned the minister’s horse -with Louie Sing’s copper can. - -He wished Al Porter, his deputy, were there. Al knew how to get along -with those fellows from the AK. But Al had gone to Encinas that -afternoon to see his girl, and wouldn’t be back until late that night, -even if he were fortunate enough to catch a freight train. Encinas was -twelve miles east of Blue Wells. - -The election of Scotty Olson had been more or less of a joke. There -had been quite a lot of mud-slinging between the Republican and -Democrat candidates, and a bunch of the boys got together and induced -Scotty to run independently. And while the two favorites in the race, -to use a racing parlance, tried to cut each other down in the stretch, -Scotty, hardly knowing what it was all about, won the election. - -He had appointed Al Porter, a former deputy sheriff, to act as his -deputy and mentor, and the office was really run by Al, much to the -amusement of every one concerned, except Scotty, who was satisfied -that he was making a big reputation for himself. - -Oyster Shell, Johnny Grant and Eskimo Swensen continued to make merry -at the Oasis, mostly at the expense of the bartender, who writhed -under punishment but grinned in spite of it, because he owned an -interest in the Oasis, with Neal, and the boys of the AK were good -patrons. - -It was after dark when Johnny Grant decided that it was time to go -back to the ranch. He announced the fact, and his two companions -suddenly found themselves of the same notion. - -Out to the hitch-rack they weaved their erratic way, only to find the -rack empty of horses. Johnny leaned against the end-post and rubbed -his nose, while Oyster walked up and down both sides of the rack, -running one hand along the top-bar. - -“Nossin’ here,” he declared. “’F there’s a horsh at thish rack, I -can’t fin’ him. Whatcha shay, Eskimo?” - -“I shed,” replied Eskimo heavily, “I shed, tha’s queer.” - -“Isn’ it queer?” asked Oyster. “I ask you open and ’bove board, ain’t -it queer? Whazzamatter, Johnny—gone in a tranch?” - -“He’s drunk,” declared Eskimo, trying to slap the top-bar of the rack -with his hand, and hitting his chin instead. - -“And yo’re cold shober,” said Oyster. “Losin’ a horsh makes you so mad -that you bite the hitch-rack. Go ahead and gnaw it f’r me, Eskimo. -Johnny, what-cha think, eh?” - -“I think,” said Johnny thickly, “I think it’s between the sheriff and -the preacher. Shomebody took our horshes.” - -“He’s commencin’ to wake up, Eskimo,” said Oyster. “He’s had a vision, -that’s what he’s had. Oh my, tha’ boy is clever. Let’s have a vote on -which one we kill firsht—sheriff or preacher.” - -“I vote for the sheriff,” declared Eskimo. “We need lossa gospel -’round here. Let’s kill the sheriff firsht. Then when the preacher -preaches the funeral shervice, if he shays a good word for Scotty -Olson, we’ll kill the preacher and let the morals of thish here -country go plumb to ——.” - -“Let’s not kill anybody—yet,” advised Johnny. “Lissen t’ me, will yuh. -Didja ever hear that sayin’ about whom the gods would destroy, they -firsht make awful mad? Didja? Well let’s make Scotty Olson awful mad, -eh?” - -“But we ain’t gods,” reminded Oyster. - -“Tha’s a fact,” admitted Johnny. “We ain’t gods. But,” hopefully, -“mebbe we’ll do until shome better ones come along.” - -“We’re jist as good,” declared Eskimo. “I’m jist as good as any I’ve -ever sheen—prob’ly a lot better. Let’s go ahead and do shome thin’. -Whazza program, Johnny?” - -“First,” said Johnny, “we’ll ask Scotty in a ladylike manner what he -done with our horshes. And I don’t want you pelicans to forget that -you’re as drunk as a pair of boiled owls. C’mon.” - -They weaved across the street. Johnny Grant lost his hat, and after -several minutes’ search, it was discovered that Eskimo was standing on -it. - -“Thirty dollars gone t’ ——!” wailed Johnny. - -“Aw, ——, it ain’t hurt!” snorted Eskimo. “Jist dirty, thasall.” - -“After you wearin’ it on one of yore big feet all over the street? My -——, I can see the moon through it.” - -“Wonnerful!” gasped Oyster. “I tell yuh the boy’s got shecond shight. -Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! There ain’t no moon.” - -They managed to reach the door of the sheriff’s office. A light from -the front window attested to the fact that Scotty Olson was in the -office, and he answered their knock. - -“What do you want?” he asked. Johnny leaned against the door-sill, his -torn and dusty sombrero pulled rakishly over one eye. - -“We want you to shettle a question that’s been botherin’ us, Scotty. -C’n we come in?” - -“All right,” said Scotty grudgingly. - -He stepped aside and the three cowboys came in. They had been in the -office many times, but not in this same mood. - -“My, my, thish is a nice office!” exclaimed Eskimo. “Gotta desk and a -chair and a lot of outlaw’s pitchers on the walls!” - -“What question did you want answered?” asked Scotty nervously. He -suspected them of having ulterior reasons. - -“The question is thish:” said Johnny. “What did you do with our -horshes?” - -“A roan, a bay and a sorrel,” enumerated Oyster. - -The sheriff shook his head. - -“I ain’t seen yore —— horses.” - -“Jist try and remember,” urged Johnny. “Try and recall the fact that -you got mad at us and took ’em away.” - -“Aw-w-w, ——!” snorted Scotty vacantly. “I can’t remember nothin’ of -the kind.” - -“I’ll betcha,” said Oyster seriously, “I’ll betcha he’s got ’em in one -of his cells.” - -“Aw-w-w-w!” Scotty goggled at him. - -“That’s a —— of a thing to say. Put a horse in a cell!” - -“Mind if we look?” queried Johnny. - -“Well, of all the drunken ideas! No, I don’t care if yuh look. ——, yuh -can’t put a horse in a cell!” - -He turned on his heel and led them to the rear of the building, where -a series of three cells had been built in, leaving a corridor down the -center. The doors were heavily barred and fitted with spring locks. -Just now there were no occupants in the Blue Wells jail, and the doors -sagged partly open. Scotty, half-angry, more than half disgusted, -swung the door of the first cell wide open and stepped partly inside, -turning to let the cowboys see for themselves that there were no -horses in the cell, when Eskimo seemed to stumble, flung his weight -against the door, which promptly snapped shut, locking the sheriff in -his own cell. - -“Hey! You —— fool!” yelled Scotty. “Whatcha tryin’ to do, anyway?” - -“Look what you done!” wailed Johnny. “You’ve locked the sheriff in his -own jail. Now, you’ve done it. My, my!” - -“Go and get the keys out of my desk,” ordered the sheriff. “They’re in -the top drawer.” - -The three cowboys trooped obediently out through the office, -extinguished the lamp, closed the door and stood on the edge of the -sidewalk, chuckling with unholy glee. - -“Let’s see if he put our broncs in his stable,” suggested Johnny. But -the sheriff’s stable was empty. They went to the livery-stable and -found it locked. - -“How about visitin’ the preacher?” asked Eskimo. - -“He never done it,” declared Oyster. “That jigger is too timid to go -near a bronc. I’ll betcha that smart sheriff jist turned ’em loose on -us, that’s what he done. We might as well git a room at the hotel, or -walk back to the ranch.” - -“I’ll walk,” said Eskimo. “I stayed one night at that old hotel and -the bedbugs et holes in my boots.” - -“Shall we let the sheriff loose before we go?” asked Oyster. - -“Let ’m alone,” said Johnny. “Somebody will turn him loose after -while, and I don’t want to be here when they do. Eskimo, if I was you, -I’d buy a bottle to take along with us. It’s a long, hard walk.” - -“That’s a pious notion,” declared Eskimo, and they went weaving back -toward the Oasis. - - - - - IV—JIMMY GETS HIS DANDER UP - - -Jim Legg sprawled on a seat in the day-coach and tried to puzzle out -from a time-table just when they would arrive at Blue Wells, mixed -train, both passenger and freight, stopping at every station along the -branch line; sixty miles of starts and stops, and the highest speed -would not exceed twenty miles per hour. - -It had been sweltering hot, and Jim Legg’s once-white collar had -melted to the consistency of a dish-rag. But the shades of night had -brought a cool breeze, and the gruff brakeman had assured him that the -train would probably arrive on time. - -Not that it made much difference to Jim Legg. He had never seen Blue -Wells. To him it was merely a name. He had been forced to leave -Geronimo to the tender mercies of a hard-faced express messenger, and -had seen him tied to a trunk-handle in the express car. - -It suddenly occurred to Jim Legg that he had made no provisions for -feed and water for the dog. It did not occur to him that the messenger -might be human enough to do this for the dog. The engine was whistling -a station call, and Jim Legg resolved to investigate for himself. - -The train clanked to a stop at the little station, and Jim Legg -dropped off the steps, making his way up to the baggage car, where the -messenger and a brakeman were unloading several packages. Jim noticed -that the weather-beaten sign on the front of the depot showed it to be -Encinas, the town where the deputy sheriff’s sweetheart lived. - -The brakeman went on toward the engine and Jim Legg got into the -express car. Geronimo’s tie-rope had been shifted to a trunk farther -up the aisle, and the messenger stood just beyond him, looking over a -sheaf of way-bills by the dim light of a lantern. - -The train jerked ahead, but Jim Legg did not notice that they were -traveling again, until the train had gained considerable speed. The -messenger turned and came back toward the door, not noticing in the -dim light that he had a new passenger. The dog reared up and put his -paws on the messenger’s overall-clad leg. - -But only for a moment. The messenger whirled around and kicked the dog -back against the trunk. - -“Keep off me, —— yuh!” he rasped. - -The dog rolled over, but came to his feet, fangs bared. - -“Try to bite me, will yuh?” snarled the messenger. - -He glanced around for some sort of a weapon, evidently not caring to -get within kicking distance of the dog again, when Jim Legg spoke -mildly— - -“You really shouldn’t do that.” - -The messenger whirled around and stared at Jim Legg. He did not -recognize him as the man who had put the dog in the car at the main -line. - -“What in —— are you doin’ in my car?” he demanded. - -Jim Legg shifted uneasily. - -“Well, I—I’m watching you mistreat a dumb brute, it seems. That’s my -dog, and I didn’t put him on here to be kicked.” - -“Your dog, eh?” - -The messenger came closer. He recognized Jim now. - -“Got on at Encinas, eh?” - -“I think that was the name. The train started, and I had no chance to -get back to the coach, you see.” - -“Yeah, I see. But that don’t make any difference to me. Nobody is -allowed to ride in here. You’ll have to get off at Blue Wells.” - -“Is that the next station?” - -“Yeah. We’ll be there in a few minutes.” He looked back at the dog. -“You hadn’t ought to ship a dog like that. He’s no —— earthly good, -and he tried to bite me just now.” - -“You’re a liar!” - -It was the first time Jim Legg had ever said that to any one, and this -time he had said it without a thought of the consequences. It seemed -the natural thing to say. - -“I’m a liar, eh?” - -The messenger would weigh close to two hundred pounds and was as hard -as nails. - -“Yes, sir,” declared Jim Legg. “If you say that Geronimo tried to bite -you just now, you’re a liar. I could report you for kicking that dog.” - -“Oh, you could, could yuh? Like ——! The company ain’t responsible for -dogs. You never checked him. He’s just ridin’ here, because I was good -enough to take him in; just a —— dead-head.” - -“Good enough, eh?” - -Jim Legg took off his glasses, put them in a case and tucked them in -his pocket. The messenger came closer. The train was whistling, and -they felt the slight jerk as the brakes were applied. - -“I saw you kick that dog,” said Jim calmly, although his heart was -hammering against his ribs. “No man would do a thing like that. It was -a dirty trick—and then you try to lie out of it.” - -“Why, you little four-eyed pup!” snorted the messenger. “I’ll make you -take that back. Anyway, you’ve got no right in this car, and I’m -justified in throwin’ yuh off.” - -Jim Legg threw out his hands in protest to any such an action. He had -never fought anybody, knew nothing of self-defense. But the messenger -evidently mistook Jim’s attitude, and swung a right-hand smash at his -head. And Jim’s clumsy attempt to duck the blow caused the messenger -to crash his knuckles against the top of Jim’s head. The impact of the -fist sent Jim reeling back against a pile of trunks, dazed, -bewildered, while the messenger, his right hand all but useless, swore -vitriolically and headed for Jim again. - -But the force of the blow had stirred something in the small man’s -brain; the fighting instinct, perhaps. And in another moment they were -locked together in the center of the car. The train was lurching to a -stop, but they did not know it. - -The messenger’s arms were locked around Jim’s body, while Jim’s legs -were wrapped around those of the messenger, which caused them to fall -heavily, struggling, making queer sounds, while Geronimo, reared the -full length of his rope, made an unearthly din of barks, whines and -growls, as he fought to get into the mélée. - -The train yanked ahead, going faster this time. Jim managed to get his -right hand free and to get his fingers around the messenger’s ear, -trying ineffectually to bounce the messenger’s head on the hard floor. - -His efforts, while hardly successful, caused the messenger to roll -over on top of Jim, who clung to the ear and managed to roll on top -again. They were getting perilously near the wide door. Suddenly the -messenger loosened one hand and began a series of short body punches -against Jim’s ribs, causing him to relax his hold on the ear. It also -forced Jim to slacken his scissor hold on the messenger’s legs. - -Quickly the messenger doubled up his legs, forcing his knees into -Jim’s middle, hurling him over and sidewise. But the shift had given -Jim a chance to get both arms around the messenger’s neck, and when -Jim swung over and felt himself dropping into space, he took the -messenger right along with him. - -They landed with a crash on the edge of a cut, rolled slowly through a -patch of brush, and came to rest at the bottom of the cut. Fortunately -Jim was uppermost at the finish. The breath had all been knocked from -his body, and he was bruised from heels to hair. - -He separated himself from his former antagonist, and pumped some air -into his aching lungs. The train was gone. Jim looked up at the -star-specked Arizona sky and wondered what it was all about. It -suddenly struck him funny and he laughed, a queer little, creaky -laugh. It sounded like a few notes from a wheezy old accordion he had -heard a blind man playing in San Francisco. San Francisco and the -Mellon Company seemed a long way off just now. - -He crawled to the track level. There was no sign of the train. -Everything was very still, except the dull hum of the telegraph wires -along the right-of-way fence. Then the messenger began swearing, -wondering aloud what was the matter. Jim Legg got to his feet and -filled his lungs with the good desert air. He looked back toward the -cut where he had left his opponent. - -“Shut up!” he yelled. “You got whipped and that’s all there is to it.” - -And then Jim Legg guessed which way was Blue Wells, and started -limping along the track. The stopping and starting of the train -between stations meant nothing to Jim Legg. He did not suspect that -the first stop had been because a red lantern had been placed in the -middle of the track near the Broken Cañon trestle, thereby stopping -the train, and that just now three masked men were smashing through -the safe, which contained the Santa Rita pay-roll. There, three men -had cut the express car, forced the engineer to drive his engine to -within about two miles of Blue Wells, where they stopped him, and -escorted both engineer and fireman back to the express car. - -The absence of the messenger bothered them, because they were afraid -he had suspected a hold-up and had run away, looking for help. At any -rate, they went about their business in a workmanlike manner, and a -few minutes after the stop they had exploded enough dynamite to force -the safe to give up its golden treasure. - -Quickly they removed the two canvas sacks. One of the men stepped to -the doorway. Somewhere a voice was singing. The road from Blue Wells -to the AK ranch paralleled the railroad at this point. - -“Come on,” said the man at the door. - -Swiftly they dropped out of the car, leaving the engineer and fireman -alone. A lantern on a trunk illuminated the car. Suddenly the engineer -ran across the car and picked up the messenger’s sawed-off Winchester -shotgun, which had fallen behind a trunk during the fight between the -messenger and Jim Legg. - -He pumped in a cartridge and sprang to the door. Just out beyond the -right-of-way fence he could see three shadowy figures, which were -moving. Then he threw up the shotgun and the express car fairly jarred -from the report of the heavy buckshot load. - -The distance was great enough to give the charge of buckshot a chance -to spread to a maximum degree, and none of the leaden pellets struck -the mark. But just the same the three shadowy figures became prone -objects. - -Again came the long spurt of orange flame from the door of the express -car, and more buckshot whined through the weeds. - -“What kinda —— whisky was that yuh bought?” queried the voice of -Johnny Grant from among the weeds. - -“Well, if you think I’m goin’ t’ let any train crew heave buckshot at -me, yo’re crazy,” declared Eskimo Swensen, and proceeded to shoot at -the glow from the express car door. - -“H’rah f’r us!” whooped Oyster, and unlimbered two shots from his -six-shooter. His aim was a bit uncertain and it is doubtful if either -bullet even hit the car. - -Wham! Skee-e-e-e-e! Another handful of buckshot mowed the grass. Three -six-shooters blazed back at the flash of the shotgun, and their owners -shifted locations as fast as possible, because those last buckshot -came too close for comfort. - -Then came a lull. In fact the shooting ceased entirely. The three men -in the grass saw the light go out in the car. There was no noise, -except the panting of the engine, its headlight cutting a pathway of -silver across the Arizona hills. Minute after minute passed. It was -too dark to see an object against the car or engine, and the three men -in the grass did not see the engineer and fireman crawl along to the -engine and sneak into the cab. - -“Where’s that —— murderer with the riot-gun?” queried Eskimo Swensen. -He was anxious to continue the battle. - -“Sh-h-h-h-h!” cautioned Johnny. “Somebody comin’.” - -They could see the vague bulk of a man coming along the track. Then it -passed the end of the express car, blending in with it. The three -cowboys could hear the crunch of gravel, as the newcomer walked along -the car, and they heard him climb inside. Came the tiny glow of a -match, the snappy bark of a dog. A few moments later came the thud of -two bodies hitting the gravel. - -“I whipped him, Geronimo,” they heard a voice say. - -“My ——!” snorted Eskimo. “I thought Geronimo was dead or in jail.” - -Then the engine awoke and the part of a train started backing down the -track, but there was no more shooting. Once away from that immediate -spot the engineer put on more power, and went roaring back toward -where they had cut loose from the rest of the train. - -The three cowboys sat up in the grass and watched the dim figures of a -man and a dog, heading toward Blue Wells, while from far down the -railroad came the shrill whistle of the locomotive. - -Johnny Grant got to his feet, and was joined by Eskimo and Oyster. The -shooting had sobered them considerably, and when Eskimo produced the -bottle Johnny shoved it aside. - -“Aw, to —— with the stuff!” he said. “I’ve been seein’ too many things -already. Let’s go home before we get killed for bein’ on earth.” - -“I dunno,” said Eskimo, after a deep pull at the bottle. “It seems -like anythin’ is liable to happen around here, but I never expected to -be ambushed by a danged train.” - -They crawled back through the barbed-wire right-of-way fence, and -headed for home, too muddled to do much wondering what it was all -about. - -The train passed Jim Legg before he reached Blue Wells, and he got -there just after the announcement of the hold-up. A crowd had gathered -at the depot, and Jim Legg heard some one saying that about thirty -thousand had been stolen. - -He heard some one question Chet Le Moyne, who admitted that the Santa -Rita pay-roll had been on the train. Men had gone to notify the -sheriff. Jim Legg did not realize that they were speaking about the -train he had fell out of, even when the disheveled express messenger -made his appearance. He had been picked up along the track. - -The engine crew were offering all the information they had to -interested listeners. - -“There were three men,” said the engineer. - -“Three that you saw,” amended the messenger, who was nursing a black -eye, several facial bruises and a bad limp. “The fourth one tangled -with me in the car. That’s how the door happened to be open. He got on -at Encinas. I ordered him off the car and he tangled with me. In the -fight we both fell off. But I sure gave him enough to make him -remember me.” - -“Was he masked?” some one asked. - -“Masked? No.” - -“What kind of a lookin’ geezer?” - -“Great big son-of-a-gun. It was kinda dark in the car, and I didn’t -see his face very plain. I never suspected that he might be a stick-up -man, or I’d have took a shot at him, but it all happened so quick that -I didn’t have time. He tried to pull his gun, but I blocked it, and we -sure pulled some scrap.” - -Jim Legg kept in the background, wondering at the coincidence. Two -scraps in express cars in the same evening. - -“And we pretty near got ’em, even at that,” said the fireman. “They -jumped out of the car, leavin’ me and Frank in there. Frank got the -messenger’s shotgun and sure sprayed ’em good and plenty. - -“But they were tough eggs, and stopped to do battle. You can see where -their bullets hit the car. I think we hit some of ’em. But one of -their bullets split the slide jigger on the pump-gun; so we decided to -quit the battle.” - -Two men came panting into the crowd. “We can’t find the sheriff,” they -announced. “His horses are gone from his stable; so he must be out of -town.” - -“Aw, he couldn’t find the hole in a doughnut, anyway,” said one of the -men. - -“And his deputy is at Encinas,” added one of the men who had gone -after the sheriff. “We found that out at the Oasis.” - -“Anyway, there’s no use chasin’ hold-up men at night,” said Le Moyne. -“Nobody knows which way they went. They probably had their horses -planted near where the safe was busted, and by now they’re miles away. -What I’d like to know is this: Who in —— knew that the pay-roll was -comin’ in tonight?” - -No one seemed to know the answer. Jim Legg moved in beside a man and -asked him where the hold-up had taken place. - -“The train that jist came in from Encinas,” said the man. - -“This last one?” - -“——, there’s only one a day, stranger.” - -Jim Legg turned away, leading Geronimo on a short piece of rope, and -headed up the street, looking for a hotel. - -“That messenger is the first liar I ever appreciated,” he told the -dog. “I’m a great big son-of-a-gun, I am, and I tried to pull a gun. -I’ll bet Ananias turned over in his grave tonight.” - -They were just passing the front of Louie Sing’s restaurant when a dog -shot out of the alley, followed by an empty can and a volley of -Chinese expletives. It was evident that a stray dog had been trying to -steal something from the restaurant kitchen. - -As quick as a flash Geronimo tore the rope from Jim’s hand, and was -hot on the trail of the departing dog. They disappeared in the dark, -leaving Jim Legg staring after them. He waited for several minutes, -but the dog did not appear. Then he went on to the one-story adobe -hotel, where he secured a room. Afterward he went back to the street, -and for the first time he realized that his valise was still on that -train. - -He decided to try and recover it the next day. But there was no sign -of Geronimo; so Jim Legg finally went back to the hotel, hoping that -the dog would return and be in evidence the next day. Jim was still a -little sore from his battle in the express car, although his face and -hands did not show any signs of the conflict. But he found that his -body contained plenty of black-and-blue spots, and in places he had -lost considerable skin. - -But he ignored them, yawned widely and fairly fell into his blankets. -Mellon & Company seemed a million miles away, and years and years ago. - - - - - V—PAUL THE APOSTLE - - -The Taylor ranch, by its brand name the Double Bar 8, was one of the -old-time ranches. The ranch-house was a two-story adobe, closely -resembling the Hopi in architecture, as the roof of the first story -was used as a porch of the second. The bunk-house was one story, on -the opposite side of the patio, and a semicircle adobe wall, three -feet thick, extended from each end of the bunk-house, and circled the -ranch-house. At the front was a huge gate, arched over with adobe, and -at the two sides of the patio were entrances. In the center of the -patio was an old well. The stables, sheds and corrals were at the rear -of the bunk-house. - -Earlier residents had planted oaks, pepper trees and flowering -eucalyptus, which had grown into big trees, shading the patio, where -grape-vines clambered over the old walls, tangled with the climbing -roses. From afar it appeared an oasis in the gray and purple of the -hills. - -[Illustration: Map of Blue Wells showing nearby mines and ranches.] - -It was the following day after the train robbery. Marion Taylor lifted -a bucket of water from the old well and poured it into a trough, while -she held the lead-rope of a blue-black horse, a tall, rangy animal, a -few degrees better bred than the average range animal. - -The girl was bareheaded, the sleeves of her white waist rolled to her -elbows. She wore a divided skirt of brown material, and a serviceable -pair of tan riding-boots. Her hair was twisted in braids around her -well-shaped head, and held in place with a hammered silver comb set -with turquoise. - -She was of average height and rather slim, with the olive tint from -the desert sun. Her eyes were wide and blue, and her well-shaped lips -parted in a smile, showing a flash of white teeth, when the horse -snorted at the splash of water in the trough. - -“Somebody must ’a’ pinned yore ears back, Spike,” she said softly. “Or -are yuh tryin’ to make me think yo’re a bad horse?” - -The ears of the blue-black snapped ahead, as if he understood, and he -plunged his muzzle into the clear water, drinking gustily, while the -girl drew another bucket and gently poured it into the trough. A burro -came poking in through the patio gate, an old ancient of the Arizona -hills. His right ear had been broken and looped down over his eye, and -his long, scraggly gray hair carried an accumulation of almost -everything that grew and wore spines. - -“Hello, Apollo,” called the girl. The burro lifted his one good ear, -thrust out his whiskered muzzle and sniffed like a pointer dog. Then -he brayed raucously, shook himself violently and came slowly up to the -trough. - -The horse drew aside, being either through drinking or too proud to -drink with such an object. The burro looked at the horse, decided not -to be particular, and proceeded to drink deeply. - -Marion leaned against the curbing and laughed at the burro. That was -the one reason the ancient was tolerated around the ranch—to make them -laugh. His goatlike appetite was a constant provoker of profanity. -Shirts, boots, straps, bedding, anything eatable or uneatable went -into his maw. And as a result the inhabitants of the Double Bar 8 were -careful not to leave anything lying around loose. - -And Apollo was not to be tampered with. In spite of his age he was -quick to resent any familiarity, and to feel the caress of his heels -left nothing to be desired in the way of shocks. At one time Buck -Taylor and Peeler had roped Apollo and clipped him closely, and so -heavy was his coat that he almost died from chills, with the -thermometer at 115 degrees in the shade. - -As Marion turned away from the well and started leading the horse back -toward the gate, three horsemen rode up. They were Apostle Paul, Buck -and Peeler, who had left the ranch the morning previous to search for -Double Bar 8 cattle, which had been reported thirty miles away on the -Yellow Horn mesa. - -Marion continued out of the patio and met them just outside the gate. -With them was a strange dog, which came up to her, acting very -friendly. It was the missing Geronimo. - -“Where did you get the dog?” asked Marion, after greetings had been -exchanged. - -“He picked us up,” smiled her father. “I dunno who owns him. There was -a piece of rope dragging and we took it off, ’cause it was always -gettin’ hung up on somethin’. Friendly cuss, ain’t he.” - -Geronimo danced around, as if he knew what was being said about him. -Apostle Paul Taylor was a tall, skinny, lean-faced man, with a hooked -nose, wide mouth and deep-set gray eyes. His hair was fast turning -gray, and he stooped a trifle. - -Buck Taylor was almost replica of his father, except that he was -bow-legged, had a mop of brown hair, and did not stoop. The -half-breed, Peeler, was heavy-set, deep-chested, typically Indian in -features, and showing little of his white blood. The two Taylors were -dressed in blue calico shirts, overalls, chaps, high-heeled boots and -sombreros. The half-breed’s raiment was practically the same, except -that he wore a faded red shirt, scarlet muffler, and his hat-band was -a riot of colored beads. - -All three men wore belts and holstered guns, and in addition to this -the two Taylors had rifles hung to their saddles. They were dusty, -weary from their long ride. The Apostle Paul dismounted and handed his -reins to Peeler. - -“Did yuh find any stock on the mesa?” asked Marion. - -“About thirty head,” replied her father. “Wild as hawks, too. We -brought ’em in as far as Buzzard Springs. Anythin’ new?” - -“Not a thing, Dad.” - -“You ain’t tried ridin’ Spike, have yuh?” - -Marion shook her head and looked at the blue-black. - -“Then yuh better let Buck or Peeler fork him first. He ain’t been -saddled for three months.” - -“Yeah, and the last time I climbed him he piled me quick,” laughed -Buck. “Let Peeler do it.” - -“After pay-day,” grinned Peeler. “I don’t want to die with money -comin’ to me.” - -“Pshaw, I’ll ride him myself,” said Marion. - -Her father laughed and turned toward the gate when two men rode around -from behind the bunk-house and came up to them. It was Scotty Olson, -the sheriff, and Al Porter, the deputy. Porter was a big man, -dark-featured, with a nose entirely too large for the rest of his -face, and very flat cheekbones. - -“Hyah, Sheriff,” greeted Taylor. “Howdy.” - -The sheriff removed his hat and bowed awkwardly to Marion— - -“Howdy, Miss Taylor.” - -“Hello, Sheriff,” replied the girl. - -Olson rubbed a huge hand across his big mustaches. There was still a -lump on his forehead, where he had bumped himself on the floor in the -Oasis. - -“Just gettin’ in?” queried Porter, glancing at the horses. - -Apostle Paul nodded quickly. - -“Yeah. Been back on Yellow Horn mesa, lookin’ for cattle.” - -“Way up there, eh?” said the sheriff. “Quite a ride.” - -“Went up yesterday,” offered Buck. - -“Uh-huh,” the sheriff eased himself in the saddle. “Then yuh wasn’t -around here last night, eh?” - -“Nope. Why?” - -“Didn’t yuh hear about the hold-up?” - -“Hold-up?” Taylor shook his head. “Where?” - -“Last night,” said Porter, “the train was robbed between Broken Cañon -and Blue Wells. They got the Santa Rita pay-roll.” - -“Well, I’ll be darned!” exclaimed Taylor. “Anybody hurt?” - -“Nope.” - -“They must ’a’ got close to thirty thousand,” said Buck. - -Porter turned quickly. - -“What do you know about it, Buck?” - -Buck stared back at him, his eyes hardening at the implication in the -deputy’s question. - -“I don’t reckon the amount of the Santa Rita pay-roll is any secret, -Porter.” - -“Thasso?” Porter shrugged his shoulders. - -“Yes, that’s so,” Buck dropped his reins and walked over to Porter, -who squinted narrowly at him. - -“I don’t like the way yuh said that, Porter.” - -“The way I said what?” queried Porter. - -“You know what I mean,” declared Buck, angrily. - -“Drop it, Buck,” advised his father, and turned to Olson. - -“How many men in the gang, Scotty?” - -“Three that we know of—possibly a fourth. A man got on the express car -when the train stopped at Encinas, and him and the express messenger -had a fight. They fell out of the door and rolled into the ditch. It -kinda looks as though this feller was one of the gang. Anyway, there -was three that stopped the train, cut off the engine and express car, -and blowed the safe.” - -“Are you just startin’ out after ’em?” asked Buck, squinting at the -sun. “Not very early, it seems to me.” - -“I didn’t know nothin’ about it until this mornin’,” said Porter. “I -came in from Encinas early this mornin’ on a freight, and went to bed. -I got up jist before noon, and they told me about it; so I got the -sheriff and we started out.” - -Apostle Paul turned to the sheriff, whose ears were red. - -“Where were you all this time, Scotty?” - -“He was in jail,” said Porter. - -“In jail?” - -“In my own jail,” said Olson angrily. “Oyster Shell, Eskimo Swensen -and Johnny Grant came over to my office last night. They were drunk, -and insisted that I had stolen their horses. And they wanted to look -in the cells, the —— fools! Jist because they was drunk I let ’em -look, and they accidentally locked me in. - -“I told ’em where to find the keys, but they went on out and never -came back. That’s why nobody could find me last night. I never knowed -there was a hold-up, until Porter showed up this noon. And somebody -turned our horses loose, too. Mebbe it was that drunken bunch from the -AK. Anyway, we’re goin’ over and tell ’em about it, yuh betcha.” - -Marion turned away, shaking with laughter, while her father and the -other two of the Double Bar 8 choked back their laughter. They knew -the gang from the AK very well indeed. But it was no laughing matter -to the two officers. - -“I can arrest them three drunks for interferin’ with an officer,” -declared Olson hotly. “They interfered with the law when they locked -me in. I was badly needed, I tell yuh.” - -“Sure yuh was,” choked Buck. “If they hadn’t locked yuh up you’d ’a’ -had all three of them robbers in jail now.” - -“Mebbe. Anyway, I’d have been on their trail.” - -“Where’d yuh git the new dog?” asked Porter. - -“New dog?” queried Buck. “That one? Huh! We raised him.” - -“Never seen him before.” - -“Lotsa things you never seen before.” - -“Have yuh any clues?” asked Apostle Paul. - -“Clues?” The sheriff wasn’t sure of that word. - -“Yeah—evidence that might lead yuh to the outlaws.” - -“We ain’t had no time yet.” - -“Then what are yuh wastin’ it around here for?” demanded Buck. - -Porter glared at Buck, but did not reply. He disliked this thin-faced -young man, but was just a trifle dubious about starting anything with -him. - -“Well, I s’pose we might as well be goin’ along,” said the sheriff. -“Mebbe we’ll swing around and look in at the AK. I’ve sure got a few -things to say to them fellers.” - -“God be with yuh, brother,” said Apostle Paul piously. “The AK is sure -a good place to make a talk, but when the collection is taken up, -you’ll find small pay for yore work.” - -“We’ll make ’em respect the law!” snapped Porter. - -“Yes, you will,” said Buck. “You better back yore law with an army. -They may love yuh for startin’ trouble with ’em, but they’ll never -respect yuh. My advice to you jiggers would be to let the AK alone. -You’ll never find out who robbed that train if yuh try to shove the -law down the necks of them three.” - -“Well, by ——, I’m runnin’ my office!” snapped Olson hotly. “No drunken -puncher can lock me in my own jail and not hear about it.” - -“Let ’em hear about it, by all means—but in a roundabout way, Scotty. -And please don’t swear any more. Remember, there’s ladies and -gentlemen present.” - -“Ex-cuse me,” grunted Scotty, picking up his reins. “Well, we’ll be -goin’ along, folks. _Adios_.” - -“_Adios, amigo,_” said Apostle Paul. - -Porter glared at Buck, who wrinkled his nose at the big deputy, and -rode away. - -They watched the two riders head east across the little valley, riding -side by side, as if carrying on a conversation. - -“You think they ever find out who rob that train?” asked Peeler. - -Buck snorted and headed for the stable. - -“Find out nothin’, Peeler. Them two jiggers couldn’t find their own -boots. I’d like to be at the AK, when they start their war-talk. That -sure was funny about lockin’ him in his own cell.” - -Peeler did not reply. He stopped at the stable door and rubbed his -chin thoughtfully. Buck looked at him sharply. - -“Whatsa matter, Peeler?” - -“I’m tryin’ to think of one word, Buck.” - -“What kind of a word?” - -Peeler smiled softly. - -“I think it is ‘convenient.’” - -“Convenient? What for?” - -“For the robbers, Buck. That he is locked in his cell.” - -Buck stared at Peeler for a moment. Then— - -“Yea-a-a-a, that might be true. But it’s nothin’ to us; so we will -forget it, eh?” - -“I forget,” smiled Peeler. - -Porter was very angry when he and the sheriff rode away from the -Taylor ranch, heading for the AK. He was inclined to do a lot of -talking, once he was far enough away to conceal his language from the -Taylor family. - -“I tell yuh they know somethin’, Scotty.” - -“Do yuh think so, Al?” - -“Yo’re —— right. Didn’t Buck speak right up and tell how much money -was in that pay-roll? And didn’t he get right on the prod when I -picked him up on it? Don’t tell me that he don’t know somethin’ about -it. They’ve been to Yaller Horn mesa, have they? That’s a —— of a good -excuse.” - -“Do yuh think that’s enough evidence to arrest ’em on, Al?” - -“Well, mebbe not. But it’s sure as —— enough to suspect ’em on. I -wouldn’t trust any of ’em as far as I could throw a bull by the tail. -Buck’s a bad _hombre_, Scotty. The old man is pretty salty, and that -—— breed fits in well with the bunch.” - -Scotty nodded. He was in the habit of agreeing with Porter, which -saved him many an argument. - -“We’ve got to watch ’em,” continued Porter. “They’re slick.” - -“Slick,” agreed Scotty absently. “I’m jist wonderin’ what to say to -them slick-ears at the AK.” - -“Give ’em ——,” advised Porter. “They shore need a good curryin’, -Scotty.” - -“I know they do, Al. But —— it, they won’t listen to reason. I dunno -why they locked me in that jail last night.” - -Porter grinned sarcastically, but sobered suddenly. - -“Say, Scotty, here’s somethin’ to think about. They locked yuh in yore -cell, and in about an hour the train was held up. Does that mean -anythin’ to you?” - -Scotty shook his head. - -“My ——, yo’re dense. Listen:” Porter repeated his statement. “Now do -yuh get it?” - -“You mean—they locked me up and robbed the train?” - -“They locked yuh up—and the train was robbed, wasn’t it?” - -“Yeah, I know that, Al; but they was too drunk.” - -“Acted too drunk, yuh mean.” - -“Well, they acted—say, Al,” the sheriff grinned slowly, “you sure can -see things. I wonder if that ain’t right? But it ain’t enough evidence -to arrest ’em on, is it?” - -“Well, mebbe not enough to arrest ’em on, but it’s enough for us to -suspect ’em real hard, and to keep an eye on ’em, Scotty.” - -“Yo’re sure gittin’ evidence,” applauded the sheriff. “Al, I’d be lost -without yuh. You think faster than I do. I’d prob’ly think of these -things after while, yuh see. And they prob’ly turned our broncs loose; -so’s we couldn’t foller ’em, even if I got loose.” - -“I was jist goin’ to mention that part of it, Scotty. Yuh see how -things work out.” - -“Yeah. You’d make a good sheriff, Al.” - -“Sure. Mebby I will be. Unless somethin’ happens I’ll take a crack at -the office next election.” - -“Will yuh? I dunno what I’ll do. A feller gits kinda ’tached to a job -like this, don’tcha know it? Yo’re prob’ly a better deputy than you’d -ever be a sheriff. A feller has to have certain qualifications to be a -sheriff, and it ain’t as easy as it looks. Buck was kinda sore at yuh, -wasn’t he?” - -“Yeah, and he’ll get smart jist once too often. One of these days I’m -goin’ to bend him plumb shut and rub his nose off agin’ his knee. I’ll -jist stand so much from a _hombre_ like him.” - -“You sure hang on to yore temper well, Al.” - -“Feller’s got to, when he’s a deputy. Yuh can’t go fightin’ every -whippoorwill that wants a fight. It don’t look well, Scotty.” - -The AK ranch was located well away from the hills, and about three -miles southeast of Blue Wells. It was a typical Arizona ranch; the -buildings were part adobe, but more elaborate and larger than those of -the Double Bar 8. There was no patio to the AK, but the group of -buildings were fenced in with barbed wire. - - * * * * * - -The sheriff and deputy rode in through the gate and up to the -ranch-house, where they met old George Bonnette, owner of the outfit. -He was a pudgy little man, almost bald, almost toothless, one cheek -bulged from a huge chew of tobacco. He spat explosively and nodded to -the officers. It was not often that the law came to the AK, and the -old man looked at them curiously. - -“Howdy, George,” said the sheriff. - -“’Lo, Scotty; hyah, Porter,” Bonnette shifted his chew and waited for -them to state their errand. - -“Where’s the boys?” asked Scotty, glancing around. - -“Well,” the old man scratched his head, “I’ve only got three workin’ -here now. T’day is pay-day.” - -“Meanin’ that they’ve gone to town, eh?” - -“Follerin’ the natcheral inclination of cowpunchers, I’d say that’s -where they’ve gone. Whatcha want ’em fer?” - -“Oh, nothin’ much,” Scotty sighed with evident relief. He really -didn’t want them very badly. - -“You heard about the hold-up, didn’t yuh?” asked Porter. - -Bonnette hadn’t. And he grew so interested in Porter’s recital of it -that he bit off two more chews of tobacco during the telling, which -swelled his cheek until one eye was almost closed. - -“Well, the dem cusses!” he said earnestly. “Thirty thousand dollars, -eh. Worth taking eh? Who wouldn’t? Got anythin’ to work on, Scotty?” - -“Well,” said Scotty darkly, “we might have more’n anybody’d think, -George. Did the boys find their horses?” - -“Hm-m-m-m,” the old man scratched his head. “Seems to me I did hear -one of ’em say they walked home, and that their horses was here when -they arrived. Them broncs was raised here at the AK, and they’d head -for home. I didn’t pay much attention, but I did hear Eskimo say that -somebody turned their broncs loose in town last night.” - -“I jist wondered if they got ’em,” said Scotty. - -Bonnette squinted at Scotty, his brows lifted inquiringly. - -“Didja ride all the way out here to find that out?” - -“Not exactly, George. Yuh see, them three jaspers locked me in my own -jail last night. Didja know that?” - -“In yore own jail? No, I didn’t know it, Scotty.” - -“Yeah, they did, George. And I was in there when word came of the -robbery, and didn’t know a thing about it. They’re liable for blockin’ -the law.” - -“Yeah, I s’pose they are. Huh!” Bonnette turned away, choking a -trifle, and when he turned back there were tears in his eyes. - -“We came down here to see about it,” said Porter. “It’s a —— of a -note, when things like that happen, Bonnette. Them three fellers ort -to be run out of the country.” - -“Yea-a-ah?” The old man looked narrowly at Porter. “Why don’t yuh go -ahead and do it, Porter. They’re all of age, yuh know. And there ain’t -a milk drinker in the crowd; so they really wouldn’t suffer if yuh -took ’em away from the cows.” - -“Oh, they ain’t so —— tough,” retorted Porter. “They’re not runnin’ -this country. They’ve kinda had their own way in Blue Wells for a long -time, but now is the time to call a halt. We’re civilized, I’ll tell -yuh that.” - -“Who do yuh mean, Porter?” - -“Well, all of us—ain’t we?” - -“I dunno. Sometimes I wonder if we are. We ain’t savages. We don’t -worship no idols, nor we don’t eat each other. Holdin’ up a train is a -sign of civilization. I dunno about lockin’ a sheriff in his cell. It -sure as —— ain’t old-fashioned, ’cause I never heard of it bein’ done -before.” - -“Well, I don’t care a ——!” snorted the sheriff. “They done it to me, -and I’m sure goin’ to let ’em know that I’m sore about it.” - -“Yo’re probably more interested in that than yuh are in findin’ the -men who held up the train.” - -“Yuh think so, do yuh?” growled Porter. “Well, I’ll tell yuh we’re -plenty interested in that, too. C’mon, Scotty; we’re jist wastin’ time -around here.” - -“You don’t need to get mad at me,” laughed Bonnette. “I never locked -up any sheriffs.” - -“Well, yore men did!” snapped Scotty. - -Bonnette laughed at the sheriff’s red face. - -“I’ll prob’ly fire ’em for not havin’ more respect for the law.” - -“Aw, c’mon,” urged Porter. “T’ —— with ’em; we’ve got work to do.” - -They rode away from the AK, heading back toward Blue Wells, no better -off for their long ride to the AK. - -“I’ve jist been thinkin’ that folks around here don’t show a —— of a -lot of respect for the law,” said Scotty Olson. - -“Well,” growled Porter, “it’s up to us to make ’em. By ——, I’m all -through lettin’ folks make remarks to me. From now on I’m goin’ to -make these smart pelicans set up and salute when the law shows up.” - - - - - VI—THE MAKING OF A COWBOY - - -Jim Legg awoke to a different world from what he had ever seen. Blue -Wells was so typically southwestern, being one long street of one and -two story adobe houses, some of them half-adobe, half-frame. There -were no sidewalks, no lawns, no shrubbery. The fronts of the buildings -were unpainted, and the signs were so scoured from wind and sand that -the letters were barely legible. - -No one seemed to pay any attention to Jim Legg. The town was full of -cattlemen, and the topic of conversation was the train robbery. Jim -Legg listened to the different ideas on the subject, no two of which -were alike. He realized that if he and the express messenger had not -fought and fell out of the car, they would have been in the center of -things. - -And Jim Legg was glad the messenger had lied about the physical -proportions of the man who had attacked him. Jim wondered what had -become of Geronimo, but did not ask any one. And then Jim Legg ran -into the three men from the AK outfit. Their pockets were lined with a -month’s pay, and they were happily inclined toward all humanity. - -Oyster Shell, backed against the Oasis bar, was the first to see Jim -Legg. His eyes opened wide and he spurred Johnny Grant on the calf of -his left leg. - -“My ——, Johnny,” he said softly. “Do m’ eyes deceive me?” - -Johnny looked upon Jim Legg with much the same expression that a -scientist might exhibit upon finding the fossil egg of a dinosaur. - -“Welcome,” said Johnny. “I welcome you to Blue Wells.” - -“How do you do?” smiled Jim. “Nice day, isn’t it?” - -“Yeah,” said Johnny, “We have one like this every thirty days. What -grade of poison does yore stummick stand?” - -Jim Legg had never drank anything more potent than a small glass of -beer, but he knew that he was now in Rome, so he said: - -“Oh, anything you gentlemen are drinking.” - -“Hooch!” exclaimed Eskimo, and the busy bartender sent the bottle -spinning down the bar, followed by four glasses. - -“You want a wash?” asked Johnny, meaning a glass of water or soda. - -Jim Legg glanced at his hands and looked at himself in the back bar. - -“No,” he said finally. “I don’t think so.” - -The three cowpunchers exchanged quick glances. Fate had sent them -something to play with. Eskimo poured out a full glass for their new -playmate, who almost strangled over it. But he got it down. - -“That’s liquor,” declared Johnny, smacking his lips. - -“It’s gug-good,” whispered Jim Legg. - -He cleared his throat and wondered at the warm glow within him. - -“I’m buyin’,” declared Oyster, spinning a dollar on the bar, which got -them four clean glasses. - -Again Jim Legg managed to swallow the liquor, but this time it did not -strangle him. He laughed gleefully at nothing in particular and rested -a hand on Johnny Grant’s shoulder. - -“My name’s Legg,” he told them. “Jim Legg.” - -“That’s quite a name,” agreed Johnny. “My name’s Grant, this one’s -name is Shell, and that Jewish friend of ours there is named Swensen. -We’re Johnny, Oyster and Eskimo, respectably.” - -They all shook hands gravely. - -“If the clerk will furnish us with clean glasses, I’ll make a -purchase,” said Jim Legg solemnly. - -“My ——!” exclaimed Eskimo explosively. - -“Just why?” queried Jim Legg. - -“I thought my belt was comin’ off.” - -They filled their glasses and drank heartily. By this time Jim Legg -seemed to be getting numb, but happily so. The world was bathed in a -rosy glow, and he wanted to sing and dance. - -“Jist what is yore business, Misser Legg?” asked Oyster. - -“I came here,” said Jim, “to be a cowpuncher.” - -Johnny Grant’s foot slipped and he sat down heavily on the bar-rail. - -“That,” said Eskimo owlishly-wise, “is a ambitious thing for to -become. I’ll betcha yuh came to the right place, Jim.” - -“I—I—” Jim hesitated because his tongue did not seem to exactly -function. “I picked thish place at ra-ra-random.” - -“That shounds like a college yell,” said Oyster. - -“You can’t be no cowpuncher in them clothes,” explained Eskimo. -“Never, nos-sir. You look like Sunday. But in the proper clothes you’d -be a dinger.” - -“I intend to dresh the part,” said Jim thickly. “Perhaps I can secure -the proper dresh here in Blue Wells.” - -“Oh, you can,” said Johnny. “We can take you to a place where you can -buy just what yuh need, pervidin’ you’ve got the _dinero_.” - -“Dinero?” - -“Money.” - -“I’ve got five hundred dollars.” - -“My ——!” Johnny took off his hat. - -“And you want to be a cowpuncher—with five hundred dollars!” - -“Isn’t it enough?” - -“Don’ nobody speak for a moment,” begged Oyster. “I want to -conchentrate. I’m about to go into a tranch.” - -“Sh-h-h-h-h!” warned Johnny. “The man is looking into the future.” - -“Is he a medium?” asked Jim Legg, owl-eyed, as he stared at Oyster. - -“Medium ——! He’s rare,” chucked Eskimo. - -“I shee shomethin’ comin’ to a man named Jim Legg,” stated Oyster, his -eyes closed tightly. - -“Yuh see?” applauded Johnny. - -“Yessir,” nodded Jim. “Maybe we better let him alone, while we get me -shome clothes.” - -“He’s comin’ out of it,” announced Eskimo. - -Oyster’s face twitched convulsively and his eyes opened. - -“Where is the haberdasher’s?” asked Jim Legg. - -The three cowboys stared owlishly at each other. - -“Oh, them folks,” Johnny Grant squinted thoughtfully. - -“Must ’a’ been that German fambly that nested in down on the forks of -Rio Creek,” said Eskimo. “They’re gone. Let’s go buy somethin’ to make -a real, regular cowboy out of this here, now, Jimmy Limbs.” - - * * * * * - -The sheriff and deputy came back to Blue Wells in bad humor. They -stabled their horses and went to the office. Scotty Olson leaned -against the doorway and looked across the street at the horses tied at -the Oasis hitch-rack. The three at the far end were from the AK; a -tall roan, a sorrel and a gray. - -Al Porter sagged back in a chair, placed his feet on top of the desk -and drew his sombrero down over his eyes. - -“If I was you I’d go over to the Oasis and have a talk with them AK -scoundrels,” he told Scotty. “By ——, if I was sheriff of this county -I’d shore impress upon ’em that this is a dignified office. I’d make -it dignified, y’betcha.” - -Scotty turned troubled eyes upon his deputy. - -“You would, like ——! You’ll sag jist as quick as anybody, when it -comes to trouble. All the way back from the AK you’ve told me what -you’d do. Talk! Yeah, you can talk, Al. If talkin’ was worth a ——, -you’d be President of the U. S. A.” - -“A-a-a-a-aw, ——!” yawned Porter. - -“Don’t try to pass the buck to me, feller. It ain’t my trouble. If you -want to forgive ’em for lockin’ yuh in a cell—go ahead. It’s none of -my business, anyway. But if yuh want to know what I’d do, I’ll—” - -“I don’t! —— it, Al, I don’t care to hear what you’d do—unless yo’re -willin’ to tell the truth.” - -“All right. We’ll just drop the subject. But if they locked me in a—” - -“They didn’t! —— yuh, Al, I wish they had! I’d throw away the keys and -leave yuh there until yuh quit runnin’ off at the mouth. I’m more -interested in that train robbery than I am in the AK cowpunchers.” - -“Yeah, and you stand a fine chance of catchin’ ’em, Scotty. They’ve -had a danged long start of us by this time.” - -“I s’pose.” - -Scotty leaned back against the door and studied the street. He saw Tex -Alden ride in and tie his horse at the rack beside the three AK -horses. - -“Tex Alden jist rode in,” he said indifferently. - -“Thasso?” It did not seem to interest Porter. - -“Probably came in to lose some more money.” - -“Lost eight thousand to Antelope Neal yesterday,” said Porter. “Wonder -where in —— he got so much money. He don’t own that X Bar 6.” - -“Don’t he?” - -“He sure as —— don’t. It belongs to an Eastern outfit.” - -“Well, I don’t care a ——,” said Scotty. - -He had enough worries of his own to think about. He smoothed his -buffalo-horn mustache and almost wished he weren’t the sheriff of Blue -Wells. - -Tex Alden left his horse and started across the street toward a store, -when Lee Barnhardt called to him from the door of his office. Tex -turned and went over to the door of the lawyer’s office, where -Barnhardt was standing. - -“I just wondered if you wasn’t coming to see me, Tex,” smiled -Barnhardt. - -The big cowboy blinked, wondering just why he should make it a point -to see Barnhardt that day. - -“Why, I dunno,” he faltered. “Hadn’t thought of it, Lee.” - -The lawyer motioned Tex into the office and closed the door. He sat -down at his desk, filled his pipe carefully, scratched a match on the -sole of his shoe, and puffed explosively. Then he sagged back in his -chair and looked at Tex with an approving grin. - -“I’ll give you credit for a clean job, Tex,” he said, lowering his -voice confidentially. “A —— clean job.” - -“Yeah?” Tex scratched his chin. “Just what is it, Lee?” - -“What is it?” The lawyer leaned forward, the smoke curling lazily from -his nostrils. “Oh, now, Tex! We’re friends, you know.” - -“All right,” grinned Tex. “And what am I supposed to say?” - -“It isn’t what you say—it’s what you do. My mouth is shut tight, -except between us, Tex. And don’t forget that I was the one who told -you where to get it.” - -The big cowboy studied Lee Barnhardt, a puzzled frown between his -brows. - -“Go ahead and talk about it, Lee,” he said. - -Barnhardt’s shrewd eyes appraised the foreman of the X Bar 6. He knew -Tex was not a man you could scare or drive. He would have to go easy, -at least until he knew just what Tex meant to do. Then— - -“You owe me eight thousand dollars, Tex,” he said. - -“And a swell chance you’ve got of collectin’ it.” - -“Oh, I dunno, Tex. Anyway, I’ll be satisfied with the eight thousand. -It ought to be more, but I can take the eight thousand with a clear -conscience, because I’m not supposed to know where it comes from.” - -“Would yuh mind repeatin’ that?” asked Tex evenly. - -“No need of that, Tex. You know what I mean. There were two or three -men with you last night. I realize that they have to get their share, -but even at that—well, as I said before, I’ll take the eight thousand -and call it square.” - -Tex got to his feet and walked back to the door, where he turned and -looked at Barnhardt, who had also stood up, leaning across his desk. - -“I reckon you’ve gone loco, Lee,” he said softly. “I dunno what yo’re -talkin’ about—and I don’t reckon you do either.” - -“The ——, I don’t,” rasped the lawyer. “If you think you can cut me out -of that Santa Rita pay-roll, you’re crazy. It was done on my -information, and you’ll come clean with me, or you’ll find just how -high a fee I can charge.” - -Tex blinked at him, a puzzled expression in his eyes. Then he turned -on his heel and left the office, while Barnhardt stopped at the window -and watched Tex walk slowly across the street to the Oasis, where he -stopped and glanced back toward the office, before going into the -saloon. - -Barnhardt was mad. In fact, he was almost mad enough to go to the -sheriff and tell him that Tex Alden knew that the Santa Rita pay-roll -was coming in on that train. But he was not quite mad enough to do -that. There would be plenty of time for that, in case Tex could not be -induced to make a split. - -Barnhardt put on his hat, yanked it down on his head, forcing his ears -to flare out, and headed for the sheriff’s office, intending to find -out what the sheriff had in mind. - -He was nearing the Blue Wells General Merchandise Store entrance, when -four men came out. Three of them were the boys from the AK, but the -fourth one was a stranger. Every article of his apparel shrieked of -newness. - -His sombrero was the biggest they could find in town, and was -surmounted with a silver-studded band. His robin’s-egg-blue shirt was -of flimsy silk, his overalls new; and the creaking bat-wing chaps were -hand-stamped and silver-ornamented. His thin neck was circled with a -scarlet silk muffler, and his feet were encased in the highest-heeled -boots in town. - -Around his waist was a wide yellow cartridge belt, glistening with its -load of cartridges, and the revolver holster was a sample of -leather-working art. He carried a heavy Colt .45 in his hand—or rather -in both hands. James Eaton Legg was in a fair way to become a -cowpuncher. - -Barnhardt stopped and looked at him. It did not require an expert eye -to detect that all four of them were pie-eyed drunk. Barnhardt noticed -that the sheriff was coming up the street from his office. The lawyer -had heard about what had happened to the sheriff, and he wondered just -what the sheriff would have to say to the boys from the AK. - -Eskimo stepped back from Jim Legg, reared back on his heels and looked -the young man over with appraising eyes. - -“Jimmie,” he said thickly, “yo’re a cowboy. Yessir, if you ain’t, I’ve -never seen one. My ——, yuh hurt m’ eyes.” - -“Look at ’m slaunch-wise,” advised Johnny Grant. “My ——, don’t never -take a chance of lookin’ at him square. Ain’t he a work of art? -Whatcha tryin’ to do with that gun?” - -Jim Legg was trying to see how the thing functioned, and it was fully -loaded. It was the first time he had ever handled a six-shooter, and -it interested him. - -“Don’t cock it!” choked Eskimo. “——’s delight! Yeah—that thing yuh -jist pulled back! Don’t touch that thing underneath it! Keep yore -finger off it. I tell yuh! A-a-a-w, Johnny, take it away from him, -can’tcha?” - -“Aw, whazzamatter?” grunted Jim Legg. “I’d like to shee shomebody take -it away from me.” - -“No-o-o-o-o!” wailed Johnny, ducking aside. “Point it in the air, you -cross between a monkey and a Christmas tree!” - -But Jim Legg reeled around on his high-heels, giggling drunkenly, the -big gun in both hands. - -“Don’t do that, you —— fool!” wailed Oyster. “Aw, fer—” - -_Wham!_ The big gun spouted smoke between Johnny Grant and Eskimo, who -promptly fell sidewise, and the bullet tore into the dirt almost under -the feet of the sheriff, who had stopped about fifty feet away. - -The recoil of the gun caused Jim Legg to turn half-way around. He -staggered back on his heels, possibly more frightened than any of the -rest. - -“Whee-e-e-e-e!” he yelled, and his next shot missed Lee Barnhardt by a -full inch. - -“Yee-e-e-e-o-o-ow!” screamed Johnny Grant. “Cowboy blood! Look at the -sheriff!” - -Scotty Olson was galloping back toward his office, his legs working as -fast as possible, his hat clutched tightly in one hand. - -“Look at the lawyer!” yelled Eskimo, and they turned to see Lee -Barnhardt go head first into his office door, like a frightened -gopher, dodging a hawk. - -But Oyster Shell was not paying any attention to the departing sheriff -and lawyer. He wrenched the gun from Jim’s hands and grasped Jim by -the arm. - -“C’mon, you —— fools!” he yelled. “The sheriff don’t know it was an -accident, and we don’t want to lose Jimmy!” - -Realizing that Oyster was right, the other two helped him rush the -bewildered Jim across the street to the hitch-rack. - -“Git on!” snorted Oyster, whirling his gray horse around. “Git in the -saddle, Jim; I’ll ride behind.” - -“I never rode no horsh,” Jim drew back, shaking his head. - -“You never shot at no sheriff before either!” snapped Eskimo. - -He swung Jim Legg up bodily and fairly threw him into the saddle. Jim -managed to grasp the horn in time to prevent himself from going off -the other side. - -The others were mounting in a whirl of dust. Jim felt Oyster swing up -behind him, and then he seemed to lose all sense of direction. The -gray flung down its head and went pitching down the street, trying to -rid itself of the unaccustomed load, while on either side rode Eskimo -and Johnny, yelling at the top of their voices. - -“Pull leather, you ornyment!” yelled Johnny. “Anchor yoreself, son! -You’ll either be a cowpuncher or a corpse!” - -After about ten or twelve lurching bucks, which did not seem to -disturb Oyster to any great extent, the gray’s head came up and they -went out of Blue Wells, like three racers on the stretch. - -Scotty Olson skidded into his office, fell over a chair, and sat -there, his mouth wide open, while Al Porter ran to the door in time to -see the four men cross the street. He turned back to the sheriff. - -“What in —— happened, Scotty?” - -Scotty got to his feet and brushed off his knees. Then he went to the -corner behind his desk and picked up a double-barreled shotgun. -Breaking it open to see whether it was loaded, he limped back to the -doorway in time to see the three horses go pounding out of town in a -flurry of dust. - -“Goin’ duck huntin’?” asked Porter sarcastically. - -Scotty limped back and stood the gun in the corner. - -“By ——, that makes me mad,” he said seriously. “I seen them AK fellers -up by the store; so I goes up there to have a heart-to-heart talk with -’em. But before I get there, one of ’em takes a shot at me and almost -knocked a hole in my right boot. And when I turned around they took -another shot at me.” - -“That don’t sound reasonable,” said Porter. - -“I don’t give a —— how it sounds; I was there, wasn’t I?” - -The shots had attracted some attention, and the sudden exit of the AK -boys made things look suspicious. Scotty and Porter went up the -street, where several men had gathered in front of the store, and were -talking with Lee Barnhardt, who was telling them all about it. - -“I tell you, it was deliberate,” he said. “I saw that cowboy take aim -at me. Why, I heard that bullet sing past my ear, so close that the -air from it staggered me.” - -“Why did he shoot at you, Lee?” asked the storekeeper, Abe Moon, a -tall, serious, tobacco-chewing person. - -“I don’t know. Why, I don’t even know the man.” - -“I never seen him before either,” declared the merchant. “He came in a -while ago with Oyster, Eskimo and Johnny. They were all pretty full, I -think. Anyway, they outfitted this young man with everything. Even -bought a six-gun, and loaded it for him. He left his other clothes, -wrapped up, in the back room.” - -The sheriff moved in closer. - -“Wasn’t it one of the AK boys that done the shootin’, Lee?” - -“No.” - -“The stranger,” said one of the men. “Did yuh hear his name, Abe?” - -“They introduced him to me. Said his name was Legg.” - -“Legg?” queried Barnhardt blankly. He shook his head slowly. “I dunno -anybody by that name.” - -“I don’t either—and he shot at me,” said the sheriff. - -“He’s prob’ly one of them peculiar jiggers that would rather shoot -strangers than acquaintances,” said the merchant dryly. - -“Well, he’s goin’ to hear from me,” declared the sheriff. - -“Write him a letter,” grinned one of the men in the crowd. - -“He was pretty drunk,” offered the merchant. - -“He wasn’t too drunk to shoot straight,” said Scotty. “I’m promisin’ -yuh right now that the next time that AK outfit comes to Blue Wells, -I’m packin’ a riot gun. Blue Wells has stood all it’s ever goin’ to -from that layout. And,” he added, “I don’t care a —— who knows it.” - -Lee Barnhardt turned on his heel and walked back to his office. Chet -Le Moyne and Dug Haley, the man who had come with Le Moyne to guard -the Santa Rita pay-roll, rode in and drew up in front of the store. -Haley was a heavy-set, stolid looking person, with a wispy mustache -and only a faint suggestion of ever having had eyebrows. - -Le Moyne smiled and spoke to the men, but Haley merely nodded. - -“I wanted to see you, Scotty,” said Le Moyne. “Goin’ back to your -office pretty soon?” - -“Right away, Le Moyne.” - -Le Moyne nodded and rode beside the sheriff down to the office, while -Haley tied his horse in front of the store, and went in to make some -purchases. Le Moyne tied his horse and went into the office with the -sheriff. - -“What do you know, Scotty?” asked Le Moyne. - -“Not very much. It kinda looks to me as though they had a big start on -us, Le Moyne.” - -“Have you anythin’ to work on?” - -“I said I didn’t have much,” Scotty wasn’t going to tell Le Moyne of -his suspicions against the Taylors or the AK. - -“Uh-huh,” muttered Le Moyne. “Well, I just wanted to tell you that the -express company will have a man on the job, and the Santa Rita company -will also have an investigator. They’ll be here tonight, and I want -you to help ’em all you can. We’re offering a thousand dollars reward, -and the express company will probably offer somethin’. What was all -this stuff about you bein’ locked in your own jail?” - -The sheriff told Le Moyne of the incident, and the handsome paymaster -could not suppress a laugh. - -“Go ahead and laugh,” sighed the harassed sheriff. “It sounds funny.” - -“But why did they do it, Sheriff?” - -“That’s somethin’ I’m goin’ to try and find out.” - -“Meanin’ what?” - -“Well, it kept me from quick action on that robbery, didn’t it?” - -“It rather looks that way,” admitted Le Moyne. “Well, I’ve got to be -moving along. I just wanted to tell you about the detectives, and I -know you’ll help them all yuh can.” - -Le Moyne left the office and went up to the store, where he joined -Haley. Tex Alden came in to purchase some tobacco. He nodded to Le -Moyne, made his purchases and went out again. There had never been -open enmity between them, nor had they ever been friends. - -“Tex got hit pretty hard the other day,” offered the storekeeper. “Yuh -heard about Antelope Neal takin’ eight thousand away from Tex in a -two-handed poker game, didn’t yuh?” - -“I heard he did,” nodded Le Moyne. “It sounded fishy.” - -“Well, it wasn’t. He lost it all right. What’s new on the pay-roll -robbery?” - -“Not a thing. The express company has a detective on the case, and -we’ve sent for one. They might find out somethin’, but I doubt it. -Those men had a good start, and it’s pretty hard to identify gold -coin. If they’re ever caught, it won’t be through anything developed -around here.” - -“What do yuh think about that feller throwin’ the messenger out of the -car? That sounds funny to me.” - -“It does sound rather queer,” admitted Le Moyne. “But I guess it -happened. The messenger sure looked as though he had been through a -fight. And he wasn’t there when the robbery took place, it seems. -Anyway, the money is gone. We better get the mail, Jud, and head for -the mine.” - -“How much was in that pay-roll?” asked the merchant. - -“Thirty-one thousand and eighty dollars, all in gold. It’ll make -somebody happy, Abe.” - -“Yes—or unhappy, Chet. I don’t reckon any man ever got a lot of -happiness from what he stole. It’s unlucky money.” - - - - - VII—JIMMY WINS HIS SPURS - - -A few short days wrought a great change in Jim Legg. His face had -received its baptism of Arizona sun, and no longer was he the -pale-faced city dweller. His skin was beginning to peel, and as Johnny -Grant said—“He peels off like a package of cigaret papers.” - -His hands were seared from fast-traveling ropes, his silken shirt was -minus half of one sleeve, and had a huge rent down the back. His -ornate sombrero had fallen off in a corral, where a circling remuda -had trampled it into the sand, giving it an antique air. - -And out of self-defense he had quit wearing glasses. Just now he -leaned against the corral fence, trying to roll a cigaret with cramped -fingers. Beside him squatted Johnny Grant, his eyes fixed curiously -upon this young man, whose eyes were filled with determination. - -About fifty feet away from them were Oyster and Eskimo, saddling a -horse. The animal was humped painfully, squirming uneasily under the -pull of the cinch, but fearing to move, because a heavy bandage had -been fastened across its eyes. The two cowboys were talking softly to -each other. - -“This has gone past the funny stage,” Johnny Grant spoke to Jimmy Legg -seriously. “We was jokin’ when we dared yuh to ride Cowcatcher. You -can’t ride him. He ditched Eskimo in four jumps, and Eskimo is the -best there is around here, Jimmy.” - -“I said I’d ride him,” reminded Jimmy Legg. “I haven’t quit yet, have -I?” Johnny Grant shook his head. - -“That’s why I hate to see yuh fork that bronc, Jimmy. I don’t _sabe_ -yuh, kid. You ain’t strong. Yore body ain’t built for the shocks yuh -get in this business. We was raised for this kinda stuff. You ain’t no -youngster. That bronc will jist about flatten yuh for life—and whatsa -use?” - -“Johnny, I want to be a cowboy,” said Jimmy seriously. “It’s something -I can’t explain right now. I appreciate you trying to save me. I’ve -been thrown five times since I came here, and I’m still able to hobble -around.” - -“Yeah, I know. But this is a _horse_. He’s plumb bad. If there’s any -slip in the boys bein’ able to herd him away after he’s spilled yuh, -he might tromp yuh.” - -“But,” Jim Legg spoke softly, “I’ve got confidence in Oyster and -Eskimo. They’ll do their part. If I can ride Cowcatcher, will you -admit that I can ride?” - -Johnny smiled softly. “I’ll admit that yore the best rider in the Blue -Wells country.” - -“All set!” called Eskimo. “Johnny, you pull the blind, after me and -Oyster get all set, will yuh?” - -Johnny held Cowcatcher while Jim Legg mounted. The rough-coated gray -outlaw, which had defied the best riders of the Blue Wells ranges, -stiffened slightly, but did not move. Oyster and Eskimo mounted and -rode in on each side of him, prepared to block the bucker from heading -into obstacles, and to herd him away from the rider, in case of a -spill. - -They did not see the sheriff, deputy and another rider swing around -the corner of the corral and come toward them. - -Jim Legg straightened up in his saddle, grasped the reins tightly and -nodded to Johnny Grant. - -Johnny reached up and grasped the bandage. - -“Pull leather, Jimmy,” he said softly. “Don’t be ashamed to do it. -It’s only fools and contest riders that don’t, when they feel -themselves goin’.” - -But Jim Legg shut his lips tightly and looked straight ahead. He had -asked to ride Cowcatcher, after every half-way bucker on the AK had -thrown him, and he was going to ride him, or get thrown clean. - -Then the bandage was jerked off, and Cowcatcher was moving as he -caught his first flash of sunlight, but not ahead, as they expected. -Veteran of many battles, he hated the horses and riders which crowded -him too closely; so he had whirled free of them, catching them -flat-flooted, headed the wrong way. - -Although Jim Legg was not unseated, he was flung sidewise, and his -right spur hooked wickedly into Cowcatcher’s flank; hooked in while -the outlaw was still in the air, heading for the three riders which -were not over a hundred feet away, just drawing up to witness the -sport. - -There was no chance for Oyster and Eskimo to ride herd on Cowcatcher. -The gray outlaw churned into the dust, fairly screaming with rage, -head down, running like a streak, forgetting to buck, because of that -spur, socked to the full limit of the rowels into his flank. - -Johnny Grant ran toward the corral, trying to see through the cloud of -dust. Jim Legg was still in the same position, hands flung up, as if -fearful of making a mistake and pulling leather. - -The sheriff’s party tried to spur their horses aside, but their -slow-moving mounts failed to move quickly enough. - -Came the crash of impact, the scream of a horse. A man yelled. Eskimo -and Oyster were riding toward them as fast as possible, while Johnny -Grant ran through the dust, trying to see what had happened. - -He saw one horse and rider heading toward the ranch-house, and a -moment later he heard something crash into the corral fence. Two -horses were down. A gust of wind blew the dust aside and he saw Scotty -Olson on his hands and knees about twenty feet away from his horse, -going around and around, like a pup trying to lie down. - -Al Porter was flat on his back just beyond the two horses, which were -trying to get up, and up by the house was the third member of the -sheriff’s party, trying to recover his reins, which he had dropped. - -And there was Cowcatcher, standing in an angle of the corral fence, -head hanging down, a most dejected-looking outlaw, while still on his -back was Jimmy Legg, his hands resting on the saddle-horn, apparently -oblivious to everything. - -He slowly climbed down and staggered toward Johnny Grant, his lips -parting in a foolish smile, as he whispered— - -“My ——, wasn’t that a wreck!” - -Oyster and Eskimo had helped Al Porter to his feet, and he was -clinging to them, puffing heavily. The sheriff managed to get up -without further difficulty, and they waited for him to recover his -speech. The two horses scrambled to their feet and moved toward the -ranch-house, still frightened. - -The sheriff was mad; so much so, in fact, that he almost yanked one -side of his mustache off, trying to find words with which to express -his feelings. - -“Yuh know, Sheriff,” said Johnny Grant, anticipating the sheriff’s -coming flood of profanity, “you know it was an accident.” - -“Yea-a-a-huh?” blurted the sheriff. - -“Wh-wh-who was ridin’ that —— bub-bucker?” stammered Al Porter. - -Johnny looked around at Jim Legg, who was still a trifle dazed over it -all. Johnny grasped him by the arm and turned to the deputy. - -“This is Jimmy Legg, the only man that ever stayed on Cowcatcher.” - -“I don’t give a ——!” roared the sheriff. “Every time I get in sight of -you fellers, somethin’ happens. By ——, I’m sick and tired of it! Do -yuh hear me?” - -“Louder and more profane,” begged Eskimo, cupping one hand beside his -ear. - -“A-a-a-aw, shut up!” The sheriff was too mad to say anything more. - -The stranger had ridden up closer to them, and was listening with an -amused smile. He was a well-dressed, middle-aged sort of person, -rather hard-faced. - -“I got out of that pretty lucky,” he said, “I happened to be just -outside the crash.” - -“Well, I didn’t,” said Porter ruefully. “Any old time there’s a -crash—I’m in it. Boys,” he turned to Johnny Grant, “this is Mr. Wade, -the detective for the express company.” - -The boys of the AK looked Wade over critically, but the keen scrutiny -of these sons of the range did not embarrass Wade. He was what is know -as “hard-boiled.” - -“Hyah,” nodded Johnny Grant. “What do yuh know?” - -“Not very much,” admitted Wade. “What do you know?” - - “I know m’ head, - I know m’ feet, - I know you’ll soon - Stand up to eat.” - -Oyster Shell chanted it softly, noticing that the detective was -sitting rather sidewise in the saddle. Wade grinned widely. - -“I guess that’s right,” he said. “I’m not used to riding.” - -“You workin’ on that train robbery?” asked Eskimo. - -“Yes, I’m supposed to be,” he turned and looked at Jimmy Legg, who was -still leaning against Johnny Grant. “They tell me you’re a stranger -around here, Mr. Legg.” - -“I—I’ve been here a while,” stammered Jimmy Legg. - -“Uh-huh,” nodded the sheriff, breaking in on the detective. “You -showed up the night of the robbery, didn’t yuh?” - -“He did not,” said Johnny Grant quickly, “he was here the day before.” - -“Here at the AK?” queried Porter. - -“Yeah,” defiantly. - -“That’s funny,” smiled Porter. “We just met George Bonnette in Blue -Wells, and he said you came here to the ranch the day after the -hold-up. And that yuh wasn’t even hired yet.” - -“And that none of the boys knew yuh, until they met yuh that day in -Blue Wells,” added Scotty Olson. “Yuh bought all yore clothes there in -Blue Wells, and you —— near killed me and Lee Barnhardt, because yuh -acted like yuh didn’t know nothin’ about a six-gun. And yuh had plenty -of money to buy anythin’ yuh wanted.” - -Johnny Grant, caught in a lie, did not back up an inch. He stepped in -front of Jimmy Legg and glared at the sheriff. - -“Well, what if he did?” demanded Johnny. - -“It’s nothing to quarrel about,” interposed the detective. “I merely -wanted to know when, how and why he came to Blue Wells. He’s a -stranger around here, it seems.” - -“And if he is—what about it?” asked Eskimo. “There’s no law against a -stranger comin’ here, is there?” - -“Not at all,” smiled the detective. “This man does not fit the -description of any of the robbers, but we can’t afford to miss any -lead that might set us on the right track. There’s a man and a dog to -be accounted for. - -“It seems that this man shipped his dog in the express car. We have a -fairly accurate description of the dog, but not of the man. The -express messenger fought with a man who got on his car at Encinas. -They fell out of the car, while the train was in motion. - -“This dog was on the car at that time, because the engineer and -fireman saw him when the three robbers led them back to the car. The -dog was there when the engineer got the messenger’s shotgun and -started battle with the three robbers. - -“A few minutes later the engine crew sneaked back to their engine to -escape the bullets of the bandits. The fireman says he thought he -heard a man walk past the engine, just before they started back to -pick up the rest of the train, but he is not sure. At any rate, the -dog was missing when the train came to Blue Wells. - -“Our theory is that the dog was merely a blind to let the man into the -car at Encinas. It gave the robbers an inside man, in case the -messenger might refuse to open the door. Of course they could dynamite -the door, but that takes time. Perhaps the inside man did not expect -the messenger to put up a battle, and that the falling out of the -express car was an unexpected incident. - -“The messenger states that the man tried to pull a gun, which -strengthens the theory of the fourth bandit. It is just barely -possible that this dog might be identified; so the owner took a -chance, sneaked back to the hold-up and secured the dog. This would -make it appear that they felt it necessary to have the dog in their -possession. That dog was in the car when the engineer and fireman went -back to the engine. When the train arrived at Blue Wells, the dog was -gone.” - -“Which don’t prove anythin’,” said Johnny Grant. “When the train was -robbed there were three masked men on the car, and when the train got -to Blue Wells there wasn’t a —— masked man on it.” - -The detective laughed. - -“That’s true. But it doesn’t explain when and how Mr. Legg came to -Blue Wells.” - -“I walked,” declared Jimmy Legg bravely. “The train passed me.” - -“Where?” asked the sheriff. - -“I don’t know. It was dark, and I’m not familiar with this country. I -got a room at a hotel that night.” - -“When did you hear that there had been a hold-up?” - -“I heard them talking about it the next day,” said Jimmy Legg -truthfully. - -He did not think it necessary to tell them he had also heard it the -night before. - -“I don’t think he knows anything about it,” said the sheriff. “He -don’t fit the description of any one of the robbers, and it’s a cinch -he ain’t the big geezer that fought the messenger.” - -“What kind of a dog was it?” asked Oyster. - -“No special breed,” replied the detective. “It was of medium size, -yellowish-red, and had one black eye. At least that’s the description -which was given to me.” - -A few minutes later the three officers rode away, and the cowboys -turned their attention to Cowcatcher, the gray outlaw, which was still -beside the corral fence. The collision with the other two horses had -wrenched its right shoulder, which accounted for its not going any -farther. - -They took off the saddle and turned it loose. The boys were loud in -their praise of Jimmy’s ability as a rider. The marvel of it all was -the fact that Jim had stayed with the horse. - -“If he knowed anythin’ about ridin’, he’d ’a’ been killed,” Eskimo -told Johnny a few minutes later, after Jim had gone into the -bunk-house. “He had the luck of a drunk. I’m glad it happened -thataway, instead of havin’ to pick him up on a shovel.” - -“Sure,” grinned Johnny, and then confidentially. “Eskimo, I don’t -_sabe_ that feller. Remember when them fellers were shootin’ at us -from the express car? Remember the feller we seen, who comes along the -track and gets into the car?” - -“Yeah, I remember, Johnny. But I was too drunk to remember much more -than that.” - -“I wasn’t as sober as a judge myself, Eskimo. But I’ll be danged if it -was a big man. Do yuh remember somethin’ about somebody named -Geronimo?” - -“That’s right, Johnny! I wonder if it was the man’s name, or the -dog’s.” - -“And that man headed for Blue Wells, Eskimo.” - -Eskimo nodded seriously. - -“That’s right. By golly, don’tcha know,” Eskimo scratched his head -thoughtfully, “I’m wonderin’ what our little friend knows about that -hold-up.” - -“And why he wants to be a cowboy. Anyway,” Johnny grinned widely, “I’m -for him. He’s got guts. If the Old Man will hire him, we’ll make a -puncher out of him.” - -Jimmy Legg was thanking his stars that Geronimo had deserted him. He -was stiff and sore from his efforts to learn the cattle business all -in a few days, and he did not realize that the boys had been trying to -make him quit. He had been thrown from bucking horses, until it seemed -to him that ranch life consisted of dull thuds. - -Because he could not rope from a horse the boys had let him work from -the ground during a day’s calf-branding, and his hands were seared so -badly he could hardly shut them. He had managed to make enough good -casts to encourage him, and he had spent hours alone in the corral, -throwing loops at a snubbing post. - -But his unfailing good-humor and earnest endeavor had caused the boys -to go easier than they would have had he not been so foolishly -innocent. George Bonnette had watched him, but said nothing. He was -not running a school for making cowpunchers, but decided that Jimmy -Legg was earning his board and keep. - -Jimmy had decided to ride to Blue Wells that afternoon, but after a -nap, which left him stiff and sore, he decided to saddle a horse and -go for a ride into the hills. The other boys had ridden away before -Jimmy awoke; so he saddled the horse alone for the first time. It was -a fairly well broken roan mare, and he had little difficulty. He -buckled on his gun and rode away. - -Although the hills were fairly open, Jimmy watched his landmarks -carefully. He realized that the hills and dales looked pretty much -alike, and it might be difficult for him to hit a straight line back -to the ranch. - -A coyote crossed in front of him, stopped long enough to get a good -look, and went on. Jimmy did not realize that it was a wild animal. A -flock of blue quail whirred up in front of the horse and went -careening down across a brushy draw. Something told him that these -were game birds, and he wondered whether they were prairie chickens. -He had heard of them. - -He wasted several cigaret papers, trying to master the art of rolling -a cigaret on a moving horse. He did not in the least resemble the -James Eaton Legg, who had slid off his high stool in Mellon & -Company’s office a short time before. His face was just as thin, but -there was none of the office pallor. He was, as Eskimo declared, -“burnt to a darned cinder.” - -His hands were red, his lower lip cracked. And he had quit wearing -glasses. It seemed to him that they were too indelibly stamped with -his former occupation. He squinted badly in the bright sun, but his -vision was all right. His ornate cowboy garb was no longer ornate, and -to the casual eye he would have appeared about the same as the rest of -the range riders. - -And, to his great delight, he was picking up a smattering of range -lingo, a few well-chosen cuss words, and he could draw his six-shooter -out of the holster without shooting it accidentally. He had realized -later how close he had been to killing two men, and had promised -himself that when he went to town with the boys he would leave his gun -at the ranch. - -He rode into a well defined cattle-trail and managed to light his -cigaret. Since leaving the ranch he had ridden at a walk, but now he -spurred his horse into a gallop. It gave him a thrill to ride alone; -to know that critical eyes were not watching his riding ability. The -mare was willing to run, but he curbed her slightly. He tried to -remember a song that Eskimo sang, but the words escaped him. - -In his reckless abandon he stood up in his stirrups, as he had seen -Johnny Grant do many times, whipped off his sombrero and slapped the -mare across the rump. - -The next thing he realized was that the mare’s ears had disappeared -with a terrible lurch, and that he was again flying through space. He -struck sitting down in the sand, and skidded along for several feet -before stopping. He was badly jarred, but unhurt. His sombrero sailed -into the brush, and the mare kept right on going for a hundred feet or -so, where she whirled around, cut across a little ridge and went back -toward the AK. - -“That was an awful fool thing to do.” - -The voice seemed to come from nowhere. Jimmy Legg stretched his neck -and looked around. Standing in the trail, just a few feet beyond him -was a girl—Marion Taylor. Jimmy Legg shut one eye and considered her -gravely. He was sure he was mistaken, and wondered whether this could -be a mirage. Oyster had told him of many mirages in that country, but -he had never mentioned one of a pretty girl, who could talk. - -“What was a fool thing?” asked Jimmy. - -“Slappin’ a horse, and gettin’ throwed off,” she replied. - -Jimmy got to his feet, braced his legs and stared at her. - -“I dunno just what did happen,” he confessed foolishly. - -Marion eyed him gravely, and he thought she was the prettiest girl he -had ever seen. - -“You must be the new man at the AK,” she said. - -“Yes ma’am, I’m the new cowpuncher.” - -“Cowpuncher?” - -“Well, yea-a-ah,” he tried to imitate Johnny Grant. - -The girl laughed. - -“I’m James Eat—Jimmy Legg,” he stammered. - -“I am Marion Taylor,” she said, smiling. “We own the Double Bar 8.” - -“Oh, yes.” - -They considered each other silently for a while. Jimmy glanced around. - -“Where’s your horse, Miss Taylor?” - -She colored slightly. - -“Got away from me. Spike hates snakes, you see. We found a big -rattler, and I got off to shoot it. I didn’t want to shoot off Spike, -because he hates a gun; so I got off, and when I shot the rattler, -Spike yanked away.” - -Jimmy nodded. - -“We’ve both lost our horses, it seems. You see, I don’t know anything -about snakes.” - -“No? You know a rattler when you see one, don’t you?” - -“No, I’m sure I wouldn’t.” - -“Then you better walk carefully, because we’ve got plenty of them -around here. You’ll probably see one on your way back to the AK.” - -“Possibly,” said Jimmy gravely. “But I’m not going back—not now. You -see, I’m going to take you home first.” - -“Oh, no,” Marion smiled shortly. “It’s only about three miles, you -see. I don’t mind the walk.” - -“Well, I’m goin’ along,” declared Jimmy. “You might get bit by a -snake, or—or—” - -Marion smiled with amusement. - -“Do you think you could protect me from a rattler, Mr. Legg?” - -“I dunno,” confessed Jimmy. - -He glanced at the Colt, which swung from her hip. - -“Can you hit anything with that?” - -“Sometimes. Why?” - -“I was just wondering.” - -“Can you shoot?” she asked. - -“Yea-a-a-ah, sure,” solemnly. Then he laughed outright. “I almost -killed the sheriff and a prominent attorney, I believe. It—it went off -when I wasn’t looking, you see.” - -“I heard about it.” - -They both laughed. - -“Why not walk to the AK?” asked Marion. “It’s a lot nearer than the -Double Bar 8. We—I could get a horse there.” - -Jimmy shook his head quickly. - -“Everybody is away, and the only horse there is one they call -Cowcatcher.” - -“Cowcatcher!” exclaimed Marion. “I’m sure I don’t want to ride him.” - -“You couldn’t, anyway. I rode him today, and he ran rather wild, it -seems. We knocked the horses from under the sheriff and the deputy, -and ran into the corral fence, where Cowcatcher hurt his shoulder.” - -Marion looked at him in amazement. She knew the reputation of that -outlaw bucker. - -“Do you mean to say that you rode Cowcatcher?” - -“Yes, ma’am.” - -“And were you on him when he quit?” - -“Oh, yes,” innocently. “He’s not very tame, is he?” Jimmy laughed -softly. “It was lots of fun.” - -“Lots of fun?” Marion bit her lip and stared at this strange young -man, whose language and actions did not brand him as a man of the -ranges, and yet who had ridden the worst horse in the Blue Wells -country, and thought it lots of fun. - -And yet she had seen him thrown clean at the first pitching buck of a -galloping horse. She could see that he had been freshly sunburned, and -that his clothes were comparatively new. - -“I don’t understand you,” she told him. Jimmy looked away, his eyes -squinted seriously. - -“Do you always have to understand any one?” he asked. - -“You’re not a cowpuncher, Mr. Legg.” - -Jimmy turned to her, a half-smile on his wide mouth. - -“Do I look as raw as all that, Miss Taylor? I know I’m not a cowboy, -but I’m going to be. Johnny Grant says I’ll make a good one, if I live -to finish my education.” - -Marion laughed at his naive confession. - -“I didn’t know that anybody ever wanted to be a cowboy,” she said. -“It’s just hard work.” - -Jimmy Legg looked at her, a curious expression in his eyes. - -“And romance,” he said slowly. “It is a big world out here. The blue -nights, the sweet air of the hills in the morning, the midday, when -the air fairly hums with the heat; and then when the shadows of sunset -come, and the birds call—isn’t it worth learning to be a cowboy, to -live here?” - -“Well, when you see things that way, Mr. Legg. I’ve lived here almost -all my life, and I—maybe I’m so used to it.” - -“Having cowboys thrown off at your feet?” grinned Jimmy. - -Marion flushed slightly. - -“No, this is the first time. But you see, you are not a regular -cowpuncher.” - -“I suppose that does make a difference. Perhaps we better start -walking, Miss Taylor.” - -“Well, if you insist. I can let you have a horse to ride back to the -AK.” - -“That will be fine. We should be at your ranch in an hour.” - -“But we won’t,” laughed Marion. “Any time you walk three miles an hour -through this sand, the State of Arizona will give you a medal for -bravery. In about fifteen minutes you’ll decide that high-heeled boots -were never made for walking.” - -It did not take Jimmy Legg that long to find it out. His left boot -rubbed a blister on his heel, and his right boot creased deeply across -his toes, adding several more blisters to his grand total. But he -gritted his teeth and said nothing. - -“Next time I go riding alone,” panted Jimmy, “I’m going to tie the -lead-rope around my waist. Then, if my horse throws me off and tries -to go home, he’ll have to drag me along.” - -“You’ve got silk socks on, haven’t you?” asked Marion. Jimmy admitted -that he had. - -“No good,” said Marion. “Stylish, but terrible. Wear woolen socks.” - -“You make me ashamed,” confessed Jimmy. “You travel along as though it -was nothing, while I’m having an awful time. All I need is a handful -of lead-pencils and I’d be a first-class cripple.” - -The last mile was exquisite torture, but Jimmy managed to stumble into -the patio of the Double Bar 8 and sit down on the well-curb. - -He took off his boots, while Marion drew a fresh bucket of water. His -feet were so swollen that he could hardly get the boots off, and his -silk socks were in shreds. - -He sat on the edge of the curb and soaked his feet in the cold water -of the trough, while Marion found him a pair of Buck’s socks. - -“Do you still think there is romance?” she asked, as he grimaced over -his blisters. He looked up at her, forgetting the pain in his feet. - -“Yes,” he said honestly. “You are the Beautiful Lady, and I am the -Knight of the Blistered Feet.” He laughed softly. “As soon as I can -get my boots on, I shall try and slay a dragon for you.” - -“It isn’t going to be a hard season on dragons,” smiled the girl. -“Unless all signs fail, you are going to have a hard time getting -those boots on.” - -There was no one else at the ranch. A mocking-bird sang from the patio -wall, and a huge pepper tree threw a shade across the two at the well. - -“Let’s forget about blistered feet,” said Jimmy Legg. “Tell me about -this country, Miss Taylor. I’m a tenderfoot—and, oh so tender just -now,” he laughed ruefully. “But I don’t mind. I didn’t know there were -girls like you in this country. I’ve read stories of Arizona, where -the handsome hero fought forty men, and won the heroine, who was very -beautiful. But it doesn’t seem true to me, because I haven’t seen -forty men since I came.” - -“And there are no beautiful heroines,” she said. - -“Well,” smiled Jimmy, “they didn’t have to do any heroic things. They -were merely the central figure—some one to do great things for, don’t -you see.” - -“I suppose so,” smiled the girl. “But forty Arizona men would be -rather a handful for one man to whip.” - -Jimmy nodded seriously. - -“Yes, I suppose a man would have to have quite an incentive.” - -“He might start in on one and work his way up,” said a strange voice. - -They turned quickly to see Tex Alden, who had come in so softly that -they did not hear him. Perhaps they were too engrossed in their own -conversation to hear him. - -Tex smiled at Marion, but the look he gave Jimmy was anything but -friendly. - -“Hello Tex,” said Marion. “We didn’t hear you ride up.” - -“Naturally.” - -Marion ignored his sarcasm. - -“Tex Alden, this is Mr. Legg,” she said. - -“From the AK,” supplemented Jimmy. - -“Runnin’ a dude ranch out there, are they?” Tex did not offer his hand -to Jimmy, who did not offer his. - -Marion explained how she had lost her horse, and of how she and Jimmy -had met in the hills. But Tex could not see any humor in the -situation. It was too much of a coincidence to suit him. - -“Outside of that,” he said dryly, “I’ve got some bad news for you, -Marion. Your father, Buck and Peeler are in jail at Blue Wells.” - -“In jail?” Marion stared at Tex. “Why, what for, Tex?” - -Tex shrugged his shoulders. - -“Robbin’ that train, it seems.” - -“But they never robbed that train, Tex!” - -“_Quien sabe_. They’re in jail. Between the sheriff and that railroad -detective they cooked up some sort of a case against ’em. I didn’t get -all of it, but it seems that Olson, Porter and the detective, a man -named Wade, came out here to the ranch. During the conversation the -detective kicked the dog. Buck bawled him out for it, and the -detective asked Buck if it was his dog. - -“Buck said it was, it seems. The sheriff asked Buck how long he had -owned the dog, and Buck said he raised it. They’ve got the dog in -jail, too, holding him until they can get the engineer, fireman and -the express messenger here to identify it. From what I can hear, the -dog belonged to the bandits.” - -Jimmy Legg stared across the patio, his eyes smarting in the bright -sunlight. - -“Buck never raised that dog,” said Marion hoarsely. “It was a dog that -picked up with them—with dad, Buck and Peeler.” - -“How long ago?” asked Tex. - -“The—” Marion faltered. “It was the day after the robbery that he came -here with them, Tex. They had been back on Yellow Horn mesa, looking -for cattle. They left the day of the robbery.” - -“What kind of a dog was it?” asked Jimmy Legg. - -“Just a stray mongrel,” said Marion. “It was coarse-haired and sort of -a yellowish-red color.” - -There was no question in Jimmy’s mind that this dog was Geronimo. - -“Quite a lot of strays comin’ to this country lately,” said Tex Alden, -as he looked meaningly at Jimmy. - -Jimmy caught the implication, but said nothing. He did not want to -have any trouble with Tex Alden. - -“I suppose yore father can prove that the dog don’t belong here, can’t -he?” asked Tex. - -“I don’t see why not,” replied Marion quickly. - -“I was just wonderin’, Marion. There’s so many dogs around here that -nobody pays much attention to ’em. Anyway, the sheriff says that even -if they can prove away the dog, they’ll have to show him where they -were the night of the robbery.” - -“But they can’t—except their word, Tex. They were back on Yellow Horn -mesa, and no one saw them back there.” - -Tex smiled. - -“Makes it kinda tough. If yo’re aimin’ to ride to Blue Wells, I’ll -ride back with yuh.” - -Marion looked at Jimmy, who was sitting on the edge of the curb, his -sore feet encased in a pair of Buck’s woolen socks. - -“I suppose I’ll have to go,” she said slowly. “But I don’t like to -leave the ranch alone. If Mr. Legg will stay here until I get back—” - -“That won’t hardly do,” said Tex quickly. “You don’t know this man, -Marion. We can get some one in Blue Wells—” - -“Oh, I don’t mind staying,” said Jimmy earnestly. - -“But you can’t stay here with a strange man.” - -“I meant—until I got back,” said Marion coldly. “And how long since -you started running the Double Bar 8, Tex Alden?” - -Tex flushed hotly. - -“I’m not tryin’ to run the ranch, Marion.” - -“Then don’t. I think Spike is around by the corral; so if you will -excuse me, I’ll get him.” - -Tex made no effort to get the horse for her, because he wanted a word -in private with Jimmy Legg. After she had gone out through the patio -gate, Tex turned to Jimmy. - -“Let me give you a word of advice, young feller. Yo’re new to this -country; so jist take my word for it that we don’t want strangers -around. You tramped in here; now tramp out. The climate of the Blue -Wells country is sure damp for yore kind.” - -“I don’t think I understand what you mean,” said Jimmy. “I’m not a -tramp, Mr. Alden.” - -“You walked into Blue Wells. Anyway, you told the sheriff yuh did. -Ain’t that trampin’?” - -Jimmy smiled and shook his head. - -“There’s a difference, I think, between a man who merely walks in, and -a man who tramps in.” - -“Not a —— bit of difference around here, Legg. I’ll probably ride back -with Miss Taylor; and I don’t want to find you here. If yo’re wise, -you’ll heed what I’m tellin’ yuh. I’ve give yuh a fair warnin’.” - -“Reminds me of what Miss Taylor said about rattlesnakes,” said Jimmy -innocently. “They nearly always buzz before they strike, it seems. She -says that is what makes them less to be feared than any other -poisonous snakes.” - -Tex stepped in closer to Jimmy, his eyes snapping. - -“Do you mean to call me a snake?” - -“No; only the warning. And don’t forget, you called me a tramp.” - -“If you wasn’t such an ignorant —— fool,” began Tex—but at that moment -Marion made her appearance leading the blue-black horse which had left -her stranded in the hills, and Tex turned to her, leaving his -statement to Jimmy unfinished. - -“Mr. Legg won’t be able to stay,” stated Tex. “If you’ll show him -which horse to ride back to the AK, Marion—” - -“I’ve changed my mind,” said Jimmy, hugging his knees. “I’m going to -stay, Miss Taylor.” - -“Thank you, Mr. Legg.” - -Marion turned away to hide a smile. She realized that Tex had tried to -make Jimmy’s decision for him, and she was glad that Jimmy defied him. - -Tex glared at Jimmy, but said nothing. Marion waved at Jimmy from the -patio gate, but Tex did not turn his head. Marion had little to say to -Tex on the way to Blue Wells. He tried to apologize to her for what he -had said to Jimmy Legg, but she paid little attention to his excuses. -As a result, Tex rode to Blue Wells with a distinct peeve against this -stranger. - -He left Marion at the doorway of the sheriff’s office, and met Lee -Barnhardt a little farther up the street. The lawyer might have -ignored Tex’s presence had not Tex stepped in beside him. It was the -first time they had met since the day after the hold-up. - -“What do yuh know about the arrest of Taylor, Buck and the -half-breed?” asked Tex. Barnhardt glanced sidewise at Tex, and a -knowing smile twisted his lips. - -“I know it’s probably lucky for some folks, Tex. You see, I’ve talked -with them, and I’ll probably defend their case; so I haven’t any -information to give out.” - -“Yea-a-ah?” - -“Yea-a-ah,” Barnhardt mimicked Tex’s drawl perfectly, but the -expression in Tex’s eyes caused Barnhardt’s Adam’s-apple to jerk -convulsively. The lawyer was a physical coward, and Tex knew it; so he -grasped Barnhardt by the sleeve, whirled him around and slammed his -back against the front of the office. - -“—— you!” gritted Tex. “I’ve stood about all I’m goin’ to stand from -you, Lee. Yo’re as crooked as a snake in a cactus patch, and we both -know it. You told me about that Santa Rita pay-roll, because you -wanted yore share. Now, —— yuh—get it, if yuh can!” - -Tex stepped back, his eyes narrowed dangerously, as he looked at -Barnhardt’s thin face, which twisted to a sneering grin, when he felt -sure that Tex was not going to do him bodily harm. - -“All right, Tex,” he said hoarsely. “No bad feelings, I hope.” - -Tex shook his head slowly. - -“I don’t _sabe_ you, Lee,” he said softly. “Mebbe some day I’m goin’ -to have to kill you.” - -Tex spoke in a matter-of-fact way, as though the killing of Lee -Barnhardt would be merely a disagreeable task. Barnhardt smiled -crookedly. - -“You don’t need to threaten me, Tex,” he said. - -“Oh, that’s not a threat.” - -Barnhardt straightened his collar. - -“You called me a crook,” he remarked. “You can’t prove anything, Tex; -but you embezzled eight thousand dollars—and I can prove it.” - -“How can yuh? You haven’t the bill of sale, nor a copy of it. You had -nothing to do with the sale. The check was made out to me.” - -“All right,” Barnhardt laughed shortly. “In two weeks the Fall -round-up will be held, Tex. There’s going to be a shortage of X Bar 6 -stock to account for. My report will show this, and I’ll have to -explain just what happened—unless—” - -“Unless what?” - -“Unless you shoot square with me, Tex.” - -“In other words,” said Tex coldly, “if I’ll play a crooked game with -you, you’ll protect me, eh?” - -“You don’t need to be so —— virtuous!” snapped Barnhardt. “You’re in -pretty deep already. And any time I want to, I can cut you loose from -your present job. Don’t forget that I can do you a lot of harm, if I -want to, Tex. One of these days that X Bar 6 is going to be mine.” - -“Yea-a-ah? How do yuh figure that, Lee?” - -“That’s my business. You think things over, Tex.” - -Tex nodded shortly. - -“All right. What kind of a case have they got against Taylor?” - -“I don’t know. That Wade, the railroad detective, seems to think the -dog links ’em pretty close to the case, but he’s got to wait until the -engine crew and the messenger identify the dog as being the one that -was on the express car.” - -“Marion says it’s a dog that picked up with them the day after the -hold-up. I don’t remember any such a dog around the Double Bar 8.” - -“Well, you don’t need to worry about it, do you?” - -“Why not? I expect to marry Taylor’s daughter.” - -“Well? She’s not under arrest. You better look out for Le Moyne, Tex. -He’s got the same ideas that you have, and I understand that Apostle -Paul thinks a lot of Le Moyne.” - -“Le Moyne don’t interest me, Lee.” - -“Sure he don’t. But he don’t have to interest you. Le Moyne is a -handsome devil, and if I was in your boots—” - -“Well, you’re not!” Tex flushed angrily. “I’ve got to help Marion find -some woman to stay at the ranch with her. She can’t stay there alone. -That —— tenderfoot from the AK was there when I left. His horse -pitched him off in the hills, and he wore his feet out walkin’ to the -Double Bar 8.” - -“His name is Legg, isn’t it?” queried Barnhardt. - -“Yeah.” - -“What else do you know about him, Tex?” - -“Not a thing—do you?” - -“Only what Johnny Grant said. Legg told him that he used to be a -bookkeeper in San Francisco.” - -“Yeah? Well, he better go back and sling some more ink.” - -Barnhardt smiled slowly. - -“And he’s staying at the Double Bar 8, is he?” - -“Not very —— long, he ain’t!” snapped Tex. - -He whirled on his heel and looked down toward the sheriff’s office, -where Marion was just coming out, accompanied by the sheriff. - -“How long before they can identify that dog, Lee?” he asked. - -“When the train gets in tonight, Tex.” - -“Uh-huh. I’ll see yuh later, Lee.” - -“All right; and in the meantime you better think over some of the -things I’ve told you.” - -But Tex did not reply. Marion had mounted her horse. Tex called to -her, but she did not reply, as she spurred her horse to a gallop, -heading toward home. Tex swore softly and went on, joining the sheriff -at the doorway of the office. - -“Hyah, Tex,” greeted the sheriff. - -“All right, Scotty,” grunted Tex. “Mind lettin’ me see the Taylor -family?” - -The sheriff shook his head. - -“Can’t do it, Tex. I’ve got my orders from the prosecutor. After -t’night, yuh maybe can; but no chance, until after we know a little -more about things.” - -Tex scowled heavily. - -“What evidence have yuh got, Scotty?” - -“Dog. Answers the description.” - -“Yea-a-ah?” - -Tex leaned one shoulder against the wall of the building and began -rolling a cigaret. He looked quizzically at the sheriff as he said— - -“Scotty, did yuh ever wonder why them three men locked yuh in yore own -jail?” - -The sheriff considered the question gravely, as if it had never -occurred to him before. He smiled softly and shook his head. - -“No; did you, Tex?” - -“It’s none of my business, Scotty.” - -“No? You don’t think Eskimo, Johnny and Oyster had anythin’ to do with -the hold-up, do yuh?” - -“I didn’t say they did, Scotty.” - -“There was four men in that hold-up. Old George Bonnette was in Blue -Wells that night. They’d ’a’ had to get an outsider to help ’em, Tex. -We’ve got to find four men.” - -“But there’s only three in yore jail right now, Scotty.” - -“Yeah; there’s still the owner of the dog.” - -“Then yuh don’t think the dog belongs to Taylor?” - -“No, I don’t. The man who owns the dog is the man who got on the -express car at Encinas, and fought with the messenger. The dog was -just a blind for that man to get on there. He was the fourth one of -the gang, and he probably didn’t figure on the messenger puttin’ up a -fight. He caught up with the express car as quick as possible and took -the dog. The fact that he took a chance to get the dog makes it look -like a cinch that if we can find the owner of that dog, we can land -the whole bunch.” - -It was a long explanation for Scotty Olson, and he was all out of -breath. - -“How about that feller Legg, at the AK, Scotty? He’d make a fourth -man.” - -“Him!” Scotty laughed. “Which man would he make? Not the big feller -that fought the messenger. And —— knows he ain’t one of the masked men -that blew the safe.” - -“Don’t be too sure. He’d look pretty —— big behind a black mask, -looking over the top of a six-gun. That engine crew was so —— scared -they wouldn’t have known whether they were big men or small ones.” - -“How do you know how scared they was, Tex?” - -The sheriff snapped the question quickly. Tex stiffened slightly and -his shoulder swayed away from the wall. - -“Just figurin’ ’em to be human,” he said softly. - -“Oh, yeah.” The sheriff’s smile was hidden behind his big mustache. “I -reckon we’ll get along all right. It takes time to figure out things, -Tex. Wade’s no fool. He’s investigatin’ every clue—him and Porter. I -understand that the Santa Rita has hired a detective. Him and Le Moyne -are on the case, kinda workin’ independent of my office, I suppose.” -Scotty smiled. “But that’s all right. We want the men who got that -thirty thousand.” - -Tex nodded coldly. - -“Good luck to yuh, Scotty. But if I was you, I wouldn’t look for them -men in Blue Wells. They’re a —— of a long ways from here, I’ll -betcha.” - -“I’m no —— palmist,” said Scotty slowly. “If they’re out of the county -I can’t do nothin’, but if they’re around here, I’m goin’ after ’em -good and hard.” - -“Sure,” nodded Tex, and went after his horse, while the sheriff looked -after him quizzically. - -“I wonder what you know, Tex Alden,” he said to himself. “I seen yuh -talkin’ with Lee Barnhardt—and he’ll prob’ly defend Taylor, if this -comes to court. By golly, I’m gettin’ suspicious of everybody. Wade -says you’ve got to suspect everybody, if yo’re goin’ to be a -successful detective; so I expect I’m startin’ out in the right way.” - - - - - VIII—A REGULAR JOB - - -It was supper time at the AK ranch when Jimmy Legg rode in. The boys -had discovered his horse when they returned, and had decided that -Jimmy had been thrown. They were going to wait until after supper -before starting a search. - -He told them of the incident and of the long walk to the Double Bar 8 -ranch. - -“Didja leave that girl alone there?” asked Eskimo. - -“She went back to town,” explained Jimmy. “I guess she wanted to be -there when the railroad men tried to identify that dog, and she said -she’d stay in Blue Wells all night.” - -“I’d kinda like to be there too,” said Johnny Grant. “I’ve been at the -Taylor ranch quite a lot, but I don’t remember any dog of that -description.” - -“Let’s all go in after supper,” suggested Oyster. “I’ve got a few -dollars that’s restless.” - -Old George Bonnette called Jimmy aside after supper. - -“What do yuh aim to do?” asked the old man. - -Jimmy smiled foolishly. - -“I kinda wanted to be a cowpuncher,” he confessed, lapsing into the -dialect easily. - -“Yuh do, eh?” Bonnette smiled. “That’s quite an ambition, don’tcha -think? Forty a month, and feed. Yo’re educated, Legg. I don’t _sabe_ -why yuh want to be a puncher.” - -“I’ve got a reason, Mr. Bonnette.” - -“Some girl dare yuh to be a cowboy?” - -“There’s a woman in the case,” confessed Jimmy. - -Bonnette grunted softly and helped himself to a liberal chew of -tobacco. - -“I thought as much,” he grinned. “Well, you ain’t—yet. I’m full-up on -hired hands right now, Legg. It’ll soon be round-up time, and yuh -might come in handy. - -“It’ll mean a —— of a lot of hard work. I can’t pay yuh a cowpuncher’s -wages, because yuh don’t _sabe_ the work well enough to earn it; but -I’ll pay yuh half-salary. It’ll sure as —— be an education to you, if -yuh want to be a puncher. But I’m —— if I know why yuh want to.” - -“Thanks,” smiled Jimmy. “Johnny Grant asked you to do this, didn’t -he?” - -“Well, he said yuh was jist brainless enough to make a good puncher, -if that’s what yuh mean.” - -“Don’t cowpunchers have any brains, Mr. Bonnette?” - -“Huh!” The old man spat explosively. “Evidence is all agin’ ’em! If -they had any brains, they wouldn’t punch cows.” - -Jimmy thanked him for the half-pay job, and rode away with the three -cowpunchers, after Bonnette had warned them not to antagonize the -sheriff again. - -“Yo’re gettin’ a bad reputation,” declared Bonnette. “Next thing I -know I’ll have some cripples hobblin’ around here.” - -“We’re plumb antiseptic now,” assured Johnny Grant. “There ain’t money -enough in the crowd to start anythin’.” - -They headed for town, talking about the robbery. None of them had told -Jimmy about their battle with the engineer and fireman. The AK boys -were tight-mouthed over it, because they didn’t want to be hauled in -on the case, and they were just a little suspicious about Jimmy Legg. - -Near where the AK road paralleled the railroad, it intersected with -the road from Encinas, and as they neared the intersection they saw -two riders coming from the east, jogging along through the dust, as if -time was of no importance. - -The four riders from the AK drew rein and waited for the two cowboys, -thinking them to be two of the Blue Wells riders. But in this they -were mistaken, as the two riders were strangers to the country. - -One of them was a lean, rangy sort of individual, with a long face, -prominent nose, wide mouth, and widely spaced blue eyes, set in a mass -of tiny wrinkles. The other rider was of medium height, rather blocky -of countenance, wide-mouthed, and with deep grin-wrinkles, which -seemed to end beneath a firm jaw. His eyes were wide, blue and -innocent. - -Both men were dressed in range costume, well-worn, weathered. Their -riding rigs were polished from much usage, and the boys from the AK -noted that their belts and holsters were hand-made by men who knew the -sag of human anatomy. The tall man removed his battered sombrero, -disclosing a crop of roan-colored hair, and the wide grin, which -suffused his whole face, showed a set of strong, white teeth. - -“Howdy,” smiled the tall man. “Is this the road to Blue Wells?” - -“It sure is,” grinned Johnny. He instinctively liked this tall man, -whose grin was contagious. - -“Well, that’s good,” nodded the shorter man. - -Johnny Grant’s eyes had strayed to their two horses, which were -branded on the left shoulder with a Circle X, the iron of a ranch -about twelve miles east of Encinas. - -“We’re goin’ to Blue Wells,” said Eskimo, “and we’ll see that yuh -don’t stray.” - -“That’s sure kind of yuh,” said the innocent-eyed one. “You don’t know -what a load that takes off my mind.” - -Eskimo squinted closely at him, but could not determine whether the -man was joking or not. Johnny Grant moved his horse in closer. - -“My name’s Grant,” he told them. - -He turned in his saddle and introduced the others, concluding with -Jimmy Legg, of whom he said: - -“This is Jimmy Legg. He wants to be a cowpuncher so badly that he -don’t know what to do—and we’re teachin’ him.” - -“I’m sure he’ll make a good one,” said the innocent-eyed stranger, -sizing up the uncomfortable Jimmy. “Yuh can’t hardly tell him from one -now. If yuh hadn’t told us about him, we’d never know but what he was -a top-hand. My name is Stevens. My pardner answers to the name of -Hartley, and we’re proud to know you gents.” - -“Proud to know you,” nodded the boys of the AK. - -“We might as well mosey along,” said Johnny. “You aimin’ to stay in -Blue Wells a while, gents?” - -“All depends,” said “Hashknife” Hartley. “We hear that the Fall -round-up is about to start, and thought we might hook on with some -cow-outfit. We ain’t never been in here, yuh see.” - -“Well, yuh might,” admitted Johnny. “I dunno how the rest of the -ranches are fixed for help.” - -“Does anythin’ ever happen around here?” asked “Sleepy” Stevens. “You -know what I mean—any excitement?” - -“Everythin’ happens,” said Eskimo, and they proceeded to regale them -with a story of the robbery. - -Johnny Grant went into details regarding the dog, which figured in the -evidence, and by the time they got to Blue Wells, Hashknife and Sleepy -knew practically all the details, as far as was known. - -“We’d know more about it when the train gets in,” said Oyster. “Them -trainmen say they can identify the dog, if it’s the same one.” - -They rode in to Blue Wells, and tied their horses at the Oasis -hitch-rack. Hashknife and Sleepy went to the Oasis hotel, where they -secured a room, after which they took their horses to the -livery-stable. - -Quite a crowd of people had gathered in Blue Wells, waiting for the -train to come in. There was much speculation as to whether or not the -trainmen could identify the dog as being the one on the express car. -Tex Alden was in town, as was Le Moyne. Johnny Grant pointed out Le -Moyne, and introduced Hashknife to Tex. - -Hashknife did not strike Tex for a job, but merely exchanged a few -words with him. They met the sheriff in the Oasis, and Johnny -introduced him to Hashknife. But the sheriff was not friendly, and -Johnny explained the reasons why. They found Al Porter and Wade, the -railroad detective, but Porter gave Johnny a wide berth. He could see -that Johnny had imbibed a few drinks, and Mr. Porter did not want his -dignity disturbed. - -The train arrived on time, and the crowd repaired to the hall over Abe -Moon’s store, which was used as a courtroom. Jimmy Legg had imbibed a -large drink of liquor, which had caused him to forget certain things, -and as a result he found himself in the hall, almost rubbing shoulders -with the express messenger. - -The sheriff ordered every one to sit down and not to interfere with -the proceedings. He brought Apostle Paul Taylor, Buck Taylor and -Peeler into the room and seated them against the wall. The half-breed -was frightened, but the Taylor family were cool. Marion was there, and -joined her father. Hashknife and Sleepy remained in the background, -watching the proceedings. - -Al Porter, the deputy, brought the dog into the room, a short piece of -rope tied to its collar. It was Geronimo! Jimmy Legg gasped, drew his -hat farther over his face and acted indifferent. - -Geronimo apparently thought that the gathering was for his special -benefit, for he cavorted on the end of the rope, barking, whining, -sniffing. Suddenly he whirled around, headed toward Jimmy Legg, head -up, sniffing. The scent of the man who had befriended him! - -His sudden lunge almost yanked the rope out of Porter’s hands, and his -paws scraped across Jimmy Legg’s knees, when the angry deputy jerked -the dog back to him. Jimmy gasped with relief, looked up from under -the low-pulled brim of his hat, and found the railroad detective -looking at him. - -The engineer and fireman positively identified the dog. The express -messenger was not so positive, but said that it surely looked like the -same dog. Johnny Grant, with a few drinks of liquor under his belt, -walked out and took a close look at the dog. - -“I’ve been at the Double Bar 8 a lot of times,” he told the sheriff, -“but I never seen that dog before. I like dogs, Scotty. I never miss a -chance to play with a dog, and if that dog was a reg’lar at the Double -Bar 8, I’d shore know it.” - -“Buck swears he raised it from a pup,” replied the sheriff. - -“Buck wasn’t telling the truth,” said Marion. “He was mad at you for -kicking it, and questioning the ownership.” - -“When did you see it the first time, Miss Taylor?” asked the sheriff. - -“When it came home with dad, Buck and Peeler.” - -“The day after the hold-up, eh?” - -“Yes.” - -The railroad detective sauntered up. - -“Where did they say they got the dog, Miss Taylor?” he asked. - -“Why, they said it picked up with them, when they were on their way -home from Yellow Horn Mesa.” - -The sheriff smiled and told Porter to take the dog back to the office. - -“I reckon we’ll hang on to the dog until we find out who owns it,” he -said. - -“But you can’t hold us any longer,” protested Apostle Paul. - -“Can’t I?” - -“It’s a bailable offense,” said the detective. “I suppose you’ll have -a hearing tomorrow, and have your bail set.” - -“And have to stay in jail tonight, eh?” - -“Yes; unless the judge wants to hold a night session.” - -“Which he won’t,” declared Porter. “Old Judge Parkridge will take his -own sweet time—and it won’t be at night.” - -The sheriff removed his prisoners and the crowd filed down the stairs. -Jimmy Legg moved in beside Marion and went down to the street with -her. Most of the crowd headed for the Oasis, and Tex Alden was with -them. He stopped long enough to see that Jimmy Legg was with Marion, -but went on. - -“Gee, that’s a dirty shame, Miss Taylor,” said Jimmy. “They haven’t -anything on your father, nor any of the rest.” - -“Oh, I know it, Mr. Legg; but what can we do?” - -“You might start in by calling me Jimmy. I hate the rest of my name. -It’s James Eaton Legg. Sounds like a cannibal, doesn’t it. Parents -never stop to think, when they’re naming innocent children.” - -“All right, Jimmy—if you’ll call me Marion. Every one does. We are not -formal out here in the wilderness.” - -“I’m glad you’re not. My feet feel fine in those socks. I’ll buy me -some tonight and give Buck a new pair.” - -“Don’t bother about that, Jimmy.” - -“No bother at all. Say, that Tex Alden don’t like me, does he?” - -“Possibly not.” - -“Does he—” Jimmy hesitated. - -“Does he what, Jimmy?” - -“Oh, that’s a little too personal, Marion.” - -“I suppose so. You meant to ask me if Tex thought he had the right to -say who I shall speak to, didn’t you?” - -“Well, has he?” - -“Only in his own mind.” - -Jimmy laughed softly. - -“Some folks are blessed with wonderful imaginations. Are you going to -stay at the hotel tonight?” - -“Yes, I’ll stay there tonight, anyway.” - -They walked up the street and met Chet Le Moyne in front of Abe Moon’s -store. He shook hands with Marion, who introduced him to Jimmy. - -“You are paymaster of the Santa Rita mine, aren’t you?” asked Jimmy. -“I thought that’s what Johnny Grant said.” - -“Yes,” said Le Moyne patronizingly. “And you are the new cowboy at the -AK ranch.” - -“Yea-a-ah,” drawled Jimmy. “That’s me.” - -Marion laughed. - -“He’s going to be a good one, too.” - -“As good as any,” laughed Jimmy. - -“You’ve had a good start, I hear,” chuckled Le Moyne. “They tell me -that you almost killed Scotty Olson and Lee Barnhardt the day you came -here.” - -“And never got arrested,” laughed Jimmy. “This is a wonderful -country.” - -Hashknife Hartley and Sleepy Stevens came out of the store, halted on -the edge of the sidewalk to light their cigarets, and went on across -the street. - -“Who are those men?” asked Marion. “I noticed the tall one looking at -me in the courtroom.” - -“One—the tall one—is named Hartley,” said Jimmy. “The other is -Stevens. They met us at the forks of the road this evening, and rode -in with us. They’re strangers here, it seems.” - -Marion and Jimmy strolled on toward the hotel and Le Moyne went to the -store. Hashknife and Sleepy mingled with the crowd in the Oasis, and -finally took seats at a table near the rear of the place. Business was -good, all the games filled, and the bar was doing a big business. - -The engineer, fireman and the express messenger came over to the -saloon and joined the crowd at the bar. - -“Plenty of excitement,” observed Hashknife. “This hold-up seems to -have kinda stirred up Blue Wells, Sleepy.” - -“Yeah,” Sleepy did not seem to be very enthusiastic. - -“Aw, shake yore hide,” grinned Hashknife. “You act like a mourner at a -funeral, cowboy.” - -“I’m all right,” muttered Sleepy. “But it makes me tired. Every time -we go anywhere, somethin’ happens. There’s no peace anywhere. When -them fellers was tellin’ about that hold-up, yore nose was twitchin’ -like the nose of a pointer dog. Dang it, me and you didn’t come here -to hunt bandits.” - -Hashknife chuckled softly. - -“And I’m not huntin’ ’em, Sleepy. What do yuh think of that? I ain’t -lost no bandits. It’s nothin’ to me how many pay-rolls they steal.” - -“Then don’t say nothin’ more about that girl, Hashknife. Ever since -you got a look at her, you’ve spoke about her several times.” - -“Pshaw! I didn’t realize it, Sleepy. Mebbe I just remarked about her -folks all bein’ in jail.” - -“Let ’em stay in jail,” grunted Sleepy heartlessly. “They prob’ly -robbed that train. We didn’t come here to—” - -“I know that sentence by heart, Sleepy. And you ought to know my -reply. But that don’t alter the fact that she’s one pretty girl.” - -“There yuh go!” gloomily. - -Johnny Grant had spotted them and was coming their way, slightly -unsteady on his legs, but grinning widely. - -“C’mon and have a drink,” he urged. “I jist runs four-bits into a -ten-spot in the black-jack game. If yuh don’t drink yuh can have a -see-gar. But I warns yuh, their see-gars are a lot older than the -liquor they sell. C’mon up to the bar and meet some of the folks.” - -Neither of them wanted a drink, but they did want to be friendly with -Johnny Grant and his crowd; so they elbowed their way to the bar. Ed -Gast and Bill Bailey, of the X Bar 6, were at the bar, and Johnny -introduced them, after which he deposited his money on the bar, and -demanded action. - -“Beatin’ that game is as easy as holdin’ up a train,” he declared, -chuckling. “Runs four-bits up to ten dollars, and sticks my thumb at -m’ nose at the dealer.” - -Hashknife noticed that the sheriff was at the bar, and that Johnny’s -remark interested him. - -“Except that yuh can’t very well lose at holdin’ up a train,” added -Eskimo Swenson, who had caught the sheriff’s reflection in the mirror. -“If yuh ever get the money in yore hands, yo’re as safe as a church. -Political affluence shore as —— don’t make a sheriff a man-catcher.” - -Realizing that this conversation was for his benefit, the sheriff -moved away from the bar, while the AK boys chuckled over their drinks. -Even Sleepy Stevens shed his pessimistic attitude and grinned. - -“These are home folks,” he said to Hashknife. “It appears that the -sheriff ain’t standin’ very well with the AK.” - -“Aw, he’s all right,” said Oyster. “Scotty’s as good as the average -sheriff, except that he’s too serious. He’d give his right eye for a -chance to prove first degree murder agin’ the whole AK outfit, because -we devil him. He’s—” - -The men at the bar jerked around when from out in the street came the -unmistakable sound of a revolver shot. - -“Somebody celebratin’,” decided Johnny Grant, as the sheriff and -several men moved to the doorway and went outside. They gulped their -drinks, and went out into the street, where the only lights were those -from the saloon and store windows. - -“Somebody tryin’ to be funny,” grumbled the sheriff. - -He went back into the Oasis. Some men had come from Moon’s store -across the street, evidently wondering who had fired the shot. Two men -with a lantern were fussing around a wagon in front of the blacksmith -shop. One of the men came across from the store and went into the -Oasis. It was Chet Le Moyne. - -“Well, I reckon it was some puncher wishful of makin’ a noise,” -decided Johnny Grant. They turned and were going back into the saloon, -when some one called from the hotel, which was across the street, and -about a block north of the Oasis. - -“C’mere!” yelled the man. He was evidently calling to some one in the -hotel. “Come out and help me with this feller!” - -“That sounds like somethin’ wrong,” said Hashknife. “Let’s go and see -what it is.” - -They hurried up the street and crossed to the hotel, where several men -had gathered around a man who was lying flat on the ground. - -“He’s been shot,” they heard one of them say. “Better pack him into -the hotel and send for a doctor.” - -A man scratched a match, but it flickered out. Hashknife shoved him -aside, dropped on his knees beside the man, and ignited a match, with -a snap of his thumb-nail. The illumination showed a gory face, gray as -ashes, where the blood had not stained. - -“My ——!” blurted Johnny. “It’s Jimmy Legg!” - -He dropped on his knees beside Hashknife, grasping Jimmy’s shoulders. - -“Hey! Jimmy!” he exclaimed. - -“Don’t shake him!” roared Eskimo. “You big idiot!” - -“Somebody go and find a doctor,” ordered Hashknife. “We’ll take him in -the hotel.” - -They carried him into the little hotel office, where there was light -enough for them to discover that Jimmy Legg had missed death by a very -scant margin. The bullet had struck him just above his left ear, -slanted along his skull, and had furrowed deeply for about three -inches. - -Some one had gone after a doctor, and in the meantime Hashknife -secured a basin of water and a towel, with which he mopped some of the -blood away. - -“I heard that shot,” said the proprietor of the hotel. “I thought it -was somebody just makin’ a noise. Say, I seen that young feller -talkin’ to Miss Taylor not five minutes ago. They was just outside the -door there.” - -“To Miss Taylor, eh?” Johnny blinked at the lamp. “Is she here now?” - -The commotion in the office attracted Marion’s attention, and she was -standing in the hallway door when Johnny spoke. - -“I’m here,” she said. “What do you want of me?” - -The cowboys removed their hats, as Johnny went toward her. - -“You was talkin’ with Jimmy Legg a few minutes ago?” he asked. - -“Why yes.” She was unable to see the man on the floor. - -“Well, he got shot,” said Johnny bluntly. - -“Shot?” Marion jerked forward. “Did somebody—not dead?” - -“He ain’t badly hurt, ma’am,” said Hashknife. “The doctor will fix him -up in no time.” - -Marion came forward to where she could see. Her face was white and her -two hands were clenched tightly, as she looked at Jimmy Legg, -stretched on the floor. - -“Why, I just left him a minute or so ago,” she whispered. “Where did -it happen?” - -“Jist out in the street,” replied Johnny. - -“By ——, I want to find the jasper that shot the poor devil!” - -“If yuh do, don’t keep it to yourself,” growled Eskimo. - -Marion stopped at the desk, bracing herself with one hand. - -“Who would shoot him?” wondered Eskimo. “He wouldn’t hurt anybody. If -it had been one of us—” - -“That would be justified,” finished Johnny Grant. - -Jimmy Legg lifted his head and stared around, blinking his eyes. - -“What was it?” he whispered. - -“Somebody took a shot at yuh,” said Johnny quickly. - -Jimmy Legg felt of his head. - -“Hit me, didn’t they?” - -At this moment the doctor arrived, ordered them to carry Jimmy to a -room, and proceeded to fix up the wound. Marion insisted on helping -him, and Jimmy blinked his gratitude. - -“Did you see the man who shot at you?” asked Marion. - -“I never knew I was shot, until I woke up, Marion. You had just gone -into the hotel, and I started to cross the street, when I saw a big -flash, like an explosion. But I never heard the noise.” - -The doctor washed and sewed up the wound. It was a painful proceeding, -but Jimmy gritted his teeth and did not make a sound. - -“You better get a room here at the hotel and go to bed,” advised the -doctor. But Jimmy refused. - -“I’m all right,” he insisted. “It aches a little, but not enough to -put me in bed. Gee, it sure knocked me out!” - -“And you’re lucky to be alive,” said the doctor, packing his kit-bag. -“An inch further to the right, and you’d have no top on your head -right now.” - -The crowd was just outside the door, waiting for the doctor to finish, -and they crowded in, hardly giving the doctor a chance to wiggle his -way out into the hall. Jimmy held out his hand to Marion, disregarding -the clamoring cowboys. - -“Thank you,” he said. “It was nice of you to stay with me.” - -Marion colored slightly, and her reply was drowned in Johnny Grant’s -greeting. - -“Hyah, Topknot! Howsa head, Jimmy?” - -“Don’t jiggle me!” laughed Jimmy. “My face is so tight I can hardly -laugh.” - -“Don’t laugh,” advised Eskimo. “Now who do yuh know that might hate -yuh enough to shoot yuh, Jimmy?” - -Jimmy frowned painfully at the floor, and when he looked up he caught -Marion’s eye. Tex Alden’s threat came back to him— - -“The Blue Wells country is sure damp for your kind.” - -Jimmy tried to smile, but it was only a grimace. - -“I dunno,” he said slowly. “I haven’t had any trouble with any one -here, except that day I accidently shot at the sheriff and the -lawyer.” - -“But that was an accident,” said Johnny. “Nobody blames yuh for that. -Somebody wanted to kill yuh, kid.” - -“Maybe,” faltered Jimmy, “they mistook me for somebody else.” - -As Jimmy spoke he was looking at Marion, and he switched his eyes to -Hashknife, who was watching him closely. The eyes of the tall cowboy -seemed to bore into him, and Jimmy turned away. - -“You was talkin’ with Miss Taylor just a minute or so before yuh got -shot, eh?” Oyster Shell had an idea. - -“Yes,” - -“Uh-hah!” - -“What’s that got to do with it?” demanded Johnny. - -“Aw, let’s go and get a drink,” suggested Oyster. “Jimmy is all right. -How about yuh, Jimmy?” - -“I’m fine,” replied Jimmy. “Except that my feet don’t track and -there’s a ton of rocks on my head—I’m as good as ever.” - -They moved out of the hotel and headed for the Oasis, where Jimmy was -the center of attraction. Le Moyne and Dug Haley were there. Johnny -introduced them to Hashknife and Sleepy, and they all drank to the -poor aim of some bushwhacker. - -After a few more drinks the AK boys decided to go home. Jimmy’s head -was bothering him, and Johnny Grant decided that a bunk was the best -place for Jimmy Legg. Before they left, the sheriff and deputy bustled -in, having just heard of the shooting, and wanted a detailed account -of it. - -“Aw, whatsa use?” wailed Eskimo. “Somebody popped Jimmy on the head -with a bullet, and that’s all there is to it. Unless petrification -sets in, he’ll be able to fall off a horse agin’ tomorrow—as usual. -C’mon.” - -And the sheriff was obliged to get his information from those who knew -as much about it as the AK boys did. He went back to his office with -Al Porter, and they sat down to discuss it. - -“Well, who do yuh think tried to kill the tenderfoot?” queried Porter. - -“If we didn’t have three men in jail, facin’ a charge of holdin’ up a -train, I’d say that this here Legg person was the fourth one of the -gang, and that some of ’em tried to bump him off for somethin’.” - -“Well, I’ll be ——!” snorted Porter. “If we can’t hang it on to the -Taylor gang, that might be worth workin’ on, Scotty. But who are these -two strange cowpunchers who rode in with the AK gang tonight? Johnny -Grant acts kinda friendly with ’em.” - -“I don’t know, Al. I reckon I’ll hit the hay. Tomorrow we hold a -hearin’ for the Taylor gang, and we’ll see what we’ll see. You better -feed that —— dog before yuh go to bed, or he might mistake old Judge -Parkridge for a strip of jerky. —— knows, he looks like one.” - - - - - IX—COMPLICATIONS - - -The Taylor hearing was more or less of a farce, but it left Apostle -Paul, Buck and Peeler, the half-breed, high and dry in the Blue Wells -jail until the next term of court. Old Judge Parkridge, near-sighted, -more than slightly deaf, a mummified old jurist, set their bail at one -thousand dollars cash, each—bail which no one would furnish. - -There was no evidence against them, except the fact that they had the -dog, and that they could not prove that they had spent the night on -Yellow Horn Mesa. So they were formally charged with train robbery and -held until the next session of court, which would not be held for -three weeks. - -Apostle Paul Taylor cursed the judge, who could not hear it, and went -back to the jail, followed by Buck and Peeler. Marion was -broken-hearted, but did not show it. She sat down in the sheriff’s -office and tried to reason out just what to do. The Double Bar 8 could -not afford to hire men, and she could not do the work alone. - -The sheriff did not try to solace her. He was tongue-tied in her -presence. Then Tex Alden showed up. He had not been at the hearing, -but had been told all about it. - -“That’s sure tough, Marion,” he told her. “I’ll tell yuh what I’ll -do—I’ll send some of my men down to run the ranch for yuh, and it -won’t cost yuh a cent.” - -“No, thank you, Mr. Alden.” - -Tex colored quickly. It was the first time she had ever called him -“Mr. Alden.” - -“Why, what’s the matter?” he asked quickly. “What have I done?” - -“You know what you did,” she retorted. “Please don’t bother yourself -about my affairs.” - -Tex stared at her wonderingly. - -“Well, for gosh sake!” he blurted. “Hm-m-m-m! Whatsa matter now?” - -But Marion turned away from him and stared out through one of the -dirty windows. Tex whistled softly and walked outside. He stopped, -turned, as if to go back, but changed his mind and went on up the -street, whistling unmusically between his teeth, his brow furrowed. - -Lee Barnhardt, the lawyer, was coming from his office, and met Tex in -front of the general store. - -“Wasn’t that a —— of a verdict, Tex?” he asked - -“Verdict? Oh, yeah.” Tex looked thoughtfully at the lean-faced -attorney. “I’m wonderin’ who’ll run the Double Bar 8 until after the -trial, Lee?” - -“I don’t know; never thought about it, Tex. Say, did you hear about -that AK tenderfoot getting shot last night?” - -“Legg?” - -“Yes. Some one shot him last night, almost in front of the hotel.” - -“Yea-a-ah? Kill him?” - -“No,” Barnhardt laughed. “Skull was too hard, I guess. He had been -standing there, talking with Marion Taylor, and just after she went -into the hotel, some one shot him. But he was able to ride back to the -AK; so I guess he’s all right.” - -Tex took a deep breath and looked back toward the sheriff’s office. -Marion was coming up the street. He turned to Barnhardt. - -“I hadn’t heard about it, Lee. I left just after the trainmen had -identified the dog.” Tex turned on his heel and went across the -street, disappearing in the Oasis saloon. - -Marion joined Barnhardt and they walked to his office. The girl did -not like Barnhardt, but her father had engaged him to handle their -defense. Hashknife and Sleepy had talked with several of the cowboys, -and it was their opinion that none of the cattle outfits would put on -extra men until the round-up. - -Hashknife went to the sheriff’s office and had a talk with Scotty -Olson. Hashknife had heard the cowboys talking about the Double Bar 8, -and the fact that there was no one, except the girl, to run the ranch. -Hashknife explained to the sheriff that he and Sleepy would be willing -to run the Double Bar 8, at least until the round-up started, and -without wages. - -“What’s the idea?” queried Scotty. It looked fishy to him. - -“Merely helpin’ out,” smiled Hashknife. “It’ll save us a hotel bill, -and we might as well be workin’ as settin’ around a saloon.” Scotty -smoothed his mustaches and admitted that it would be a great help to -the Taylor family. - -“C’mon in and meet Apostle Paul,” suggested the sheriff. - -Hashknife followed him to the cells and was introduced to Marion’s -father, who scrutinized Hashknife closely, when the sheriff explained -what Hartley and his partner were willing to do. - -“I thought mebbe Tex Alden would help us out,” said the old man. - -“Yuh can hang that idea up in the smokehouse,” said the sheriff. “Tex -met yore daughter a while ago, and she kinda snubbed him up real -short, Paul.” - -“Yea-a-ah? Well, I’ll be ——! See if yuh can get holt of her, Scotty.” - -The sheriff left Hashknife with Taylor, while he found Marion. The old -man had little to say to Hashknife, and the conversation dragged -heavily until the sheriff brought her in and introduced her to -Hashknife. - -“Did Tex offer to help us out?” asked Taylor. - -Marion nodded quickly. - -“He did; and I refused his offer. And he knows why I refused it, Dad.” - -“Gosh a’mighty—why?” - -“I can’t tell you now.” - -“Uh-huh. Well, I jist wanted to know if he did. Mr. Hartley and his -pardner offer to help yuh run the ranch at least until the round-up -starts, and it shore looks generous—comin’ from strangers.” - -“It certainly is generous!” exclaimed Marion. “Dad, I think I can get -Nanah to stay with me.” - -“That’ll be fine. I’m much obliged to yuh, Hartley, and I’ll not be -forgettin’ this favor. We’re shore up agin’ a hard deal. How soon can -yuh go out to the ranch?” - -“I broke a State record on saddlin’ a bronc once,” grinned Hashknife. -“Our animals are in the livery-stable, and I know Sleepy is plumb -willin’ to give up that bed at the hotel.” - -“Then we’ll all ride out together,” said Marion. “My horse is there -too.” Hashknife found Sleepy at Moon’s store and introduced him to -Marion. Lee Barnhardt was there, and heard Hashknife explain to Sleepy -that they were going to run the Double Bar 8. The lean-necked lawyer’s -brows elevated momentarily, and he wondered why Tex Alden hadn’t -handled that end of the deal. - -Sleepy went with Marion to get the horses, while Hashknife secured -paper and envelopes from Moon, and wrote a letter. Lee Barnhardt sat -on a counter across the room, and wondered who this tall cowboy might -be. Lee did not believe in philanthropy, and he wondered just why -these two cowboys should offer to work the Double Bar 8 for nothing. -He watched Hashknife, who hunched over the counter, taking much time -over the composition of his letter. - -Lee moved over to that counter and bought some tobacco he did not -need. Hashknife sealed the letter and began directing the envelope. -Lee walked slowly past him, getting a flash of the address on the -letter, which was directed to Leesom & Brand, Attorneys at Law, -Chicago. - -If Lee Barnhardt expected to find any clue to Hashknife’s identity, he -could hardly find it in the address of a letter, but he smiled queerly -as he walked to his office and sat down, twiddling his thumbs. - -But it was not a pleasant smile, and his head sunk into his collar -until the wattles of his wry-neck protruded. For about ten minutes he -sat thus, totally absorbed in his own thoughts, which were finally -broken by the entrance of Tex Alden, who had been depleting the stock -of the Oasis saloon until he fairly reeked with alcoholic fumes. - -“What do you know about them two fellers goin’ out to the Taylor -ranch?” he demanded of Barnhardt. - -“Eh?” Lee looked up quickly. “Oh, yes. What about ’em?” - -“That’s what I want to know, by ——!” - -“You’re sore about something, ain’t you, Tex?” - -“Yo’re —— right I am! Who authorized them two punchers to run that -place?” - -“Well, I didn’t. It wasn’t any of my business. Tex, you don’t need to -get drunk and come roaring into my office. I never sent them out -there. It seems to me that Miss Taylor was perfectly willing to have -them go out there. And they talked with old Apostle Paul. Don’t hop -me; hop them.” - -“Hop, ——!” Tex leaned on the desk and glared at Barnhardt. - -“Go to it, Tex. Hop anything you want to, but leave me out. Did you -offer to run the ranch for her?” - -“I did, —— it!” - -Lee smiled at Tex’s flushed face. - -“What did she say?” - -“None of yore —— business!” - -“Mm-m-m-m! Must have been a good reason.” - -“Who are these strange punchers?” - -Lee shook his head. - -“How would I know? They’re going to run the Double Bar 8 for nothing. -Rather charitable for a pair of strangers, don’t you think, Tex?” - -“Too —— charitable.” - -“That’s my opinion. But I don’t know a thing against ’em.” - -“Know anythin’ for ’em?” bluntly. - -“Not a thing, Tex. Marion is a mighty pretty girl, and—” - -“Drop that!” snapped Tex angrily. “Leave her out of it.” - -“Oh, all right. But she didn’t talk as though she hated either of -them. I heard her talking to them in Moon’s store a while ago.” - -Tex’s black eyes snapped angrily. - -“I want to know a few things,” he said evenly. “I’m no —— fool!” - -“Well, you’ll not find out anything from me, because I don’t know -anything to tell you, Tex. I’m no judge of human nature, but I’d go -easy with those two men. I don’t think you can scare ’em. They’ve -probably got a reason for running the Taylor ranch—for nothing.” - -“They can’t scare me, by ——!” - -“They probably won’t try,” smiled Barnhardt. “Anyway, they have no -reason for trying to scare you. Tex, does their names mean anything to -you?” - -“Their names? Hartley and Stevens? Not a —— thing.” - -“Ask Plenty Goode about it?” - -“What would he know about ’em, Lee?” - -“Do you remember one night out at the X Bar 6, just after Goode had -hired out to you, and I was there? We were talking about rustlers and -horse-thieves, and Goode told us some of the things that happened in -the Modoc country. He lived at Black Wells, I believe. Don’t you -remember the names now, Tex?” - -“Lee, I believe yo’re right. What was it he called the tall one?” - -“Hashknife.” - -“That was it! But are these the same men, Lee?” - -“I heard the tall one called by that name a while ago.” - -“Huh! What do yuh reckon they’re doin’ over here?” - -Lee smiled crookedly. - -“I dunno, Tex; but it has probably got something to do with the train -robbery. And if I had held up that train, I’d sure hate to have these -men on my trail. Ask Goode more about them, Tex.” - -Tex nodded slowly, thoughtfully. Suddenly he jerked ahead, his eyes -boring into Barnhardt. - -“Why should I worry about ’em? They can’t hang anythin’ on to me, by -——!” - -“Oh, all right,” sighed Lee. “I know I’d like to have that eight -thousand dollars back from you. You better give it to me pretty quick, -because I can’t cover it up very long.” - -“Why can’t yuh? The round-up count can be long. You handle all the -business for the X Bar 6, and you can add those cattle to your report. -They don’t know the sale was made.” - -“Compound a felony, eh? Turn crook for you, Tex?” - -“Turn ——! Listen, Lee.” Tex leaned across the desk and poked a finger -at Lee’s nose. “Yo’re as crooked as a snake in a cactus patch. You’d -double-cross yore best friend for a dollar. Don’t swaller so hard! I -mean what I’m tellin’ yuh. You told me about that Santa Rita pay-roll, -because you wanted yore cut out of it, and yo’re sore because yuh -didn’t get it. - -“I haven’t any eight thousand dollars —— yuh; I ain’t got no way to -get eight thousand dollars. And what’s more, I don’t think I’d give it -to yuh if I had it. Now, roll that up in some tar-paper and smoke it. -Any old time you start playin’ saint to my sins, yo’re goin’ to get in -wrong. Now, think it over.” - -Tex surged away from the desk, and went out, scraping his spurs -angrily, while Lee Barnhardt looked after him, gloomy-eyed, his lips -compressed tightly. Finally he sighed and shook his head. - -“Lee, your sins are finding you out,” he said softly. “That poor fool -is trying to bluff you—and he almost did.” - - - - - X—HASHKNIFE AND SLEEPY, PHILANTHROPISTS - - -“This old place is sure pleasin’ to the naked eye,” said Hashknife the -following morning, while Sleepy washed his face noisily at the old -wash-bench near the kitchen door. “I like this old patio, Sleepy. Them -walls were sure built to ward off bullets.” - -“Yeah, and we’re in a peaceable neighborhood,” grunted Sleepy, his -eyes shut against the sting of soap-suds, while he pawed awkwardly -along the wall, trying to locate the towel, which Hashknife had deftly -removed. - -“Where’s that —— towel!” he roared. “Gimme that, before I scalp yuh. -Dang yuh, Hashknife, you’ve got a —— of an idea of humor. Ow-w-w-w! -Please! My ——, if I ever git m’ eyes open ag’in, I’ll scalp yuh.” - -Sleepy danced violently, his dripping hands held at right angles to -his body. - -“Whatsa idea of the ghost-dance?” queried Hashknife soberly. “The -towel is there on the wash-bench, where yuh left it.” - -This was palpably a falsehood, but Sleepy pawed his way to the bench, -found the towel, and wiped his burning eyes. - -“You hadn’t ought to use laundry soap in yore eyes,” said Hashknife -reprovingly. “Whatcha cryin’ about?” - -“You stole that towel! Yeah, yuh did! Oh, well!” Sleepy shrugged his -shoulders. “A feller that ain’t got no more sense than to throw in -with a danged—” - -“Halt!” snorted Hashknife. “Say it, and I’ll wash out yore mouth, -Sleepy.” - -“Oh, yuh will!” Sleepy glared at Hashknife, who was in line with the -kitchen door, where Marion stood, laughing. - -“Ex-cuse me, Miss Taylor,” said Sleepy. “If you’d lived with -Hashknife—uh—I mean, if you—” Sleepy floundered and wiped his eyes. - -“You’ll excuse him, Miss Taylor,” said Hashknife seriously. “He ain’t -very bright. Ever once in a while he gets a dirty look in his eyes, -and has to wash ’em out, yuh see. As a friend he’s all right, but when -yuh want mental companionship, I’d as soon have that burro yuh call -Apollo.” - -Marion laughed, and invited them in to breakfast. She introduced them -to Nanah, a portly Indian woman, whom Sleepy dubbed “Carrie Nation,” -because she held a hatchet in her left hand, while she shook hands -with the other. - -“She’s related to Peeler,” explained Marion. - -“Relate by marriage,” said Nanah solemnly, as if to amend Marion’s -statement. - -“Nephew?” asked Hashknife, helping himself to a stack of hot-cakes. - -“Son,” said Nanah seriously. - -“Relate by marriage!” exploded Sleepy. - -Nanah did not smile. She spilled more batter on the griddle, examined -the pitcher closely, as she glanced at Hashknife’s plate, possibly -fearing she had underestimated their hot-cake ability, and said: - -“Somebody say Peeler rob train. —— lie! Too lazy.” - -“And that’s the most perfect alibi I ever heard,” laughed Hashknife. -“Nanah, I’ll bet any jury in Blue Wells would turn him loose on that -kind of evidence.” - -“What do you think of the case?” asked Marion. - -Hashknife shook his head. - -“I dunno, Miss Taylor. It kinda looks to me as though the sheriff had -kinda gone off half-cocked. That old judge ought to be restin’ in a -cemetery. I dunno how any community could stand for an old mummy like -him. He ain’t human. There ain’t nothin’ against ’em, except that -darned dog, and the fact they were not home that night.” - -“But they surely couldn’t convict on that evidence.” - -“Mm-m-m-m-m!” Hashknife masticated thoughtfully. “I dunno. I’ve seen -queer things happen. I ’member a case where one man was suin’ another -for stealin’ his wife, and the cow-jury brought in a verdict of -manslaughter against the prosecutin’ attorney.” - -“A-a-a-aw, don’t lie like that!” protested Sleepy. “You never seen -nothin’ of the kind.” - -“Well, I’ve seen things just about as bad. I don’t trust humanity—not -cow-jury humanity. If I was goin’ to win that case, I’d do it out of -court, Miss Taylor.” - -“But how could that be done?” asked Marion eagerly. - -“Find the men that done the job.” - -“An easy thing to think about,” observed Sleepy, leaning back to let -Nanah slide a pile of hot-cakes on his plate. - -“But the sheriff won’t do anything now,” said Marion. “He feels that -he has done his duty.” - -“Prob’ly a good thing he won’t,” grinned Hashknife. “Any man that -wears a mustache like Olson does, couldn’t find his own socks inside -his boots. That man has all gone to hair.” - -“Samson wore long hair,” reminded Sleepy. “He was strong.” - -“Strong—yea-a-ah! But did he have any brains? He didn’t. If he had any -brains he wouldn’t have let that woman monkey around him with a pair -of shears. Just to prove that he was thick—he slept through the -hair-cuttin’. Can yuh imagine that?” - -“I think Wade, the railroad detective, was more responsible for the -arrests than Olson was,” said Marion. - -“I’ve seen him,” nodded Hashknife. “He’s one of them kinda jiggers -that don’t care whether he gets the guilty man or not, just so he gets -somebody. That feller used to be a policeman in Los Angeles. They take -the uniform off a policeman—and he’s a detective. - -“Do yuh know that the idea of numberin’ houses in a city was started -by a police department? It was. Their officers was always gettin’ into -the wrong houses; so they numbered ’em. Nanah, you make gosh-awful -good hot-cakes. Yuh do so. You Navajo?” - -Nanah nodded quickly. - -“Do you speak Navajo?” asked Marion. - -Hashknife shook his head. - -“Nope. Speak a little Nez Perce, Flat-head, Sioux, English and -Profane. Yuh have to wear a rag around yore head to learn Navajo.” - -“And pack a snake around in yore teeth,” added Sleepy. - -Marion laughed at the expression of Nanah’s face. - -“I not bite snake,” declared the squaw seriously. - -“That’s right,” said Hashknife. “Don’t-cha do it, Nanah.” - -They shoved back from the table and rolled cigarets, while Nanah and -Marion cleared away the dishes. - -“If you were going to try and find the men who held up that -train—where would you look?” asked Marion. - -Hashknife smiled over his cigaret. - -“That’s hard to say. I’d have to do a little addition, subtraction and -division. Didja ever get far enough in school to work on problems -where they let X equal the missin’ numbers?” - -Marion smiled. - -“Yes, I have, Mr. Hartley.” - -“Well, then, don’t call me mister. My name’s Hashknife. Now that yuh -know me well enough to call me Hashknife, I’d say that I’d let about -four X’s equal the missin’ bandits, and work out the problem from -there. We’ve got the dog. Workin’ backwards from a dog, yuh ought to -get quite a lot. - -“In the beginning I’d like to ask yuh what yuh know about a feller who -is workin’ for the AK outfit who is named Jimmy Legg.” - -“James Eaton Legg,” said Marion solemnly. “He said it sounded like a -cannibal. I don’t know a thing about him, except that he came to Blue -Wells the night of the robbery. Johnny Grant took a liking to him, and -took him out to the AK, where he’s been falling off horses ever since. -He says he’s going to learn to be a cowboy, if he lives long -enough—and that’s all I know about him.” - -“Not much,” mused Hashknife. “Nice boy?” - -“Certainly he’s nice,” said Marion, without hesitation. - -“I s’pose so,” smiled Hashknife. “Bein’ as yo’re the boss of this -outfit, suppose yuh tell us what yuh want done today.” - -“I don’t know,” she confessed. “Suppose you spend the day in getting -used to the place.” - -“All right. Mebbe we’ll corral a few horses and look ’em over. If we -handle the round-up for the Double Bar 8, we’re goin’ to need a -remuda.” - -“Sure. Suppose you ride back to Blue Wells some time today and bring -back the three that are in the livery-stable. We forgot them.” - -“That’s right. How about the chuck-wagon?” - -“Oh, I forgot about that. We have always used the X Bar 6 outfit -wagons. Tex Alden has always insisted that our outfit was too small to -run their own chuck-wagon. But this year—” - -Marion’s pause was significant. Hashknife realized that everything was -not right between the Taylor family and Alden. - -“He didn’t invite yuh to share his chuck, eh?” - -Marion shook her head slowly. - -“I guess we’ll get along all right.” - -“Y’betcha,” warmly. “We’ll kinda look things over, Miss Taylor.” - -“And now that we’re well enough acquainted for you to call me Marion—” - -“Oh, all right,” laughed Hashknife. - -He joined Sleepy in the patio, and they inspected the stables and -corrals, with Apollo following them like a dog, trying to nip the -brims of their hats. - -It was possibly half an hour later that Lee Barnhardt rode in at the -ranch, and the Blue Wells attorney was a sight for sore eyes. His -mount was a sway-backed sorrel, with a long neck and a whispy tail. -Barnhardt did not wear chaps, and the action of the horse had wrinkled -his trousers, until the bottoms were up to his knees, showing an -expanse of skinny leg and a pair of mismated socks. On his head he -wore a sombrero, which was too small for him, and a flannel shirt, so -large around the neck that one could easily catch a glimpse of his -collar-bone. - -He nodded pleasantly to Hashknife and Sleepy and dismounted, allowing -his trousers to resume a normal attitude toward his legs. - -“I just rode out to see how things were going,” he explained. “I spoke -to Mr. Taylor about it.” - -“Well, yuh don’t need to apologize,” grinned Hashknife. “Of course yuh -got here pretty early in the mornin’ to find anythin’ goin’ on. That’s -quite a bronc you’ve got.” - -“Yes; he’s all right. Not much for looks, but reliable. Is Miss Taylor -at home?” - -“I think you’ll find her in the house.” - -“Thank you.” - -Barnhardt dusted off his clothes, with a flap of his hands, and headed -toward the house, while Hashknife and Sleepy grinned at each other. - -“That,” said Hashknife seriously, “is the attorney.” - -“I’m disappointed,” said Sleepy seriously. - -“Yuh don’t need to be, Sleepy. Hello! Here comes the next chapter.” - -Jimmy Legg had arrived at the Double Bar 8, with his head swathed in -bandages, his sombrero cocked at an angle. He slid out of his saddle, -hitched up his belt and gazed soberly at the two cowboys. - -“Hello,” he said. - -“How’s the head?” asked Hashknife. - -“Gee, it sure was sore this morning. I didn’t sleep much last night. I -guess I was scared,” Jimmy grinned widely. “Got to thinking how close -I came to getting me a harp. Honest, it was an awful dream. You see, -I’m not musical at all.” - -The two cowboys grinned with Jimmy. He looked at the lawyer’s horse -quizzically. - -“Who rides that thing?” he asked. - -“An attorney from Blue Wells,” said Hashknife. - -“Oh, Lee Barnhardt? Well,” Jimmy hitched up his belt, “it looks like -him. They’ve both got the same shape neck.” - -“Yuh hadn’t ought to make fun of a horse,” said Sleepy. - -“No, I suppose not. Really, I shouldn’t make fun of anybody. I ought -to put in most of my time being thankful I’m alive. I am, too. I’ve -got to go and have the doctor dress my head, but I thought I’d stop -and see Miss Taylor. She’s going to need some help around here, and I -thought I’d offer my services. The AK really don’t need me.” - -“What can you do?” asked Hashknife. - -Jimmy shuffled his feet. - -“Well,” he said slowly, “I really don’t know. Unless, of course, she -has some horses that need to have some one fall off them. Johnny Grant -says I’m the best he has ever seen. He says if you’re a champion rider -there’s always a dispute over it. But if you’re a champion faller-off, -you’ve got a cinch title.” - -The two cowboys laughed at Jimmy, or rather, with him. - -“Can yuh handle a rope?” asked Hashknife. - -“Not on a horse. There’s too many things to remember. I always fell -off, trying to keep from tripping my own horse. On the ground, I’m -pretty good. Eskimo says I can heat a branding-iron handle hotter than -anybody he ever seen. And that about lets me out, I guess.” - -“Well, yo’re honest about it, anyway,” laughed Sleepy. “If yuh live -long enough, you’ll prob’ly be a top-hand about the time they stop -raisin’ cattle and start on sugar-beets.” - -“I’d have an even chance with the rest of the cowboys at raising -sugar-beets, I suppose.” - -“You sure are an optimist, pardner,” laughed Hashknife. “I hope Miss -Taylor can use yuh. We need an optimist around us.” - -“Fine,” grinned Jimmy. “And I’d learn just as much about being a -cowboy.” - -“And maybe live longer,” said Sleepy. “Things that might make others -shoot— make us laugh. You better tie up yore bronc.” - -Jimmy tied his horse to a ring in the patio wall, and they went inside -the patio, where they found Marion and Barnhardt. She shook hands with -Jimmy, who protested that he was better than he ever was. Barnhardt -looked him over coldly, but no one bothered to introduce them. - -“I’m looking for a job,” laughed Jimmy. “I told Mr. Bonnette that I -was going to offer my services to you, and he said it would be all -right with him. He was very nice about it.” - -“He knows the salary,” said Hashknife. “We split it three ways.” - -“Well, that’s mighty nice of you, Jimmy,” said Marion. - -“Don’t mention it, Marion.” - -Barnhardt cleared his throat raspingly. He wanted to voice an -objection, but had none. Hashknife’s eyes were smiling, but his mouth -was serious, as he watched the lawyer’s face. - -“I think we are being well taken care of, Mr. Barnhardt,” said Marion, -her eyes dancing. - -“Oh, hu—er—yes, indeed.” Barnhardt mopped his face with a silk -handkerchief. “Very, very well, Miss Taylor. I—I guess I will be going -along.” - -“Come again,” said Hashknife cordially. Barnhardt flashed a glance at -him, as he held out his hand to Marion. - -They walked to the patio gate and watched Barnhardt ride away, sitting -stiffly in his saddle, his horse trotting, every jerk of which drew -Barnhardt’s trousers up nearer his knees, and caused his ill-fitting -sombrero to shift from side to side. - -“Looks like the joker in a deck of playin’-cards,” observed Sleepy. - -“He means well, I think,” said Marion, as they turned back. - -“Means well to Lee Barnhardt,” smiled Hashknife. - -“I don’t like him,” said Jimmy. “Oh, it isn’t because of anything he -has ever done to me,” he hastened to say. “But it is just something -about him that—well, I don’t like him.” - -“Shall we show our new member to the bunk-house?” asked Hashknife. “I -like him a lot better, since I’ve heard he don’t like lawyers.” - -“Oh, my remark does not cover the entire profession,” said Jimmy -quickly. - -Marion laughed and went into the house, while Hashknife and Sleepy -introduced Jimmy to the bunk-house. They sat down and rolled cigarets. -Jimmy was not very adept, but he managed to make his own smoke. - -“You know Miss Taylor pretty well, don’tcha?” asked Hashknife. - -Jimmy colored quickly. - -“Well, not awful well.” - -“Well enough to call her Marion.” - -“She asked me to call her that. But that’s all right, isn’t it?” - -“It’s all right with me. But it got under the hide of that lawyer.” - -“It’s none of his business.” - -“No-o-o, I suppose not, Jimmy. Have you any idea who shot yuh?” - -Jimmy started to speak, changed his mind, and shook his head. - -“I heard,” said Hashknife slowly, “that two prominent young men in -this community had declared their intentions of marryin’ this young -lady.” - -“Oh, I know that,” said Jimmy quickly. “Tex Alden and Chet Le Moyne. -But that doesn’t make any difference to me.” - -“I see,” Hashknife grinned widely. “You’ll make it a three-cornered -affair, eh?” - -“Not at all. You see, I—I hardly know the lady. She was nice to me, -and I appreciate it. But I never said I wanted to marry her.” - -“You’ve met Chet Le Moyne?” - -“Yes, I’ve met him. We were introduced at the Oasis saloon.” - -“Where did you meet Tex Alden?” - -“I never was introduced to him, but I—I talked to him here.” - -“Yeah? And he told yuh to keep away, didn’t he?” - -Jimmy looked at Hashknife in amazement. - -“Why, how did you know that?” - -“I didn’t,” smiled Hashknife. “I knew you’d correct me, if I was -wrong.” - -Jimmy rubbed his nose and grinned foolishly. - -“That’s one way of finding out, I suppose. Yes, he did tell me to keep -away from here.” - -“And that night you got shot.” - -“Gee! Do you think he shot me?” - -Hashknife smiled softly over the manufacture of another cigaret, but -did not answer. - -“What do you think I ought to do?” queried Jimmy. - -“Just forget it,” replied Hashknife. “You don’t know anything about -it, Jimmy.” - -“I know, but—” Jimmy hesitated awkwardly. “But he—whoever fired that -shot—wanted to kill me, didn’t they? Don’t you suppose they’ll try -again?” - -“Undoubtedly.” - -“Gee, that puts me in a fine position!” - -“Yea-a-ah, it does. You ought to grab a train and high-tail it out of -this country.” - -Jimmy thought it over seriously, the smoke from his cigaret drifting -up into his eyes. - -“No,” he said finally, “I won’t go. I’ve never injured any one, and -I’m not going to run away.” - -“And take chances on bein’ killed?” - -Jimmy nodded. - -“Yes; it’s all right. I might be lucky.” - -Hashknife held out his hand to Jimmy, as he said, - -“Young man, you belong. I wouldn’t blame yuh if yuh ran away. We’re -just a pair of ordinary human beings, but we’re backin’ yore play.” - -“Gee, that’s nice of you! I’m not much good—not alone. I didn’t come -here with the idea of becoming a gunman, but I wish somebody would -show me something about a revolver. It tries to jump out of my hand -every time I shoot it, and I can’t hit a five-gallon can at ten feet. -Really, a fellow should know something about a gun—if somebody is -trying to kill him.” - -“It might come in handy,” smiled Hashknife. “Neither of us are good -shots, but we can show you how to point a gun.” - -“Fine! And to draw one real fast, like Johnny Grant can?” - -“I’ve never seen Johnny Grant draw a gun. I’ve found that it isn’t all -in the speed. Too much speed wastes the first shot. Never reach for a -gun, unless you mean to use it, and when you do reach, draw and shoot -deliberately. Split-second gunmen don’t hit anythin’. And another -thing, Jimmy—don’t shoot, unless yo’re in the right. Bein’ right to -start with will win nine times out of ten. You know it and the other -man knows it.” - -“I think I know what you mean, Mr. Hartley.” - -“I’m glad yuh do—and my name’s Hashknife—to them that belong.” - -Jimmy grinned widely. It was the first time that any one had even -intimated that he might “belong,” and his heart filled with gratitude -toward this tall, serious-faced cowboy, who had admitted him to the -brotherhood of cowpunchers. - -“But you’ll never make a cowpuncher out of yourself, by gettin’ -pitched off every bronc yuh see,” declared Sleepy. “Bein’ a cow-hand -don’t necessarily mean that yuh can ride anythin’ that wears hair. -Nobody’s goin’ to blame yuh, if yuh don’t ride bad ones. That’s only a -small part of the business—the fool part, Jimmy.” - -“I suppose you’re right,” admitted Jimmy. “I wasn’t born to ride -buckers. I was just wondering how you two men happened to be cowboys.” - -“Circumstance, I reckon,” said Hashknife. “I was born on the Milk -River, in Montana. My dad was a preacher, Jimmy. Not the kind of a -preacher you’ve known. He wore overalls and boots, and when he wasn’t -ridin’ from place to place, packin’ his gospel, he was workin’ like —— -at somethin’ else to make a livin’ for the family, because preachin’ -didn’t pay dividends. - -“There was six of us kids, and I was the oldest; which meant that I -was shiftin’ for myself when I was twelve. I naturally didn’t get -over-educated. But I competed against men, and they taught me things. -There wasn’t anythin’ to do in that country, except punchin’ cows; so -I naturally learned the business. - -“In fact, I was about eighteen years old before I knew there was -anythin’ else in the world. Then I started driftin’, learnin’, and -fightin’ my way. I got whipped a lot of times, but I learned a lot of -things; some of it from books, but a lot more from humanity. It’s been -a hard school, Jimmy—and it still is; a school where yuh never -graduate.” - -“I never thought of the world in that way, Hashknife.” - -“That’s the way she is,” declared Sleepy. “I got off in about the same -way Hashknife did. My folks wanted to honor Idaho; so they moved over -near Pocatello before I was born. I went to school, when they could -find a man who was brave enough to teach the risin’ sons—which wasn’t -no ways regular. The last teacher we had was a horse-thief, and he -almost got me mixed up with him in a deal. - -“I jist kinda growed up, got some wildeyed ideas, and follered a bunch -of geese South. I had a lot of corners on me, and inside of three -years I had ’em all knocked off. In three years more I had hollers -where there used to be bumps. About that time I decided that there was -a —— of a lot of other folks in the world; so I sawed off my horns and -held my elbows close to my sides, when I went through a crowd. I -eventually drifted to the Hashknife outfit, where I finds my pardner. -I dunno just how or why he picked up with me, but we’ve been together -ever since.” - -“I felt sorry for yuh,” said Hashknife solemnly. - -“Yeah, and I’ve felt sorry for myself ever since.” - -From out in the patio came the raucous bray of Apollo, as if he had -joined the laugh. The three men sauntered out into the patio, where -Apollo was nosing around in a water-bucket. He looked them over -suspiciously and angled crab-wise toward Sleepy, who was wise in the -ways of a burro. - -“Git away from me, yuh —— relic,” snorted Sleepy, slapping at the -burro with his hat. Marion came from the house, laughing at Sleepy’s -antics, and they grouped together at the well. - -“Apollo is a family heirloom,” laughed Marion. “No man knows his age. -The Indians say he was here when they came, and he has never grown -old, except in appearance.” - -Marion put one arm over the burro’s neck and rubbed his nose with her -hand. - -“He loves me,” she said. - -“And I heard a man say once that a burro didn’t have any sense,” -smiled Hashknife. - -Marion colored slightly. - -“They’re the wisest of animals,” declared Sleepy. - -Came the sharp thud of a blow, as if something had struck the burro -with a heavy impact, and the ancient animal dropped as if its legs had -been suddenly yanked from under its body. In fact, its fall was so -sudden that Marion jerked forward, lost her balance, and fell -sprawling across its neck. - -And as she fell, from somewhere back in the hills, came the report of -a rifle shot. It was so sudden, so unexpected, that no one moved for a -moment. Then Hashknife flung himself forward, grasped Marion in his -arms and ran back to the shelter of the bunk-house, with Sleepy and -Jimmy following. - -They stopped against the bunk-house door, staring at each other. -Marion was dazed but unhurt. - -“What was it?” she asked. - -“Yo’re not hurt?” asked Hashknife anxiously. - -“I’m not hurt. I—I just fell down. But what—” - -“Good gosh, that sure was a close one!” exclaimed Sleepy. “Some dirty -coyote—” - -“Shot at me,” finished Jimmy nervously. “That bullet went past my -ear—I felt it.” - -“But—but—” faltered Marion. - -“Stay where yuh are,” cautioned Hashknife. - -He ran into the bunk-house, and came out in a minute, stuffing -cartridges into the loading-gate of one of the ranch rifles. - -“Oh, be careful about showing yourself,” cautioned Marion. - -“Thanks,” grinned Hashknife. - -He moved along the patio wall, slipped out through the gate, while -Sleepy took a rifle from the bunk-house, swearing disgustedly over the -fact that Hashknife had taken all the cartridges. - -“It came from the hill back of us,” said Marion. “Poor old Apollo!” - -“Yeah, he’s a goner,” said Sleepy softly. “Well, that’s about all yuh -ever could do to make him die. If old age was ever goin’ to kill him, -he’d ’a’ died forty years ago.” - -There were tears in Marion’s eyes as she looked at the sprawling -figure of the ancient burro. Worse than useless, he had always been a -part of the Double Bar 8. It was the razing of a landmark. - -Suddenly the ancient one shuddered, lifted its misshapen head and -goggled foolishly. Then it got slowly to unsteady legs, staggered a -few feet, thrust out its head, opened a cavernous mouth, which showed -a few crooked teeth, and brayed defiance to all rifle-shooting -bushwhackers. - -“My ——!” snorted Sleepy. “A rifle can’t even kill it!” - -Marion was laughing and crying alternately, and Sleepy grasped her by -the arm to prevent her from going out to the burro. - -“It just creased him,” explained Sleepy. “See where that blood streak -runs down his neck? That bullet went through his neck just over the -vertebrae, knocked him plumb out for a while, but he’s as good as ever -now.” - -Apollo looked reproachfully at Sleepy, stretched his neck tentatively -and moved over to the shade of the wall, evidently none the worse for -his experience. - -When Hashknife left the patio gate he hugged the wall, circling to the -rear of the bunk-house, from where he ran to the stable. He decided -that the shot had been fired from a point on the hill, near the upper -end of a small cañon. It was about the only spot on that side where a -man could get elevation enough to enable him to see the center of the -patio. - -There was plenty of brush on the slope behind the stable; brush tall -enough to conceal him from any one on the slope; so Hashknife did not -hesitate to head directly for the spot he had in mind. There was no -more shooting, but Hashknife could not be sure that the bushwhacker -had not seen him start from the patio; so when he was half-way up to -the break of the cañon, he went carefully, taking advantage of the -heaviest cover in sight. - -Hashknife realized his own danger. It was almost impossible for him to -move without making a noise in the dry brush. And he did not know what -moment a bullet might search him out. Working to the right, he came to -the cañon rim, where he sprawled under a bush, listening closely. - -Near him a flock of quail scurried about in the brush, their peculiar -call, ventriloquistic, “Sit right there!” echoing back from the -cañon-walls. One of them passed within inches of his rifle muzzle, a -nervously jerking handful of blue and bronze, evidently puzzled at -this sprawled figure of a human, which did not move. - -The quail were working up the slope. Peering beneath the brush, -Hashknife could see the little blue fellows running from cover to -cover, while their calling became more faint. Hashknife slid farther -out on the rim, and was about to get to his feet, when he saw the -flock of quail whir up from the brush, and come hurtling down the -cañon, swinging in below him, scattering badly, and beginning their -warning cries again. - -Something or somebody had disturbed them. Then he heard the sound of -something coming down through the brush toward him. He got to his -haunches, swinging his rifle into position as a horse and rider broke -through the brush, almost against him. - -The black horse snorted wildly, as Hashknife arose, covering the rider -with the rifle. The man jerked back and his hands went above his head, -while the horse surged back. The rider was of medium height, slightly -gray, his bronzed face heavily lined, one cheek bulged with a chew of -tobacco. He quieted the horse, spat explosively and shut one eye as he -looked down at Hashknife. - -“Well?” he said rather defiantly. - -“Not so well,” said Hashknife coldly. He circled the horse, but there -was no rifle in sight. - -“What’s the idea?” queried the man. “That’s what I want to know. Who -are you, pardner?” - -“M’ name’s Goode. G-o-o-d-e. Called ‘Plenty.’” - -“Yeah? Good rifle shot?” - -“Fair.” - -“Uh-huh,” Hashknife considered Mr. Goode. He was not a soft-looking -person. - -“Of course, it’s none of my business, but I’m just curious to know -who, or which one of us, you tried to kill a while ago, Mr. Goode?” - -“Me?” Goode spat thoughtfully. “That’s a queer question, my friend -with the cocked Winchester. ’S far as I remember, I ain’t tried to -kill anybody for a long time.” - -“No-o-o-o?” drawled Hashknife. “I hate to call a man a liar.” - -“Prob’ly,” dryly. “I hate to be called one, when I’ve got my hands in -the air.” - -“Sure. Yuh might care to tell me how yuh happen to be right here about -this time.” - -“Cinch. I’m from the X Bar 6 outfit. Me and Ed Gast was back toward -Yaller Horn Mesa today, and when we’re on our way back I decides to -ride down to the Double Bar 8. Ed went on to Blue Wells; so I cuts a -straight line for here. Satisfied?” - -“But not contented,” said Hashknife. “Just why didja want to come to -the Double Bar 8? You know —— well the three men from that ranch are -in jail at Blue Wells.” - -“Oh, I knowed that all right. But I wanted to get a look at the two -men who are runnin’ the place.” - -“Get a look at ’em, eh?” - -Goode grinned widely, showing his tobacco-stained teeth. - -“I reckon yo’re one of ’em, stranger. Yuh see, I lived at Black Wells -when you and yore pardner cleaned up the Modoc trouble, and I heard a -lot about yuh. I’ve always wanted to thank yore pardner for killin’ -Jud Mahley. It saved me a ca’tridge.” - -Hashknife studied the face of the ex-Black Wells cowboy, but the man -seemed sincere. - -“I want to believe yuh, Goode. But a while ago somebody fired a rifle -up here, and the bullet almost killed a woman in the Double Bar 8 -patio.” - -Goode’s eyes narrowed. - -“And yuh thought I done it, Hartley?” - -“I found yuh here.” - -“Yeah, that’s true. I heard the shot. It wasn’t long ago. But a shot -don’t mean anythin’. I seared up a flock of quail back there on the -hill, and I jist wondered if somebody hadn’t been out tryin’ to get a -meal of ’em.” - -Hashknife lowered his gun and let down the hammer. - -“I’m takin’ you at yore word, Goode,” he said. “There’s got to be a -reason for that shot—and I don’t reckon you’ve got one.” - -“Well, I sure ain’t, Hartley. Any old time I go bushwhackin’, it won’t -be you, nor any of yore friends.” - -“Well, that’s sure thoughtful of yuh. Do yuh know Miss Taylor?” - -“Know who she is. Tex Alden intended to send me and one of the other -boys down here to run this ranch, but when you boys took it, I reckon -he changed his mind.” - -“It didn’t make him mad, did it, Goode?” - -Goode looked curiously at Hashknife, his lips pursed thoughtfully. - -“Well, it hadn’t ought to,” he said slowly. - -Hashknife nodded. He liked Goode for that remark. - -“We might as well go down to the ranch-house,” suggested Hashknife. “I -reckon the shootin’ is all over.” - -“I hope t’ gosh it is, Hartley. That’s nasty business.” - -They went to the ranch-house, where Hashknife introduced Goode to -Sleepy and Jimmy. Marion had gone into the house, but came out a few -minutes later and was introduced. Hashknife explained how he had met -Goode. - -It was possibly a half an hour later that Goode rode away. His -explanation of how he happened to be there on the hill so soon after -the shooting did not satisfy Sleepy. - -“That jigger’s eyes are hard,” declared Sleepy. “Jist like moss-agate. -And he’s from Black Wells, Hashknife.” - -“I _sabe_ that,” smiled Hashknife. “But I don’t think he did fire that -shot. He don’t look like a hired killer, and it’s a cinch he ain’t got -no personal reason for killin’ any of us.” - -“Ain’t he?” Sleepy smiled wisely. “Just suppose Mr. Goode is one of -that gang of train robbers? He knows what we done in the Modoc -country. Figure it out for yourself.” - -Hashknife nodded seriously. - -“Yeah, that might be true. Mebbe he thinks we’re here to work on that -case. I hate to get fooled on humanity, Sleepy. That feller may be -awful slick. He’s either innocent, or smooth as satin, because he sure -had an alibi on the end of his tongue.” - -“But he didn’t have any rifle,” said Jimmy. - -“A rifle is easy to hide,” said Sleepy, shaking his head. “Nossir, I’d -look out for Mr. Goode.” - -“But that shot was fired at me.” Jimmy was not to be denied of his -thrill. “It went right past my ear.” - -“And why would Goode shoot at Jimmy?” questioned Marion. - -Hashknife laughed and picked some of the burrs off his knees. - -“We’ve got to get an answer-book, folks. I’m glad that the heirloom -was only creased. But from now on we’ve got to be mighty careful. -Unless I’m mistaken, that shot was only a beginnin’.” - -“Do you think you ought to stay here?” asked Marion nervously. “I -mean, to take a chance on your lives, just to help me out?” - -Hashknife looked at Jimmy, who dug his heel savagely in the hard -ground, appearing ill at ease. Finally he looked up, noticing that -both Hashknife and Sleepy were waiting for him to answer Marion’s -question. - -“Well,” he said, “as far as I’m concerned, I’ll stay.” - -“Three times—and out,” said Hashknife softly. “They’ve tried twice, -Jimmy.” - -“I know,” seriously. “But,” he grinned and peeled some sunburn off his -nose, “I’m beginnin’ to think that you never will die until your time -comes.” - -“And that thought will sure help yuh win a lot of fights where the -odds are all against yuh, Jimmy,” said Hashknife. - -“Are you a fatalist?” asked Marion. - -“Well,” grinned Hashknife, “if I wasn’t, I’d ’a’ been scared to death -years ago.” - -“I would like to hear about that Modoc affair,” said Jimmy. - -Hashknife shook his head quickly. - -“No, Jimmy. It wasn’t anything. Goode kinda got things twisted. I hope -Carrie Nation gets some food on the table pretty soon.” - -It was like Hashknife to refuse to tell of things they had done. After -he and Sleepy Stevens had joined forces and left the Hashknife outfit, -fate seemed to throw them into troubled waters. Hashknife was either -blessed or cursed with an analytical mind. A range mystery was food -and drink to him. Sleepy’s mind ran in normal channels, but he loved -to roam, and his love of adventure, fearlessness in the face of -danger, made him a valuable ally to Hashknife. - -So for a number of years their trail had led them where the cattle -roamed, working on mysteries; more often than not, working for the -sheer love of the thing, rather than for pay. At times they had -stepped out of a pall of powder smoke, mounted their horses and rode -away ahead of the thanks of those whose future had been made more -bright by their coming. - -“Soldiers of fortune,” a man had called them. - -“Cowpunchers of disaster,” corrected Hashknife. - -And in all their wanderings, the thing uppermost in their minds was to -find the spot where they might be satisfied to settle down and live a -peaceful life; both of them realizing all the while that they would -never be satisfied with peace. Always the other side of the hill -called to them—the irresistible call of the open, of the strange -places, which is always answered by men who can’t sit still. - - - - - XI—THE SHERIFF WONDERS - - -After Goode rode back to Blue Wells he met Lee Barnhardt, who was -taking a drink at the Oasis, and Goode, who was also drinking, told -him of his visit to the Double Bar 8, and of the mysterious shot. The -lawyer was naturally interested and questioned Goode closely, but -Goode knew nothing of who had fired the shot. - -“I met Hartley and Stevens,” offered Goode. “They’re the same two -jiggers that cleaned up that Modoc job.” - -“Detectives?” asked Barnhardt. - -“Oh, I dunno about that part of it. But that ain’t the only job they -ever cleaned up. There’s a lot more behind that one, and I’ll betcha -they’ve not been idle since then. I’m wonderin’ what they’re doin’ -here.” - -“Perhaps they’re working on that train robbery.” - -“Pshaw, that might be it. I’ll buy a drink, Barnhardt.” - -On his way back to the office Barnhardt met Le Moyne. - -“What ever happened to that detective the Santa Rita was going to put -on that robbery?” asked Barnhardt. - -Le Moyne smiled. - -“Why, I guess the company didn’t think it was worth while, as long as -you folks had jailed some one for doing the job.” - -Barnhardt laughed softly, knowingly. - -“That’s all right, Chet. But when you hire detectives, why don’t you -get men whose reputations are not so well known?” - -Le Moyne looked him over coldly. - -“What do you mean, Lee?” - -“Oh, I respect your secrecy. But really, Hartley and Stevens are too -well known to do much good.” - -“Eh?” Le Moyne frowned heavily. “Those two men at the Taylor ranch?” - -“Sure. The two best man hunters you could have hired. But it’s a case -of them being too well known.” - -“Yeah?” Le Moyne smiled thinly. “Too well known, eh? But don’t blame -me—I’m not the Santa Rita company.” - -“That’s true.” - -“Personally, I know nothing about their reputation, Lee.” - -“You don’t? Well, I don’t know very much, but I do know that they’ve -never lost a case. I’d hate to have them on my trail.” - -“Well,” Le Moyne shrugged his shapely shoulders, “it seems as though -we had hired two very good men, Lee.” - -“You have.” Barnhardt laughed and grew confidential. “Tex Alden is as -sore as a boil. He didn’t want them two men to stay at the ranch. He -intended to run the ranch himself.” - -“He did, eh?” Le Moyne scowled. “Yeah, I suppose he would. I’m glad he -missed out on that. And I’m glad the sheriff and the railroad -detective had to make that arrest. It rather lets me out of any blame -in the matter, you see.” - -“Certainly.” - -“They’ve got plenty of help at the Double Bar 8,” said Barnhardt, -after a pause. “That tenderfoot, Jimmy Legg, who was at the AK ranch, -has volunteered his services. Tex sure is sore at him.” - -“Sore at Legg? What for?” - -“Well, Tex thinks Marion pays too much attention to Legg.” - -“Well, does she?” - -“I don’t know, Chet. She calls him Jimmy, and he calls her Marion.” - -“Does, eh? Say, Lee, where did that fellow come from?” - -“Nobody seems to know. He tramped in here the night of the hold-up. He -said the train passed him. I can’t quite figure him out. I’ve talked -with Scotty Olson and Al Porter about him, and they’re not quite sure -what he is. He’s not a bad looking fellow, and I think he has a way -with women.” - -“What do you mean by that?” - -“Well, you know, Chet; sort of a way of talking.” - -“Yea-a-ah, I guess I know what you mean,” sighed Le Moyne. “I’ll see -you later, Lee.” - -Barnhardt went back to his office, glowing with the self satisfaction -that comes to men who love to gossip. Le Moyne met Goode at the Oasis, -and Goode was carrying just a little too much liquor. Goode happened -to be extolling Hashknife and Sleepy to the bartender, who evidently -didn’t care a bit about it. - -“I tell yuh, they’re invin-shi-ble,” he declared. “Bes’ pair of -two-handed fighters on earth. Betcha odds, tha’s what’ll do.” - -“Hello, Plenty,” said Le Moyne. - -Goode goggled at Le Moyne. - -“Howza paymashter? Whatcha usin’ f’r money these days, Chet?” - -“Good yellow gold, Plenty. What do you want to bet on?” - -“Don’t get him started,” advised the bartender. “He’s drunk. Wants to -bet odds that Hartley and Stevens will find the men who robbed your -pay-roll.” - -Le Moyne laughed and bought a drink for every one at the bar. - -“I’m tellin’ yuh,” declared Goode. “’F they was after me, I’d run like -——, and pray every jump.” - -“Bad men, eh?” asked Le Moyne, laughing. - -“Wors’ you ever sheen! Gun-shootin’ mind-readers. Yesshir. Oh, you’ll -shee.” - -He pointed a wavering finger in the direction of the bartender. - -“Betcha oddsh. Betcha anythin’—” - -Goode waved his arm, as if to encompass everything, and sat down on -the bar-rail, where he began snoring. - -“Can’t stand much,” said the bartender. “Give him ten drinks of hooch, -and he’s plumb gone. Know anythin’ about Hartley and Stevens?” - -Le Moyne smiled and his brows lifted slightly. - -“You knew the Santa Rita had detectives on the case, didn’t you?” - -“Oh, I did hear they was goin’ to. What’ll yuh drink, Chet?” - -“Same thing. I wonder where Goode found out so much about those two -men?” - -“I don’t know. He’s been out to the Double Bar 8 to see ’em, and when -he came back he met Al Porter here. They had a few shots of hooch, and -Goode told Al all about ’em. The more drinks he took, the more he -told. After Al went away, Barnhardt came in, and Goode told it all -over again. When Barnhardt went out, I was the victim. You’re lucky he -went to sleep.” - -“I suppose I am,” laughed Le Moyne. “It appears that the Double Bar 8 -is well taken care of right now. Did any one find out who shot that -tenderfoot kid the other night?” - -“Never tried to, I reckon. The kid went back to the AK.” - -“He’s over at the Taylor place now.” - -“Is that so?” - -“That’s what I heard.” - -“Oh, sure; I heard that too. You heard about somebody takin’ a shot at -the gang at the Double Bar 8, didn’t yuh?” - -Le Moyne hadn’t; so the bartender told him what he had heard Goode -tell Barnhardt. It was interesting to Le Moyne, inasmuch as the bullet -nearly struck Marion. - -“That sure beats ——!” snorted Le Moyne. “What kind of a country is -this getting to be? I wonder,” he squinted thoughtfully, “if that shot -was fired at Legg, the tenderfoot?” - -“Might have been. What’ll yuh have, Chet?” - -“Nothing; I’ve had enough.” - -Le Moyne turned his back to the bar, while he rolled and lighted a -cigaret, his eyes thoughtful. Scotty Olson came in and spoke to Le -Moyne as he walked past, but the handsome paymaster of the Santa Rita -did not reply. Finally he walked out, mounted his horse and rode away. - -The sheriff came back to the bar. - -“What’s the matter with Le Moyne?” he asked of the bartender. - -“I dunno.” The bartender rested his elbows on the bar, chewing on his -cigar. “I told him about the bushwhacker out at the Double Bar 8 -almost killin’ Marion Taylor, and I suppose Le Moyne is sore about -it.” - -“Al Porter was tellin’ me about it,” nodded the sheriff. “I don’t -_sabe_ it.” - -“You’d be a wonder if yuh did, Scotty. This country is getting pretty -salty, don’tcha know it? First a train robbery, then an attempted -murder on the main street, and now they’re shootin’ from the hills.” - -“And what for?” wailed the sheriff. “My ——, I do hate a mystery!” - -“Sure yuh do, Scotty. What’ll yuh drink? See-gar? Sure. These ought to -be good. Paid five dollars for that box of ’em three years ago. Pretty -dry? Well, my ——, you’d be dry, too, if yuh was kept in a box in -Arizona for three years. What-cha suppose anybody’s tryin’ to kill off -Legg for?” - -“I didn’t know they was.” - -“Somebody shot at him the other night, didn’t they? And Goode says -that shot was fired at him today.” - -“He ought to go away,” said Scotty, looking gloomily at his cigar, -which seemed to be trying to expand into a rose, or a cabbage. - -He flung it in a cuspidor, and smoothed his huge mustache. - -“We never had no trouble around here until he came,” said Scotty. -“He’s a hoodoo, that —— tenderfoot!” - -“How’s that dog comin’ along, Scotty?” - -“First class. It bit me once, and Al Porter twice.” - -“Ha, ha, ha, ha! Don’t like officers, eh?” - -“Takes after his owner, I reckon. Gimme somethin’ to take the taste of -that cigar out of my mouth.” - -The sheriff drank a glass of liquor and scowled at Plenty Goode, who -still sat on the bar-rail, snoring blissfully. - -“Don’t wake him up,” pleaded the bartender. “When that jigger gets on -one subject, he never knows when to quit.” - -“I ain’t goin’ to wake him up,” wearily. “I suppose I’d better go out -to the Double Bar 8 and investigate that shooting. It won’t do no -good, though. I’ve got more prisoners now than I know what to do with. -Three of ’em—and a —— dog! I wish I wasn’t the sheriff.” - -“Well, cheer up, Scotty; somebody will prob’ly kill yuh very soon, and -then yore troubles will all be over.” - -“I s’pose that’s true.” - -The sheriff went back to his office, where he found Porter cleaning a -Winchester. - -“Hear anythin’ new?” growled Porter. - -“No. Reckon there’s any use investigatin’ that shootin’ at the Taylor -ranch?” - -Porter inserted a piece of white paper in the breech of the rifle, and -squinted down the barrel. - -“With two of the smartest detectives already there?” he replied. -“You’d find out a —— of a lot, wouldn’t yuh?” - -“Mebbe that’s right. I understand they’re hired by Le Moyne, or by the -Santa Rita mine.” - -“Mm-m-m-m-m,” Porter reached for the oil-can and proceeded to -lubricate the mechanism. - -“I dunno how a detective can ever find out who held up that train, if -he spends all his time runnin’ a ranch,” said the sheriff. - -“Not bein’ a detective, I don’t know,” said Porter coldly. “And what’s -a lot more I don’t care a ——!” - - - - - XII—JIMMY TAKES A SHOT - - -For the next three days nothing startling happened at the Double Bar -8, except that Jimmy Legg labored hard with the intricacies of a rope, -which invariably tangled around his legs, and a six-shooter, which -seemed to ignore the target entirely. - -Hashknife and Sleepy humped against the patio wall, absorbing many -cigarets, while they solemnly gave advice to Jimmy, and marveled that -any man could shoot away so much ammunition and never hit anything. - -But Jimmy was persistent. He banged away merrily, satisfied if his -bullet came within two feet of a tomato-can, at twenty feet, trying to -follow Hashknife’s advice to shoot low. Apollo, the burro, entirely -recovered from his creasing, humped back in the shade of the patio -wall, and watched Jimmy with solemn dignity, jerking his one good ear -convulsively at each report of the heavy Colt. - -Nanah had watched with interest from the door of the ranch-house, -until a misdirected bullet smashed through a window near her, after -which she lost interest in Jimmy’s marksmanship. - -Hashknife and Sleepy rounded up several head of Double Bar 8 horses, -getting Marion’s opinion on them as a remuda for the coming round-up, -and also trying them out. As a result, both of the cowboys were stiff -and sore from the unaccustomed shaking which is usually meted out to a -rider by horses which have not been ridden for months. Jimmy Legg had -tried one, and then retired to the liniment bottle. - -Marion decided to ride to Blue Wells, and Jimmy immediately offered to -ride with her. Jimmy had not been away from the ranch since the -mysterious bullet had nearly robbed him of an ear, and he was anxious -to go to town. Regardless of the fact that his torn scalp had not been -dressed by a doctor, it was doing very nicely, and he was able to do -away with the bandage. - -He and Marion did not indulge in much conversation on the way to Blue -Wells, because of the fact that most of Jimmy’s time was occupied in -handling his mount. - -“This is rather embarrassing,” he told Marion. “I start to say -something to you, when this fool horse goes off across the country. -I’d rather be thrown off than to have my conversation interrupted -every time.” - -“But you’re learning,” declared Marion. - -“I hope so,” dubiously. - -“Jimmy, does it mean so much to you—to be a cowboy?” - -Jimmy reined his horse back into the road, clutched his hat just in -time to save it, and nodded violently. - -“You bet! Say, it means an awful lot to me, Marion. Darn it, the more -I think about it, the more it means.” - -Marion did not question him any further, as they rode down the main -street of Blue Wells. Marion dismounted at the sheriff’s office, but -Jimmy rode on to the Oasis hitch-rack, where he had seen several AK -horses tied. - -At the Oasis bar he found Johnny Grant, Eskimo Swensen, Oyster Shell -and Tex Alden. Johnny fell upon him with a war-whoop of joy and -dragged him to the bar, while Eskimo and Oyster pounded him on the -shoulders and examined his scalp, much in the way of a pair of -monkeys, gibbering the while. - -Tex turned away without speaking and walked outside, while the AK gang -leaned Johnny against the bar and demanded loudly of the bartender -that he work fast. They questioned Jimmy about the shooting at the -Double Bar 8, and his progress as a cowpuncher. In fact, the questions -came too fast for Jimmy to answer. But after the second drink he -managed to catch his breath, and told them some of the happenings. But -he would not drink any more. - -“I’ve got to ride back to the ranch,” he told them solemnly. “I -brought Miss Taylor to town, and she is down at the jail, visiting -with her folks.” - -The two drinks had made Jimmy rather expansive and he told them about -his roping and shooting lessons; which caused the AK boys to double up -with mirth. - -“We was goin’ to stop at yore place on the way back,” said Johnny -Grant. “Bonnette said to tell Miss Taylor that her outfit can use from -our wagons. There’s plenty of room for all the bed-rolls, and three -extra men ain’t goin’ to kill off our cook.” - -“Well, that certainly is thoughtful of him,” said Jimmy. “I know Miss -Taylor will appreciate it.” - -“Aw, you better have one more drink,” urged Eskimo. “One more won’t -hurt yuh none.” - -“Well,” Jimmy smiled expansively, “I suppose not. But I’ll buy this -one.” - -All of which was acceptable, as it had been long enough since pay-day -to find the AK boys in financial straits. They drank a health to -Jimmy, and all walked outside. The main street of Blue Wells drowsed -in the afternoon sun. A few men humped in shady spots, whittling, -discussing nothing much in particular. Even the horses at the -hitch-racks drowsed. - -Suddenly a commotion started at the sheriff’s office. It was not a big -commotion, but plainly audible on the silent street. A yellowish-red -dog darted out of the office door, whirled around once, as if to get -its bearings, and trotted up the street, looking back. - -Out of the door came Al Porter. He had a heavy dish in his right hand. -Only for a moment did he hesitate, and then started toward the dog, -running stiffly, swearing. The dog was Geronimo, the Exhibit A, in the -case of the State of Arizona versus the Taylor Outfit. - -Running as fast as he was capable, Porter hurled the dish at the dog. -But his aim was very faulty, which was attested to by a splintering of -window-glass from the front of Louie Sing’s restaurant. - -The AK gang whooped with mirth. Jimmy Legg, forgetting that ownership -of Geronimo might cause complications, ran across the street toward -Porter, yelling at him to let the dog alone. Geronimo stopped in an -angle between the end of a bench and the wall of Moon’s store, and -anxiously watched Porter, who had picked up several rocks about the -size of eggs, and was preparing to bombard the dog. - -Jimmy’s three drinks had made him reckless. - -“You let that dog alone!” yelped Jimmy. - -He was about twenty feet away from the swearing, perspiring Porter, -who paused long enough to consign Jimmy to a place which was even more -arid than Death Valley. - -“By ——, I’ll learn that dog to bite me!” he roared. “I’ll smash in his -—— skull!” - -The first rock struck the end of the bench and glanced into Geronimo, -who yelped more from fright than actual distress. - -“Stop that, you dirty coyote!” yelled Jimmy. - -Porter let fly with another rock, which narrowly missed breaking one -of the store windows, and whirled angrily toward Jimmy. - -“Who’s a coyote?” he snorted. - -His right hand swung back to the butt of his gun. It is barely -possible that Jimmy’s three drinks had ruined his perspective, because -he whipped out his gun and shot at Porter, almost before his hand -swung away from his hip. - -The enraged deputy was off balance, unprepared, his right foot lifted, -as he had been following the swing of his throwing-arm. And at the -crack of Jimmy’s gun, his feet seemed to jerk from under him and he -came down in the hard street with a crash. - -Jimmy stood there in the street, dangling the gun in his hand, while -Porter sprawled on his back, his knees jerking. The dog came running -toward Jimmy, barking joyfully, and almost knocked Jimmy down. - -“Good ——, go away!” panted Jimmy. “Gug-go away!” - -The three boys from the AK ran past Jimmy, going straight to Porter. -The sheriff and Marion were coming from the office, while it seemed to -Jimmy that the rest of the world spewed out of every doorway. Then he -lost his nerve. Whirling on his heel, he ran to the hitch-rack, -mounted his horse and went flailing off down the street, followed by -Geronimo, barking wildly. - -Porter got slowly to his feet, holding one hand against his head, his -face a mixture of anger and wonderment. - -“Where’d he hit yuh?” - -“What was the matter?” - -“Who shot yuh?” - -Questions were fired at Porter, who groaned dismally and shoved the -anxious sheriff away. - -“That —— fool!” quavered Porter. “Who’d ever think he’d shoot? I was -plumb off balance—kinda on one heel—and his bullet—take a look at it.” - -Porter held up his foot and they beheld the reason for the deputy’s -sudden drop. The heavy bullet had smashed into the high heel, almost -into the counter, and the impact had knocked Porter’s sole prop from -under him. And Porter had hit his head a resounding whack against the -ground, which accounted for the fact that Porter stayed down a while. - -“And he stole the dog!” exclaimed the sheriff. - -“The dog stole him,” amended Johnny Grant. - -“I hope t’ —— he keeps him!” groaned Porter. “I’m all through with -that dog, evidence or no evidence.” - -“But we’ve got to have that dog, Al,” insisted the sheriff. “That’s -our main evidence.” - -“Then you get him and do the feedin’. I never hired out as a —— -menagerie keeper. He bit me on the wrist, and when I kicked at him, he -bit me on the ankle and got loose.” - -Tex Alden was one of those who had come from Moon’s store, and now he -spoke to the sheriff: - -“Just why did that dog pull out with Legg?” - -“Why, I dunno, Tex,” admitted the sheriff. - -“Why did Legg defend the dog?” - -The sheriff looked blankly around. - -“I dunno that either, Tex.” - -“All right,” Tex smiled crookedly and shrugged his shoulders. He -looked at Marion, but did not speak, and turned away. - -“What’ll yuh do to that kid, Al?” asked one of the men. - -“Do to him?” Porter took it under advisement. “I dunno. He might ’a’ -been right. I was so —— mad that I dunno just how things was.” - -“You reached back for a gun,” reminded Eskimo, and the other three AK -cowboys nodded in confirmation. - -“Yuh did, Al,” said Johnny. - -“All right,” nodded Porter. “Mebbe I did.” - -“And the kid thought yuh was goin’ to draw on him,” offered Oyster -Shell. - -“Well, what the —— is all the argument about?” snarled the deputy. -“I’ll admit he was right. But,” Porter mustered a smile, “I hope that -—— dog bites him when he gits off that horse.” - -All of which ended all arguments as far as the guilt or innocence of -Jimmy Legg was concerned—although Jimmy Legg, running his horse back -toward the Double Bar 8, considered himself a deep-dyed killer. - -He imagined that a posse was already on his trail, and once he saw -Geronimo far back in the road, just topping a rise, and his -imagination conjured up a dozen armed men, hot on his trail. The -shooting had made him cold sober, but the taste of liquor was still on -his palate. - -His future was indefinite, because his thoughts ran in circles. He -could see the big deputy, lying flat in the street, his knees jerking. -Everything else was blotted out by that picture. He tried to remember -just why he had fired the shot, but it was like a half-forgotten -dream—something that had happened long ago. - -His horse was plastered with lather, when he rode in at the patio gate -and dismounted near the well. Hashknife and Sleepy were just coming -from the ranch-house door, realizing from the condition of the horse -that something was wrong. - -“What’s wrong, Jimmy?” asked Hashknife. - -Jimmy flapped his arms weakly, and there was a decided catch in his -throat. - -“I just killed the deputy sheriff,” he said. - -Hashknife stepped closer and grasped Jimmy by a shoulder. - -“You done what?” - -Jimmy gulped and nodded. - -“Ye-yes, I did. I—I—” - -“Take it easy, kid,” said Hashknife. “Set down here on the curb and -tell us about it.” - -“I can’t,” Jimmy shook his head nervously. “I’ve got to keep going. -They’re after me, don’t you see?” - -“All right, kid. If they’re after you, this is a fine place for ’em to -get you.” - -“But I can’t stay here, Hashknife.” - -“Sure yuh can, Jimmy. Let’s talk it over. Runnin’ away won’t help yuh -none. You’d lose out.” - -Geronimo came into the patio, dust-covered, his tongue hanging out, -tail wagging. Jimmy had set a hot pace from town, but the dog had -found him. He sat down on his haunches in front of Jimmy and put a paw -on Jimmy’s knee. - -“Where’d the dog come from?” asked Sleepy. - -Jimmy looked at Geronimo, and Geronimo looked at Jimmy. - -“He is my dog,” said Jimmy slowly. “It’s the dog they had in jail—the -evidence against Taylor.” - -“Your dog, Jimmy?” asked Hashknife. - -“Oh, yes,” Jimmy nodded slowly. “You see, I was afraid to tell -anybody.” - -“All right,” said Hashknife. “Now, tell us about the killin’ of the -deputy sheriff, Jimmy.” - -And Jimmy told them, while the two cowboys asked a question here and -there to clarify things somewhat. - -“Well, it looks to me as if it was a case of self-defense,” said -Hashknife, when Jimmy had finished his story. - -“He really reached for his gun,” said Jimmy. “I realized it.” - -“What I’d like to know is, how in —— did yuh ever hit him?” queried -Sleepy. - -“I—I suppose it was because he’s larger than a tin can.” - -“Where do yuh reckon yuh hit him?” - -“Oh, I don’t know,” wailed Jimmy. “It must have been through the -heart, because he fell down so quickly—and his knees were jerking.” - -“That’s good shootin’, for the first time,” said Sleepy dryly. “Where -is Marion?” - -“Oh, I forgot her! I must have been excited.” - -“You prob’ly would be,” agreed Hashknife. “What I want you to do right -now is to tell me all about ownin’ this dog.” - -“Oh, yes, about the dog,” Jimmy jerked nervously at the sound of a -noise outside the patio gate, but it was only Apollo, rubbing his -shoulder against the wall. - -Jimmy sighed deeply. - -“I suppose that was a dirty trick. But when I found out that—that the -dog was supposed to belong to a robber, I was afraid to claim him. He -ran away from me that night in Blue Wells, you see.” - -And then James Eaton Legg went ahead and told them about his -experience with the express messenger. Hashknife grinned, when Jimmy -told of that battle in the express car, and of how the messenger had -described him as being a big, burly man, who tried to draw a gun. - -“His lyin’ saves you a lot of trouble,” said Hashknife, when Jimmy had -finished his tale. “He didn’t want anybody to think he had been -whipped by a smaller man.” - -“I suppose so; but I’ll go to town and tell ’em that the dog belongs -to me. I might as well shoulder it all now.” - -“I wish yuh wouldn’t,” said Hashknife. “Let things ride as they are -for a while. If they arrest yuh for shootin’ the deputy, mebbe yuh can -make a self-defense out of it. Yuh say that the AK boys saw it? -They’ll prob’ly alibi yuh, ’cause they don’t like the sheriff. Under -the circumstances a man could lie a little and not bend his conscience -too much.” - -“Yuh should have stayed and seen the finish,” said Sleepy. “It would -’a’ looked better.” - -“I know it,” Jimmy sighed wearily. “But all I could think about was to -run away. I’ve never killed a man before.” - -“Prob’ly the first time he ever was killed, too.” - -“Oh, don’t joke about it! It’s a terrible thing.” - -“Pshaw, I wasn’t jokin’, Jimmy.” - -“I know, but—” - -A horse swung in through the patio gate, and Jimmy almost fell off the -curb; but it was only Marion. She looked at Jimmy and began laughing. -Geronimo barked joyfully and tried to jump up to her stirrup. - -But Jimmy only stared at her blankly, his mouth open. - -“What’s the joke?” asked Hashknife seriously. - -“Dud-don’t laugh,” pleaded Jimmy. “It isn’t anything to laugh about.” - -Between chuckles of merriment Marion managed to tell them what Jimmy -had done, while Jimmy, his eyes and mouth wide open, leaned against -the curb, gasping like a fish out of water. - -Marion described how Jimmy had ridden out of Blue Wells, followed by -the dog, and Sleepy cried against the shoulder of her horse. But Jimmy -was too relieved to laugh. - -“Well,” he said solemnly, “I guess I’ll have to pick something bigger -than a man next time. Really, there should be something big enough for -me to hit.” - -“You ought to attack a fort,” laughed Sleepy. - -They unsaddled Marion’s horse, while Jimmy took care of his own -exhausted mount. He was so happy that he tried to take the saddle off -without uncinching it. - -“I expect the sheriff will be out here soon,” Marion told them. “He -wants that dog. It bit Al Porter twice today, but they’ve got to keep -it for evidence.” - -“They don’t know it’s here,” said Hashknife. “Let’s hide it.” - -“Hide it? But that wouldn’t be lawful.” - -“It isn’t lawful to hold yore folks on that kind of evidence, either. -Where can we put the dog.” - -“In the cellar,” suggested Sleepy. “The one beneath the kitchen.” - -“But won’t they search?” - -“Prob’ly. Put a rug over the trap-door, and they’ll never see it.” - -It did not take them long to dump Geronimo into the cellar, where -Sleepy made him a good bed and put in a bucket of water. The dog -accepted his new quarters without any protest, and Nanah grinned when -she put an old rug over the trap-door, and moved over a table to rest -on it. - -The three men were in the bunk-house when the sheriff showed up, about -thirty minutes later. He looked around the patio, expecting to see the -dog, and dismounted. Hashknife shook hands with him. Jimmy did not put -in an appearance. - -“You heard what happened in town, didn’t yuh?” asked the sheriff. -Hashknife agreed that he had. - -“It ended all right,” remarked the sheriff. “Except that the main -exhibit of the Taylor case followed Legg out of town.” - -“What exhibit was that?” - -“The dog. Legg came here, didn’t he?” - -“Oh, yeah. But I don’t know anythin’ about the dog. Jimmy said the -trouble started over a dog, and Miss Taylor said the dog followed -Jimmy out of Blue Wells, but it prob’ly went back.” - -“Yea-a-a-ah? Went back—where?” - -“Why, to Blue Wells.” - -“I don’t think so, Hartley.” - -“Didja search the town?” - -The sheriff, of course, hadn’t. He had taken it for granted that the -dog followed Legg all the way to the Double Bar 8, and upon sober -reflection on his part it was reasonable to suppose that the dog had -stopped and turned back to town. - -“The kid was kinda scared, wasn’t he?” asked the sheriff. - -“Naturally would be,” grinned Hashknife. “He thought he had killed -Porter.” - -“I dunno how he ever missed hittin’ Al some’ers beside in the heel. -They wasn’t twenty feet apart. That derned tenderfoot is goin’ to kill -somebody before he gits through. He’s comin’ closer every time. By -golly, I dodge every time I see him. He’s such a bad shot that he -worries me.” - -As they were laughing over Jimmy’s markmanship, Lee Barnhardt rode in -on his sway-backed mount and dismounted beside them. - -“You rode too fast for me,” he told the sheriff. “I saw you start out, -but you didn’t stop when I yelled.” - -“I didn’t hear yuh, Lee.” - -Marion came from the house, and Barnhardt took some mail from his -pocket, which he gave to her. - -“The postmaster said you forgot to get it,” he said. “I was coming -out; so I brought it.” - -The mail consisted of a few circulars and a weekly newspaper. - -“I asked for mail for you boys,” Barnhardt told Hashknife. - -“We’re not likely to get any,” smiled Hashknife. “Thank yuh just the -same.” - -Barnhardt turned to the sheriff. - -“What about that dog?” - -“Not here. Mebbe it never left town, Lee. Yo’re not worryin’ are yuh?” - -“Not me. I’d be just as well satisfied if it never came back.” - -“That’s what I thought. Are yuh ready to ride back?” - -The lawyer shook his head. - -“I’m in no hurry, Scotty.” - -“Well, I am. So long, folks.” - -Jimmy ventured out after the sheriff had gone, and wanted to know -everything the sheriff had said. He was so glad to know that the law -was not on his trail that he even spoke pleasantly to Lee Barnhardt. - -Marion went in the house, and Sleepy sat down in the shade with Jimmy, -leaving Hashknife with the lawyer. - -“Naturally, we are both working in the interests of the Taylor -family,” said the lawyer confidentially. “Now, I’d like to know what -progress you have made in your observations.” - -Hashknife looked at him keenly. - -“I don’t reckon I understand yuh, Barnhardt.” - -“No?” Barnhardt smiled knowingly. “For your own information I will say -that Chet Le Moyne admitted your connections with the Santa Rita -mining company.” - -“He did, eh?” Hashknife was wearing his poker face now. - -“Yes. It is rather difficult to keep a thing like that from becoming -common knowledge. Folks naturally wondered what your business might -be.” - -“I suppose,” seriously. “But I don’t reckon it makes much difference, -does it?” - -“Oh, no. I have not mentioned it to any one; but I was curious to know -what you had found out, because I am anxious for any new development -which will serve my clients.” - -“Well, I can’t tell yuh much. In fact, I can’t tell yuh anythin’.” - -“Anything you told me would be in strictest confidence.” - -“Yeah, I realize that.” - -But although the Blue Wells lawyer waited patiently, the tall cowboy -remained silent. Then— - -“Just an inkling of what you are doing would serve to cheer up my -clients.” - -Hashknife shifted his position and looked Barnhardt squarely in the -eye. The level stare of the cold-eyed cowboy caused Barnhardt’s gaze -to shift. He had the uncomfortable feeling that Hashknife could read -his mind. - -“Barnhardt,” said Hashknife earnestly, “do you think I’m a —— fool?” - -“Oh, no; not at all. Well,” Barnhardt turned away, “I suppose I may as -well go back. No hard feelings, I hope. Being in charge of the Taylor -defense, I would naturally be interested in any new developments in -the case.” - -Barnhardt mounted his sway-backed horse and rode away, his elbows -flapping, his trouser-legs crawling up. About a mile from the Double -Bar 8 he drew rein and let his horse walk slowly along the dusty road, -while he took an envelope from his pocket. - -The flap had already been torn loose. He drew out the letter and -perused it closely. The envelope, postmarked Chicago, was addressed to -H. Hartley, Blue Wells, Arizona, and the letter read: - - Dear Sir: A wire from us to James Eaton Legg, San Francisco, - California, brought a reply from his former place of residence - to the effect that Mr. Legg had left there and had left his - forwarding address as Blue Wells, Arizona. This may be a - coincidence, or it may be because of some former information. - Trusting that you will be able to furnish us with valuable - information soon, we beg to remain, - Sincerely yours, - Leesom & Brand. - -Barnhardt’s lips were shut tightly and the muscles of his jaw bulged -as he tore the letter into tiny fragments, swung his horse off the -road and scattered the bits of paper into a mesquite tangle. He turned -in his saddle and looked back toward the Double Bar 8, as he reined -his horse back to the road. - -“Hashknife Hartley,” he said earnestly, “do you think I’m a —— fool?” - -But whether Hashknife did, or didn’t—Barnhardt had no way of knowing. -He could only guess, and possibly he guessed wrong. At any rate he -rode back to Blue Wells in a black frame of mind, and the first man he -met was Chet Le Moyne. - -“I’ve just been out to the Double Bar 8,” he told Le Moyne. “And I had -a talk with your detectives.” - -“You did, eh. What did they tell you?” - -“That would be telling, Chet. I told them I knew they were working for -the Santa Rita.” - -“Yeah?” coldly. “And then?” - -“Oh, they didn’t deny it. But I don’t think they’ve found out very -much.” - -“Possibly not.” - -Le Moyne watched Barnhardt ride down to his office, tie his horse, and -go inside. The face of the handsome paymaster twisted angrily, as his -gloomy eyes squinted against the sun. - -“I wonder if Barnhardt is just a plain —— fool, or—” - -Le Moyne shook his head and went on his way. - - * * * * * - -That evening Hashknife, Sleepy and Jimmy rode to Blue Wells. There -were few people in town, and while Jimmy and Sleepy played pool at the -Oasis saloon, Hashknife found the sheriff at his office. The sheriff -was pleasant and curious, especially when Hashknife talked over with -him the evidence in the Taylor case. - -The subject of the AK boys’ locking the sheriff in his own cell came -up, and the sheriff explained that the reason no one discovered his -plight was because Al Porter, the deputy, was at Encinas, visiting a -girl, and did not get back until morning. - -“Does that Santa Rita pay-roll come in at the same time every month?” -asked Hashknife. - -“I dunno.” - -“They say that the paymaster always takes the money from here to the -mine.” - -“I reckon he does.” - -“And somebody would have to know it was comin’ that day.” - -“Oh, they must ’a’ knowed about it, Hartley.” - -“How would Taylor have found it out?” - -“That’s hard to say. Chet Le Moyne, the paymaster, is kinda sweet on -Miss Taylor, and—” - -“And he might have told her, eh?” - -“I don’t say he did, Hartley.” - -“But for the sake of an argument, it could ’a’ happened. She might ’a’ -mentioned the fact that Chet was comin’ in to get the pay-roll, eh? Is -that what yuh was thinkin’?” - -“Mebbe.” The sheriff did not want to commit himself. - -“And this Le Moyne was at the depot to get the pay-roll?” - -“Yeah. He was here earlier in the evenin’, and somebody said he went -out to see Miss Taylor.” - -“But he was at the depot to get the money, was he?” - -“Yeah.” - -“And you think there was four men in on the deal?” - -“Sure. The fourth one got on at Encinas. It was his job to put the -messenger out of commission, I reckon.” - -“This happened out where the AK road turns off the Encinas road, near -the railroad track, I understand. They cut the express car loose from -the rest of the train, ran it up there, blew the safe and got the -money. The engine crew say they had sort of a battle with ’em, after -they left the car. Then the engine crew ran the engine and express car -back to where they had cut loose from the rest of the train, picked it -up and came on to Blue Wells. Is that it?” - -“Yeah, that’s what happened.” - -“This express messenger and the man who got on the car at Encinas -fought in the car, but finally fell out. Do yuh know if this was -before or after the train was cut in two?” - -The sheriff cogitated deeply. - -“I never did hear, but—say, it must ’a’ been after the train was -broken, because they picked up the messenger on their way to here. -Yessir, it must ’a’ been after they cut off the express car, because -that messenger sure was picked up. He never walked to the train.” - -“The messenger described the man who fought him, didn’t he?” - -“Well, he said it was a big, husky sort of a feller. I don’t think -there’s any question about him bein’ one of the gang. He used that dog -as a reason for gettin’ on that car.” - -“They why did he walk to the scene of the robbery, take the dog from -the express car and disappear?” - -“Prob’ly scared that some one would recognize the dog?” - -“The messenger and engine crew had already seen it. If it belonged to -Taylor, do yuh reckon they’d take the dog back to their ranch, where -any one could find it?” - -The sheriff twisted his mustache thoughtfully. This was something he -had not thought about. - -“Anybody would recognize that dog,” said Hashknife. - -“Yore argument sounds pretty good,” admitted the sheriff. “But it -don’t make much difference, because we can’t find that dog. Al Porter -is glad, I suppose. The darn thing hates him. Bit him every time it -had a chance. Growls every time he shows up.” - -“You’ll have to find the dog before the trial, won’t yuh?” - -“I s’pose the prosecutin’ attorney will raise —— if it ain’t here. -Still, it’s been identified; so that prob’ly won’t make a lot of -difference.” - -“What became of Wade, the railroad detective?” - -“Oh, he went back. Yuh see, he decided that Taylor was guilty; so -there wasn’t anythin’ more for him to do here.” - -Hashknife went back to the saloon, and they made it a three-handed -game of pool. It was about nine o’clock when they decided to go back -to the ranch, as there was no excitement at all in Blue Wells. The -moonlight was so bright that, following Hashknife’s suggestion, they -rode in single file, about fifty feet apart. - -That shot from the hills had made Hashknife cautious, and he knew that -three riders, bunched, would make an easy target in that moonlight. -But their return was uneventful, except that there were no lights in -the windows of the ranch-house. - -“That sure looks all wrong,” declared Hashknife. - -“Mebbe not,” said Sleepy. “Marion and Nanah might be enjoyin’ the -moonlight.” - -“They might, but we’ll play safe by thinkin’ they’re not.” - -The three men dismounted a hundred yards from the house and went -cautiously to the patio gate. There was not a sound. The rear of the -ranch-house flung a long shadow across the patio. Hashknife watched -and listened for a while, and then strode boldly inside. A door -creaked, and they heard Marion’s voice— - -“Is that you, Hashknife?” she spoke softly. - -“It sure is,” replied Hashknife. “What’s the matter?” - -“Come here.” - -They went softly across the patio and up to the door, where she let -them in. They could see the silhouette of Nanah against a window, -where she was watching. Marion closed the door softly. - -“There wasn’t any light,” said Hashknife. - -“Nanah saw you leave your horses,” said Marion. “She knew who it was. -About half an hour ago Nanah and I were sitting on the back porch in -the moonlight. It was wonderful out there, but it was getting cool; so -we came in. There were no lamps lighted. - -“And Nanah swears she saw a man looking in the window, where she is -now. I told her she must be seeing things, but she persisted. So we -did not light a lamp. We watched and watched, but the man did not come -back. I went to the rear door and opened it a little. It squeaks a -little, you know. Then I saw a man cross the patio. He was all humped -up, and it seemed to me as though he had been looking in the window of -the bunk-house. I can’t be sure about it. I’m sure he did not suspect -that I had seen him, because he stopped in the gateway for quite a -while. Then he stepped into the shadow on the other side of the wall.” - -“How long ago was this?” asked Hashknife. - -“Not over thirty minutes ago.” - -“He must have been lookin’ for us,” grinned Sleepy. - -“And if he seen us sneak in here he’ll know we’re on to him,” said -Hashknife. “But we’ve got to take a chance. Come out on the porch. -Tell Nanah to light the lamps.” - -The old Indian woman bustled around, lighting lamps, while the rest of -them followed Hashknife to the rear porch. - -“I’ll go first,” whispered Hashknife. “One man only makes one target. -If the coast is clear, I’ll whistle a tune, and Sleepy, you and Jimmy -come over there.” - -Hashknife kept well in the shadow in crossing the patio, and in a -minute or two he began whistling. Sleepy and Jimmy crossed to the -bunk-house, where the door was open. Hashknife lighted the lamp, which -was on a table about midway of the room. - -Then he motioned Sleepy and Jimmy back to the doorway, where he -followed them out, closing the door. - -“Duck down as low as yuh can and sneak back to the house,” he -whispered. They got back to the house and crept silently in. - -Hashknife stepped in close to a rear window, where he could get a -clear view of the patio, and watched through a break in the curtain. - -“If he didn’t see our horses, he’ll think we’re in the bunk-house,” -said Hashknife. “If he seen us leave our horses and do an Injun sneak, -he’ll know we’re on to him, and prob’ly fog away from here.” - -“Do you think it’s the man who has been trying to kill me?” asked -Jimmy. - -“Might be.” - -Suddenly Hashknife jerked back. A blinding flash filled the room, -followed by a terrific jarring crash, which fairly threw them off -their feet. The lamp was extinguished; pictures fell from the walls, -and a moment later the house seemed to be bombarded with missiles from -every angle. - -Hashknife had fallen back against a table, but now he got to his feet, -groping in the dark. Sleepy was swearing dazedly. Dust and smoke -eddied in through the broken windows, and with it was the odor of -dynamite; the unmistakable scent of nitroglycerine. - -“Is anybody hurt?” gasped Hashknife, scratching a match and holding it -above his head. Nanah was sitting against the wall, her eyes goggling -out of an impassive face. Marion had got to her feet and was reaching -for something to steady herself with, while Jimmy had backed against -the wall, his arms outspread against it, his feet braced. - -“What was it?” whispered Marion, staring wide-eyed at Hashknife. - -“Somebody dynamited us, I reckon.” He strode to the door and flung it -open, while the others crowded close behind him. Where once had stood -the adobe bunk-house, there was only a pile of adobe bricks, twisted -timbers. The patio was a mass of adobe. On the porch of the -ranch-house was the splintered door, torn from its hinges and flung -across the patio. - -Hashknife ran across the yard, vaulted across the débris and went out -through a gaping hole in the patio wall, heading for the stables. -Through some freak of dynamite explosion, the force seemed to have -been in the opposite direction to the stables, with the result that -none of the stock was injured, and the stable still intact. - -It did not take Hashknife long to find that nothing had been injured -in the stable. A decidedly feminine shriek from the patio sent him -running back through the broken wall, where he almost ran into Apollo, -the ancient burro. - -“He was under that pile of stuff,” yelled Sleepy. “Rised up like a -darned ghost and almost scared Marion to death.” - -Marion was laughing foolishly, almost hysterically. - -“—— good thing I see man,” declared Nanah solemnly. - -“You bet it was!” agreed Hashknife warmly. “If yuh didn’t see that -man, we’d be in bad shape now, Nanah. Good gosh! Can yuh imagine what -would ’a’ happened to us, if we’d ’a’ been in that bunk-house?” - -“Yeah, and we’d better look a little out,” said Sleepy nervously. “The -little sidewinder that touched off that blast will prob’ly want to see -if he done a good job.” - -“He’ll not come back tonight, Sleepy. He’s high-tailin’ it out of this -section right now. I’ll betcha yuh could hear that explosion in Blue -Wells.” - -Marion shivered in the cold breeze, as she looked at the moonlit -wreck. - -“Oh, what will happen next?” she wondered aloud. - -“Somebody,” said Hashknife, “is goin’ to hear the echo of that blast, -and it sure is goin’ to ache his ears.” - -They tried to find their bed-rolls, but the outer wall of the -bunk-house, which was about two feet thick of adobe, had fallen in on -the floor, and it would require much digging to get down even to the -bunk-levels. - -They went after their horses and put them in the stable, after which -they borrowed a few blankets from Marion. Jimmy insisted that he be -allowed to stand guard with them, but Hashknife decreed that Jimmy -sleep in the house, while Sleepy rolled in his blankets at the hay-mow -window of the stable, which, since the bunk-house was no more, gave -him a fair view of the patio and rear of the house. Hashknife went out -about a hundred feet from the front of the house, and coiled up in his -blankets in the cover of a mesquite, where he could watch the front of -the ranch-house. But nothing came, except the cold, gray dawn, which -was a long time coming. - -There was an exodus from Blue Wells, when the news of the dynamiting -reached there, and the Double Bar 8 held a great gathering of the -cattle-clan, who came to view the ruins and to give an opinion. Some -of them seemed to think that perhaps Apostle Paul Taylor had had some -dynamite stored in the bunk-house, and that it had exploded. - -Tex Alden came and viewed the ruins with gloomy eyes; Barnhardt -perched on a pile of adobe and crumbled the clay between his fingers, -and looked wise. The sheriff talked to every one who seemed to have -any kind of a theory—and knew no more about it than he did when he -came. - -The women grouped around Marion, and “Oh’d” and “Ah’d,” like a lot of -old hens clucking over a sudden fright. Hashknife said nothing, but -listened much. Le Moyne came to him and tried to find out what -Hashknife thought about it, but went away with the feeling that this -tall cowboy knew less than any of them. - -With Le Moyne was Dug Haley, who quarreled loudly with Al Porter over -what dynamite would or would not do. Sleepy Stevens horned into the -argument with a dissertation on “the dynamic principles of -combustion,” in which he used the words “epiglottis,” “atomizer” and -“dogmatic” numberless times; much to the confusion of Al Porter, who -was forced to admit that all he knew about dynamite was that “the —— -stuff busts and raises ——.” - -It was not often that Antelope Neal, owner of the Oasis, went out of -Blue Wells, but he did ride down to see what had happened to the -Double Bar 8. Neal was a small, gray-haired man, who seldom had -anything to say. He was a square gambler, and was respected as such in -Blue Wells. - -Hashknife noticed that Tex Alden and Antelope Neal stood apart from -the crowd for quite a while, talking confidentially, eying him at -times, and causing Hashknife to suspect that he was the subject of -their conversation. - -When the crowd began to thin out, it seemed that Tex tried to start a -conversation with Marion, but she evidently preferred the attention of -Jimmy Legg, and Tex retired, his lips set in a thin line, his eyes -hard and speculative. - -Lee Barnhardt noticed that Marion had evaded Tex, and it seemed to -amuse the Blue Wells attorney. He sidled in beside Tex, who paid no -attention to him. - -“Tex, you’re not going to let a tenderfoot tramp cut you out, are -you?” he asked, possibly trying to be sympathetic. - -Tex’s action was almost as sudden as dynamite. He hooked his right -fist against Barnhardt’s jaw, knocking him almost through the patio -gate. Needless to say, Barnhardt stayed down. Tex stepped over to him, -glanced down, turned to the crowd and studied them coldly. Then, -without a word, he walked to his horse, mounted and rode away. - -Several men ran to Barnhardt and tried to help him to his feet; but -standing up was one thing that Barnhardt did not care about in the -least. He sagged weakly, goggle-eyed. - -“As cool as a cow-cumber,” said Al Porter. - -“Cucumber,” corrected Dug Haley. - -“I said what I meant!” snapped Porter. “If you wants to correct me on -vegetation, you better mean the same thing that I do.” - -“There’s been enough fightin’,” observed the sheriff. “Did anybody -hear what caused Tex to hit Barnhardt?” - -Nobody had. Some one secured a bucket of water, which they sluiced -over the helpless Barnhardt. It made a mess of him, but served to jolt -him back to consciousness. After a minute or two he was able to stand -on his feet, but his jaw did not function properly. Hashknife examined -it but found it was not broken. - -“Why did he hit yuh, Lee?” asked the sheriff. - -“Idnuk,” said Lee painfully. Interpreted, this might be construed to -mean “I don’t know.” - -And this was all the explanation he was willing to mumble. He went out -to his sway-backed horse, and headed for Blue Wells, riding slowly and -caressing his jaw. - -The sheriff was the last to leave, and he would have stayed longer, -except that the four cowboys from the AK ranch rode in. They had heard -of the dynamiting, in Blue Wells. The sheriff did not care for their -company; so he rode away. - -“My ——, that shore is another wreck of the Hesperus, ain’t she?” said -Eskimo Swensen. “Wham! I’ll betcha she made some noise.” - -“It came near being serious,” said Jimmy. Johnny Grant grinned widely -and slapped Jimmy on the back. - -“You derned hoodoo! It looks as though this was the third time they’d -tried to kill yuh off. I dunno what they’ll use next.” - -“Tie him on a railroad track,” suggested Oyster. - -Johnny drew Hashknife aside, and they sat down together on a pile of -shattered adobe bricks. - -“I’ve been wantin’ to talk with you, Hartley,” said Johnny seriously. -“Yo’re workin’ on this hold-up case, ain’t yuh?” - -“Well?” Hashknife admitted nothing. - -“I heard yuh was; so I’m goin’ to tell yuh what I know about it.” - -And while the other boys examined the wreckage, Johnny Grant told -Hashknife of that night in Blue Wells, when they got drunk and locked -the sheriff in his own cell. And of the incident at the train, when -they staged an impromptu battle with the engineer and fireman; not -knowing what it was all about. - -He told Hashknife of the man who came along the track in the dark, -went into the express car and got the dog. - -“Somebody cut our broncs loose that night,” said Johnny. “I understand -that the sheriff’s horses were also turned loose, and it kinda looks -as though it was done to prevent a posse from trailin’ ’em. Of course, -they wouldn’t know that Al Porter was in Encinas, visitin’ his girl, -and that the sheriff was in jail.” - -Hashknife grinned widely and thanked Johnny for his information. - -“Thasall right,” said Johnny. “Yo’re sure welcome. Yuh see, we don’t -care much for the sheriff and his deputy. They said we ought to be run -out of the country; so we kept still about what happened to us. But -when they jailed the Taylor outfit, I just got to thinkin’ that mebbe -our evidence might help to land the right ones. I didn’t want to give -it to Wade, the railroad detective, because he acted so —— smart; but -I’m givin’ it to’ you, because you—because I had a talk with Goode, -over at the X Bar 6.” - -“Well, that may not help us all the way out, but it’s somethin’ to -grab on to,” smiled Hashknife. “That feller Goode probably lied a lot -about us, but he means all right, I guess.” - -“Well,” confessed Johnny gravely, “he sure scared me into tellin’ yuh -all I knew.” - -“You look like a feller that scares easy,” grinned Hashknife. “I’ll -betcha all three of you fellers would run from a shadow.” - -“Well, yuh can’t do much damage to a shadow, yuh know. We’d like yuh -to know that if yuh need three fellers that are strong in the muscle -and weak in the head, yuh might call on us.” - -“Thanks, Grant. I reckon Nanah and Marion are cookin’ dinner, and if I -was you, I’d stick around for the meal. Marion wants to thank yuh for -offerin’ accommodations to us on the round-up.” - -“George Bonnette done that, Hartley. ’S funny Tex Alden didn’t offer -to take care of yuh.” - -“I reckon he’s sore about Jimmy bein’ here.” - -“M-m-m-m-m-m. Hartley, no matter what yore personal opinion is of Tex -Alden, he’s a white man, and a —— of a good cow-hand. Mebbe he’s kinda -off-color on account of carin’ a lot for that girl, but he’s a square -shooter—all the time.” - -“Yeah? He ordered Jimmy Legg to get out of the country. That night -Jimmy was shot, just after he had left Marion Taylor, at the front of -the Blue Wells hotel. A little later on, a shot from the hill out -there almost got him again.” - -“I know that,” Johnny shook his head. “If I was goin’ off at -half-cock, I’d nod toward Tex, wouldn’t you?” - -“I suppose I would, Grant—but I don’t.” - -“No? Well, that’s good. I talked with Tex the other day. He admits -that it looks as if he done it.” - -Marion called to them from the rear door, and they headed for the -wash-bench, dropping the subject of Tex Alden. - -And while they ate dinner at the Double Bar 8, Lee Barnhardt rode into -Blue Wells, stabled his horse and went to see the doctor, who did a -little to alleviate the pain in his jaw. Back in his office, he filled -his pipe and tried to enjoy a smoke, but flung the pipe aside, because -he couldn’t keep his mind on tobacco. It was the one time in his life -that Lee Barnhardt was thoroughly mad. Just now he hated everybody, -and everything— especially Tex Alden. - -And while his anger was at fever-heat, Scotty Olson, the sheriff, -walked into the office. - -“How’s yore jaw?” asked the sheriff. - -“None of your —— business!” - -The exclamation seemed to hurt Lee’s jaw, and he clapped a hand to the -side of his face, shutting one eye tightly. - -“I reckon it’s all well,” said the sheriff sarcastically. “Tex hit yuh -a dinger of a punch, didn’t he. I never did see a feller flatten out -prettier than you did. My ——, you was jist about as animated as a -scarecrow, after yuh pull the braces out of it! I asked Tex a while -ago why he hit yuh, and he said for me to ask you.” - -“And you came to ask me, did you?” Barnhardt was almost crying with -anger. “You haven’t a brain in your head.” - -“I thought there was a reason,” said the sheriff mildly. “Of course, -if he was jist doin’ it for fun—” - -“Fun, eh?” gritted Barnhardt. “I’ll make him think it was fun. He owes -the X Bar 6 eight thousand dollars, and he’ll pay it, or go to jail -for embezzlement. I’ll show him! And for your own information, I’ll -tell you that Tex knew the money for the Santa Rita was coming in on -that train.” - -“How did he know that, Lee?” - -“By ——, I told him it was!” - -“How did you know?” - -“I guessed it.” - -The sheriff sat down and studied the situation, while the lawyer -caressed his sore jaw and wondered if he was showing good judgment in -telling all this about Tex. - -“And you think Tex held up that train, Lee?” - -“I didn’t say that, Scotty.” - -“No, I know yuh didn’t; but yuh hinted at it. If Tex hears this, he’ll -hit yuh with somethin’ besides his fist.” - -“I suppose.” Lee looked gloomily at the wall, one eye half shut from -the pain in his jaw. - -Came the sound of a step at the doorway, and Tex Alden came in. -Barnhardt jerked up his head quickly and stared at the man who had -knocked him cold. - -“Hello, Scotty,” said Tex evenly. - -He did not speak to Barnhardt, as he came up to the lawyer’s desk, -drawing a bulky package from his pocket. - -“I owe yuh that much, Barnhardt,” Tex said coldly. “Mebbe yuh better -count it.” - -Barnhardt swallowed heavily, but made no move to pick up the money. -Tex eyed him for a moment, turned and walked out, without saying -anything more. Barnhardt shifted uneasily, but finally picked up the -package, walked to his small safe, opened it with a key, and put away -the package. - -He came back and sat down, making no explanation. - -“Tex wasn’t very cheerful,” observed Scotty. - -Barnhardt shook his head and sighed deeply. - -“I think I’ll take a little trip, Scotty; kinda get away until time -for that trial. I’ve been pretty steady on the job for two years, and -a little change would do me good.” - -“A change does anybody good,” admitted the sheriff. “I’d like to go -with yuh. What’ll yuh do, close yore office?” - -“I think so. I won’t be gone more than a week, but I think, under the -circumstances, I should go away until things clear a little.” - -“I suppose so, Lee.” - -The sheriff thought it would really be a wise thing for Barnhardt to -go away for a while, and he said so to Hashknife that evening, when -Hashknife stopped at the office for a few minutes. They were -discussing the incident at the Double Bar 8, and Hashknife wondered -how Barnhardt’s jaw was feeling. The sheriff told of Tex’s bringing a -package of money to Lee Barnhardt, and he also told Hashknife what -Barnhardt had said about Tex knowing about that shipment of money. - -“I wouldn’t tell that to anybody else,” said the sheriff. “But it -appears that you’re workin’ on the case, and yuh ought to know about -these things.” - -“When does Barnhardt intend to leave?” asked Hashknife. - -“He didn’t say; but I expect he’ll leave tomorrow. Between me and you, -he’s scared of Tex Alden, and he wants to git away for a few days to -let Tex cool off. Lee talks too —— much.” - -“That’s a human failin’,” smiled Hashknife. - -But Lee Barnhardt did not go on any trip. When he got up the following -morning he found that some one had opened his safe during the night, -and had looted it of everything it contained. The bank did not have a -safety vault; so Barnhardt found himself cleaned out, as everything he -owned was in his own safe. - -He sat down at his desk and stared at the empty valise, which he had -brought along and placed beside the safe. His clothes were packed in a -larger valise. He seemed stunned, his vacant gaze fixed upon the -half-open door of the safe. - -The fruits of two years’ work had been in that safe, when he locked -the office the night before. He had never feared a robbery, because a -lawyer’s safe usually only held papers, of no value to any one, except -to the lawyer. - -His dazed condition passed, leaving him in a state of perspiration. He -got to his feet and staggered over to the safe, peering within, trying -to convince himself that it was only a dream. He went to the front -door and gazed out at the street. It was fairly early in the morning, -and there were few people in evidence. He heard the train leave the -station; the train he had intended leaving on, and he turned away, -choking a curse. - -He went to his desk, and with shaking fingers he opened a drawer and -took out a revolver, which he put in his pocket. He unbuttoned his -vest, disclosing a narrow strap across his bosom, attesting to the -fact that he was wearing a shoulder-holster. Then he sat down, trying -to think just what to do. - -“I’ve got to find Tex Alden,” he told himself. “Tex saw me put that -money in my safe. —— him, he paid his debt before a witness, and then -took it back—took everything in the safe. If he don’t give it back to -me, I’ll kill him.” - -He flung the two valises behind his desk and walked to the door. Al -Porter was coming toward the office. Barnhardt tried to appear -indifferent, although he knew Porter would question him. As Porter -neared the office, Marion Taylor, Jimmy Legg and Sleepy came riding -down the street. Porter came up to Barnhardt, but did not speak, and -they watched the riders draw up in front of them. - -“Good morning, Mr. Barnhardt,” said Marion. “We looked for you at the -depot a while ago. Did you decide to not go away?” - -Barnhardt nodded dumbly, because he dared not speak. - -“Where’s the tall feller?” asked Porter. - -“He went away on the train,” said Sleepy, beginning the manufacture of -a cigaret. - -“Went away, eh? Gone to stay?” - -“No-o-o; just to Encinas.” - -Barnhardt swallowed heavily and tried to smile. - -“That’s where Al’s girl lives,” he offered. - -“He may see her,” replied Sleepy seriously. - -Porter stared at Sleepy, wondering if this innocent-eyed cowboy meant -anything by that remark. - -“We came in pretty early,” said Marion, “and I wonder if the sheriff -will let me in the jail.” - -“He’s in the office,” growled Porter. “I reckon he will.” - -They moved on toward the jail, and Porter turned angrily to Barnhardt. - -“That was a —— of a remark to make! You ain’t got no interest in my -girl, have yuh?” - -“Not a particle.” - -“Then never mind about her; _sabe_? You monkey with my business and -you’ll get worse than Tex Alden gave yuh.” - -“Did you come up here to pick a fight?” queried Barnhardt. - -“Any old time I look for trouble, I won’t pick out a —— wide-mouthed -lawyer, that’s a cinch.” - -Porter turned on his heel and went to the stable, where he saddled his -horse and rode out of town. - -Barnhardt waited until the three riders had left the sheriff’s office, -and then went down there. The sheriff looked quizzically at him. - -“I thought you was goin’ away this mornin’, Lee.” - -“Changed my mind,” said Barnhardt. “May go tomorrow.” - -The sheriff nodded and looked at some papers on his desk. - -“Hartley went away this mornin’,” offered Barnhardt. - -The sheriff looked up. - -“Yeah, they said he did; went to Encinas.” - -“Yes. I guess he expected me to go on the same train.” - -“Prob’ly did. I told him yuh was goin’ away this mornin’.” - -Barnhardt went back to his office, his mind still traveling in -circles. He knew what would happen if he accused Tex Alden of opening -the safe. Tex was hotheaded, and Barnhardt knew he could never best -Tex in any kind of a fair fight. If he accused Tex of theft, he’d -never get his money and papers back. - -So Barnhardt decided to wait and see, even if the waiting did gall his -soul. No one, except himself and the man who opened the safe, knew -that such a thing had been done. He had thought of having Tex -arrested, but decided that his evidence against Tex only consisted of -Tex’s knowing that the eight thousand was in the safe. Barnhardt had -counted the package of money, when he was alone, and it contained that -amount of currency. - -Sleepy, Jimmy and Marion did not ride back to the ranch on the road, -but circled through the hills. It was early morning, and they were in -no hurry to return. A coyote invited them to a race, and they gave him -what he was looking for. Only a barrier of mesquite, into which he -sped like a gray shadow, saved him from Sleepy’s loop. - -Flocks of white-wing doves hurtled past them, heading for the -water-holes; quail called from the slopes; a deer broke from a -thicket, and after a few short, stiff-legged jumps, headed up a slope, -head cocked back, walking jerkily. - -They were nearing the ranch when they described a flock of buzzards, -circling low over a little ravine, like scraps of black paper, caught -in the grip of a whirlwind. - -“Somebody lost a cow,” said Sleepy, “and it’s eatin’ time for Mr. -Buzzard.” - -“I hope it isn’t any of our stock,” said Marion. “We can’t afford to -feed any buzzards this year.” - -Jimmy evinced a desire to investigate; so he and Sleepy rode down to -the ravine, while Marion circled higher on the hill. The air suddenly -filled with flapping buzzards, croaking hoarsely; possibly swearing in -their own language on being interrupted at their morning meal. - -It was not a cow, but a horse, which lay at the bottom of the ravine; -a gray horse, partly eaten by buzzards, but with the brand still -showing. Sleepy quickly noticed that its right fore leg was broken -about half-way between knee and hock. Further investigation showed -that the animal had been shot through the head, and that the shooter -had held his gun so close that the powder had scorched the hair. - -“Broke a leg and had to be shot,” said Sleepy. “Not so very long ago.” - -They mounted and rode back to Marion, who had waited for them. Sleepy -explained what caused the buzzards to congregate. - -“What brand was on the animal?” she asked. Sleepy rubbed his nose -thoughtfully. “Well, it happens to be a Double Bar 8.” - -“One of our horses?” - -“Yeah—a gray. Weigh about a thousand. Got some dark spots on the rump, -and its fetlocks are almost black.” - -“Why, that horse belonged to Buck! He didn’t ride it often. But I -never heard Buck say anything about shooting it.” - -“And pretty close to home, too,” observed Jimmy. - -The little ravine where the horse lay was not over an eighth of a mile -from the Double Bar 8 stable. - -“If the wind had blown down from that direction, we’d ’a’ knowed it -before this,” grinned Sleepy. - -The discovery of this horse interested Sleepy. He felt sure that Buck -would have mentioned it at the ranch. The horse had either fallen into -the ravine and broke a leg or stepped into a hole. It was also very -evident that the rider had mercifully put the animal out of its -misery. And Sleepy wondered who, except some of the Taylor outfit, -would be riding a Double Bar 8 horse so near the ranch. - -He rode to Blue Wells that evening and met Hashknife, whom he told -about the dead horse. They found the sheriff at his office, and he let -them in to see Buck Taylor. Buck was glad to see them, but denied -knowing anything about the horse being dead. - -“I ain’t seen that horse for quite a while,” he said. “He wasn’t -exactly a good cow-horse; so I let him drift. Plenty of speed, but he -never seemed to _sabe_ what it was all about. Who do yuh reckon killed -him?” - -“Somebody must ’a’ borrowed him, I s’pose,” said Hashknife. - -“Well, I wish we was out of here,” sighed Buck. “With all this -shootin’ and dynamitin’, I sure hate to stay here. I’d like to find -the dirty snake that’s doin’ it all.” - -Hashknife and Sleepy left the jail and went to the livery-stable, -where they had left Hashknife’s horse that morning. Hashknife had -nothing to say about his trip to Encinas, and Sleepy knew that -questions were useless. Hashknife always worked on the theory that a -secret is safe only with one person. - -It was about ten o’clock when they approached the Double Bar 8, riding -silently. There was a light in the ranch-house window, and as they -drew closer they heard Jimmy’s and Marion’s voices blended in “After -the Ball,” accompanied by the old upright organ. The two cowboys drew -rein and listened. Off to the left of them a horse nickered softly. -They peered in that direction, thinking it was a loose horse. - -Then they went on, their horses making little noise in the sandy road, -and drew up just outside the patio entrance. They could hear Marion -and Jimmy laughing, as Marion tried to strike the right chord on the -old organ. - -Something prompted Hashknife to walk from his horse to the patio -entrance, where he stopped quickly. A man’s voice snapped a warning, a -streak of flame flashed toward him, and a bullet crashed into the -corner of the entrance. - -Two men were running toward the broken place in the wall, stumbling -over the débris. Hashknife drew his six-shooter and fired twice, -yelling at Sleepy to circle the wall. Another bullet whined off the -adobe wall near him, as he started across the patio, heading for where -the men had gone out. - -Sleepy had dismounted, and he did not think to mount and ride. In -fact, he hardly knew what it was all about. He ran around the wall and -almost collided with Hashknife, who sprang out through where the -dynamite had wrecked the wall. - -“What the —— was it?” panted Sleepy. - -“Sh-h-h-h-h!” whispered Hashknife. “Listen.” - -They stood against the ruined wall, straining their ears for the -slightest sound. Then they heard the distant thud of running horses, -growing fainter and fainter, as the riders faded away in the hills. - -Hashknife swore softly, as he told Sleepy of the two men. Some one had -extinguished the lamp in the ranch-house, and Sleepy called, telling -them that everything was all right. - -They found Marion and Jimmy on the back porch, and told them about the -two men who had shot at Hashknife. - -“Oh, I’m a fine guard!” said Jimmy bitterly. “Sleepy told me to keep -an eye open. But we started singing, and—” - -“Oh, it’s all right,” laughed Hashknife. “Nobody hurt. If we’d only -gone over and investigated, when that horse nickered, Sleepy, we’d ’a’ -had ’em cinched. But I didn’t look for ’em to come back so soon. -That’s sure a puzzle. The further I go into this thing, the worse the -fog gets. - -“They wasn’t over here by the house. They could ’a’ looked in the -window and seen who was in there. They might ’a’ been waitin’ for us -to come back, but if they were, why did they let us walk in on ’em? I -heard one of ’em snap a warnin’; so it kinda looks as though they -didn’t expect us just then.” - -“Do you think you hit either one of them?” asked Jimmy nervously. - -Hashknife laughed. - -“I was shootin’ for general results. A man runnin’ in the dark, -jumpin’ through a broken wall, is a hard target. And when yuh hit a -man with a .45 in any spot, except his hands, arms, or the end of his -nose, he won’t go far; so I’ll admit that I missed ’em.” - -For the next two nights Hashknife and Sleepy guarded the place, but no -one came. The sheriff visited them, but they did not mention anything -about the latest development. Hashknife was very thoughtful all the -while, but admitted that he was getting nowhere in his deductions. He -talked with Marion about Tex Alden and Le Moyne, and she seemed -surprized when he told her that it was the general opinion that there -was a rivalry over her between Tex and Le Moyne. - -“Why, that is ridiculous,” she told Hashknife. “Mr. Le Moyne used to -drop in here once in a while, but he hasn’t been here for over a -month, except when they all came out to see the ruins of our -bunk-house.” - -“As far as Tex is concerned, the opinion ain’t far off, is it?” - -Marion flushed. - -“I liked Tex all right,” she admitted. “He is nice, as long as his -temper doesn’t run away with him. Tex has a bad temper, you know.” - -“And he hates Jimmy Legg, because Jimmy Legg happens to be here,” -observed Hashknife. - -Marion looked at Hashknife, her eyes puzzled. Then— - -“You don’t think Tex was the one—” she hesitated. - -“That tried to kill Jimmy?” Hashknife finished for her. - -“Oh, Tex couldn’t do a thing like that, Hashknife!” - -“No?” Hashknife smiled slowly. “Yuh don’t think so?” - -Marion shook her head quickly. - -“Not even if he was mad. He might be mad enough for a moment to kill -some one, but not to shoot from ambush.” - -“Well,” grinned Hashknife, “I’ll have to mark Tex Alden off my list of -customers. It seems that Tex lost eight thousand dollars to Antelope -Neal, in a poker game. This was before we came here. Now I’ve been -wonderin’ how Tex could afford it.” - -“Yes, I heard about it, Hashknife. Tex works on a salary—the salary of -a foreman—and he surely couldn’t afford to lose that amount of money. -In fact, I don’t see where he got it.” - -“I know where he got it,” smiled Hashknife. “But I don’t see where -he’ll ever be able to pay it back.” - -Further than that Hashknife would not say, although Marion was curious -to hear more about Tex Alden. - -That evening Hashknife and Sleepy decided to visit Blue Wells, and -talked things over with Jimmy. - -“We may be back late,” explained Hashknife. “There’s a two-barreled -shotgun in the house, and I saw some shells on a shelf in the kitchen. -You load that gun, Jimmy, and keep it handy. Lock all the doors, and -be sure that every curtain is down. I don’t look for any trouble, but -yuh never can tell.” - -“I’ll take care of everything,” declared Jimmy. “And I’m not afraid. -If anybody comes fooling around here tonight, I’ll give them a -surprize. I’ll make it a point to keep awake.” - -They rode to Blue Wells after dark that night, and found the three -boys fiom the AK at the Oasis. Being Saturday night, there was quite a -crowd in town, and the games were flourishing. Johnny Grant, Oyster -Shell and Eskimo Swensen welcomed Hashknife and Sleepy with open arms. - -Tex Alden, Plenty Goode and Ed Gast were in from the X Bar 6. Tex was -cordial, and talked with Hashknife about the dynamiting. Hashknife -knew that Tex was wondering where Jimmy Legg was, and finally Tex -asked him if Marion wasn’t afraid to stay at the ranch with only the -Indian woman. - -“Jimmy’s out there,” said Hashknife. - -“Do yuh call that protection, Hartley?” - -Hashknife smiled, but said nothing. He was thinking of Jimmy and the -short, ten-gauge Parker. Le Moyne and several of the men from the -Santa Rita mine were in town. In the course of the evening Hashknife -sat in on a poker game, in which Tex Alden, Plenty Goode, Johnny -Grant, Scotty Olson and Antelope Neal tried to outguess each other in -the pastime. Sleepy and Oyster Shell quarreled for hours over a -bottle-pool game, which was being refereed by Eskimo Swensen, who had -an injured hand, and was unable to play. - -It was within an hour of daylight when Hashknife drew out of the poker -game. He had won enough to make it worth his while, and Antelope Neal -said he had never been more willing to cash in any man’s chips and -have his luck out of the game. - -Sleepy was glad to go home. - -“I’ve walked a hundred miles around that darned pool table,” he -declared, as they left the Oasis. “A pile of blankets will look like a -bank-roll to me.” - -There was a cold breeze blowing as they rode back to the Double Bar 8, -and the crimson glow of the rising sun painted the crests of the -eastern hills, as they rode in at the stable and put up their horses. - -“Well, it don’t look like any more dynamitin’ had been done since we -left,” observed Sleepy, as they walked across the patio toward the -rear door of the ranch-house. - -“All is serene,” said Hashknife, and as he spoke Nanah came to the -doorway. - -The Indian woman was a pitiful sight. Her face was streaked with -blood, her dress torn, and she staggered wearily. - -“For —— sake!” gasped Hashknife. He took her by the shoulders. “What’s -wrong, Nanah? What happened to you? Where’s Marion and Jimmy?” - -There was blood on her hair, and Hashknife could see that a livid welt -ran from her right temple and disappeared in her mop of disheveled -black hair. - -“I do’ know,” she choked. “Men come,” she brushed her hand across her -eyes, as though to clear her vision. “Have rag on faces. Knock Jimmy -down. Take Marion, go that way.” She leaned one shoulder heavily on -Hashknife and pointed east. - -“Yuh mean that masked men came and took Marion?” - -She nodded dumbly. Hashknife led her to a chair and made her sit down. -The room showed signs of a struggle, and there were a number of blood -stains on the floor and walls. - -“What does it mean, Hashknife?” queried Sleepy anxiously. - -“Where’s Jimmy?” asked Hashknife. Nanah shook her head. She didn’t -know where he was. - -“I hear much noise,” she said dumbly. “I come. Jimmy on floor. I run -to door. Man hit me.” Her hand went to her head. “I fall on floor. I -do’ know. I look from window, I see.” - -“You saw ’em goin’ that way?” - -“Yes.” - -“How many men, Nanah?” - -“I do’ know. I can’t see very good. Too much blood.” - -“How long ago, Nanah?” - -“I do’ know. Pretty sick in head.” - -“She got an awful wallop,” said Sleepy. “Prob’ly got to the window, -saw ’em pullin’ out, and collapsed. What’s the program?” - -Hashknife ran through the house and came back. - -“The shotgun is gone,” he said. “They’ve taken Marion toward Broken -Cañon, but the devil only knows just where. Nanah, are you all right? -We’ve got to get help. You stay here.” - -“Pretty good,” she said. “You go quick.” - -They ran back to the stable and saddled their horses. The horses -seemed to sense the need of speed, and the two boys mounted on the -run. Sleepy stood in his stirrups, his lips opened in a soundless -yell. This was action. They swung around the point of a hill, heading -up through a swale, a mile or more from the ranch-house. Hashknife -spurred in close to Sleepy. - -“Get the sheriff and all the boys yuh can get together, and head for -Broken Cañon, Sleepy. I’m goin’ back.” - -Sleepy did not question him. He had spent too many years with -Hashknife to question any action of the tall cowboy. He merely nodded, -drew his hat down over his brow and headed for Blue Wells to gather a -posse, while Hashknife drew rein, turned around and went back. - -The poker game had just broken up, when Sleepy dropped off his horse -at the door of the Oasis, and panted out his story. - -“Good ——!” exclaimed Tex Alden. “There’s more than one -hole-in-the-ground in Broken Cañon! Let’s go!” - -Scotty Olson, the sheriff, got his horse, and they rode out of Blue -Wells, nine strong; Olson, Sleepy, Tex, Gast, Goode, Johnny Grant, -Eskimo and Oyster Shell. There was nothing for them to work on, except -that Nanah had said that the men had gone toward Broken Cañon. - - - - - XIII—CAPTURED - - -It would have been difficult for any of Jimmy’s friends to have -recognized him, unless they examined him closely. His face was -plastered with gore, one eye swelled shut and his lip cut. He had no -hat, one sleeve of his shirt flapped behind him, like a streamer tied -to his shoulder. He had no saddle. In the crook of one elbow he -carried the heavy, double-barrel shotgun. That was the extent of his -armament. It was the first time he had ever ridden a bareback horse, -and he was having plenty of difficulty in staying on the animal’s -back. - -Jimmy was still in a daze—but a very determined sort of a daze. All -night long he had stayed awake, guarding the ranch-house. Dawn was in -sight when he dozed, only to be awakened by a knock on the back door. - -“Is that you, Hashknife?” he had asked, and it seemed to him that an -affirmative reply had been given. At any rate he had opened the door, -only to find himself confronted by three masked men. And before he had -time to move, one of the men struck him across the head with a gun -barrel, knocking him down. But the blow was a glancing one, and did -not knock him out. - -Badly dazed he got to his feet, trying to fight, and one of the men -drove several smashing blows to his head and face, knocking him out. -He had little idea of what happened after that, until returning -consciousness gave him a blurred vision of these men taking Marion out -of the house. He had tried to get up, but his limbs refused to -function. - -He saw Nanah crawl to a window, where she managed to look out, before -she crumpled to the floor. It seemed years to him before he could get -to the window, but his vision had cleared sufficiently to enable him -to see the riders going away. - -Summoning up every bit of his courage, he secured the shotgun, and -managed to stagger to the stable, where he bridled a horse, crawled on -its back, and followed them. He was like a man riding through a fog. -He had no idea of direction. With his right hand he tried to wipe the -blood out of his eyes, but gave it up. - -He remembered that there were three men. But that did not matter. He -had two cartridges in that shotgun, and he could use the gun as a -club, after those shots were gone, he decided. He was no longer the -smiling James Eaton Legg, but Jimmy Legg—cowboy. The bookkeeper was -gone entirely, and in his place was a bloody-faced young man, who -wanted to kill somebody with a shotgun. - -Jimmy did not know how long he had ridden. The sun was shining, and -his head ached badly. He wanted to stop and lie down, but he kept on -going, laughing grimly to himself. The horse stopped, and Jimmy -realized that it was standing on the edge of a cañon. He did not know -that this was Broken Cañon. Names meant nothing to him. The horse -turned to the right and followed the cañon rim. At times they swung -far to the right, passing around the head of tributary cañons, but -always coming back to the main cañon rim. - -Jimmy’s reason was coming back to him now, but it only made the -incidents more vivid in his mind. He realized that he had left his -six-shooter at the ranch, and that the two cartridges in his gun were -all he had. - -The horse picked its way among a piled-up mass of big rocks and -tangled brush, and came out on sort of mesa. The cañon widened here, -its depths purple and gold in the rising sun. On the far side of the -cañon were sandstone minarets, gleaming gold-like at the top, banded -with red, fading into a deep purple below the sun-line. - -But Jimmy had no eyes for the beauties of the sunrise. He could see -several people near the cañon rim, a quarter of a mile away, their -horses etched in relief against the gray of a huge upthrust slab of -gray stone. Then he saw two of the riders turn and ride directly away -from the cañon, going at a swift gallop. - -He saw the others ride out of sight, as if going down into the cañon. -Jimmy felt sure that the first two were men, and if Marion was one of -the party, she must have been one of those to go into the cañon. He -spurred his horse down through the tangle of brush, heading for that -huge gray slab, regardless of mesquite, cactus and other thorny things -that tore at his legs. - -He reached the spot, and found that a trail led down into the cañon, -partly masked by the granite cliff. He could see where it disappeared -around a sharp corner, and he wondered how any one could ride down -there without being scraped off. But he knew there was only one thing -to do—and that was to head down the trail. Clutching the mane of the -horse in one hand, and holding his precious shotgun close to his body, -he spurred the horse down the narrow trail, leaning away from the -cañon depth, but letting the horse take its own gait. - -Jimmy had little time to do any observation work. In fact, he had -almost forgotten that he was following any one, as his mind was wholly -taken up in fear of this rough trail. Suddenly he realized that he was -almost at the bottom. He could see the piled-up boulders in the -bottom, the glint of a small stream. - -His horse slipped, and its pawing hoofs sent a shower of stones off -the trail, crashing down through the dry foliage, rattling off the -rocks at the bottom. Jimmy had slipped to its rump, but managed to -claw his way back. He had dropped his reins, but was not making any -effort to recover them for fear of frightening the horse. - -Suddenly he felt a tug at his leg, and the horse seemed to fairly fall -from under him, while the crash of a shot echoed back and forth from -the sides of the cañon. Jimmy sprawled above the horse, falling across -his shotgun. For several moments he did not move. Then he drew up his -left leg. The bullet had scored him slightly just above the knee-cap, -doing little damage. - -He tried to crawl away, but the bank was too steep. He turned over on -his back, twisting sideways, trying to see below him, but could see -nobody. Ignorantly inviting another shot, he crawled to his feet and -stepped down past the horse, which was so badly hurt that it scarcely -moved. Another shot crashed out, the bullet passing so close to Jimmy -that he wasn’t sure it did not hit him. Instinctively jerking aside, -his feet flew from under him, and he cascaded down to the bottom of -the cañon, taking a conglomeration of brush and rocks with him, which -slowed up his progress enough to enable him to reach the bottom, -uninjured, except for numerous cuts and bruises and the sacrifice of a -goodly portion of his raiment. - -But he clung to his shotgun. Nothing short of general cataclysm would -make Jimmy Legg let loose of that gun. It was his one hope. He landed -in a clump of huge boulders, while over him poured more gravel and -rubbish, which had followed in his wake. - -In fact, he was so covered with débris that the masked man, holding a -ready rifle, who came looking for a dead man, did not see him for a -few moments. This man stepped cautiously up on a ledge of rock, about -a hundred feet from the sand and brush that covered Jimmy, who lifted -the shotgun, pointed it in his general direction and pulled the -trigger. - -The big shotgun roared like a cannon, kicked Jimmy so hard that it -fairly dusted him off. He got to his feet, panting the breath back -into his tortured lungs, as he surged forward, looking for -concealment. The man dropped off the rock, with a yelp of amazement, -possibly tinged with injury. A dozen buckshot are not to be faced -lightly. - -Jimmy landed behind a boulder, rubbed his shoulder, which was numb -from the recoil of the shotgun, and began crawling ahead. He peered -over a boulder, and a bullet filled his eyes with rock-dust. - -“I guess I didn’t kill him,” observed Jimmy, and angled his way to -another boulder. He had only one shot left now. Another boulder seemed -to beckon him, and a bullet struck just short of him, cutting his -right cheek with flying gravel. Jimmy curled up behind the boulder and -took stock of himself. - -“This won’t do,” he decided. “I’m doing all the moving. If I could -only get to that boulder, I could crawl up the other side and be on a -level with him.” - -It was a long chance, but Jimmy took it, and he sprawled in behind the -cover of brush and rocks, while a ricocheting bullet hummed away up -the cañon, like an angry bee. The heavy screen of brush enabled him to -crawl up out of the watercourse, and it seemed that this was just what -the other man did not want, because he sent bullet after bullet -through the brush, picking spots at intervals of a few feet. - -But in spite of his bombardment, Jimmy reached the top of the washout, -where he sprawled on his face, panting heavily. The man put a few more -bullets through the brush, which proved to Jimmy that the shooter did -not know that he had reached the top. - -Jimmy’s face was bleeding badly, and his mouth was salty from sweat -and gore. He found that his leg wound was also bleeding considerably, -but gave him little pain. He took time to wrap his handkerchief around -it to keep out the dirt. - -Then he began crawling again, snaking his way through the brush, -trying to see the man who wanted to kill him. He came to the fringe of -the brush, and peered out. He could see the man now; that is, he could -see his head and shoulders and rifle. He was still watching the place -where Jimmy had dropped behind the boulder, before climbing out of the -washout. - -Farther down the cañon he could see the two horses, and on one was the -figure of a girl, evidently roped tightly, because she was having -difficulty in looking back toward the scene of conflict. - -Jimmy studied the man, and tried to map out a plan of attack. He was -about a hundred feet away, but Jimmy thought the target too small to -take a chance on his remaining shot. He saw the man look back toward -the horses. He was evidently getting impatient. Brush grew fairly -heavy along the slope, and Jimmy pondered the chances he might have to -work his way to the horses without being seen. It would be a dangerous -move, he decided. Anyway, he liked the cover of the boulder-strewn -brush, and as long as the man was willing to wait, he would, too. - -He saw the man take off his hat and lift it above the top of the rock. -It rather puzzled Jimmy. He jerked it down quickly. Then he exposed it -in another place. It suddenly struck Jimmy that this man was trying to -draw his fire, and his blood-caked features cracked into a grin. - -An insane desire to yell at this man gripped at him. He wanted to -laugh, to joke this man. But his better judgment bade him be still. He -saw the man move forward to another boulder, where he repeated the -cap-lifting. Jimmy realized that this man was getting impatient to -have the fight finished. - -The man kept moving ahead, until he was masked from Jimmy, who crawled -out of the brush and headed for the rim of the washout again, trading -sides with the other man. For about thirty feet Jimmy crawled swiftly, -dropped behind some cover and waited. - -It was about five minutes later that he saw the man again. He had -moved farther up the cañon, possibly thinking that Jimmy had made his -escape. By standing up, Jimmy could get a good look at this man, who -was too far away for Jimmy to take a chance with the shotgun; so Jimmy -dropped back into the washout, bent down low and headed in the general -direction of the horses. - -But he had not escaped detection. A bullet sang past his ear, and he -stumbled over a boulder, falling sidewise into a cut on the left-hand -side of the washout. To the shooter, it possibly appeared as if he had -been struck. Jimmy was half-standing, half-lying in the cut, when he -heard the drumming of footsteps, as the man hurried forward. There was -no chance of concealment there. - -It seemed as if the man were almost over him, when he raised up, -shoving the shotgun barrel over the rim of the washout. The man jerked -to a stop, only fifty feet away, firing his rifle from his hip, just -as Jimmy pressed the trigger. The bullet struck just in front of -Jimmy’s face, filling his nose, eyes and mouth with dirt, and the kick -of the shotgun sent him running backward down the short slope, where -he hooked his heel on a rock, and sprawled on his back. - -It was several moments before he could get up. He felt weak, -nauseated, as he spat out the dirt, blinked tearfully and climbed to -the top of the washout. Out there on the flat ground was the man, -sprawling on his face, his rifle flung aside. - -Jimmy did not go near him. He sighed heavily and headed for the -horses, where Marion’s white face and astonished eyes drove every -other thought from his mind. Neither of them spoke as he cut the ropes -which bound her, and she got stiffly from the saddle, clinging to him. - -“You—you came, didn’t you, Jimmy?” she whispered hoarsely. - -“Yea-a-ah, I sure did.” Jimmy grinned on one side of his face, because -the other was glued tightly with gore. “It was quite a trip. This has -been a tough season, Marion.” - -It was rather inane conversation, but under the circumstances it was -excusable. - -The man was trying to sit up, and Marion pointed to him breathlessly. -Jimmy went staggering out to him, a loose-jointed young man, who had -been hurt so many times that he was numb all over. He picked up the -rifle and stepped back, tottering on his feet. - -“You better stay where you are,” he told the masked man. “You ain’t so -awful tough.” - -Jimmy had heard Johnny Grant use that expression, and it seemed to fit -the occasion. He turned his head and called to Marion. - -“Can you lead the horses up here, Marion? We’ve got to pack this -lead-filled person to a doctor, or he won’t live to be hung.” - - - - - XIV—WHO GOT THE PAY-ROLL? - - -When Hashknife turned back to the Double Bar 8 it was because of a -single theory. He was fairly positive that Marion had not been -kidnaped by those men because they wanted her; but that they had had -reasons of more importance to them than the mere capture of a young -lady. Hashknife wasn’t sure just what this was, but he had a -suspicion—at least, enough suspicion to send him back to the ranch, -instead of heading a posse over to the breaks of Broken Cañon. - -He rode his horse into the stable, unsaddled quickly, turned it into -the corral, and ran to the house, where he found Nanah, bathing her -head in a basin of water. He explained to her the necessity of locking -the house, covering the windows, and of keeping out of sight. - -Without question she obeyed him, and he went back to the stable, -climbed to the little loft and sprawled near the window, concealed by -a screen of hay. He could not see over the ranch-house, except at a -distance, but his little window gave him a fairly good view of the -country toward Broken Cañon. - -Apollo wandered about the patio, possibly wondering why no one was -about. Mocking-birds sang from the twisted vines along the walls, and -little lizards scuttled here and there over the débris of the former -bunk-house. Hashknife yawned and waited, wondering what success Sleepy -had had in gathering a posse. - -He had been there over an hour, when his keen eyes detected two -riders, who seemed to be coming swiftly toward the ranch from the -northeast. Blue Wells was almost directly north. He wondered if some -of the posse had turned back from going to Broken Cañon and were -coming to the ranch. - -When about a mile from the ranch they swung due west, passing from -Hashknife’s vision. He went to the rear of the loft, and peered from a -crack. The riders came into sight, swinging in toward the ranch again, -but disappeared into the cañon where Hashknife had captured Plenty -Goode, following the mysterious shot from the hill. - -It took them several minutes to cross the cañon, and he saw them draw -rein in the heavy cover, where they stayed for about five minutes, -evidently studying the ranch buildings. Their elevation gave them a -good view of the whole country. - -Finally they rode down toward the stable. Hashknife was unable to -recognize them, nor did he recognize their horses—a roan and a gray. -Softly Hashknife went back to his former position at the window. He -heard the riders come in behind the stable, where they stopped. After -a few moments he heard them in the stable, talking softly. One of them -laughed, but their conversation was too indistinct for Hashknife to -hear what was said. - -He was so intent on listening that he was not aware they were out of -the stable, until he turned his head and saw them going into the -patio. - -It rather amused Hashknife to see that these men were both masked. One -of them went to the ranch-house door, finding it locked. It was -evident to Hashknife that these men were sure that every one had left -the ranch. They conferred together for a moment, and one of them came -toward Hashknife, stopping on the ruins of the bunk-house, while the -other man swung up on the wall near the corner of the ranch-house and -scanned the country. - -Slowly Hashknife slid back across the floor, until he reached the -ladder, which led down from the loft. He went down the ladder and -walked softly to the door, where he peered around the edge. He could -hear the sound of some one digging; the dull thud of adobe bricks -being thrown aside, but he could not see either of the men now. - -Drawing his six-shooter Hashknife went slowly and carefully across the -space between the stable door and the patio wall. He could hear the -digging plainly now. Then he heard one of the men snap out a curse. It -was evidently the man on the wall, because the answering voice was -just beyond— - -“What’s the matter?” - -“That —— posse must ’a’ seen us! They’re comin’!” - -The two men were running now, and Hashknife expected them to come -through the broken wall past him, but instead they went out the south -entrance of the patio, possibly with the intention of keeping the -ranch buildings between them and the approaching posse, and circling -back to their horses. - -Disregarding the fact that the odds were two to one, Hashknife ran -swiftly along the wall, coming out within fifty feet of the two men, -who were humped over, running as low as possible. There was no time -for them to turn; nothing to do but fight or surrender. It was still a -hundred feet to the cover of the brush, and Hashknife was between them -and the stable. But neither of them thought of surrender. Hashknife -fired, as the two men whirled to a stop and drew their guns. One of -them went to his knees, and his bullet tore up a spurt of dust -half-way between him and Hashknife, and the other man’s bullet sang -wide of its target. He fired again, but his bullet went skyward, -because the shock of Hashknife’s next bullet threw him backward. The -man who was on his knees fired again, but so wildly that Hashknife did -not even hear the bullet. - -Then he tried to get to his feet, pitched forward on his face and lay -still. The other man did not move, except that he half turned over. -Hashknife went slowly up to them, his jaw shut grimly. He had shot -deliberately, slowly—only twice. Even with the two-to-one odds, the -advantage had been with him, because he had been ready for the battle. - -Hashknife did not make any examination of the men. He heard the -drumming of hoofs, as the posse rode up, and in a few moments they -were surrounded by excited men—the nine men who had ridden out of Blue -Wells with Sleepy. - -“My ——, it’s Al Porter and Chet Le Moyne!” exclaimed the sheriff, -tearing the masks off the two men. “Hartley, what does this mean?” - -He came to Hashknife, gripping his arm. “It means that an officer of -the law went wrong,” said Hashknife coldly. - -“But how?” demanded the excited sheriff. “My ——, this needs more -explanation than that, Hartley.” - -“Go easy,” advised Sleepy, who turned to Hashknife. “We wasn’t quite -to the Broken Cañon, when we spotted these two riders. They were -headin’ this way, foggin’ to beat ——; so we follered.” - -“Good thing yuh did, Sleepy.” - -Questions volleyed at Hashknife, while others examined Le Moyne and -Porter, but Hashknife brushed them all aside. - -“They’re both as dead as herrin’,” said Johnny Grant. - -Two more riders came—Antelope Neal and Lee Barnhardt. - -“We missed the posse; so came here to see what we could do to help,” -said Neal. - -Barnhardt squinted at the dead men, but said nothing. - -“Will yuh please tell us what it means?” asked the sheriff. “You ain’t -told anythin’ yet, yuh know, Hartley.” - -Hashknife smiled grimly. - -“There ain’t much to tell, Scotty. These men came here, wearin’ masks. -They tried to get away when they saw yuh comin’, but I blocked ’em, -and we shot it out.” - -“Oh, I can see that! But—” - -“Good ——! Here comes some more!” Johnny Grant’s yell turned all -interest away from Hashknife. - -It was Marion and Jimmy on one horse, leading another horse, on which -was roped a swaying figure of a man, his body slouched forward until -his face was almost buried in his chest. Jimmy was riding behind -Marion, clinging to her, while he swayed weakly, a silly smile on his -dirty face. - -Men ran to them, while others unroped the sagging figure on the other -horse. It was Dug Haley, of the Santa Rita mine. He was conscious, but -unable to stand. Willing hands lifted Jimmy off the horse, but his -left leg was too sore for him to stand on it for several moments. - -“I—I got him,” Jimmy told Hashknife hoarsely. “Filled him full of -shot. We had a regular battle down in the cañon.” - -The sheriff was goggling from one to another, trying to get things -straightened out to his own mind. Hashknife went to Marion. - -“Tell us what you know about it, Marion,” he said. - -“Oh, I don’t know very much, Hashknife. Three masked men came, and -they—I heard the noise, when they fought with Jimmy, and came out to -see what it was about. They had knocked him down, and I thought he was -dead. - -“They told me to not be afraid, and that everything would be all -right. It seems that I wasn’t to be hurt. They put me on a horse, and -we went to Broken Cañon, where two of the men turned back. They were -masked all the time; so I wasn’t just sure who they were, because they -changed their voices. - -“One man took me down into the cañon, and I think he heard Jimmy -coming. Anyway, he tied the horses and went back toward the bottom of -the trail. I heard a lot of shooting, and I was sure somebody was -trying to help me, but I never thought it was Jimmy, until he shot Dug -Haley. - -“We had a hard time getting him on a horse, because Jimmy was so weak -he couldn’t help much. But we made it. We’ve got to get Jimmy to a -doctor, because he’s all cut to pieces.” - -Haley was sitting on the ground, goggling at every one. He had lost a -lot of blood, but his mind was clear. Hashknife saw him eying the -bodies of Le Moyne and Porter; so he stepped over to him. - -“Haley,” he said kindly, “the game is up. You better come clean, -because yo’re the last of the three men who stole that pay-roll. Al -Porter did not go to Encinas the night of the robbery, and more than -that, he and that girl of his busted up two months ago. Which one of -yuh rode Buck Taylor’s gray horse that night, and had to kill it up -there in that little cañon?” - -“That was me.” Haley spoke hoarsely. - -“Oh, ——, I might as well admit it. Le Moyne schemed it, and we helped -him. But our luck broke bad. Le Moyne had to be at the depot when the -train came in, and Porter had to be on the other side of Broken Cañon -to pick up a freight early in the mornin’—or when one come along; so -it was up to me to take the money to Santa Rita, where we was goin’ to -hide it. - -“I kinda got off in my bearing, in the dark, and found myself too far -south. Then that —— gray horse fell and busted a leg. I had to kill -it, yuh see. Then I had all that-gold to carry. It wasn’t safe to -cache it in the hills, because I didn’t know the country well enough.” - -Haley smiled grimly. - -“I seen the light from the ranch-house, and I was sure it was the -Double Bar 8; so I packed the gold down here, lookin’ for a place to -hide it. Back of the bunk-house I found a hole under the foundation. I -scratched a match and looked it over. It wasn’t big enough for -anythin’ but a small dog to get through; so I shoved that money under -the bunk-house, and went back to the mine.” - -“And then dynamited the bunk-house, eh?” queried the sheriff. - -“Like ——, we did! That’s why we kidnaped the girl. We wanted to draw -everybody away; so we could dig the —— money out of the ruins. But we -wasn’t goin’ to hurt her. I was to keep her in the cañon until about -noon, and then let her come home. Our idea was to get Hartley and -Stevens away from here long enough to let us get the money.” - -“And it’s still under all that adobe, eh?” smiled Hashknife. - -“If Le Moyne and Porter didn’t get it out. I wish you’d get me to a -doctor. I’m full of buckshot. That —— tenderfoot! We didn’t count him -in a-tall.” - -“I didn’t need to be counted,” croaked Jimmy. “But what I want to know -is, who shot me, and who blew up the bunk-house?” - -Hashknife stepped over and put a hand on Barnhardt’s shoulder. The -Blue Wells attorney’s lips went white and he tried to draw away. - -“You tell ’em about it,” advised Hashknife. “Just be a man and speak -yore little piece, Barnhardt.” - -“Me?” whispered Barnhardt. “Why—why—I don’t know—” - -“Do yuh want me to tell it?” - -Barnhardt’s legs jiggled nervously and he wet his lips with his -tongue, while his Adam’s apple jiggled convulsively. - -“There’s nun-nothing to—to—” - -“Then I’ll tell it,” said Hashknife. “And if Mr. Barnhardt don’t stand -still, keep his hands where they are and not try to scratch his ribs -around the spot where his gun hangs in a shoulder-holster, I’ll betcha -somebody will add him to the list of casualties. - -“Mr. Barnhardt is a cousin of Mrs. Martha Eaton, of Chicago, who owns -this ranch. For several years Mr. Barnhardt has handled all the -affairs of the X Bar 6. In fact, he grew rich, handling her stock -interests. But she was a simple old lady, with quite extensive -holdings, and she had faith in Mr. Barnhardt. - -“Now, if I make any mistakes, I hope Mr. Barnhardt won’t interrupt, -until I’m finished. A short time ago Mrs. Eaton became an invalid, and -was unable to handle her own business. I reckon the doctors have told -her that she won’t live more than one year more. - -“Still bein’ of sound mind, she decided to make out a will, and in -this will she goes kinda hay-wire, like old folks do, sometimes; so -she picks out a young feller, whose name was James Eaton Legg, a son -of her sister, and wills him the X Bar 6, with the provision that -within a year he be able to present proof that he is capable of -runnin’ this here ranch. - -“And about that time she turns her affairs over to Leesom and Brand, a -law firm in Chicago, who, after lookin’ things over, decides that the -returns from the X Bar 6 need investigatin’. It kinda looks to them as -though that ranch ought to pay more dividends. Accordin’ to their -reports, there’s too many cows out here, and not enough revenue. - -“They takes it up with the Cattle Association of this here State, the -same of which sends me and Sleepy up here to work on the round-up and -send in a tally of the X Bar 6. It appears that Jimmy Legg -accidentally drifts in here, tryin’ make a cowpuncher out of himself; -and our friend Barnhardt, knowin’ that Jimmy might beat him out of a -lot of money, decides to put him out of commission. - -“And I’m not sure, but I think Mr. Barnhardt stole one of my letters -from the Chicago lawyers, and found out what we was doin’ here; so he -plants dynamite under the bunk-house, after he misses two well-meant -shots. Oh, he was a friendly sort of a jigger. Now, Barnhardt, tell us -yore story.” - -But the Blue Wells attorney merely goggled, trying to deny it all with -a shake of his head. - -“You planned to make a getaway, yuh know,” smiled Hashknife. “Yore -little vacation was goin’ to be permanent, but I cracked yore safe the -night before, because I knew yuh wouldn’t go away broke, and I wanted -time to land the train robbers. Yeah, I’ve got all yore stuff. It’ll -send yuh over for a long time.” - -“This is funny,” said Tex Alden. “I had a letter from that same firm, -askin’ me a few questions. It kinda looked to me as though Barnhardt -was playin’ crooked; so I held out that eight thousand and faked a -loss to Antelope Neal, who was in on the game with me. I wanted to see -if Barnhardt was crooked enough to doctor the books for me, but he was -pretty shrewd, and I really got afraid he might have me arrested for -embezzlement and put me in pretty bad; so me and Neal marked all those -bills and I gave ’em back to him.” - -Hashknife held out his hand to Tex. - -“I couldn’t figure yuh out for quite a while,” said Hashknife smiling. - -“Barnhardt sure tried to put me in bad, Hartley. He told me about that -pay-roll comin’ in, because he thought I’d do anythin’ to pay him back -that eight thousand, and he also wanted his split of the thirty -thousand dollars.” - -Jimmy had gone to the house, and now he came staggering back, followed -by Geronimo, barking joyfully. The sheriff turned from handcuffing -Barnhardt, and stared at the dog. - -“We had him in the cellar,” laughed Hashknife. “He’s the dog that was -on the express car, and Jimmy Legg is the big burly who fought with -the messenger.” - -The boys crowded around Jimmy, slapping him on the back; which, under -the circumstances, did not appeal to Jimmy, who was just beginning to -find out how sore he really was. - -“Lemme alone, you man-chasers!” he yelped. “I was tough for an hour or -so, but I’m sure tender now.” - -“Talks like a cowpuncher,” said Eskimo gravely. - -“Looks like a cowpuncher,” added Johnny. - -“Fights like one,” groaned Dug Haley. “When yuh get through throwin’ -bouquets, I wish you’d take me to a doctor.” - -Hashknife grinned at the wreck of what had been James Eaton Legg, the -bookkeeper, and nodded solemnly. - -“I reckon we’ll be able to tell Leesom and Brand that Jimmy Legg has -qualified,” he said earnestly. - -“And if I was Jimmy Legg, I’d put on some clothes,” said Sleepy. -“Cowboy, yo’re a fright.” - -Jimmy grinned, started toward the house, followed by Marion. But Jimmy -shoved her ahead of him, because he just remembered that he had slid -half-way down Broken Cañon, sitting down. Tex looked after them, a -half-smile on his face, as he turned to Hashknife. - -The posse was putting the bodies in the ranch wagon, and two of the -men were assisting the sheriff, who had put Dug Haley on the -wagon-seat, and was helping the dazed lawyer to mount his sway-backed -horse. The handcuffs bothered Barnhardt, and he was breathing like an -asthmatic. - -“You don’t act very sore about it,” said Hashknife, nodding toward -where Marion and Jimmy were disappearing into the house. - -Tex shrugged his shoulders. - -“I know when I’m whipped,” he said, with just a trace of bitterness in -his voice. “It seems that Legg didn’t. If yuh want me to sign that -affidavit, regardin’ his ability, bring it around. Leesom and Brand -know I wouldn’t be fool enough to wish him on to me as a boss, unless -he was capable—and I’ll teach him all I know.” - -“That’s square enough,” nodded Hashknife. “Wait until I saddle my -bronc, and I’ll ride to Blue Wells with yuh. Me and Sleepy have got to -peddle a couple of horses before that train pulls through.” - -“Yo’re not leavin’ so soon, are yuh?” - -Marion and Jimmy were coming from the ranch-house, and with them was -Nanah, her head bandaged up. Geronimo circled them, barking with joy. -Jimmy was clad in a baggy pair of overalls and a shirt three sizes too -large for him. The face-washing operation had opened the cuts on -Jimmy’s face, and he was beginning to look like a war-path Indian. - -“We’ll all three ride in the buggy,” said Marion. “Jimmy is too weak -and sore to ride a horse, and Nanah won’t.” - -Tex offered to hitch up the horse, and Marion went with him to the -stable. Hashknife drew Jimmy aside. - -“I reckon you’ve made good, Jimmy,” Hashknife said slowly. “I’ll see -that the right report goes to Leesom and Brand. You’ll marry and -settle down on the X Bar 6, I reckon, eh?” - -“Marry and settle down?” - -“Yeah—sure. You’ll marry her, won’t yuh?” - -“Marion? Why—” - -Jimmy hesitated, his eyes turning toward the stable door, where Marion -and Tex were standing. Marion was looking down at the ground, but now -she looked up at him, a smile on her face. Tex started to reach toward -her, realized that he had an audience, and they both stepped inside -the stable. Jimmy grinned and shook his head. - -“Why, no, I don’t reckon I will, Hashknife. That whips me.” - -And Jimmy wondered why Hashknife laughed so suddenly and walked to his -horse. He did not know that Tex had admitted defeat, too. When the -buggy, with its three occupants started up the road toward Blue Wells, -with Tex Alden riding beside it, far in the distance they could see a -lone rider—Hashknife Hartley, riding swiftly to join Sleepy, that they -might dispose of their horses and catch the first train out of town. -Their work was done—and the other side of the hill was calling. - - -[Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the November 23, 1926 -issue of Adventure magazine.] - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BUCKAROO OF BLUE WELLS *** - -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. 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C. Tuttle</title> - <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover" /> - <style> - body { margin-left:8%; margin-right:8%; } - p { text-indent:1.15em; margin-top:0.1em; margin-bottom:0.1em; text-align:justify; } - h2 { text-align:center; font-weight:normal; page-break-before: always; - font-size:1.0em; margin-top:3em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; } - .ce { text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; } - .poetry { display:block; text-align:left; } - .poetry .stanza { margin-top:0.7em; margin-bottom:0.7em; margin-left:4em; } - .poetry .verse { text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em; } - .poetry-container { text-align: center; } - h1 { text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size:1.4em; margin-top:3em; margin-bottom:0; } - .w001 { margin-left:15%; width:70% } - .x-ebookmaker .w001 { margin-left:5%; width:90% } - .w002 { margin-left:30%; width:40% } - .x-ebookmaker .w002 { margin-left:20%; width:60% } - </style> -</head> -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Buckaroo of Blue Wells, by W. C. Tuttle</p> -<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> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Buckaroo of Blue Wells</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: W. C. Tuttle</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: February 18, 2022 [eBook #67431]</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. This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive.</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BUCKAROO OF BLUE WELLS ***</div> -<div class='ce'> -<h1>Buckaroo of Blue Wells </h1> -<div>By W. C. Tuttle</div> -</div> -<div id='i001' style='margin-top:1em;margin-bottom:1em;' class='w001'> - <img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' /> -</div> -<h2>I—BOOKKEEPERS</h2> - -<p>James Eaton Legg hooked his heels over the rounds of his high stool, -stretched wearily and looked out through the none-too-clean windows to -where a heavy fog almost obscured the traffic. Heavy trucks lumbered -past, grinding harshly over the cobbles. Somewhere a street-car -motorman did a trap-drum effect on his gong; a ferry boat whistled -boomingly. And there was the incessant roar of the every-day noises of -the commercial district.</p> - -<p>James Eaton Legg was not a prepossessing person. He was less than -thirty years of age, slightly beneath medium height, slender. His face -was thin, rather boyish, his mild blue eyes hidden behind a pair of -glasses. His mouth was wide, and when he yawned wearily he showed a -good set of teeth.</p> - -<p>For several years James had been a bookkeeper with Mellon & Co., -Wholesale Grocers, San Francisco—and he was still acting in the same -capacity. His slightly stooped shoulders attested to the fact that -James had bent diligently over his work. Whether fortunately, or -unfortunately, James was an orphan. His mother had died while he was -still very young, and when James had just finished high school, his -father had gone the way of all flesh.</p> - -<p>James was cognizant of the fact that somewhere in the world he had -some relatives, but that fact caused him little concern. He remembered -that his mother had a sister, who was well endowed with worldly goods, -and he also remembered that his father had said that his Aunt Martha -would probably die with all her wealth intact.</p> - -<p>James turned from his contemplation of the foggy street, and his blue -eyes studied the occupants of the big office. There was Henry Marsh, -humped like an old buzzard, his long nose close to the ledger page, as -he had been the first time James had seen him. He had grown old with -Mellon & Co.—so old that he worried about his job.</p> - -<p>There were younger men, working adding machines, delving in accounts; -preparing themselves for a life of drudgery. Over in the cashier’s -cage was David Conley, frozenfaced, pathetic; as old as Mellon & Co. -James shuddered slightly. If he lived to be seventy, and worked -faithfully, he might occupy that cage.</p> - -<p>James was being paid the munificent sum of seventy dollars a month. He -happened to know that David Conley drew one hundred and fifty dollars -in his monthly envelope. James shook his head and shifted his gaze -back to the window. He did not feel like working. It all seemed so -useless; this idea of putting down figures and adding them up; eating, -sleeping, and coming back to put down more figures.</p> - -<p>He turned from contemplation of the wet street, and looked at Blair -Mellon, senior member of the firm, who had come in from his private -office. He was nearing seventy, thin, stooped, irascible. Nothing -seemed to please him. His beady eyes shifted from one employee to -another, as he walked slowly. He had made a success of business, but a -wreck of himself. The boys of the firm called him “Caucus,” because of -the fact that once a week he would hold a caucus in the office, at -which time he would impress upon them the fact that the firm was -everything, and that nothing else mattered.</p> - -<p>He would invite suggestions from department heads, and when an idea -did not please him he would fly into a rage. James Eaton Legg mildly -suggested at one of the caucuses that the firm supply each bookkeeper -with a fountain pen, in order to economize on lost motions—and nearly -lost his job. Not because of trying to increase the efficiency of the -bookkeeping department, but because fountain pens cost money.</p> - -<p>All the firm mail came to Blair Mellon’s office, and it was his -delight to distribute it. Just now he had several letters which he was -passing out. He walked past James, stopped. James was looking at the -street again. The old man scowled at the letters in his hand, one of -which was addressed to James Eaton Legg. It bore the imprint of a -Chicago law firm.</p> - -<p>Blair Mellon did not believe that a bookkeeper should waste his time -in looking out of the window, but just now he couldn’t think of a -fitting rebuke; so he placed the letter on James Legg’s desk and went -on.</p> - -<p>James Legg’s mild blue eyes contemplated the name of the law firm on -the envelope. It all looked so very legal that James wondered what it -might all mean. He drew out the enclosure and read it carefully. Then -he removed his glasses, polished them carefully, and read it again. -Then he propounded inelegantly, but emphatically—</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ll be ——!”</p> - -<p>Blair Mellon had come back past the desk just in time to hear this -exclamation. He stopped short and stared at James.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Legg!” he said curtly. “You evidently forget the rule against -profanity in this office.”</p> - -<p>But James Legg ignored everything, except his own thoughts.</p> - -<p>“If that don’t beat ——, what does?” he queried.</p> - -<p>Blair Mellon stared aghast. This was downright mutiny. He struggled -for the proper words with which to rebuke this young man.</p> - -<p>“Say, Caucus,” said James, giving Mellon the nickname he had never -heard before, “where do they raise cattle?”</p> - -<p>“Were you speaking to me, sir?” demanded Mellon.</p> - -<p>James realized what he had said, and for a moment his face flushed.</p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon, Mr. Mellon.”</p> - -<p>“I should think you would, sir. Such language!”</p> - -<p>It seemed that all work had ceased in the office. Not even a telephone -bell rang.</p> - -<p>“Have you any excuse for speaking in such a manner?” demanded the old -man, conscious that every one had heard.</p> - -<p>James Eaton Legg surveyed the room. Every eye was upon him. He noticed -that even the stenographers had ceased chewing their gum. Then James -Legg laughed, as he drew off his black sateen oversleeves and cast -them aside. He slid off his stool, almost into the irate Mellon.</p> - -<p>“Well, sir!” the old man’s voice creaked.</p> - -<p>“Aw, save it for somebody that’s working for you,” said James Legg -easily. “I’ve quit.”</p> - -<p>“Quit?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Strange, isn’t it?” James Legg smiled at the old man. -“Bookkeepers don’t usually quit, do they? No, they stick to the job -until their chin hits their knees, and the undertaker has to put them -in a press for two days before they’ll fit a casket. I suppose the -cashier will pay me off, Mr. Mellon.”</p> - -<p>“Well—er—yes, sir! It is just as well that you do quit. This is very, -very unusual for an employee of Mellon and Company to—”</p> - -<p>“To quit?” smiled James. “Sets a precedent.”</p> - -<p>“Ordinarily, we would offer a letter of recommendation, but in a case -of—”</p> - -<p>“Couldn’t use it, but thank you just the same, Mr. Mellon. I am -through keeping books. I’m going to take a job where I can breathe -fresh air, smoke a cigaret on the job and swear when I —— please.”</p> - -<p>The old man’s lean jaw set tightly for a moment, but he said icily:</p> - -<p>“And what are you going to do, if I may ask?”</p> - -<p>“Me?” James Legg smiled broadly around the room. “I’m going to be a -cowpuncher.”</p> - -<p>“A—a—what?”</p> - -<p>“A cowboy, if that makes it plain to you.”</p> - -<p>One of the stenographers tittered. She had her own idea of a cowboy, -possibly not from the real article; so she might be forgiven for -seeing humor in Legg’s statement. He flushed a little, turned on his -heel and went to the wash-room, every one looking after him. Blair -Mellon broke the spell with—</p> - -<p>“The incident is over, I believe, ladies and gentlemen.”</p> - -<p>Which was sufficient to put them all back to work, while James Eaton -Legg accepted his pay from the stiff-faced cashier and walked out into -the foggy street. He felt just a little weak over it all. It was hard -to realize that he was at last without a job.</p> - -<p>It was the first time in years that he had been without a job, and the -situation rather appalled him, and he stopped on a corner, wondering -whether he hadn’t been just a trifle abrupt in quitting Mellon & -Company.</p> - -<p>But he realized that the die was cast; so he went to his -boarding-house and to his room, where he secured an old atlas. -Spreading out a map on the bed he studied the western States. Arizona -seemed to appeal to him; so he ran a pencil-point along the railroad -lines, wondering just where in Arizona he would care to make his -start.</p> - -<p>The pencil-point stopped at Blue Wells, and he instinctively made a -circle around the name. It seemed rather isolated, and James Legg had -an idea that it must be a cattle country. Something or somebody was -making a noise at his door; so he got up from the bed.</p> - -<p>He opened the door and found that the noise had been made by a dog; a -rough-coated mongrel, yellowish-red, with one black eye, which gave -him a devil-may-care expression. He was dirty and wet, panting from a -hard run, but he sat up and squinted at James Legg, his tongue hanging -out.</p> - -<p>“Where did you come from, dog?” demanded James. “I don’t think I have -ever seen you before.”</p> - -<p>The dog held up one wet paw, and James shook hands with him solemnly. -Came the sound of a heavy voice down-stairs, and the dog shot past -James and went under the bed. The voice was audible now, and James -could distinguish the high-pitched voice of the landlady, raised in -protest.</p> - -<p>“But I tell ye I seen him come in here, ma’am,” declared the heavy -voice. “A kind of a yaller one, he was.”</p> - -<p>“But no one in this house owns a dog,” protested the landlady. “We -don’t allow dogs in here.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t ye? And have ye the rules printed in dog language, so that the -dogs would know it, ma’am? Belike he’s in one of the halls, tryin’ to -hide.”</p> - -<p>“I’m sure you’re mistaken, officer. But I’ll go with you, if you care -to make a search of the halls.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll do that, ma’am.”</p> - -<p>James closed his door, leaving only a crack wide enough for him to see -the landlady, followed by a big burly policeman, come to the head of -the stairs. They came past his door, and he heard them farther down -the hall. The dog was still under the bed, and as they came back James -stepped into the hall.</p> - -<p>“We are looking for a yellow dog, Mr. Legg,” explained the landlady. -“You haven’t seen one, have you?”</p> - -<p>“Sort of yaller and red,” supplemented the officer.</p> - -<p>James shook his head. “Must be an important yellow dog to have the -police hunting for him.”</p> - -<p>“He’s important to me,” growled the officer. “Jist a dirty stray, so -he is.”</p> - -<p>“But why are you hunting for a stray dog, officer?”</p> - -<p>“Because he’s a dangerous dog. I threw a rock at him, tryin’ to chase -him off me beat, and the dirty cur picked up the rock and brought it -back to me.”</p> - -<p>“A retriever, eh?”</p> - -<p>“I dunno his breed.”</p> - -<p>“But that doesn’t make him dangerous.”</p> - -<p>“Then I took a kick at him and he bit me, so he did. He tore the leg -of me pants and I had to go home and change. I didn’t no more than get -back on me beat, when there he was, probably lookin’ for another -chance at me legs. But I took after him and I was sure he ran in -here.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’m sure he never did,” said the landlady. “But we’ll look in -the other halls.”</p> - -<p>James went back in the room and found the dog sitting in the middle of -the floor, one ear cocked up, his brown eyes fixed on James, his -tongue hanging out, as if he had heard all of the conversation and was -laughing at the policeman.</p> - -<p>James held out his hand and they shook seriously.</p> - -<p>“Dog,” said James seriously, “you did what I’ve often thought I’d like -to do—bite a policeman. I swore out loud in Mellon and Company’s -office, and you bit a cop. We’re a disgraceful pair. I’m wondering if -you’re a cattle dog—” James sighed heavily— “Well, anyway, you’re as -much of a cattle dog as I am a cowpuncher. Sit down and make yourself -at home.”</p> - -<p>It was half an hour later that James Eaton Legg walked out of his -room, carrying a heavy valise, while behind him came the dog, walking -carefully, peering around the legs of his newly found master.</p> - -<p>At the foot of the stairs they met the landlady. She stared at the dog -and at James.</p> - -<p>“That was the dog the policeman was looking for!” she exclaimed in a -horrified screech. “Don’t let him come toward me! You get that dog out -of here, Mr. Legg! You know we don’t allow dogs in here. Take him—”</p> - -<p>“That dog,” said James calmly, “is very particular who he bites, -ma’am. If my bill is ready—”</p> - -<p>“Oh, are you leaving us, Mr. Legg?”</p> - -<p>“Yes’m, me and—er—Geronimo are leaving. If any mail comes for me, -forward it to Jim Legg, Blue Wells, Arizona.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes. Blue Wells, Arizona. Are you going out there for your -health?”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Jim Legg, as he paid his bill, “I don’t know just how -it’ll affect me physically. It’ll probably be a good thing for -Geronimo—give him a change of diet. And for the good of the police -force I suppose I better phone for a taxi.”</p> - -<p>And thus did Jim Legg, erstwhile James Eaton Legg, quit his job, adopt -a dog and start for Blue Wells, just an isolated spot on the map of -Arizona—all in the same day.</p> - -<h2>II—THE PREACHER’S HORSE</h2> - -<p>It was the biggest two-handed poker game ever played in Blue Wells, -and when “Antelope Jim” Neal, owner of the Blue Wells Oasis Saloon, -raked in the last pot, “Tex” Alden rubbed the back of his hand across -his dry lips and shut his weary eyes. He had lost eight thousand -dollars.</p> - -<p>“Is that all, Tex?” asked Neal, and his voice held a hope that the big -cowboy would answer in the affirmative. The game had never ceased for -thirty-six hours.</p> - -<p>“As far as I’m concerned,” said Tex slowly. “I don’t owe yuh anythin’, -do I?”</p> - -<p>“Not a cent, Tex. Have a drink?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah—whisky.”</p> - -<p>Tex got to his feet, stretching himself wearily. He was well over six -feet tall, habitually gloomy of countenance. His hair was black, as -were his jowls, even after a close shave. There were dark circles -around his brown eyes, and his hand trembled as he poured out a full -glass of liquor and swallowed it at a gulp.</p> - -<p>“Here’s better luck next time, Tex,” said Neal.</p> - -<p>“Throw it into yuh,” said Tex shortly. “But as far as luck is -concerned—”</p> - -<p>“It did kinda break against yuh, Tex.”</p> - -<p>“Kinda, ——! Well, see yuh later.”</p> - -<p>Tex adjusted his hat and walked outside, while Neal went to his room -at the back of the saloon, threw off his clothes and piled into bed. -At the bar several cowboys added another drink to their already large -collection and marveled at the size of Tex Alden’s losses.</p> - -<p>“’F I lost that much, I’d have a —— of a time buyin’ any Christmas -presents for m’ friends, next December,” said Johnny Grant, a -diminutive cowboy from the AK ranch.</p> - -<p>“There ain’t that much money,” declared “Eskimo” Swensen, two hundred -pounds of authority on any subject, who also drew forty dollars per -month from the AK. “It takes over sixteen years of steady work, -without spendin’ a cent, to make that much money. Never let anybody -tell yuh that there is any eight thousand in one lump sum.”</p> - -<p>“And that statement carries my indorsement,” nodded the third hired -man of the AK, “Oyster” Shell, a wry-necked, buck-toothed specimen of -the genus cowboy, whose boot-heels were so badly run over on the outer -sides that it was difficult for him to attain his full height.</p> - -<p>“There has been that much,” argued Johnny. “I ’member one time when I -had—”</p> - -<p>“Eighty,” interrupted Oyster. “Yuh got so drunk you seen a coupla -extra ciphers, Johnny. I feel m’self stretchin’ a point to let yuh -have eighty.”</p> - -<p>“I votes for eight,” declared Eskimo heavily.</p> - -<p>“Eight thousand ain’t so awful much,” said “Doc” Painter, the -bartender, who wore a curl on his forehead, and who was a human -incense stick, reeking of violets.</p> - -<p>Johnny looked closely at Doc, placed his Stetson on the bar and -announced—</p> - -<p>“Mister Rockerbilt will now take the stand and speak on ‘Money I Have -Seen.’”</p> - -<p>“Misser Rockerbilt,” Oyster bowed his head against the bar and stepped -on his new hat before he could recover it.</p> - -<p>“A-a-a-aw, ——!” snorted the bartender. “I’ve seen more than eight -thousand, I’ll tell yuh that. I’ve had—”</p> - -<p>“Now, Doc,” warned Eskimo. “Seein’ and havin’ are two different -things. We all know that yuh came from a wealthy family, who gave yuh -everythin’ yuh wanted, and nothin’ yuh needed. But if you ever try to -make us believe that you had eight thousand dollars, we’ll sure as —— -kick yuh out of our Sunday-school, because yuh never came by it -honestly.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, and yuh don’t need to say we ain’t got no Sunday-school,” added -Oyster hastily. “Last Sunday—”</p> - -<p>“I heard about it.”</p> - -<p>The bartender carefully polished a glass, breathing delicately upon it -the while.</p> - -<p>“Lemme have that glass a minute,” said Johnny, and the unsuspecting -bartender gave it to him. Johnny selected a place on the bar-rail and -proceeded to smash the glass.</p> - -<p>“What the —— did yuh do that for?” demanded the bartender hotly.</p> - -<p>“What for?” Johnny lifted his brows and stared at the bartender with -innocent eyes.</p> - -<p>“Yea-a-ah! Why smash that glass?”</p> - -<p>“Well, yuh can’t expect anybody to ever drink out of it, could yuh? -After you yawnin’ upon it thataway, Doc. I know—well I don’t want to -draw it.”</p> - -<p>“——, that don’t hurt the glass!”</p> - -<p>“Well, of all things!” shrilled Oyster. “As long as the glass don’t -get hurt, everythin’ is all right. I’ll betcha he’s yawned upon every -glass he’s got. If we was ever goin’ to drink in this place again, I’d -argue in favor of smashin’ every glass he’s got on that back bar.”</p> - -<p>And the bartender knew that the AK outfit were entirely capable of -doing just such a thing. But they were not quite drunk enough to -accept Oyster’s suggestion. At any rate their minds were diverted by -the entrance of “Scotty” Olson, the big lumbering sheriff of Blue -Wells, whose sense of humor was not quite as big nor as lively as a -fever germ.</p> - -<p>Scotty wore a buffalo-horn mustache, which matched the huge eyebrows -that shaded his little eyes. He was a powerful person, huge of hand, -heavy-voiced, rather favoring a sawed-off, double-barreled shotgun, -which he handled with one hand.</p> - -<p>“The law is among us,” said Johnny seriously. “Have a little drink, -Mister Law?”</p> - -<p>“No.” Scotty was without finesse.</p> - -<p>“Have a cigar?” asked Eskimo.</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“Have a chaw?” queried Oyster pleasantly.</p> - -<p>“No. I was just talkin’ with the preacher.”</p> - -<p>“Tryin’ to reform yuh?” asked Johnny.</p> - -<p>“Reform? No. He wants to know which one of you punchers tin-canned his -horse?”</p> - -<p>The three cowboys looked at each other. Their expression of amazement -was rather overdone. The bartender chuckled, and Johnny turned -quickly.</p> - -<p>“What in —— is so funny about it, Doc?” he demanded. “It’s no laughin’ -matter, I’d tell a man,” he turned to the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“You surely don’t think we’d do a thing like that, Sheriff.”</p> - -<p>“I dunno,” the sheriff scratched his head, tilting his hat down over -one eye.</p> - -<p>“My ——, that would be sacrilege!” exclaimed Eskimo.</p> - -<p>“The Last Warnin’,” corrected Oyster seriously, not knowing the -meaning of sacrilege. The Last Warnin’ was an ancient sway-backed -white horse, which the minister drove to an old wobble-wheeled buggy. -He had a mean eye and a propensity for digging his old hammer-shaped -head into the restaurant garbage cans.</p> - -<p>“It ain’t funny,” said the sheriff. “There ain’t nothin’ funny about -tin-cannin’ a horse. Louie Sing’s big copper slop-can is missin’, and -Louie swears that he’s goin’ to sue the preacher. I reckon it’s up to -you boys to pay the preacher for his horse and Louie Sing for his -copper can. The preacher says that fifty is about right for the horse, -and Louie swears that he can’t replace the can for less than ten.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” sighed Johnny, “all I can say is that you and the preacher and -the Chink are plumb loco, if you think we’re goin’ to pay sixty -dollars for a—for somethin’ we never done.”</p> - -<p>“Where’d we get sixty dollars—even if we was guilty?” wondered Oyster.</p> - -<p>“Yuh might make it in Sunday-school,” suggested the bartender.</p> - -<p>“In Sunday-school? What do yuh mean?”</p> - -<p>“Well,” grinned Doc, “I hear that one of yuh put a four-bit piece in -the collection plate and took out ninety-five cents in change.”</p> - -<p>Whether or not there was any truth in the statement, Johnny Grant took -sudden exceptions to it and flung himself across the bar, pawing at -the bartender, whose shoulders collided with the stacked glassware on -the back bar, as he tried to escape the clawing hands.</p> - -<p>“Stop that!” yelled the sheriff.</p> - -<p>He rushed at Johnny, trying to save the worthy bartender from assault, -but one of his big boots became entangled with the feet of Oyster -Shell, and he sprawled on his face, narrowly missing the bar-rail, -while into him fell Eskimo Olson, backward, of course, his spurs -catching in the sheriff’s vest and shirt and almost disrobing him.</p> - -<p>With a roar of wrath the sheriff got to his feet, made an ineffectual -swing at Eskimo, and ran at Oyster, who had backed to the center of -the room, holding a chair in both hands. The sheriff was so wrathy -that he ignored the chair, until Oyster flung it down against his -shins, and the sheriff turned a complete somersault, which knocked all -the breath out of him.</p> - -<p>Johnny Grant had swung around on the bar in time to see the sheriff -crash down, ignoring the perspiring bartender, who, armed with a -bottle, had backed to the end of the bar. The sheriff got to his feet, -one foot still fast between the rounds of the chair, and looked -vacantly around. Then he grinned foolishly and headed for the front -door, dragging the chair.</p> - -<p>It tripped him as he went across the threshold and he fell on his -knees outside. Then he got to his feet, tore the offending chair -loose, flung it viciously out into the street, and went lurching -toward his office, scratching his head, as if wondering what it was -all about.</p> - -<p>“Knocked back seven generations,” whooped Eskimo, as he clung to -Johnny Grant, who in turn was hugging Oyster.</p> - -<p>“Mamma Mine, I hope t’ die!” whooped Johnny. “Oh, don’t show me no -more! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! He never even seen that chair!”</p> - -<p>They went into more paroxysms of mirth, while the bartender smoothed -his vest, placed his bottle back behind the bar and got a broom to -sweep up the broken glassware. He knew that he was forgotten for a -while, at least.</p> - -<h2>III—OTHER PEOPLE’S MONEY</h2> - -<p>Tex Alden had left the Oasis and sauntered down the street to where a -weathered sign proclaimed the office of Lee Barnhardt, Attorney at -Law. Barnhardt was a lean, hatchet-faced, keen-eyed sort of person, -possibly forty-five years of age, whose eyes were rather too close -together, ears small and clinging close to his bony head, and chin was -wedge-shaped. His neck was so long and thin that it was the general -opinion in Blue Wells that on Sunday Barnhardt wore a cuff around his -neck instead of a collar.</p> - -<p>Tex Alden and Lee Barnhardt had considerable in common, as Tex was -manager of the X Bar 6 cattle outfit, while Barnhardt was legal -counsel and manager for the same outfit. Tex had always born a fairly -good reputation, except that he was an inveterate gambler. People -admitted that Barnhardt was shrewd, even if they did not like him.</p> - -<p>Barnhardt was busily engaged in cleaning out his old cob pipe when Tex -walked in and sat down, and like all lawyers he kept Tex waiting until -the pipe was cleaned, filled and lighted. Then he turned around on his -creaking swivel-chair and fixed his cold eyes upon Tex.</p> - -<p>“Well?” he managed to say, between puffs.</p> - -<p>“Well, ——!” snorted Tex. “I just finished losing the eight thousand -dollars I got for that shipment to Frisco.”</p> - -<p>Barnhardt’s eyebrows lifted slightly and he sucked heavily on his -extinguished pipe, staring steadily at Tex. Then:</p> - -<p>“You lost it all, eh? Playing poker with Neal?”</p> - -<p>Tex nodded wearily. Barnhardt leaned back in his old chair, squinting -narrowly at the ceiling.</p> - -<p>“That’s a lot of money, Tex,” he said thoughtfully. “It puts you in -pretty bad, don’t yuh think?”</p> - -<p>“Sure. That’s why I came over here, Lee.”</p> - -<p>“Is that so? Thinking, of course, that I can square it for yuh,” -Barnhardt laughed wryly. “It’s quite a job to explain away eight -thousand dollars, Tex. I don’t know why you didn’t bring that check to -me.”</p> - -<p>“They made it out in my name,” said Tex, as if that might mitigate the -fact that he had used eight thousand belonging to the X Bar 6 outfit.</p> - -<p>“That didn’t cause it to belong to you,” reminded Barnhardt. “They can -jail yuh for that, Tex. It’s plain embezzlement. I’ve got to account -for that eight thousand dollars.”</p> - -<p>“How soon, Lee?”</p> - -<p>The lawyer frowned thoughtfully. He knew he could defer the accounting -for a long time, but what good would that do Tex Alden, whose monthly -salary was seventy-five dollars.</p> - -<p>“Got something in sight, Tex?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Not yet,” Tex studied the toes of his dusty boots. “But yuh never can -tell what might turn up.”</p> - -<p>“I see.”</p> - -<p>Barnhardt relaxed and lighted his pipe. After a few puffs he said—</p> - -<p>“I think the Santa Rita pay-roll comes in tonight.”</p> - -<p>“Thasso?” Tex stared at Barnhardt. “How do yuh know?”</p> - -<p>“Chet Le Moyne rode in a while ago. He always shows up just ahead of -the pay-roll and takes it back to the Santa Rita himself.”</p> - -<p>Chet Le Moyne was paymaster of the Santa Rita mine, which employed -close to three hundred men. The mine was located about twelve miles -from Blue Wells. Le Moyne was a handsome sort of a person, -dark-haired, dark-eyed, athletic, although slender. Like Tex Alden, he -was an inveterate gambler, although not inclined to plunge wildly.</p> - -<p>“I think probably he went out to the Taylor ranch,” offered Barnhardt -casually. “He never does stay very long in town.”</p> - -<p>Tex scowled at his boots, and tried to make himself believe that it -didn’t make any difference to him if Le Moyne went out to see Marion -Taylor. But down in his heart he knew it did—a lot of difference. Paul -Taylor owned a small ranch about two miles south of Blue Wells, and -there was no one to deny that Marion Taylor was the best-looking girl -in that country.</p> - -<p>Even Lee Barnhardt had cast covetous eyes in that direction, but -Marion showed small favor to the thin-faced lawyer. In fact, she had -showed little favor to any of the men, treating them all alike. -Perhaps Tex and Le Moyne had been the most persistent suitors.</p> - -<p>Old Paul Taylor, often known as “The Apostle,” did not favor any -certain one as a son-in-law. They were all welcome to call, as far as -he was concerned. Between himself, his son, a wild-riding, hot-headed -youth, known as “Buck,” and one cowboy, a half-breed Navajo, known as -“Peeler,” they managed to eke out a living. Buck and Peeler were as -wild as the ranges around Blue Wells, and The Apostle was not far -behind, when it came to making the welkin ring. The Apostle was a -typical old-time cattleman, who hated to see civilization crowding -into the ranges.</p> - -<p>Barnhardt studied Tex, while the big cowboy humped in a chair and -studied the floor. Finally Tex lifted his head and looked at -Barnhardt.</p> - -<p>“Just why did yuh tell me about the Santa Rita pay-roll comin’ in -tonight, Lee?”</p> - -<p>“No reason, Tex; just conversation, I reckon. It must run close to -thirty thousand dollars. Le Moyne had one man with him. That train -gets in about nine o’clock. Le Moyne probably will ride straight for -the mine. That’s quite a lump of money, Tex. I hear they always pay -off in gold, because there’s quite a lot of Mexicans working there, -and they like the yellow money.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh,” Tex’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Barnhardt. “Thirty -thousand is a lot of money.”</p> - -<p>“It sure is plenty,” nodded Barnhardt. “More than a man could make in -a lifetime out here.”</p> - -<p>Tex got to his feet and rolled a cigaret.</p> - -<p>“Yuh can keep that eight thousand under cover a while, can’tcha, Lee?”</p> - -<p>“For a while, Tex—sure thing.”</p> - -<p>“Thank yuh, Lee. <i>Adios</i>.”</p> - -<p>Tex sauntered out and the lawyer looked after him, a crooked smile on -his lips, feeling that he and Tex Alden understood each other -perfectly. He could look from his window and see Tex get his horse at -the livery-stable and ride away.</p> - -<p>The sheriff did not go back to the Oasis Saloon that afternoon. The -whole incident wasn’t quite clear in his mind. He had a lump on his -forehead, where he hit the floor, and one shin was skinned from the -chair, but he wasn’t quite sure just who was to blame for it all. -Anyway, he wasn’t sure that they had tin-canned the minister’s horse -with Louie Sing’s copper can.</p> - -<p>He wished Al Porter, his deputy, were there. Al knew how to get along -with those fellows from the AK. But Al had gone to Encinas that -afternoon to see his girl, and wouldn’t be back until late that night, -even if he were fortunate enough to catch a freight train. Encinas was -twelve miles east of Blue Wells.</p> - -<p>The election of Scotty Olson had been more or less of a joke. There -had been quite a lot of mud-slinging between the Republican and -Democrat candidates, and a bunch of the boys got together and induced -Scotty to run independently. And while the two favorites in the race, -to use a racing parlance, tried to cut each other down in the stretch, -Scotty, hardly knowing what it was all about, won the election.</p> - -<p>He had appointed Al Porter, a former deputy sheriff, to act as his -deputy and mentor, and the office was really run by Al, much to the -amusement of every one concerned, except Scotty, who was satisfied -that he was making a big reputation for himself.</p> - -<p>Oyster Shell, Johnny Grant and Eskimo Swensen continued to make merry -at the Oasis, mostly at the expense of the bartender, who writhed -under punishment but grinned in spite of it, because he owned an -interest in the Oasis, with Neal, and the boys of the AK were good -patrons.</p> - -<p>It was after dark when Johnny Grant decided that it was time to go -back to the ranch. He announced the fact, and his two companions -suddenly found themselves of the same notion.</p> - -<p>Out to the hitch-rack they weaved their erratic way, only to find the -rack empty of horses. Johnny leaned against the end-post and rubbed -his nose, while Oyster walked up and down both sides of the rack, -running one hand along the top-bar.</p> - -<p>“Nossin’ here,” he declared. “’F there’s a horsh at thish rack, I -can’t fin’ him. Whatcha shay, Eskimo?”</p> - -<p>“I shed,” replied Eskimo heavily, “I shed, tha’s queer.”</p> - -<p>“Isn’ it queer?” asked Oyster. “I ask you open and ’bove board, ain’t -it queer? Whazzamatter, Johnny—gone in a tranch?”</p> - -<p>“He’s drunk,” declared Eskimo, trying to slap the top-bar of the rack -with his hand, and hitting his chin instead.</p> - -<p>“And yo’re cold shober,” said Oyster. “Losin’ a horsh makes you so mad -that you bite the hitch-rack. Go ahead and gnaw it f’r me, Eskimo. -Johnny, what-cha think, eh?”</p> - -<p>“I think,” said Johnny thickly, “I think it’s between the sheriff and -the preacher. Shomebody took our horshes.”</p> - -<p>“He’s commencin’ to wake up, Eskimo,” said Oyster. “He’s had a vision, -that’s what he’s had. Oh my, tha’ boy is clever. Let’s have a vote on -which one we kill firsht—sheriff or preacher.”</p> - -<p>“I vote for the sheriff,” declared Eskimo. “We need lossa gospel -’round here. Let’s kill the sheriff firsht. Then when the preacher -preaches the funeral shervice, if he shays a good word for Scotty -Olson, we’ll kill the preacher and let the morals of thish here -country go plumb to ——.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s not kill anybody—yet,” advised Johnny. “Lissen t’ me, will yuh. -Didja ever hear that sayin’ about whom the gods would destroy, they -firsht make awful mad? Didja? Well let’s make Scotty Olson awful mad, -eh?”</p> - -<p>“But we ain’t gods,” reminded Oyster.</p> - -<p>“Tha’s a fact,” admitted Johnny. “We ain’t gods. But,” hopefully, -“mebbe we’ll do until shome better ones come along.”</p> - -<p>“We’re jist as good,” declared Eskimo. “I’m jist as good as any I’ve -ever sheen—prob’ly a lot better. Let’s go ahead and do shome thin’. -Whazza program, Johnny?”</p> - -<p>“First,” said Johnny, “we’ll ask Scotty in a ladylike manner what he -done with our horshes. And I don’t want you pelicans to forget that -you’re as drunk as a pair of boiled owls. C’mon.”</p> - -<p>They weaved across the street. Johnny Grant lost his hat, and after -several minutes’ search, it was discovered that Eskimo was standing on -it.</p> - -<p>“Thirty dollars gone t’ ——!” wailed Johnny.</p> - -<p>“Aw, ——, it ain’t hurt!” snorted Eskimo. “Jist dirty, thasall.”</p> - -<p>“After you wearin’ it on one of yore big feet all over the street? My -——, I can see the moon through it.”</p> - -<p>“Wonnerful!” gasped Oyster. “I tell yuh the boy’s got shecond shight. -Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! There ain’t no moon.”</p> - -<p>They managed to reach the door of the sheriff’s office. A light from -the front window attested to the fact that Scotty Olson was in the -office, and he answered their knock.</p> - -<p>“What do you want?” he asked. Johnny leaned against the door-sill, his -torn and dusty sombrero pulled rakishly over one eye.</p> - -<p>“We want you to shettle a question that’s been botherin’ us, Scotty. -C’n we come in?”</p> - -<p>“All right,” said Scotty grudgingly.</p> - -<p>He stepped aside and the three cowboys came in. They had been in the -office many times, but not in this same mood.</p> - -<p>“My, my, thish is a nice office!” exclaimed Eskimo. “Gotta desk and a -chair and a lot of outlaw’s pitchers on the walls!”</p> - -<p>“What question did you want answered?” asked Scotty nervously. He -suspected them of having ulterior reasons.</p> - -<p>“The question is thish:” said Johnny. “What did you do with our -horshes?”</p> - -<p>“A roan, a bay and a sorrel,” enumerated Oyster.</p> - -<p>The sheriff shook his head.</p> - -<p>“I ain’t seen yore —— horses.”</p> - -<p>“Jist try and remember,” urged Johnny. “Try and recall the fact that -you got mad at us and took ’em away.”</p> - -<p>“Aw-w-w, ——!” snorted Scotty vacantly. “I can’t remember nothin’ of -the kind.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll betcha,” said Oyster seriously, “I’ll betcha he’s got ’em in one -of his cells.”</p> - -<p>“Aw-w-w-w!” Scotty goggled at him.</p> - -<p>“That’s a —— of a thing to say. Put a horse in a cell!”</p> - -<p>“Mind if we look?” queried Johnny.</p> - -<p>“Well, of all the drunken ideas! No, I don’t care if yuh look. ——, yuh -can’t put a horse in a cell!”</p> - -<p>He turned on his heel and led them to the rear of the building, where -a series of three cells had been built in, leaving a corridor down the -center. The doors were heavily barred and fitted with spring locks. -Just now there were no occupants in the Blue Wells jail, and the doors -sagged partly open. Scotty, half-angry, more than half disgusted, -swung the door of the first cell wide open and stepped partly inside, -turning to let the cowboys see for themselves that there were no -horses in the cell, when Eskimo seemed to stumble, flung his weight -against the door, which promptly snapped shut, locking the sheriff in -his own cell.</p> - -<p>“Hey! You —— fool!” yelled Scotty. “Whatcha tryin’ to do, anyway?”</p> - -<p>“Look what you done!” wailed Johnny. “You’ve locked the sheriff in his -own jail. Now, you’ve done it. My, my!”</p> - -<p>“Go and get the keys out of my desk,” ordered the sheriff. “They’re in -the top drawer.”</p> - -<p>The three cowboys trooped obediently out through the office, -extinguished the lamp, closed the door and stood on the edge of the -sidewalk, chuckling with unholy glee.</p> - -<p>“Let’s see if he put our broncs in his stable,” suggested Johnny. But -the sheriff’s stable was empty. They went to the livery-stable and -found it locked.</p> - -<p>“How about visitin’ the preacher?” asked Eskimo.</p> - -<p>“He never done it,” declared Oyster. “That jigger is too timid to go -near a bronc. I’ll betcha that smart sheriff jist turned ’em loose on -us, that’s what he done. We might as well git a room at the hotel, or -walk back to the ranch.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll walk,” said Eskimo. “I stayed one night at that old hotel and -the bedbugs et holes in my boots.”</p> - -<p>“Shall we let the sheriff loose before we go?” asked Oyster.</p> - -<p>“Let ’m alone,” said Johnny. “Somebody will turn him loose after -while, and I don’t want to be here when they do. Eskimo, if I was you, -I’d buy a bottle to take along with us. It’s a long, hard walk.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a pious notion,” declared Eskimo, and they went weaving back -toward the Oasis.</p> - -<h2>IV—JIMMY GETS HIS DANDER UP</h2> - -<p>Jim Legg sprawled on a seat in the day-coach and tried to puzzle out -from a time-table just when they would arrive at Blue Wells, mixed -train, both passenger and freight, stopping at every station along the -branch line; sixty miles of starts and stops, and the highest speed -would not exceed twenty miles per hour.</p> - -<p>It had been sweltering hot, and Jim Legg’s once-white collar had -melted to the consistency of a dish-rag. But the shades of night had -brought a cool breeze, and the gruff brakeman had assured him that the -train would probably arrive on time.</p> - -<p>Not that it made much difference to Jim Legg. He had never seen Blue -Wells. To him it was merely a name. He had been forced to leave -Geronimo to the tender mercies of a hard-faced express messenger, and -had seen him tied to a trunk-handle in the express car.</p> - -<p>It suddenly occurred to Jim Legg that he had made no provisions for -feed and water for the dog. It did not occur to him that the messenger -might be human enough to do this for the dog. The engine was whistling -a station call, and Jim Legg resolved to investigate for himself.</p> - -<p>The train clanked to a stop at the little station, and Jim Legg -dropped off the steps, making his way up to the baggage car, where the -messenger and a brakeman were unloading several packages. Jim noticed -that the weather-beaten sign on the front of the depot showed it to be -Encinas, the town where the deputy sheriff’s sweetheart lived.</p> - -<p>The brakeman went on toward the engine and Jim Legg got into the -express car. Geronimo’s tie-rope had been shifted to a trunk farther -up the aisle, and the messenger stood just beyond him, looking over a -sheaf of way-bills by the dim light of a lantern.</p> - -<p>The train jerked ahead, but Jim Legg did not notice that they were -traveling again, until the train had gained considerable speed. The -messenger turned and came back toward the door, not noticing in the -dim light that he had a new passenger. The dog reared up and put his -paws on the messenger’s overall-clad leg.</p> - -<p>But only for a moment. The messenger whirled around and kicked the dog -back against the trunk.</p> - -<p>“Keep off me, —— yuh!” he rasped.</p> - -<p>The dog rolled over, but came to his feet, fangs bared.</p> - -<p>“Try to bite me, will yuh?” snarled the messenger.</p> - -<p>He glanced around for some sort of a weapon, evidently not caring to -get within kicking distance of the dog again, when Jim Legg spoke -mildly—</p> - -<p>“You really shouldn’t do that.”</p> - -<p>The messenger whirled around and stared at Jim Legg. He did not -recognize him as the man who had put the dog in the car at the main -line.</p> - -<p>“What in —— are you doin’ in my car?” he demanded.</p> - -<p>Jim Legg shifted uneasily.</p> - -<p>“Well, I—I’m watching you mistreat a dumb brute, it seems. That’s my -dog, and I didn’t put him on here to be kicked.”</p> - -<p>“Your dog, eh?”</p> - -<p>The messenger came closer. He recognized Jim now.</p> - -<p>“Got on at Encinas, eh?”</p> - -<p>“I think that was the name. The train started, and I had no chance to -get back to the coach, you see.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, I see. But that don’t make any difference to me. Nobody is -allowed to ride in here. You’ll have to get off at Blue Wells.”</p> - -<p>“Is that the next station?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah. We’ll be there in a few minutes.” He looked back at the dog. -“You hadn’t ought to ship a dog like that. He’s no —— earthly good, -and he tried to bite me just now.”</p> - -<p>“You’re a liar!”</p> - -<p>It was the first time Jim Legg had ever said that to any one, and this -time he had said it without a thought of the consequences. It seemed -the natural thing to say.</p> - -<p>“I’m a liar, eh?”</p> - -<p>The messenger would weigh close to two hundred pounds and was as hard -as nails.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir,” declared Jim Legg. “If you say that Geronimo tried to bite -you just now, you’re a liar. I could report you for kicking that dog.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you could, could yuh? Like ——! The company ain’t responsible for -dogs. You never checked him. He’s just ridin’ here, because I was good -enough to take him in; just a —— dead-head.”</p> - -<p>“Good enough, eh?”</p> - -<p>Jim Legg took off his glasses, put them in a case and tucked them in -his pocket. The messenger came closer. The train was whistling, and -they felt the slight jerk as the brakes were applied.</p> - -<p>“I saw you kick that dog,” said Jim calmly, although his heart was -hammering against his ribs. “No man would do a thing like that. It was -a dirty trick—and then you try to lie out of it.”</p> - -<p>“Why, you little four-eyed pup!” snorted the messenger. “I’ll make you -take that back. Anyway, you’ve got no right in this car, and I’m -justified in throwin’ yuh off.”</p> - -<p>Jim Legg threw out his hands in protest to any such an action. He had -never fought anybody, knew nothing of self-defense. But the messenger -evidently mistook Jim’s attitude, and swung a right-hand smash at his -head. And Jim’s clumsy attempt to duck the blow caused the messenger -to crash his knuckles against the top of Jim’s head. The impact of the -fist sent Jim reeling back against a pile of trunks, dazed, -bewildered, while the messenger, his right hand all but useless, swore -vitriolically and headed for Jim again.</p> - -<p>But the force of the blow had stirred something in the small man’s -brain; the fighting instinct, perhaps. And in another moment they were -locked together in the center of the car. The train was lurching to a -stop, but they did not know it.</p> - -<p>The messenger’s arms were locked around Jim’s body, while Jim’s legs -were wrapped around those of the messenger, which caused them to fall -heavily, struggling, making queer sounds, while Geronimo, reared the -full length of his rope, made an unearthly din of barks, whines and -growls, as he fought to get into the mélée.</p> - -<p>The train yanked ahead, going faster this time. Jim managed to get his -right hand free and to get his fingers around the messenger’s ear, -trying ineffectually to bounce the messenger’s head on the hard floor.</p> - -<p>His efforts, while hardly successful, caused the messenger to roll -over on top of Jim, who clung to the ear and managed to roll on top -again. They were getting perilously near the wide door. Suddenly the -messenger loosened one hand and began a series of short body punches -against Jim’s ribs, causing him to relax his hold on the ear. It also -forced Jim to slacken his scissor hold on the messenger’s legs.</p> - -<p>Quickly the messenger doubled up his legs, forcing his knees into -Jim’s middle, hurling him over and sidewise. But the shift had given -Jim a chance to get both arms around the messenger’s neck, and when -Jim swung over and felt himself dropping into space, he took the -messenger right along with him.</p> - -<p>They landed with a crash on the edge of a cut, rolled slowly through a -patch of brush, and came to rest at the bottom of the cut. Fortunately -Jim was uppermost at the finish. The breath had all been knocked from -his body, and he was bruised from heels to hair.</p> - -<p>He separated himself from his former antagonist, and pumped some air -into his aching lungs. The train was gone. Jim looked up at the -star-specked Arizona sky and wondered what it was all about. It -suddenly struck him funny and he laughed, a queer little, creaky -laugh. It sounded like a few notes from a wheezy old accordion he had -heard a blind man playing in San Francisco. San Francisco and the -Mellon Company seemed a long way off just now.</p> - -<p>He crawled to the track level. There was no sign of the train. -Everything was very still, except the dull hum of the telegraph wires -along the right-of-way fence. Then the messenger began swearing, -wondering aloud what was the matter. Jim Legg got to his feet and -filled his lungs with the good desert air. He looked back toward the -cut where he had left his opponent.</p> - -<p>“Shut up!” he yelled. “You got whipped and that’s all there is to it.”</p> - -<p>And then Jim Legg guessed which way was Blue Wells, and started -limping along the track. The stopping and starting of the train -between stations meant nothing to Jim Legg. He did not suspect that -the first stop had been because a red lantern had been placed in the -middle of the track near the Broken Cañon trestle, thereby stopping -the train, and that just now three masked men were smashing through -the safe, which contained the Santa Rita pay-roll. There, three men -had cut the express car, forced the engineer to drive his engine to -within about two miles of Blue Wells, where they stopped him, and -escorted both engineer and fireman back to the express car.</p> - -<p>The absence of the messenger bothered them, because they were afraid -he had suspected a hold-up and had run away, looking for help. At any -rate, they went about their business in a workmanlike manner, and a -few minutes after the stop they had exploded enough dynamite to force -the safe to give up its golden treasure.</p> - -<p>Quickly they removed the two canvas sacks. One of the men stepped to -the doorway. Somewhere a voice was singing. The road from Blue Wells -to the AK ranch paralleled the railroad at this point.</p> - -<p>“Come on,” said the man at the door.</p> - -<p>Swiftly they dropped out of the car, leaving the engineer and fireman -alone. A lantern on a trunk illuminated the car. Suddenly the engineer -ran across the car and picked up the messenger’s sawed-off Winchester -shotgun, which had fallen behind a trunk during the fight between the -messenger and Jim Legg.</p> - -<p>He pumped in a cartridge and sprang to the door. Just out beyond the -right-of-way fence he could see three shadowy figures, which were -moving. Then he threw up the shotgun and the express car fairly jarred -from the report of the heavy buckshot load.</p> - -<p>The distance was great enough to give the charge of buckshot a chance -to spread to a maximum degree, and none of the leaden pellets struck -the mark. But just the same the three shadowy figures became prone -objects.</p> - -<p>Again came the long spurt of orange flame from the door of the express -car, and more buckshot whined through the weeds.</p> - -<p>“What kinda —— whisky was that yuh bought?” queried the voice of -Johnny Grant from among the weeds.</p> - -<p>“Well, if you think I’m goin’ t’ let any train crew heave buckshot at -me, yo’re crazy,” declared Eskimo Swensen, and proceeded to shoot at -the glow from the express car door.</p> - -<p>“H’rah f’r us!” whooped Oyster, and unlimbered two shots from his -six-shooter. His aim was a bit uncertain and it is doubtful if either -bullet even hit the car.</p> - -<p>Wham! Skee-e-e-e-e! Another handful of buckshot mowed the grass. Three -six-shooters blazed back at the flash of the shotgun, and their owners -shifted locations as fast as possible, because those last buckshot -came too close for comfort.</p> - -<p>Then came a lull. In fact the shooting ceased entirely. The three men -in the grass saw the light go out in the car. There was no noise, -except the panting of the engine, its headlight cutting a pathway of -silver across the Arizona hills. Minute after minute passed. It was -too dark to see an object against the car or engine, and the three men -in the grass did not see the engineer and fireman crawl along to the -engine and sneak into the cab.</p> - -<p>“Where’s that —— murderer with the riot-gun?” queried Eskimo Swensen. -He was anxious to continue the battle.</p> - -<p>“Sh-h-h-h-h!” cautioned Johnny. “Somebody comin’.”</p> - -<p>They could see the vague bulk of a man coming along the track. Then it -passed the end of the express car, blending in with it. The three -cowboys could hear the crunch of gravel, as the newcomer walked along -the car, and they heard him climb inside. Came the tiny glow of a -match, the snappy bark of a dog. A few moments later came the thud of -two bodies hitting the gravel.</p> - -<p>“I whipped him, Geronimo,” they heard a voice say.</p> - -<p>“My ——!” snorted Eskimo. “I thought Geronimo was dead or in jail.”</p> - -<p>Then the engine awoke and the part of a train started backing down the -track, but there was no more shooting. Once away from that immediate -spot the engineer put on more power, and went roaring back toward -where they had cut loose from the rest of the train.</p> - -<p>The three cowboys sat up in the grass and watched the dim figures of a -man and a dog, heading toward Blue Wells, while from far down the -railroad came the shrill whistle of the locomotive.</p> - -<p>Johnny Grant got to his feet, and was joined by Eskimo and Oyster. The -shooting had sobered them considerably, and when Eskimo produced the -bottle Johnny shoved it aside.</p> - -<p>“Aw, to —— with the stuff!” he said. “I’ve been seein’ too many things -already. Let’s go home before we get killed for bein’ on earth.”</p> - -<p>“I dunno,” said Eskimo, after a deep pull at the bottle. “It seems -like anythin’ is liable to happen around here, but I never expected to -be ambushed by a danged train.”</p> - -<p>They crawled back through the barbed-wire right-of-way fence, and -headed for home, too muddled to do much wondering what it was all -about.</p> - -<p>The train passed Jim Legg before he reached Blue Wells, and he got -there just after the announcement of the hold-up. A crowd had gathered -at the depot, and Jim Legg heard some one saying that about thirty -thousand had been stolen.</p> - -<p>He heard some one question Chet Le Moyne, who admitted that the Santa -Rita pay-roll had been on the train. Men had gone to notify the -sheriff. Jim Legg did not realize that they were speaking about the -train he had fell out of, even when the disheveled express messenger -made his appearance. He had been picked up along the track.</p> - -<p>The engine crew were offering all the information they had to -interested listeners.</p> - -<p>“There were three men,” said the engineer.</p> - -<p>“Three that you saw,” amended the messenger, who was nursing a black -eye, several facial bruises and a bad limp. “The fourth one tangled -with me in the car. That’s how the door happened to be open. He got on -at Encinas. I ordered him off the car and he tangled with me. In the -fight we both fell off. But I sure gave him enough to make him -remember me.”</p> - -<p>“Was he masked?” some one asked.</p> - -<p>“Masked? No.”</p> - -<p>“What kind of a lookin’ geezer?”</p> - -<p>“Great big son-of-a-gun. It was kinda dark in the car, and I didn’t -see his face very plain. I never suspected that he might be a stick-up -man, or I’d have took a shot at him, but it all happened so quick that -I didn’t have time. He tried to pull his gun, but I blocked it, and we -sure pulled some scrap.”</p> - -<p>Jim Legg kept in the background, wondering at the coincidence. Two -scraps in express cars in the same evening.</p> - -<p>“And we pretty near got ’em, even at that,” said the fireman. “They -jumped out of the car, leavin’ me and Frank in there. Frank got the -messenger’s shotgun and sure sprayed ’em good and plenty.</p> - -<p>“But they were tough eggs, and stopped to do battle. You can see where -their bullets hit the car. I think we hit some of ’em. But one of -their bullets split the slide jigger on the pump-gun; so we decided to -quit the battle.”</p> - -<p>Two men came panting into the crowd. “We can’t find the sheriff,” they -announced. “His horses are gone from his stable; so he must be out of -town.”</p> - -<p>“Aw, he couldn’t find the hole in a doughnut, anyway,” said one of the -men.</p> - -<p>“And his deputy is at Encinas,” added one of the men who had gone -after the sheriff. “We found that out at the Oasis.”</p> - -<p>“Anyway, there’s no use chasin’ hold-up men at night,” said Le Moyne. -“Nobody knows which way they went. They probably had their horses -planted near where the safe was busted, and by now they’re miles away. -What I’d like to know is this: Who in —— knew that the pay-roll was -comin’ in tonight?”</p> - -<p>No one seemed to know the answer. Jim Legg moved in beside a man and -asked him where the hold-up had taken place.</p> - -<p>“The train that jist came in from Encinas,” said the man.</p> - -<p>“This last one?”</p> - -<p>“——, there’s only one a day, stranger.”</p> - -<p>Jim Legg turned away, leading Geronimo on a short piece of rope, and -headed up the street, looking for a hotel.</p> - -<p>“That messenger is the first liar I ever appreciated,” he told the -dog. “I’m a great big son-of-a-gun, I am, and I tried to pull a gun. -I’ll bet Ananias turned over in his grave tonight.”</p> - -<p>They were just passing the front of Louie Sing’s restaurant when a dog -shot out of the alley, followed by an empty can and a volley of -Chinese expletives. It was evident that a stray dog had been trying to -steal something from the restaurant kitchen.</p> - -<p>As quick as a flash Geronimo tore the rope from Jim’s hand, and was -hot on the trail of the departing dog. They disappeared in the dark, -leaving Jim Legg staring after them. He waited for several minutes, -but the dog did not appear. Then he went on to the one-story adobe -hotel, where he secured a room. Afterward he went back to the street, -and for the first time he realized that his valise was still on that -train.</p> - -<p>He decided to try and recover it the next day. But there was no sign -of Geronimo; so Jim Legg finally went back to the hotel, hoping that -the dog would return and be in evidence the next day. Jim was still a -little sore from his battle in the express car, although his face and -hands did not show any signs of the conflict. But he found that his -body contained plenty of black-and-blue spots, and in places he had -lost considerable skin.</p> - -<p>But he ignored them, yawned widely and fairly fell into his blankets. -Mellon & Company seemed a million miles away, and years and years ago.</p> - -<h2>V—PAUL THE APOSTLE</h2> - -<p>The Taylor ranch, by its brand name the Double Bar 8, was one of the -old-time ranches. The ranch-house was a two-story adobe, closely -resembling the Hopi in architecture, as the roof of the first story -was used as a porch of the second. The bunk-house was one story, on -the opposite side of the patio, and a semicircle adobe wall, three -feet thick, extended from each end of the bunk-house, and circled the -ranch-house. At the front was a huge gate, arched over with adobe, and -at the two sides of the patio were entrances. In the center of the -patio was an old well. The stables, sheds and corrals were at the rear -of the bunk-house.</p> - -<p>Earlier residents had planted oaks, pepper trees and flowering -eucalyptus, which had grown into big trees, shading the patio, where -grape-vines clambered over the old walls, tangled with the climbing -roses. From afar it appeared an oasis in the gray and purple of the -hills.</p> - -<div id='i002' style='margin-top:1em;margin-bottom:1em;' class='w002'> - <img src='images/illus-001.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' /> -</div> -<p>It was the following day after the train robbery. Marion Taylor lifted -a bucket of water from the old well and poured it into a trough, while -she held the lead-rope of a blue-black horse, a tall, rangy animal, a -few degrees better bred than the average range animal.</p> - -<p>The girl was bareheaded, the sleeves of her white waist rolled to her -elbows. She wore a divided skirt of brown material, and a serviceable -pair of tan riding-boots. Her hair was twisted in braids around her -well-shaped head, and held in place with a hammered silver comb set -with turquoise.</p> - -<p>She was of average height and rather slim, with the olive tint from -the desert sun. Her eyes were wide and blue, and her well-shaped lips -parted in a smile, showing a flash of white teeth, when the horse -snorted at the splash of water in the trough.</p> - -<p>“Somebody must ’a’ pinned yore ears back, Spike,” she said softly. “Or -are yuh tryin’ to make me think yo’re a bad horse?”</p> - -<p>The ears of the blue-black snapped ahead, as if he understood, and he -plunged his muzzle into the clear water, drinking gustily, while the -girl drew another bucket and gently poured it into the trough. A burro -came poking in through the patio gate, an old ancient of the Arizona -hills. His right ear had been broken and looped down over his eye, and -his long, scraggly gray hair carried an accumulation of almost -everything that grew and wore spines.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Apollo,” called the girl. The burro lifted his one good ear, -thrust out his whiskered muzzle and sniffed like a pointer dog. Then -he brayed raucously, shook himself violently and came slowly up to the -trough.</p> - -<p>The horse drew aside, being either through drinking or too proud to -drink with such an object. The burro looked at the horse, decided not -to be particular, and proceeded to drink deeply.</p> - -<p>Marion leaned against the curbing and laughed at the burro. That was -the one reason the ancient was tolerated around the ranch—to make them -laugh. His goatlike appetite was a constant provoker of profanity. -Shirts, boots, straps, bedding, anything eatable or uneatable went -into his maw. And as a result the inhabitants of the Double Bar 8 were -careful not to leave anything lying around loose.</p> - -<p>And Apollo was not to be tampered with. In spite of his age he was -quick to resent any familiarity, and to feel the caress of his heels -left nothing to be desired in the way of shocks. At one time Buck -Taylor and Peeler had roped Apollo and clipped him closely, and so -heavy was his coat that he almost died from chills, with the -thermometer at 115 degrees in the shade.</p> - -<p>As Marion turned away from the well and started leading the horse back -toward the gate, three horsemen rode up. They were Apostle Paul, Buck -and Peeler, who had left the ranch the morning previous to search for -Double Bar 8 cattle, which had been reported thirty miles away on the -Yellow Horn mesa.</p> - -<p>Marion continued out of the patio and met them just outside the gate. -With them was a strange dog, which came up to her, acting very -friendly. It was the missing Geronimo.</p> - -<p>“Where did you get the dog?” asked Marion, after greetings had been -exchanged.</p> - -<p>“He picked us up,” smiled her father. “I dunno who owns him. There was -a piece of rope dragging and we took it off, ’cause it was always -gettin’ hung up on somethin’. Friendly cuss, ain’t he.”</p> - -<p>Geronimo danced around, as if he knew what was being said about him. -Apostle Paul Taylor was a tall, skinny, lean-faced man, with a hooked -nose, wide mouth and deep-set gray eyes. His hair was fast turning -gray, and he stooped a trifle.</p> - -<p>Buck Taylor was almost replica of his father, except that he was -bow-legged, had a mop of brown hair, and did not stoop. The -half-breed, Peeler, was heavy-set, deep-chested, typically Indian in -features, and showing little of his white blood. The two Taylors were -dressed in blue calico shirts, overalls, chaps, high-heeled boots and -sombreros. The half-breed’s raiment was practically the same, except -that he wore a faded red shirt, scarlet muffler, and his hat-band was -a riot of colored beads.</p> - -<p>All three men wore belts and holstered guns, and in addition to this -the two Taylors had rifles hung to their saddles. They were dusty, -weary from their long ride. The Apostle Paul dismounted and handed his -reins to Peeler.</p> - -<p>“Did yuh find any stock on the mesa?” asked Marion.</p> - -<p>“About thirty head,” replied her father. “Wild as hawks, too. We -brought ’em in as far as Buzzard Springs. Anythin’ new?”</p> - -<p>“Not a thing, Dad.”</p> - -<p>“You ain’t tried ridin’ Spike, have yuh?”</p> - -<p>Marion shook her head and looked at the blue-black.</p> - -<p>“Then yuh better let Buck or Peeler fork him first. He ain’t been -saddled for three months.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, and the last time I climbed him he piled me quick,” laughed -Buck. “Let Peeler do it.”</p> - -<p>“After pay-day,” grinned Peeler. “I don’t want to die with money -comin’ to me.”</p> - -<p>“Pshaw, I’ll ride him myself,” said Marion.</p> - -<p>Her father laughed and turned toward the gate when two men rode around -from behind the bunk-house and came up to them. It was Scotty Olson, -the sheriff, and Al Porter, the deputy. Porter was a big man, -dark-featured, with a nose entirely too large for the rest of his -face, and very flat cheekbones.</p> - -<p>“Hyah, Sheriff,” greeted Taylor. “Howdy.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff removed his hat and bowed awkwardly to Marion—</p> - -<p>“Howdy, Miss Taylor.”</p> - -<p>“Hello, Sheriff,” replied the girl.</p> - -<p>Olson rubbed a huge hand across his big mustaches. There was still a -lump on his forehead, where he had bumped himself on the floor in the -Oasis.</p> - -<p>“Just gettin’ in?” queried Porter, glancing at the horses.</p> - -<p>Apostle Paul nodded quickly.</p> - -<p>“Yeah. Been back on Yellow Horn mesa, lookin’ for cattle.”</p> - -<p>“Way up there, eh?” said the sheriff. “Quite a ride.”</p> - -<p>“Went up yesterday,” offered Buck.</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh,” the sheriff eased himself in the saddle. “Then yuh wasn’t -around here last night, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Nope. Why?”</p> - -<p>“Didn’t yuh hear about the hold-up?”</p> - -<p>“Hold-up?” Taylor shook his head. “Where?”</p> - -<p>“Last night,” said Porter, “the train was robbed between Broken Cañon -and Blue Wells. They got the Santa Rita pay-roll.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ll be darned!” exclaimed Taylor. “Anybody hurt?”</p> - -<p>“Nope.”</p> - -<p>“They must ’a’ got close to thirty thousand,” said Buck.</p> - -<p>Porter turned quickly.</p> - -<p>“What do you know about it, Buck?”</p> - -<p>Buck stared back at him, his eyes hardening at the implication in the -deputy’s question.</p> - -<p>“I don’t reckon the amount of the Santa Rita pay-roll is any secret, -Porter.”</p> - -<p>“Thasso?” Porter shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>“Yes, that’s so,” Buck dropped his reins and walked over to Porter, -who squinted narrowly at him.</p> - -<p>“I don’t like the way yuh said that, Porter.”</p> - -<p>“The way I said what?” queried Porter.</p> - -<p>“You know what I mean,” declared Buck, angrily.</p> - -<p>“Drop it, Buck,” advised his father, and turned to Olson.</p> - -<p>“How many men in the gang, Scotty?”</p> - -<p>“Three that we know of—possibly a fourth. A man got on the express car -when the train stopped at Encinas, and him and the express messenger -had a fight. They fell out of the door and rolled into the ditch. It -kinda looks as though this feller was one of the gang. Anyway, there -was three that stopped the train, cut off the engine and express car, -and blowed the safe.”</p> - -<p>“Are you just startin’ out after ’em?” asked Buck, squinting at the -sun. “Not very early, it seems to me.”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t know nothin’ about it until this mornin’,” said Porter. “I -came in from Encinas early this mornin’ on a freight, and went to bed. -I got up jist before noon, and they told me about it; so I got the -sheriff and we started out.”</p> - -<p>Apostle Paul turned to the sheriff, whose ears were red.</p> - -<p>“Where were you all this time, Scotty?”</p> - -<p>“He was in jail,” said Porter.</p> - -<p>“In jail?”</p> - -<p>“In my own jail,” said Olson angrily. “Oyster Shell, Eskimo Swensen -and Johnny Grant came over to my office last night. They were drunk, -and insisted that I had stolen their horses. And they wanted to look -in the cells, the —— fools! Jist because they was drunk I let ’em -look, and they accidentally locked me in.</p> - -<p>“I told ’em where to find the keys, but they went on out and never -came back. That’s why nobody could find me last night. I never knowed -there was a hold-up, until Porter showed up this noon. And somebody -turned our horses loose, too. Mebbe it was that drunken bunch from the -AK. Anyway, we’re goin’ over and tell ’em about it, yuh betcha.”</p> - -<p>Marion turned away, shaking with laughter, while her father and the -other two of the Double Bar 8 choked back their laughter. They knew -the gang from the AK very well indeed. But it was no laughing matter -to the two officers.</p> - -<p>“I can arrest them three drunks for interferin’ with an officer,” -declared Olson hotly. “They interfered with the law when they locked -me in. I was badly needed, I tell yuh.”</p> - -<p>“Sure yuh was,” choked Buck. “If they hadn’t locked yuh up you’d ’a’ -had all three of them robbers in jail now.”</p> - -<p>“Mebbe. Anyway, I’d have been on their trail.”</p> - -<p>“Where’d yuh git the new dog?” asked Porter.</p> - -<p>“New dog?” queried Buck. “That one? Huh! We raised him.”</p> - -<p>“Never seen him before.”</p> - -<p>“Lotsa things you never seen before.”</p> - -<p>“Have yuh any clues?” asked Apostle Paul.</p> - -<p>“Clues?” The sheriff wasn’t sure of that word.</p> - -<p>“Yeah—evidence that might lead yuh to the outlaws.”</p> - -<p>“We ain’t had no time yet.”</p> - -<p>“Then what are yuh wastin’ it around here for?” demanded Buck.</p> - -<p>Porter glared at Buck, but did not reply. He disliked this thin-faced -young man, but was just a trifle dubious about starting anything with -him.</p> - -<p>“Well, I s’pose we might as well be goin’ along,” said the sheriff. -“Mebbe we’ll swing around and look in at the AK. I’ve sure got a few -things to say to them fellers.”</p> - -<p>“God be with yuh, brother,” said Apostle Paul piously. “The AK is sure -a good place to make a talk, but when the collection is taken up, -you’ll find small pay for yore work.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll make ’em respect the law!” snapped Porter.</p> - -<p>“Yes, you will,” said Buck. “You better back yore law with an army. -They may love yuh for startin’ trouble with ’em, but they’ll never -respect yuh. My advice to you jiggers would be to let the AK alone. -You’ll never find out who robbed that train if yuh try to shove the -law down the necks of them three.”</p> - -<p>“Well, by ——, I’m runnin’ my office!” snapped Olson hotly. “No drunken -puncher can lock me in my own jail and not hear about it.”</p> - -<p>“Let ’em hear about it, by all means—but in a roundabout way, Scotty. -And please don’t swear any more. Remember, there’s ladies and -gentlemen present.”</p> - -<p>“Ex-cuse me,” grunted Scotty, picking up his reins. “Well, we’ll be -goin’ along, folks. <i>Adios</i>.”</p> - -<p>“<i>Adios, amigo,</i>” said Apostle Paul.</p> - -<p>Porter glared at Buck, who wrinkled his nose at the big deputy, and -rode away.</p> - -<p>They watched the two riders head east across the little valley, riding -side by side, as if carrying on a conversation.</p> - -<p>“You think they ever find out who rob that train?” asked Peeler.</p> - -<p>Buck snorted and headed for the stable.</p> - -<p>“Find out nothin’, Peeler. Them two jiggers couldn’t find their own -boots. I’d like to be at the AK, when they start their war-talk. That -sure was funny about lockin’ him in his own cell.”</p> - -<p>Peeler did not reply. He stopped at the stable door and rubbed his -chin thoughtfully. Buck looked at him sharply.</p> - -<p>“Whatsa matter, Peeler?”</p> - -<p>“I’m tryin’ to think of one word, Buck.”</p> - -<p>“What kind of a word?”</p> - -<p>Peeler smiled softly.</p> - -<p>“I think it is ‘convenient.’”</p> - -<p>“Convenient? What for?”</p> - -<p>“For the robbers, Buck. That he is locked in his cell.”</p> - -<p>Buck stared at Peeler for a moment. Then—</p> - -<p>“Yea-a-a-a, that might be true. But it’s nothin’ to us; so we will -forget it, eh?”</p> - -<p>“I forget,” smiled Peeler.</p> - -<p>Porter was very angry when he and the sheriff rode away from the -Taylor ranch, heading for the AK. He was inclined to do a lot of -talking, once he was far enough away to conceal his language from the -Taylor family.</p> - -<p>“I tell yuh they know somethin’, Scotty.”</p> - -<p>“Do yuh think so, Al?”</p> - -<p>“Yo’re —— right. Didn’t Buck speak right up and tell how much money -was in that pay-roll? And didn’t he get right on the prod when I -picked him up on it? Don’t tell me that he don’t know somethin’ about -it. They’ve been to Yaller Horn mesa, have they? That’s a —— of a good -excuse.”</p> - -<p>“Do yuh think that’s enough evidence to arrest ’em on, Al?”</p> - -<p>“Well, mebbe not. But it’s sure as —— enough to suspect ’em on. I -wouldn’t trust any of ’em as far as I could throw a bull by the tail. -Buck’s a bad <i>hombre</i>, Scotty. The old man is pretty salty, and that -—— breed fits in well with the bunch.”</p> - -<p>Scotty nodded. He was in the habit of agreeing with Porter, which -saved him many an argument.</p> - -<p>“We’ve got to watch ’em,” continued Porter. “They’re slick.”</p> - -<p>“Slick,” agreed Scotty absently. “I’m jist wonderin’ what to say to -them slick-ears at the AK.”</p> - -<p>“Give ’em ——,” advised Porter. “They shore need a good curryin’, -Scotty.”</p> - -<p>“I know they do, Al. But —— it, they won’t listen to reason. I dunno -why they locked me in that jail last night.”</p> - -<p>Porter grinned sarcastically, but sobered suddenly.</p> - -<p>“Say, Scotty, here’s somethin’ to think about. They locked yuh in yore -cell, and in about an hour the train was held up. Does that mean -anythin’ to you?”</p> - -<p>Scotty shook his head.</p> - -<p>“My ——, yo’re dense. Listen:” Porter repeated his statement. “Now do -yuh get it?”</p> - -<p>“You mean—they locked me up and robbed the train?”</p> - -<p>“They locked yuh up—and the train was robbed, wasn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, I know that, Al; but they was too drunk.”</p> - -<p>“Acted too drunk, yuh mean.”</p> - -<p>“Well, they acted—say, Al,” the sheriff grinned slowly, “you sure can -see things. I wonder if that ain’t right? But it ain’t enough evidence -to arrest ’em on, is it?”</p> - -<p>“Well, mebbe not enough to arrest ’em on, but it’s enough for us to -suspect ’em real hard, and to keep an eye on ’em, Scotty.”</p> - -<p>“Yo’re sure gittin’ evidence,” applauded the sheriff. “Al, I’d be lost -without yuh. You think faster than I do. I’d prob’ly think of these -things after while, yuh see. And they prob’ly turned our broncs loose; -so’s we couldn’t foller ’em, even if I got loose.”</p> - -<p>“I was jist goin’ to mention that part of it, Scotty. Yuh see how -things work out.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah. You’d make a good sheriff, Al.”</p> - -<p>“Sure. Mebby I will be. Unless somethin’ happens I’ll take a crack at -the office next election.”</p> - -<p>“Will yuh? I dunno what I’ll do. A feller gits kinda ’tached to a job -like this, don’tcha know it? Yo’re prob’ly a better deputy than you’d -ever be a sheriff. A feller has to have certain qualifications to be a -sheriff, and it ain’t as easy as it looks. Buck was kinda sore at yuh, -wasn’t he?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, and he’ll get smart jist once too often. One of these days I’m -goin’ to bend him plumb shut and rub his nose off agin’ his knee. I’ll -jist stand so much from a <i>hombre</i> like him.”</p> - -<p>“You sure hang on to yore temper well, Al.”</p> - -<p>“Feller’s got to, when he’s a deputy. Yuh can’t go fightin’ every -whippoorwill that wants a fight. It don’t look well, Scotty.”</p> - -<p>The AK ranch was located well away from the hills, and about three -miles southeast of Blue Wells. It was a typical Arizona ranch; the -buildings were part adobe, but more elaborate and larger than those of -the Double Bar 8. There was no patio to the AK, but the group of -buildings were fenced in with barbed wire.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>The sheriff and deputy rode in through the gate and up to the -ranch-house, where they met old George Bonnette, owner of the outfit. -He was a pudgy little man, almost bald, almost toothless, one cheek -bulged from a huge chew of tobacco. He spat explosively and nodded to -the officers. It was not often that the law came to the AK, and the -old man looked at them curiously.</p> - -<p>“Howdy, George,” said the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“’Lo, Scotty; hyah, Porter,” Bonnette shifted his chew and waited for -them to state their errand.</p> - -<p>“Where’s the boys?” asked Scotty, glancing around.</p> - -<p>“Well,” the old man scratched his head, “I’ve only got three workin’ -here now. T’day is pay-day.”</p> - -<p>“Meanin’ that they’ve gone to town, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Follerin’ the natcheral inclination of cowpunchers, I’d say that’s -where they’ve gone. Whatcha want ’em fer?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, nothin’ much,” Scotty sighed with evident relief. He really -didn’t want them very badly.</p> - -<p>“You heard about the hold-up, didn’t yuh?” asked Porter.</p> - -<p>Bonnette hadn’t. And he grew so interested in Porter’s recital of it -that he bit off two more chews of tobacco during the telling, which -swelled his cheek until one eye was almost closed.</p> - -<p>“Well, the dem cusses!” he said earnestly. “Thirty thousand dollars, -eh. Worth taking eh? Who wouldn’t? Got anythin’ to work on, Scotty?”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Scotty darkly, “we might have more’n anybody’d think, -George. Did the boys find their horses?”</p> - -<p>“Hm-m-m-m,” the old man scratched his head. “Seems to me I did hear -one of ’em say they walked home, and that their horses was here when -they arrived. Them broncs was raised here at the AK, and they’d head -for home. I didn’t pay much attention, but I did hear Eskimo say that -somebody turned their broncs loose in town last night.”</p> - -<p>“I jist wondered if they got ’em,” said Scotty.</p> - -<p>Bonnette squinted at Scotty, his brows lifted inquiringly.</p> - -<p>“Didja ride all the way out here to find that out?”</p> - -<p>“Not exactly, George. Yuh see, them three jaspers locked me in my own -jail last night. Didja know that?”</p> - -<p>“In yore own jail? No, I didn’t know it, Scotty.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, they did, George. And I was in there when word came of the -robbery, and didn’t know a thing about it. They’re liable for blockin’ -the law.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, I s’pose they are. Huh!” Bonnette turned away, choking a -trifle, and when he turned back there were tears in his eyes.</p> - -<p>“We came down here to see about it,” said Porter. “It’s a —— of a -note, when things like that happen, Bonnette. Them three fellers ort -to be run out of the country.”</p> - -<p>“Yea-a-ah?” The old man looked narrowly at Porter. “Why don’t yuh go -ahead and do it, Porter. They’re all of age, yuh know. And there ain’t -a milk drinker in the crowd; so they really wouldn’t suffer if yuh -took ’em away from the cows.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, they ain’t so —— tough,” retorted Porter. “They’re not runnin’ -this country. They’ve kinda had their own way in Blue Wells for a long -time, but now is the time to call a halt. We’re civilized, I’ll tell -yuh that.”</p> - -<p>“Who do yuh mean, Porter?”</p> - -<p>“Well, all of us—ain’t we?”</p> - -<p>“I dunno. Sometimes I wonder if we are. We ain’t savages. We don’t -worship no idols, nor we don’t eat each other. Holdin’ up a train is a -sign of civilization. I dunno about lockin’ a sheriff in his cell. It -sure as —— ain’t old-fashioned, ’cause I never heard of it bein’ done -before.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I don’t care a ——!” snorted the sheriff. “They done it to me, -and I’m sure goin’ to let ’em know that I’m sore about it.”</p> - -<p>“Yo’re probably more interested in that than yuh are in findin’ the -men who held up the train.”</p> - -<p>“Yuh think so, do yuh?” growled Porter. “Well, I’ll tell yuh we’re -plenty interested in that, too. C’mon, Scotty; we’re jist wastin’ time -around here.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t need to get mad at me,” laughed Bonnette. “I never locked -up any sheriffs.”</p> - -<p>“Well, yore men did!” snapped Scotty.</p> - -<p>Bonnette laughed at the sheriff’s red face.</p> - -<p>“I’ll prob’ly fire ’em for not havin’ more respect for the law.”</p> - -<p>“Aw, c’mon,” urged Porter. “T’ —— with ’em; we’ve got work to do.”</p> - -<p>They rode away from the AK, heading back toward Blue Wells, no better -off for their long ride to the AK.</p> - -<p>“I’ve jist been thinkin’ that folks around here don’t show a —— of a -lot of respect for the law,” said Scotty Olson.</p> - -<p>“Well,” growled Porter, “it’s up to us to make ’em. By ——, I’m all -through lettin’ folks make remarks to me. From now on I’m goin’ to -make these smart pelicans set up and salute when the law shows up.”</p> - -<h2>VI—THE MAKING OF A COWBOY</h2> - -<p>Jim Legg awoke to a different world from what he had ever seen. Blue -Wells was so typically southwestern, being one long street of one and -two story adobe houses, some of them half-adobe, half-frame. There -were no sidewalks, no lawns, no shrubbery. The fronts of the buildings -were unpainted, and the signs were so scoured from wind and sand that -the letters were barely legible.</p> - -<p>No one seemed to pay any attention to Jim Legg. The town was full of -cattlemen, and the topic of conversation was the train robbery. Jim -Legg listened to the different ideas on the subject, no two of which -were alike. He realized that if he and the express messenger had not -fought and fell out of the car, they would have been in the center of -things.</p> - -<p>And Jim Legg was glad the messenger had lied about the physical -proportions of the man who had attacked him. Jim wondered what had -become of Geronimo, but did not ask any one. And then Jim Legg ran -into the three men from the AK outfit. Their pockets were lined with a -month’s pay, and they were happily inclined toward all humanity.</p> - -<p>Oyster Shell, backed against the Oasis bar, was the first to see Jim -Legg. His eyes opened wide and he spurred Johnny Grant on the calf of -his left leg.</p> - -<p>“My ——, Johnny,” he said softly. “Do m’ eyes deceive me?”</p> - -<p>Johnny looked upon Jim Legg with much the same expression that a -scientist might exhibit upon finding the fossil egg of a dinosaur.</p> - -<p>“Welcome,” said Johnny. “I welcome you to Blue Wells.”</p> - -<p>“How do you do?” smiled Jim. “Nice day, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah,” said Johnny, “We have one like this every thirty days. What -grade of poison does yore stummick stand?”</p> - -<p>Jim Legg had never drank anything more potent than a small glass of -beer, but he knew that he was now in Rome, so he said:</p> - -<p>“Oh, anything you gentlemen are drinking.”</p> - -<p>“Hooch!” exclaimed Eskimo, and the busy bartender sent the bottle -spinning down the bar, followed by four glasses.</p> - -<p>“You want a wash?” asked Johnny, meaning a glass of water or soda.</p> - -<p>Jim Legg glanced at his hands and looked at himself in the back bar.</p> - -<p>“No,” he said finally. “I don’t think so.”</p> - -<p>The three cowpunchers exchanged quick glances. Fate had sent them -something to play with. Eskimo poured out a full glass for their new -playmate, who almost strangled over it. But he got it down.</p> - -<p>“That’s liquor,” declared Johnny, smacking his lips.</p> - -<p>“It’s gug-good,” whispered Jim Legg.</p> - -<p>He cleared his throat and wondered at the warm glow within him.</p> - -<p>“I’m buyin’,” declared Oyster, spinning a dollar on the bar, which got -them four clean glasses.</p> - -<p>Again Jim Legg managed to swallow the liquor, but this time it did not -strangle him. He laughed gleefully at nothing in particular and rested -a hand on Johnny Grant’s shoulder.</p> - -<p>“My name’s Legg,” he told them. “Jim Legg.”</p> - -<p>“That’s quite a name,” agreed Johnny. “My name’s Grant, this one’s -name is Shell, and that Jewish friend of ours there is named Swensen. -We’re Johnny, Oyster and Eskimo, respectably.”</p> - -<p>They all shook hands gravely.</p> - -<p>“If the clerk will furnish us with clean glasses, I’ll make a -purchase,” said Jim Legg solemnly.</p> - -<p>“My ——!” exclaimed Eskimo explosively.</p> - -<p>“Just why?” queried Jim Legg.</p> - -<p>“I thought my belt was comin’ off.”</p> - -<p>They filled their glasses and drank heartily. By this time Jim Legg -seemed to be getting numb, but happily so. The world was bathed in a -rosy glow, and he wanted to sing and dance.</p> - -<p>“Jist what is yore business, Misser Legg?” asked Oyster.</p> - -<p>“I came here,” said Jim, “to be a cowpuncher.”</p> - -<p>Johnny Grant’s foot slipped and he sat down heavily on the bar-rail.</p> - -<p>“That,” said Eskimo owlishly-wise, “is a ambitious thing for to -become. I’ll betcha yuh came to the right place, Jim.”</p> - -<p>“I—I—” Jim hesitated because his tongue did not seem to exactly -function. “I picked thish place at ra-ra-random.”</p> - -<p>“That shounds like a college yell,” said Oyster.</p> - -<p>“You can’t be no cowpuncher in them clothes,” explained Eskimo. -“Never, nos-sir. You look like Sunday. But in the proper clothes you’d -be a dinger.”</p> - -<p>“I intend to dresh the part,” said Jim thickly. “Perhaps I can secure -the proper dresh here in Blue Wells.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you can,” said Johnny. “We can take you to a place where you can -buy just what yuh need, pervidin’ you’ve got the <i>dinero</i>.”</p> - -<p>“Dinero?”</p> - -<p>“Money.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve got five hundred dollars.”</p> - -<p>“My ——!” Johnny took off his hat.</p> - -<p>“And you want to be a cowpuncher—with five hundred dollars!”</p> - -<p>“Isn’t it enough?”</p> - -<p>“Don’ nobody speak for a moment,” begged Oyster. “I want to -conchentrate. I’m about to go into a tranch.”</p> - -<p>“Sh-h-h-h-h!” warned Johnny. “The man is looking into the future.”</p> - -<p>“Is he a medium?” asked Jim Legg, owl-eyed, as he stared at Oyster.</p> - -<p>“Medium ——! He’s rare,” chucked Eskimo.</p> - -<p>“I shee shomethin’ comin’ to a man named Jim Legg,” stated Oyster, his -eyes closed tightly.</p> - -<p>“Yuh see?” applauded Johnny.</p> - -<p>“Yessir,” nodded Jim. “Maybe we better let him alone, while we get me -shome clothes.”</p> - -<p>“He’s comin’ out of it,” announced Eskimo.</p> - -<p>Oyster’s face twitched convulsively and his eyes opened.</p> - -<p>“Where is the haberdasher’s?” asked Jim Legg.</p> - -<p>The three cowboys stared owlishly at each other.</p> - -<p>“Oh, them folks,” Johnny Grant squinted thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>“Must ’a’ been that German fambly that nested in down on the forks of -Rio Creek,” said Eskimo. “They’re gone. Let’s go buy somethin’ to make -a real, regular cowboy out of this here, now, Jimmy Limbs.”</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>The sheriff and deputy came back to Blue Wells in bad humor. They -stabled their horses and went to the office. Scotty Olson leaned -against the doorway and looked across the street at the horses tied at -the Oasis hitch-rack. The three at the far end were from the AK; a -tall roan, a sorrel and a gray.</p> - -<p>Al Porter sagged back in a chair, placed his feet on top of the desk -and drew his sombrero down over his eyes.</p> - -<p>“If I was you I’d go over to the Oasis and have a talk with them AK -scoundrels,” he told Scotty. “By ——, if I was sheriff of this county -I’d shore impress upon ’em that this is a dignified office. I’d make -it dignified, y’betcha.”</p> - -<p>Scotty turned troubled eyes upon his deputy.</p> - -<p>“You would, like ——! You’ll sag jist as quick as anybody, when it -comes to trouble. All the way back from the AK you’ve told me what -you’d do. Talk! Yeah, you can talk, Al. If talkin’ was worth a ——, -you’d be President of the U. S. A.”</p> - -<p>“A-a-a-a-aw, ——!” yawned Porter.</p> - -<p>“Don’t try to pass the buck to me, feller. It ain’t my trouble. If you -want to forgive ’em for lockin’ yuh in a cell—go ahead. It’s none of -my business, anyway. But if yuh want to know what I’d do, I’ll—”</p> - -<p>“I don’t! —— it, Al, I don’t care to hear what you’d do—unless yo’re -willin’ to tell the truth.”</p> - -<p>“All right. We’ll just drop the subject. But if they locked me in a—”</p> - -<p>“They didn’t! —— yuh, Al, I wish they had! I’d throw away the keys and -leave yuh there until yuh quit runnin’ off at the mouth. I’m more -interested in that train robbery than I am in the AK cowpunchers.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, and you stand a fine chance of catchin’ ’em, Scotty. They’ve -had a danged long start of us by this time.”</p> - -<p>“I s’pose.”</p> - -<p>Scotty leaned back against the door and studied the street. He saw Tex -Alden ride in and tie his horse at the rack beside the three AK -horses.</p> - -<p>“Tex Alden jist rode in,” he said indifferently.</p> - -<p>“Thasso?” It did not seem to interest Porter.</p> - -<p>“Probably came in to lose some more money.”</p> - -<p>“Lost eight thousand to Antelope Neal yesterday,” said Porter. “Wonder -where in —— he got so much money. He don’t own that X Bar 6.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t he?”</p> - -<p>“He sure as —— don’t. It belongs to an Eastern outfit.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I don’t care a ——,” said Scotty.</p> - -<p>He had enough worries of his own to think about. He smoothed his -buffalo-horn mustache and almost wished he weren’t the sheriff of Blue -Wells.</p> - -<p>Tex Alden left his horse and started across the street toward a store, -when Lee Barnhardt called to him from the door of his office. Tex -turned and went over to the door of the lawyer’s office, where -Barnhardt was standing.</p> - -<p>“I just wondered if you wasn’t coming to see me, Tex,” smiled -Barnhardt.</p> - -<p>The big cowboy blinked, wondering just why he should make it a point -to see Barnhardt that day.</p> - -<p>“Why, I dunno,” he faltered. “Hadn’t thought of it, Lee.”</p> - -<p>The lawyer motioned Tex into the office and closed the door. He sat -down at his desk, filled his pipe carefully, scratched a match on the -sole of his shoe, and puffed explosively. Then he sagged back in his -chair and looked at Tex with an approving grin.</p> - -<p>“I’ll give you credit for a clean job, Tex,” he said, lowering his -voice confidentially. “A —— clean job.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah?” Tex scratched his chin. “Just what is it, Lee?”</p> - -<p>“What is it?” The lawyer leaned forward, the smoke curling lazily from -his nostrils. “Oh, now, Tex! We’re friends, you know.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” grinned Tex. “And what am I supposed to say?”</p> - -<p>“It isn’t what you say—it’s what you do. My mouth is shut tight, -except between us, Tex. And don’t forget that I was the one who told -you where to get it.”</p> - -<p>The big cowboy studied Lee Barnhardt, a puzzled frown between his -brows.</p> - -<p>“Go ahead and talk about it, Lee,” he said.</p> - -<p>Barnhardt’s shrewd eyes appraised the foreman of the X Bar 6. He knew -Tex was not a man you could scare or drive. He would have to go easy, -at least until he knew just what Tex meant to do. Then—</p> - -<p>“You owe me eight thousand dollars, Tex,” he said.</p> - -<p>“And a swell chance you’ve got of collectin’ it.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I dunno, Tex. Anyway, I’ll be satisfied with the eight thousand. -It ought to be more, but I can take the eight thousand with a clear -conscience, because I’m not supposed to know where it comes from.”</p> - -<p>“Would yuh mind repeatin’ that?” asked Tex evenly.</p> - -<p>“No need of that, Tex. You know what I mean. There were two or three -men with you last night. I realize that they have to get their share, -but even at that—well, as I said before, I’ll take the eight thousand -and call it square.”</p> - -<p>Tex got to his feet and walked back to the door, where he turned and -looked at Barnhardt, who had also stood up, leaning across his desk.</p> - -<p>“I reckon you’ve gone loco, Lee,” he said softly. “I dunno what yo’re -talkin’ about—and I don’t reckon you do either.”</p> - -<p>“The ——, I don’t,” rasped the lawyer. “If you think you can cut me out -of that Santa Rita pay-roll, you’re crazy. It was done on my -information, and you’ll come clean with me, or you’ll find just how -high a fee I can charge.”</p> - -<p>Tex blinked at him, a puzzled expression in his eyes. Then he turned -on his heel and left the office, while Barnhardt stopped at the window -and watched Tex walk slowly across the street to the Oasis, where he -stopped and glanced back toward the office, before going into the -saloon.</p> - -<p>Barnhardt was mad. In fact, he was almost mad enough to go to the -sheriff and tell him that Tex Alden knew that the Santa Rita pay-roll -was coming in on that train. But he was not quite mad enough to do -that. There would be plenty of time for that, in case Tex could not be -induced to make a split.</p> - -<p>Barnhardt put on his hat, yanked it down on his head, forcing his ears -to flare out, and headed for the sheriff’s office, intending to find -out what the sheriff had in mind.</p> - -<p>He was nearing the Blue Wells General Merchandise Store entrance, when -four men came out. Three of them were the boys from the AK, but the -fourth one was a stranger. Every article of his apparel shrieked of -newness.</p> - -<p>His sombrero was the biggest they could find in town, and was -surmounted with a silver-studded band. His robin’s-egg-blue shirt was -of flimsy silk, his overalls new; and the creaking bat-wing chaps were -hand-stamped and silver-ornamented. His thin neck was circled with a -scarlet silk muffler, and his feet were encased in the highest-heeled -boots in town.</p> - -<p>Around his waist was a wide yellow cartridge belt, glistening with its -load of cartridges, and the revolver holster was a sample of -leather-working art. He carried a heavy Colt .45 in his hand—or rather -in both hands. James Eaton Legg was in a fair way to become a -cowpuncher.</p> - -<p>Barnhardt stopped and looked at him. It did not require an expert eye -to detect that all four of them were pie-eyed drunk. Barnhardt noticed -that the sheriff was coming up the street from his office. The lawyer -had heard about what had happened to the sheriff, and he wondered just -what the sheriff would have to say to the boys from the AK.</p> - -<p>Eskimo stepped back from Jim Legg, reared back on his heels and looked -the young man over with appraising eyes.</p> - -<p>“Jimmie,” he said thickly, “yo’re a cowboy. Yessir, if you ain’t, I’ve -never seen one. My ——, yuh hurt m’ eyes.”</p> - -<p>“Look at ’m slaunch-wise,” advised Johnny Grant. “My ——, don’t never -take a chance of lookin’ at him square. Ain’t he a work of art? -Whatcha tryin’ to do with that gun?”</p> - -<p>Jim Legg was trying to see how the thing functioned, and it was fully -loaded. It was the first time he had ever handled a six-shooter, and -it interested him.</p> - -<p>“Don’t cock it!” choked Eskimo. “——’s delight! Yeah—that thing yuh -jist pulled back! Don’t touch that thing underneath it! Keep yore -finger off it. I tell yuh! A-a-a-w, Johnny, take it away from him, -can’tcha?”</p> - -<p>“Aw, whazzamatter?” grunted Jim Legg. “I’d like to shee shomebody take -it away from me.”</p> - -<p>“No-o-o-o-o!” wailed Johnny, ducking aside. “Point it in the air, you -cross between a monkey and a Christmas tree!”</p> - -<p>But Jim Legg reeled around on his high-heels, giggling drunkenly, the -big gun in both hands.</p> - -<p>“Don’t do that, you —— fool!” wailed Oyster. “Aw, fer—”</p> - -<p><i>Wham!</i> The big gun spouted smoke between Johnny Grant and Eskimo, who -promptly fell sidewise, and the bullet tore into the dirt almost under -the feet of the sheriff, who had stopped about fifty feet away.</p> - -<p>The recoil of the gun caused Jim Legg to turn half-way around. He -staggered back on his heels, possibly more frightened than any of the -rest.</p> - -<p>“Whee-e-e-e-e!” he yelled, and his next shot missed Lee Barnhardt by a -full inch.</p> - -<p>“Yee-e-e-e-o-o-ow!” screamed Johnny Grant. “Cowboy blood! Look at the -sheriff!”</p> - -<p>Scotty Olson was galloping back toward his office, his legs working as -fast as possible, his hat clutched tightly in one hand.</p> - -<p>“Look at the lawyer!” yelled Eskimo, and they turned to see Lee -Barnhardt go head first into his office door, like a frightened -gopher, dodging a hawk.</p> - -<p>But Oyster Shell was not paying any attention to the departing sheriff -and lawyer. He wrenched the gun from Jim’s hands and grasped Jim by -the arm.</p> - -<p>“C’mon, you —— fools!” he yelled. “The sheriff don’t know it was an -accident, and we don’t want to lose Jimmy!”</p> - -<p>Realizing that Oyster was right, the other two helped him rush the -bewildered Jim across the street to the hitch-rack.</p> - -<p>“Git on!” snorted Oyster, whirling his gray horse around. “Git in the -saddle, Jim; I’ll ride behind.”</p> - -<p>“I never rode no horsh,” Jim drew back, shaking his head.</p> - -<p>“You never shot at no sheriff before either!” snapped Eskimo.</p> - -<p>He swung Jim Legg up bodily and fairly threw him into the saddle. Jim -managed to grasp the horn in time to prevent himself from going off -the other side.</p> - -<p>The others were mounting in a whirl of dust. Jim felt Oyster swing up -behind him, and then he seemed to lose all sense of direction. The -gray flung down its head and went pitching down the street, trying to -rid itself of the unaccustomed load, while on either side rode Eskimo -and Johnny, yelling at the top of their voices.</p> - -<p>“Pull leather, you ornyment!” yelled Johnny. “Anchor yoreself, son! -You’ll either be a cowpuncher or a corpse!”</p> - -<p>After about ten or twelve lurching bucks, which did not seem to -disturb Oyster to any great extent, the gray’s head came up and they -went out of Blue Wells, like three racers on the stretch.</p> - -<p>Scotty Olson skidded into his office, fell over a chair, and sat -there, his mouth wide open, while Al Porter ran to the door in time to -see the four men cross the street. He turned back to the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“What in —— happened, Scotty?”</p> - -<p>Scotty got to his feet and brushed off his knees. Then he went to the -corner behind his desk and picked up a double-barreled shotgun. -Breaking it open to see whether it was loaded, he limped back to the -doorway in time to see the three horses go pounding out of town in a -flurry of dust.</p> - -<p>“Goin’ duck huntin’?” asked Porter sarcastically.</p> - -<p>Scotty limped back and stood the gun in the corner.</p> - -<p>“By ——, that makes me mad,” he said seriously. “I seen them AK fellers -up by the store; so I goes up there to have a heart-to-heart talk with -’em. But before I get there, one of ’em takes a shot at me and almost -knocked a hole in my right boot. And when I turned around they took -another shot at me.”</p> - -<p>“That don’t sound reasonable,” said Porter.</p> - -<p>“I don’t give a —— how it sounds; I was there, wasn’t I?”</p> - -<p>The shots had attracted some attention, and the sudden exit of the AK -boys made things look suspicious. Scotty and Porter went up the -street, where several men had gathered in front of the store, and were -talking with Lee Barnhardt, who was telling them all about it.</p> - -<p>“I tell you, it was deliberate,” he said. “I saw that cowboy take aim -at me. Why, I heard that bullet sing past my ear, so close that the -air from it staggered me.”</p> - -<p>“Why did he shoot at you, Lee?” asked the storekeeper, Abe Moon, a -tall, serious, tobacco-chewing person.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. Why, I don’t even know the man.”</p> - -<p>“I never seen him before either,” declared the merchant. “He came in a -while ago with Oyster, Eskimo and Johnny. They were all pretty full, I -think. Anyway, they outfitted this young man with everything. Even -bought a six-gun, and loaded it for him. He left his other clothes, -wrapped up, in the back room.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff moved in closer.</p> - -<p>“Wasn’t it one of the AK boys that done the shootin’, Lee?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“The stranger,” said one of the men. “Did yuh hear his name, Abe?”</p> - -<p>“They introduced him to me. Said his name was Legg.”</p> - -<p>“Legg?” queried Barnhardt blankly. He shook his head slowly. “I dunno -anybody by that name.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t either—and he shot at me,” said the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“He’s prob’ly one of them peculiar jiggers that would rather shoot -strangers than acquaintances,” said the merchant dryly.</p> - -<p>“Well, he’s goin’ to hear from me,” declared the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“Write him a letter,” grinned one of the men in the crowd.</p> - -<p>“He was pretty drunk,” offered the merchant.</p> - -<p>“He wasn’t too drunk to shoot straight,” said Scotty. “I’m promisin’ -yuh right now that the next time that AK outfit comes to Blue Wells, -I’m packin’ a riot gun. Blue Wells has stood all it’s ever goin’ to -from that layout. And,” he added, “I don’t care a —— who knows it.”</p> - -<p>Lee Barnhardt turned on his heel and walked back to his office. Chet -Le Moyne and Dug Haley, the man who had come with Le Moyne to guard -the Santa Rita pay-roll, rode in and drew up in front of the store. -Haley was a heavy-set, stolid looking person, with a wispy mustache -and only a faint suggestion of ever having had eyebrows.</p> - -<p>Le Moyne smiled and spoke to the men, but Haley merely nodded.</p> - -<p>“I wanted to see you, Scotty,” said Le Moyne. “Goin’ back to your -office pretty soon?”</p> - -<p>“Right away, Le Moyne.”</p> - -<p>Le Moyne nodded and rode beside the sheriff down to the office, while -Haley tied his horse in front of the store, and went in to make some -purchases. Le Moyne tied his horse and went into the office with the -sheriff.</p> - -<p>“What do you know, Scotty?” asked Le Moyne.</p> - -<p>“Not very much. It kinda looks to me as though they had a big start on -us, Le Moyne.”</p> - -<p>“Have you anythin’ to work on?”</p> - -<p>“I said I didn’t have much,” Scotty wasn’t going to tell Le Moyne of -his suspicions against the Taylors or the AK.</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh,” muttered Le Moyne. “Well, I just wanted to tell you that the -express company will have a man on the job, and the Santa Rita company -will also have an investigator. They’ll be here tonight, and I want -you to help ’em all you can. We’re offering a thousand dollars reward, -and the express company will probably offer somethin’. What was all -this stuff about you bein’ locked in your own jail?”</p> - -<p>The sheriff told Le Moyne of the incident, and the handsome paymaster -could not suppress a laugh.</p> - -<p>“Go ahead and laugh,” sighed the harassed sheriff. “It sounds funny.”</p> - -<p>“But why did they do it, Sheriff?”</p> - -<p>“That’s somethin’ I’m goin’ to try and find out.”</p> - -<p>“Meanin’ what?”</p> - -<p>“Well, it kept me from quick action on that robbery, didn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“It rather looks that way,” admitted Le Moyne. “Well, I’ve got to be -moving along. I just wanted to tell you about the detectives, and I -know you’ll help them all yuh can.”</p> - -<p>Le Moyne left the office and went up to the store, where he joined -Haley. Tex Alden came in to purchase some tobacco. He nodded to Le -Moyne, made his purchases and went out again. There had never been -open enmity between them, nor had they ever been friends.</p> - -<p>“Tex got hit pretty hard the other day,” offered the storekeeper. “Yuh -heard about Antelope Neal takin’ eight thousand away from Tex in a -two-handed poker game, didn’t yuh?”</p> - -<p>“I heard he did,” nodded Le Moyne. “It sounded fishy.”</p> - -<p>“Well, it wasn’t. He lost it all right. What’s new on the pay-roll -robbery?”</p> - -<p>“Not a thing. The express company has a detective on the case, and -we’ve sent for one. They might find out somethin’, but I doubt it. -Those men had a good start, and it’s pretty hard to identify gold -coin. If they’re ever caught, it won’t be through anything developed -around here.”</p> - -<p>“What do yuh think about that feller throwin’ the messenger out of the -car? That sounds funny to me.”</p> - -<p>“It does sound rather queer,” admitted Le Moyne. “But I guess it -happened. The messenger sure looked as though he had been through a -fight. And he wasn’t there when the robbery took place, it seems. -Anyway, the money is gone. We better get the mail, Jud, and head for -the mine.”</p> - -<p>“How much was in that pay-roll?” asked the merchant.</p> - -<p>“Thirty-one thousand and eighty dollars, all in gold. It’ll make -somebody happy, Abe.”</p> - -<p>“Yes—or unhappy, Chet. I don’t reckon any man ever got a lot of -happiness from what he stole. It’s unlucky money.”</p> - -<h2>VII—JIMMY WINS HIS SPURS</h2> - -<p>A few short days wrought a great change in Jim Legg. His face had -received its baptism of Arizona sun, and no longer was he the -pale-faced city dweller. His skin was beginning to peel, and as Johnny -Grant said—“He peels off like a package of cigaret papers.”</p> - -<p>His hands were seared from fast-traveling ropes, his silken shirt was -minus half of one sleeve, and had a huge rent down the back. His -ornate sombrero had fallen off in a corral, where a circling remuda -had trampled it into the sand, giving it an antique air.</p> - -<p>And out of self-defense he had quit wearing glasses. Just now he -leaned against the corral fence, trying to roll a cigaret with cramped -fingers. Beside him squatted Johnny Grant, his eyes fixed curiously -upon this young man, whose eyes were filled with determination.</p> - -<p>About fifty feet away from them were Oyster and Eskimo, saddling a -horse. The animal was humped painfully, squirming uneasily under the -pull of the cinch, but fearing to move, because a heavy bandage had -been fastened across its eyes. The two cowboys were talking softly to -each other.</p> - -<p>“This has gone past the funny stage,” Johnny Grant spoke to Jimmy Legg -seriously. “We was jokin’ when we dared yuh to ride Cowcatcher. You -can’t ride him. He ditched Eskimo in four jumps, and Eskimo is the -best there is around here, Jimmy.”</p> - -<p>“I said I’d ride him,” reminded Jimmy Legg. “I haven’t quit yet, have -I?” Johnny Grant shook his head.</p> - -<p>“That’s why I hate to see yuh fork that bronc, Jimmy. I don’t <i>sabe</i> -yuh, kid. You ain’t strong. Yore body ain’t built for the shocks yuh -get in this business. We was raised for this kinda stuff. You ain’t no -youngster. That bronc will jist about flatten yuh for life—and whatsa -use?”</p> - -<p>“Johnny, I want to be a cowboy,” said Jimmy seriously. “It’s something -I can’t explain right now. I appreciate you trying to save me. I’ve -been thrown five times since I came here, and I’m still able to hobble -around.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, I know. But this is a <i>horse</i>. He’s plumb bad. If there’s any -slip in the boys bein’ able to herd him away after he’s spilled yuh, -he might tromp yuh.”</p> - -<p>“But,” Jim Legg spoke softly, “I’ve got confidence in Oyster and -Eskimo. They’ll do their part. If I can ride Cowcatcher, will you -admit that I can ride?”</p> - -<p>Johnny smiled softly. “I’ll admit that yore the best rider in the Blue -Wells country.”</p> - -<p>“All set!” called Eskimo. “Johnny, you pull the blind, after me and -Oyster get all set, will yuh?”</p> - -<p>Johnny held Cowcatcher while Jim Legg mounted. The rough-coated gray -outlaw, which had defied the best riders of the Blue Wells ranges, -stiffened slightly, but did not move. Oyster and Eskimo mounted and -rode in on each side of him, prepared to block the bucker from heading -into obstacles, and to herd him away from the rider, in case of a -spill.</p> - -<p>They did not see the sheriff, deputy and another rider swing around -the corner of the corral and come toward them.</p> - -<p>Jim Legg straightened up in his saddle, grasped the reins tightly and -nodded to Johnny Grant.</p> - -<p>Johnny reached up and grasped the bandage.</p> - -<p>“Pull leather, Jimmy,” he said softly. “Don’t be ashamed to do it. -It’s only fools and contest riders that don’t, when they feel -themselves goin’.”</p> - -<p>But Jim Legg shut his lips tightly and looked straight ahead. He had -asked to ride Cowcatcher, after every half-way bucker on the AK had -thrown him, and he was going to ride him, or get thrown clean.</p> - -<p>Then the bandage was jerked off, and Cowcatcher was moving as he -caught his first flash of sunlight, but not ahead, as they expected. -Veteran of many battles, he hated the horses and riders which crowded -him too closely; so he had whirled free of them, catching them -flat-flooted, headed the wrong way.</p> - -<p>Although Jim Legg was not unseated, he was flung sidewise, and his -right spur hooked wickedly into Cowcatcher’s flank; hooked in while -the outlaw was still in the air, heading for the three riders which -were not over a hundred feet away, just drawing up to witness the -sport.</p> - -<p>There was no chance for Oyster and Eskimo to ride herd on Cowcatcher. -The gray outlaw churned into the dust, fairly screaming with rage, -head down, running like a streak, forgetting to buck, because of that -spur, socked to the full limit of the rowels into his flank.</p> - -<p>Johnny Grant ran toward the corral, trying to see through the cloud of -dust. Jim Legg was still in the same position, hands flung up, as if -fearful of making a mistake and pulling leather.</p> - -<p>The sheriff’s party tried to spur their horses aside, but their -slow-moving mounts failed to move quickly enough.</p> - -<p>Came the crash of impact, the scream of a horse. A man yelled. Eskimo -and Oyster were riding toward them as fast as possible, while Johnny -Grant ran through the dust, trying to see what had happened.</p> - -<p>He saw one horse and rider heading toward the ranch-house, and a -moment later he heard something crash into the corral fence. Two -horses were down. A gust of wind blew the dust aside and he saw Scotty -Olson on his hands and knees about twenty feet away from his horse, -going around and around, like a pup trying to lie down.</p> - -<p>Al Porter was flat on his back just beyond the two horses, which were -trying to get up, and up by the house was the third member of the -sheriff’s party, trying to recover his reins, which he had dropped.</p> - -<p>And there was Cowcatcher, standing in an angle of the corral fence, -head hanging down, a most dejected-looking outlaw, while still on his -back was Jimmy Legg, his hands resting on the saddle-horn, apparently -oblivious to everything.</p> - -<p>He slowly climbed down and staggered toward Johnny Grant, his lips -parting in a foolish smile, as he whispered—</p> - -<p>“My ——, wasn’t that a wreck!”</p> - -<p>Oyster and Eskimo had helped Al Porter to his feet, and he was -clinging to them, puffing heavily. The sheriff managed to get up -without further difficulty, and they waited for him to recover his -speech. The two horses scrambled to their feet and moved toward the -ranch-house, still frightened.</p> - -<p>The sheriff was mad; so much so, in fact, that he almost yanked one -side of his mustache off, trying to find words with which to express -his feelings.</p> - -<p>“Yuh know, Sheriff,” said Johnny Grant, anticipating the sheriff’s -coming flood of profanity, “you know it was an accident.”</p> - -<p>“Yea-a-a-huh?” blurted the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“Wh-wh-who was ridin’ that —— bub-bucker?” stammered Al Porter.</p> - -<p>Johnny looked around at Jim Legg, who was still a trifle dazed over it -all. Johnny grasped him by the arm and turned to the deputy.</p> - -<p>“This is Jimmy Legg, the only man that ever stayed on Cowcatcher.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t give a ——!” roared the sheriff. “Every time I get in sight of -you fellers, somethin’ happens. By ——, I’m sick and tired of it! Do -yuh hear me?”</p> - -<p>“Louder and more profane,” begged Eskimo, cupping one hand beside his -ear.</p> - -<p>“A-a-a-aw, shut up!” The sheriff was too mad to say anything more.</p> - -<p>The stranger had ridden up closer to them, and was listening with an -amused smile. He was a well-dressed, middle-aged sort of person, -rather hard-faced.</p> - -<p>“I got out of that pretty lucky,” he said, “I happened to be just -outside the crash.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I didn’t,” said Porter ruefully. “Any old time there’s a -crash—I’m in it. Boys,” he turned to Johnny Grant, “this is Mr. Wade, -the detective for the express company.”</p> - -<p>The boys of the AK looked Wade over critically, but the keen scrutiny -of these sons of the range did not embarrass Wade. He was what is know -as “hard-boiled.”</p> - -<p>“Hyah,” nodded Johnny Grant. “What do yuh know?”</p> - -<p>“Not very much,” admitted Wade. “What do you know?”</p> - -<div class='poetry-container'> -<div class='poetry'> -<div class='stanza'> -<div class='verse'>“I know m’ head,</div> -<div class='verse'>I know m’ feet,</div> -<div class='verse'>I know you’ll soon</div> -<div class='verse'>Stand up to eat.”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -<p>Oyster Shell chanted it softly, noticing that the detective was -sitting rather sidewise in the saddle. Wade grinned widely.</p> - -<p>“I guess that’s right,” he said. “I’m not used to riding.”</p> - -<p>“You workin’ on that train robbery?” asked Eskimo.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’m supposed to be,” he turned and looked at Jimmy Legg, who was -still leaning against Johnny Grant. “They tell me you’re a stranger -around here, Mr. Legg.”</p> - -<p>“I—I’ve been here a while,” stammered Jimmy Legg.</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh,” nodded the sheriff, breaking in on the detective. “You -showed up the night of the robbery, didn’t yuh?”</p> - -<p>“He did not,” said Johnny Grant quickly, “he was here the day before.”</p> - -<p>“Here at the AK?” queried Porter.</p> - -<p>“Yeah,” defiantly.</p> - -<p>“That’s funny,” smiled Porter. “We just met George Bonnette in Blue -Wells, and he said you came here to the ranch the day after the -hold-up. And that yuh wasn’t even hired yet.”</p> - -<p>“And that none of the boys knew yuh, until they met yuh that day in -Blue Wells,” added Scotty Olson. “Yuh bought all yore clothes there in -Blue Wells, and you —— near killed me and Lee Barnhardt, because yuh -acted like yuh didn’t know nothin’ about a six-gun. And yuh had plenty -of money to buy anythin’ yuh wanted.”</p> - -<p>Johnny Grant, caught in a lie, did not back up an inch. He stepped in -front of Jimmy Legg and glared at the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“Well, what if he did?” demanded Johnny.</p> - -<p>“It’s nothing to quarrel about,” interposed the detective. “I merely -wanted to know when, how and why he came to Blue Wells. He’s a -stranger around here, it seems.”</p> - -<p>“And if he is—what about it?” asked Eskimo. “There’s no law against a -stranger comin’ here, is there?”</p> - -<p>“Not at all,” smiled the detective. “This man does not fit the -description of any of the robbers, but we can’t afford to miss any -lead that might set us on the right track. There’s a man and a dog to -be accounted for.</p> - -<p>“It seems that this man shipped his dog in the express car. We have a -fairly accurate description of the dog, but not of the man. The -express messenger fought with a man who got on his car at Encinas. -They fell out of the car, while the train was in motion.</p> - -<p>“This dog was on the car at that time, because the engineer and -fireman saw him when the three robbers led them back to the car. The -dog was there when the engineer got the messenger’s shotgun and -started battle with the three robbers.</p> - -<p>“A few minutes later the engine crew sneaked back to their engine to -escape the bullets of the bandits. The fireman says he thought he -heard a man walk past the engine, just before they started back to -pick up the rest of the train, but he is not sure. At any rate, the -dog was missing when the train came to Blue Wells.</p> - -<p>“Our theory is that the dog was merely a blind to let the man into the -car at Encinas. It gave the robbers an inside man, in case the -messenger might refuse to open the door. Of course they could dynamite -the door, but that takes time. Perhaps the inside man did not expect -the messenger to put up a battle, and that the falling out of the -express car was an unexpected incident.</p> - -<p>“The messenger states that the man tried to pull a gun, which -strengthens the theory of the fourth bandit. It is just barely -possible that this dog might be identified; so the owner took a -chance, sneaked back to the hold-up and secured the dog. This would -make it appear that they felt it necessary to have the dog in their -possession. That dog was in the car when the engineer and fireman went -back to the engine. When the train arrived at Blue Wells, the dog was -gone.”</p> - -<p>“Which don’t prove anythin’,” said Johnny Grant. “When the train was -robbed there were three masked men on the car, and when the train got -to Blue Wells there wasn’t a —— masked man on it.”</p> - -<p>The detective laughed.</p> - -<p>“That’s true. But it doesn’t explain when and how Mr. Legg came to -Blue Wells.”</p> - -<p>“I walked,” declared Jimmy Legg bravely. “The train passed me.”</p> - -<p>“Where?” asked the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. It was dark, and I’m not familiar with this country. I -got a room at a hotel that night.”</p> - -<p>“When did you hear that there had been a hold-up?”</p> - -<p>“I heard them talking about it the next day,” said Jimmy Legg -truthfully.</p> - -<p>He did not think it necessary to tell them he had also heard it the -night before.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think he knows anything about it,” said the sheriff. “He -don’t fit the description of any one of the robbers, and it’s a cinch -he ain’t the big geezer that fought the messenger.”</p> - -<p>“What kind of a dog was it?” asked Oyster.</p> - -<p>“No special breed,” replied the detective. “It was of medium size, -yellowish-red, and had one black eye. At least that’s the description -which was given to me.”</p> - -<p>A few minutes later the three officers rode away, and the cowboys -turned their attention to Cowcatcher, the gray outlaw, which was still -beside the corral fence. The collision with the other two horses had -wrenched its right shoulder, which accounted for its not going any -farther.</p> - -<p>They took off the saddle and turned it loose. The boys were loud in -their praise of Jimmy’s ability as a rider. The marvel of it all was -the fact that Jim had stayed with the horse.</p> - -<p>“If he knowed anythin’ about ridin’, he’d ’a’ been killed,” Eskimo -told Johnny a few minutes later, after Jim had gone into the -bunk-house. “He had the luck of a drunk. I’m glad it happened -thataway, instead of havin’ to pick him up on a shovel.”</p> - -<p>“Sure,” grinned Johnny, and then confidentially. “Eskimo, I don’t -<i>sabe</i> that feller. Remember when them fellers were shootin’ at us -from the express car? Remember the feller we seen, who comes along the -track and gets into the car?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, I remember, Johnny. But I was too drunk to remember much more -than that.”</p> - -<p>“I wasn’t as sober as a judge myself, Eskimo. But I’ll be danged if it -was a big man. Do yuh remember somethin’ about somebody named -Geronimo?”</p> - -<p>“That’s right, Johnny! I wonder if it was the man’s name, or the -dog’s.”</p> - -<p>“And that man headed for Blue Wells, Eskimo.”</p> - -<p>Eskimo nodded seriously.</p> - -<p>“That’s right. By golly, don’tcha know,” Eskimo scratched his head -thoughtfully, “I’m wonderin’ what our little friend knows about that -hold-up.”</p> - -<p>“And why he wants to be a cowboy. Anyway,” Johnny grinned widely, “I’m -for him. He’s got guts. If the Old Man will hire him, we’ll make a -puncher out of him.”</p> - -<p>Jimmy Legg was thanking his stars that Geronimo had deserted him. He -was stiff and sore from his efforts to learn the cattle business all -in a few days, and he did not realize that the boys had been trying to -make him quit. He had been thrown from bucking horses, until it seemed -to him that ranch life consisted of dull thuds.</p> - -<p>Because he could not rope from a horse the boys had let him work from -the ground during a day’s calf-branding, and his hands were seared so -badly he could hardly shut them. He had managed to make enough good -casts to encourage him, and he had spent hours alone in the corral, -throwing loops at a snubbing post.</p> - -<p>But his unfailing good-humor and earnest endeavor had caused the boys -to go easier than they would have had he not been so foolishly -innocent. George Bonnette had watched him, but said nothing. He was -not running a school for making cowpunchers, but decided that Jimmy -Legg was earning his board and keep.</p> - -<p>Jimmy had decided to ride to Blue Wells that afternoon, but after a -nap, which left him stiff and sore, he decided to saddle a horse and -go for a ride into the hills. The other boys had ridden away before -Jimmy awoke; so he saddled the horse alone for the first time. It was -a fairly well broken roan mare, and he had little difficulty. He -buckled on his gun and rode away.</p> - -<p>Although the hills were fairly open, Jimmy watched his landmarks -carefully. He realized that the hills and dales looked pretty much -alike, and it might be difficult for him to hit a straight line back -to the ranch.</p> - -<p>A coyote crossed in front of him, stopped long enough to get a good -look, and went on. Jimmy did not realize that it was a wild animal. A -flock of blue quail whirred up in front of the horse and went -careening down across a brushy draw. Something told him that these -were game birds, and he wondered whether they were prairie chickens. -He had heard of them.</p> - -<p>He wasted several cigaret papers, trying to master the art of rolling -a cigaret on a moving horse. He did not in the least resemble the -James Eaton Legg, who had slid off his high stool in Mellon & -Company’s office a short time before. His face was just as thin, but -there was none of the office pallor. He was, as Eskimo declared, -“burnt to a darned cinder.”</p> - -<p>His hands were red, his lower lip cracked. And he had quit wearing -glasses. It seemed to him that they were too indelibly stamped with -his former occupation. He squinted badly in the bright sun, but his -vision was all right. His ornate cowboy garb was no longer ornate, and -to the casual eye he would have appeared about the same as the rest of -the range riders.</p> - -<p>And, to his great delight, he was picking up a smattering of range -lingo, a few well-chosen cuss words, and he could draw his six-shooter -out of the holster without shooting it accidentally. He had realized -later how close he had been to killing two men, and had promised -himself that when he went to town with the boys he would leave his gun -at the ranch.</p> - -<p>He rode into a well defined cattle-trail and managed to light his -cigaret. Since leaving the ranch he had ridden at a walk, but now he -spurred his horse into a gallop. It gave him a thrill to ride alone; -to know that critical eyes were not watching his riding ability. The -mare was willing to run, but he curbed her slightly. He tried to -remember a song that Eskimo sang, but the words escaped him.</p> - -<p>In his reckless abandon he stood up in his stirrups, as he had seen -Johnny Grant do many times, whipped off his sombrero and slapped the -mare across the rump.</p> - -<p>The next thing he realized was that the mare’s ears had disappeared -with a terrible lurch, and that he was again flying through space. He -struck sitting down in the sand, and skidded along for several feet -before stopping. He was badly jarred, but unhurt. His sombrero sailed -into the brush, and the mare kept right on going for a hundred feet or -so, where she whirled around, cut across a little ridge and went back -toward the AK.</p> - -<p>“That was an awful fool thing to do.”</p> - -<p>The voice seemed to come from nowhere. Jimmy Legg stretched his neck -and looked around. Standing in the trail, just a few feet beyond him -was a girl—Marion Taylor. Jimmy Legg shut one eye and considered her -gravely. He was sure he was mistaken, and wondered whether this could -be a mirage. Oyster had told him of many mirages in that country, but -he had never mentioned one of a pretty girl, who could talk.</p> - -<p>“What was a fool thing?” asked Jimmy.</p> - -<p>“Slappin’ a horse, and gettin’ throwed off,” she replied.</p> - -<p>Jimmy got to his feet, braced his legs and stared at her.</p> - -<p>“I dunno just what did happen,” he confessed foolishly.</p> - -<p>Marion eyed him gravely, and he thought she was the prettiest girl he -had ever seen.</p> - -<p>“You must be the new man at the AK,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Yes ma’am, I’m the new cowpuncher.”</p> - -<p>“Cowpuncher?”</p> - -<p>“Well, yea-a-ah,” he tried to imitate Johnny Grant.</p> - -<p>The girl laughed.</p> - -<p>“I’m James Eat—Jimmy Legg,” he stammered.</p> - -<p>“I am Marion Taylor,” she said, smiling. “We own the Double Bar 8.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes.”</p> - -<p>They considered each other silently for a while. Jimmy glanced around.</p> - -<p>“Where’s your horse, Miss Taylor?”</p> - -<p>She colored slightly.</p> - -<p>“Got away from me. Spike hates snakes, you see. We found a big -rattler, and I got off to shoot it. I didn’t want to shoot off Spike, -because he hates a gun; so I got off, and when I shot the rattler, -Spike yanked away.”</p> - -<p>Jimmy nodded.</p> - -<p>“We’ve both lost our horses, it seems. You see, I don’t know anything -about snakes.”</p> - -<p>“No? You know a rattler when you see one, don’t you?”</p> - -<p>“No, I’m sure I wouldn’t.”</p> - -<p>“Then you better walk carefully, because we’ve got plenty of them -around here. You’ll probably see one on your way back to the AK.”</p> - -<p>“Possibly,” said Jimmy gravely. “But I’m not going back—not now. You -see, I’m going to take you home first.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no,” Marion smiled shortly. “It’s only about three miles, you -see. I don’t mind the walk.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’m goin’ along,” declared Jimmy. “You might get bit by a -snake, or—or—”</p> - -<p>Marion smiled with amusement.</p> - -<p>“Do you think you could protect me from a rattler, Mr. Legg?”</p> - -<p>“I dunno,” confessed Jimmy.</p> - -<p>He glanced at the Colt, which swung from her hip.</p> - -<p>“Can you hit anything with that?”</p> - -<p>“Sometimes. Why?”</p> - -<p>“I was just wondering.”</p> - -<p>“Can you shoot?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Yea-a-a-ah, sure,” solemnly. Then he laughed outright. “I almost -killed the sheriff and a prominent attorney, I believe. It—it went off -when I wasn’t looking, you see.”</p> - -<p>“I heard about it.”</p> - -<p>They both laughed.</p> - -<p>“Why not walk to the AK?” asked Marion. “It’s a lot nearer than the -Double Bar 8. We—I could get a horse there.”</p> - -<p>Jimmy shook his head quickly.</p> - -<p>“Everybody is away, and the only horse there is one they call -Cowcatcher.”</p> - -<p>“Cowcatcher!” exclaimed Marion. “I’m sure I don’t want to ride him.”</p> - -<p>“You couldn’t, anyway. I rode him today, and he ran rather wild, it -seems. We knocked the horses from under the sheriff and the deputy, -and ran into the corral fence, where Cowcatcher hurt his shoulder.”</p> - -<p>Marion looked at him in amazement. She knew the reputation of that -outlaw bucker.</p> - -<p>“Do you mean to say that you rode Cowcatcher?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, ma’am.”</p> - -<p>“And were you on him when he quit?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” innocently. “He’s not very tame, is he?” Jimmy laughed -softly. “It was lots of fun.”</p> - -<p>“Lots of fun?” Marion bit her lip and stared at this strange young -man, whose language and actions did not brand him as a man of the -ranges, and yet who had ridden the worst horse in the Blue Wells -country, and thought it lots of fun.</p> - -<p>And yet she had seen him thrown clean at the first pitching buck of a -galloping horse. She could see that he had been freshly sunburned, and -that his clothes were comparatively new.</p> - -<p>“I don’t understand you,” she told him. Jimmy looked away, his eyes -squinted seriously.</p> - -<p>“Do you always have to understand any one?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“You’re not a cowpuncher, Mr. Legg.”</p> - -<p>Jimmy turned to her, a half-smile on his wide mouth.</p> - -<p>“Do I look as raw as all that, Miss Taylor? I know I’m not a cowboy, -but I’m going to be. Johnny Grant says I’ll make a good one, if I live -to finish my education.”</p> - -<p>Marion laughed at his naive confession.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t know that anybody ever wanted to be a cowboy,” she said. -“It’s just hard work.”</p> - -<p>Jimmy Legg looked at her, a curious expression in his eyes.</p> - -<p>“And romance,” he said slowly. “It is a big world out here. The blue -nights, the sweet air of the hills in the morning, the midday, when -the air fairly hums with the heat; and then when the shadows of sunset -come, and the birds call—isn’t it worth learning to be a cowboy, to -live here?”</p> - -<p>“Well, when you see things that way, Mr. Legg. I’ve lived here almost -all my life, and I—maybe I’m so used to it.”</p> - -<p>“Having cowboys thrown off at your feet?” grinned Jimmy.</p> - -<p>Marion flushed slightly.</p> - -<p>“No, this is the first time. But you see, you are not a regular -cowpuncher.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose that does make a difference. Perhaps we better start -walking, Miss Taylor.”</p> - -<p>“Well, if you insist. I can let you have a horse to ride back to the -AK.”</p> - -<p>“That will be fine. We should be at your ranch in an hour.”</p> - -<p>“But we won’t,” laughed Marion. “Any time you walk three miles an hour -through this sand, the State of Arizona will give you a medal for -bravery. In about fifteen minutes you’ll decide that high-heeled boots -were never made for walking.”</p> - -<p>It did not take Jimmy Legg that long to find it out. His left boot -rubbed a blister on his heel, and his right boot creased deeply across -his toes, adding several more blisters to his grand total. But he -gritted his teeth and said nothing.</p> - -<p>“Next time I go riding alone,” panted Jimmy, “I’m going to tie the -lead-rope around my waist. Then, if my horse throws me off and tries -to go home, he’ll have to drag me along.”</p> - -<p>“You’ve got silk socks on, haven’t you?” asked Marion. Jimmy admitted -that he had.</p> - -<p>“No good,” said Marion. “Stylish, but terrible. Wear woolen socks.”</p> - -<p>“You make me ashamed,” confessed Jimmy. “You travel along as though it -was nothing, while I’m having an awful time. All I need is a handful -of lead-pencils and I’d be a first-class cripple.”</p> - -<p>The last mile was exquisite torture, but Jimmy managed to stumble into -the patio of the Double Bar 8 and sit down on the well-curb.</p> - -<p>He took off his boots, while Marion drew a fresh bucket of water. His -feet were so swollen that he could hardly get the boots off, and his -silk socks were in shreds.</p> - -<p>He sat on the edge of the curb and soaked his feet in the cold water -of the trough, while Marion found him a pair of Buck’s socks.</p> - -<p>“Do you still think there is romance?” she asked, as he grimaced over -his blisters. He looked up at her, forgetting the pain in his feet.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said honestly. “You are the Beautiful Lady, and I am the -Knight of the Blistered Feet.” He laughed softly. “As soon as I can -get my boots on, I shall try and slay a dragon for you.”</p> - -<p>“It isn’t going to be a hard season on dragons,” smiled the girl. -“Unless all signs fail, you are going to have a hard time getting -those boots on.”</p> - -<p>There was no one else at the ranch. A mocking-bird sang from the patio -wall, and a huge pepper tree threw a shade across the two at the well.</p> - -<p>“Let’s forget about blistered feet,” said Jimmy Legg. “Tell me about -this country, Miss Taylor. I’m a tenderfoot—and, oh so tender just -now,” he laughed ruefully. “But I don’t mind. I didn’t know there were -girls like you in this country. I’ve read stories of Arizona, where -the handsome hero fought forty men, and won the heroine, who was very -beautiful. But it doesn’t seem true to me, because I haven’t seen -forty men since I came.”</p> - -<p>“And there are no beautiful heroines,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Well,” smiled Jimmy, “they didn’t have to do any heroic things. They -were merely the central figure—some one to do great things for, don’t -you see.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose so,” smiled the girl. “But forty Arizona men would be -rather a handful for one man to whip.”</p> - -<p>Jimmy nodded seriously.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I suppose a man would have to have quite an incentive.”</p> - -<p>“He might start in on one and work his way up,” said a strange voice.</p> - -<p>They turned quickly to see Tex Alden, who had come in so softly that -they did not hear him. Perhaps they were too engrossed in their own -conversation to hear him.</p> - -<p>Tex smiled at Marion, but the look he gave Jimmy was anything but -friendly.</p> - -<p>“Hello Tex,” said Marion. “We didn’t hear you ride up.”</p> - -<p>“Naturally.”</p> - -<p>Marion ignored his sarcasm.</p> - -<p>“Tex Alden, this is Mr. Legg,” she said.</p> - -<p>“From the AK,” supplemented Jimmy.</p> - -<p>“Runnin’ a dude ranch out there, are they?” Tex did not offer his hand -to Jimmy, who did not offer his.</p> - -<p>Marion explained how she had lost her horse, and of how she and Jimmy -had met in the hills. But Tex could not see any humor in the -situation. It was too much of a coincidence to suit him.</p> - -<p>“Outside of that,” he said dryly, “I’ve got some bad news for you, -Marion. Your father, Buck and Peeler are in jail at Blue Wells.”</p> - -<p>“In jail?” Marion stared at Tex. “Why, what for, Tex?”</p> - -<p>Tex shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>“Robbin’ that train, it seems.”</p> - -<p>“But they never robbed that train, Tex!”</p> - -<p>“<i>Quien sabe</i>. They’re in jail. Between the sheriff and that railroad -detective they cooked up some sort of a case against ’em. I didn’t get -all of it, but it seems that Olson, Porter and the detective, a man -named Wade, came out here to the ranch. During the conversation the -detective kicked the dog. Buck bawled him out for it, and the -detective asked Buck if it was his dog.</p> - -<p>“Buck said it was, it seems. The sheriff asked Buck how long he had -owned the dog, and Buck said he raised it. They’ve got the dog in -jail, too, holding him until they can get the engineer, fireman and -the express messenger here to identify it. From what I can hear, the -dog belonged to the bandits.”</p> - -<p>Jimmy Legg stared across the patio, his eyes smarting in the bright -sunlight.</p> - -<p>“Buck never raised that dog,” said Marion hoarsely. “It was a dog that -picked up with them—with dad, Buck and Peeler.”</p> - -<p>“How long ago?” asked Tex.</p> - -<p>“The—” Marion faltered. “It was the day after the robbery that he came -here with them, Tex. They had been back on Yellow Horn mesa, looking -for cattle. They left the day of the robbery.”</p> - -<p>“What kind of a dog was it?” asked Jimmy Legg.</p> - -<p>“Just a stray mongrel,” said Marion. “It was coarse-haired and sort of -a yellowish-red color.”</p> - -<p>There was no question in Jimmy’s mind that this dog was Geronimo.</p> - -<p>“Quite a lot of strays comin’ to this country lately,” said Tex Alden, -as he looked meaningly at Jimmy.</p> - -<p>Jimmy caught the implication, but said nothing. He did not want to -have any trouble with Tex Alden.</p> - -<p>“I suppose yore father can prove that the dog don’t belong here, can’t -he?” asked Tex.</p> - -<p>“I don’t see why not,” replied Marion quickly.</p> - -<p>“I was just wonderin’, Marion. There’s so many dogs around here that -nobody pays much attention to ’em. Anyway, the sheriff says that even -if they can prove away the dog, they’ll have to show him where they -were the night of the robbery.”</p> - -<p>“But they can’t—except their word, Tex. They were back on Yellow Horn -mesa, and no one saw them back there.”</p> - -<p>Tex smiled.</p> - -<p>“Makes it kinda tough. If yo’re aimin’ to ride to Blue Wells, I’ll -ride back with yuh.”</p> - -<p>Marion looked at Jimmy, who was sitting on the edge of the curb, his -sore feet encased in a pair of Buck’s woolen socks.</p> - -<p>“I suppose I’ll have to go,” she said slowly. “But I don’t like to -leave the ranch alone. If Mr. Legg will stay here until I get back—”</p> - -<p>“That won’t hardly do,” said Tex quickly. “You don’t know this man, -Marion. We can get some one in Blue Wells—”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t mind staying,” said Jimmy earnestly.</p> - -<p>“But you can’t stay here with a strange man.”</p> - -<p>“I meant—until I got back,” said Marion coldly. “And how long since -you started running the Double Bar 8, Tex Alden?”</p> - -<p>Tex flushed hotly.</p> - -<p>“I’m not tryin’ to run the ranch, Marion.”</p> - -<p>“Then don’t. I think Spike is around by the corral; so if you will -excuse me, I’ll get him.”</p> - -<p>Tex made no effort to get the horse for her, because he wanted a word -in private with Jimmy Legg. After she had gone out through the patio -gate, Tex turned to Jimmy.</p> - -<p>“Let me give you a word of advice, young feller. Yo’re new to this -country; so jist take my word for it that we don’t want strangers -around. You tramped in here; now tramp out. The climate of the Blue -Wells country is sure damp for yore kind.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t think I understand what you mean,” said Jimmy. “I’m not a -tramp, Mr. Alden.”</p> - -<p>“You walked into Blue Wells. Anyway, you told the sheriff yuh did. -Ain’t that trampin’?”</p> - -<p>Jimmy smiled and shook his head.</p> - -<p>“There’s a difference, I think, between a man who merely walks in, and -a man who tramps in.”</p> - -<p>“Not a —— bit of difference around here, Legg. I’ll probably ride back -with Miss Taylor; and I don’t want to find you here. If yo’re wise, -you’ll heed what I’m tellin’ yuh. I’ve give yuh a fair warnin’.”</p> - -<p>“Reminds me of what Miss Taylor said about rattlesnakes,” said Jimmy -innocently. “They nearly always buzz before they strike, it seems. She -says that is what makes them less to be feared than any other -poisonous snakes.”</p> - -<p>Tex stepped in closer to Jimmy, his eyes snapping.</p> - -<p>“Do you mean to call me a snake?”</p> - -<p>“No; only the warning. And don’t forget, you called me a tramp.”</p> - -<p>“If you wasn’t such an ignorant —— fool,” began Tex—but at that moment -Marion made her appearance leading the blue-black horse which had left -her stranded in the hills, and Tex turned to her, leaving his -statement to Jimmy unfinished.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Legg won’t be able to stay,” stated Tex. “If you’ll show him -which horse to ride back to the AK, Marion—”</p> - -<p>“I’ve changed my mind,” said Jimmy, hugging his knees. “I’m going to -stay, Miss Taylor.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, Mr. Legg.”</p> - -<p>Marion turned away to hide a smile. She realized that Tex had tried to -make Jimmy’s decision for him, and she was glad that Jimmy defied him.</p> - -<p>Tex glared at Jimmy, but said nothing. Marion waved at Jimmy from the -patio gate, but Tex did not turn his head. Marion had little to say to -Tex on the way to Blue Wells. He tried to apologize to her for what he -had said to Jimmy Legg, but she paid little attention to his excuses. -As a result, Tex rode to Blue Wells with a distinct peeve against this -stranger.</p> - -<p>He left Marion at the doorway of the sheriff’s office, and met Lee -Barnhardt a little farther up the street. The lawyer might have -ignored Tex’s presence had not Tex stepped in beside him. It was the -first time they had met since the day after the hold-up.</p> - -<p>“What do yuh know about the arrest of Taylor, Buck and the -half-breed?” asked Tex. Barnhardt glanced sidewise at Tex, and a -knowing smile twisted his lips.</p> - -<p>“I know it’s probably lucky for some folks, Tex. You see, I’ve talked -with them, and I’ll probably defend their case; so I haven’t any -information to give out.”</p> - -<p>“Yea-a-ah?”</p> - -<p>“Yea-a-ah,” Barnhardt mimicked Tex’s drawl perfectly, but the -expression in Tex’s eyes caused Barnhardt’s Adam’s-apple to jerk -convulsively. The lawyer was a physical coward, and Tex knew it; so he -grasped Barnhardt by the sleeve, whirled him around and slammed his -back against the front of the office.</p> - -<p>“—— you!” gritted Tex. “I’ve stood about all I’m goin’ to stand from -you, Lee. Yo’re as crooked as a snake in a cactus patch, and we both -know it. You told me about that Santa Rita pay-roll, because you -wanted yore share. Now, —— yuh—get it, if yuh can!”</p> - -<p>Tex stepped back, his eyes narrowed dangerously, as he looked at -Barnhardt’s thin face, which twisted to a sneering grin, when he felt -sure that Tex was not going to do him bodily harm.</p> - -<p>“All right, Tex,” he said hoarsely. “No bad feelings, I hope.”</p> - -<p>Tex shook his head slowly.</p> - -<p>“I don’t <i>sabe</i> you, Lee,” he said softly. “Mebbe some day I’m goin’ -to have to kill you.”</p> - -<p>Tex spoke in a matter-of-fact way, as though the killing of Lee -Barnhardt would be merely a disagreeable task. Barnhardt smiled -crookedly.</p> - -<p>“You don’t need to threaten me, Tex,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Oh, that’s not a threat.”</p> - -<p>Barnhardt straightened his collar.</p> - -<p>“You called me a crook,” he remarked. “You can’t prove anything, Tex; -but you embezzled eight thousand dollars—and I can prove it.”</p> - -<p>“How can yuh? You haven’t the bill of sale, nor a copy of it. You had -nothing to do with the sale. The check was made out to me.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” Barnhardt laughed shortly. “In two weeks the Fall -round-up will be held, Tex. There’s going to be a shortage of X Bar 6 -stock to account for. My report will show this, and I’ll have to -explain just what happened—unless—”</p> - -<p>“Unless what?”</p> - -<p>“Unless you shoot square with me, Tex.”</p> - -<p>“In other words,” said Tex coldly, “if I’ll play a crooked game with -you, you’ll protect me, eh?”</p> - -<p>“You don’t need to be so —— virtuous!” snapped Barnhardt. “You’re in -pretty deep already. And any time I want to, I can cut you loose from -your present job. Don’t forget that I can do you a lot of harm, if I -want to, Tex. One of these days that X Bar 6 is going to be mine.”</p> - -<p>“Yea-a-ah? How do yuh figure that, Lee?”</p> - -<p>“That’s my business. You think things over, Tex.”</p> - -<p>Tex nodded shortly.</p> - -<p>“All right. What kind of a case have they got against Taylor?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. That Wade, the railroad detective, seems to think the -dog links ’em pretty close to the case, but he’s got to wait until the -engine crew and the messenger identify the dog as being the one that -was on the express car.”</p> - -<p>“Marion says it’s a dog that picked up with them the day after the -hold-up. I don’t remember any such a dog around the Double Bar 8.”</p> - -<p>“Well, you don’t need to worry about it, do you?”</p> - -<p>“Why not? I expect to marry Taylor’s daughter.”</p> - -<p>“Well? She’s not under arrest. You better look out for Le Moyne, Tex. -He’s got the same ideas that you have, and I understand that Apostle -Paul thinks a lot of Le Moyne.”</p> - -<p>“Le Moyne don’t interest me, Lee.”</p> - -<p>“Sure he don’t. But he don’t have to interest you. Le Moyne is a -handsome devil, and if I was in your boots—”</p> - -<p>“Well, you’re not!” Tex flushed angrily. “I’ve got to help Marion find -some woman to stay at the ranch with her. She can’t stay there alone. -That —— tenderfoot from the AK was there when I left. His horse -pitched him off in the hills, and he wore his feet out walkin’ to the -Double Bar 8.”</p> - -<p>“His name is Legg, isn’t it?” queried Barnhardt.</p> - -<p>“Yeah.”</p> - -<p>“What else do you know about him, Tex?”</p> - -<p>“Not a thing—do you?”</p> - -<p>“Only what Johnny Grant said. Legg told him that he used to be a -bookkeeper in San Francisco.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah? Well, he better go back and sling some more ink.”</p> - -<p>Barnhardt smiled slowly.</p> - -<p>“And he’s staying at the Double Bar 8, is he?”</p> - -<p>“Not very —— long, he ain’t!” snapped Tex.</p> - -<p>He whirled on his heel and looked down toward the sheriff’s office, -where Marion was just coming out, accompanied by the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“How long before they can identify that dog, Lee?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“When the train gets in tonight, Tex.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh. I’ll see yuh later, Lee.”</p> - -<p>“All right; and in the meantime you better think over some of the -things I’ve told you.”</p> - -<p>But Tex did not reply. Marion had mounted her horse. Tex called to -her, but she did not reply, as she spurred her horse to a gallop, -heading toward home. Tex swore softly and went on, joining the sheriff -at the doorway of the office.</p> - -<p>“Hyah, Tex,” greeted the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“All right, Scotty,” grunted Tex. “Mind lettin’ me see the Taylor -family?”</p> - -<p>The sheriff shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Can’t do it, Tex. I’ve got my orders from the prosecutor. After -t’night, yuh maybe can; but no chance, until after we know a little -more about things.”</p> - -<p>Tex scowled heavily.</p> - -<p>“What evidence have yuh got, Scotty?”</p> - -<p>“Dog. Answers the description.”</p> - -<p>“Yea-a-ah?”</p> - -<p>Tex leaned one shoulder against the wall of the building and began -rolling a cigaret. He looked quizzically at the sheriff as he said—</p> - -<p>“Scotty, did yuh ever wonder why them three men locked yuh in yore own -jail?”</p> - -<p>The sheriff considered the question gravely, as if it had never -occurred to him before. He smiled softly and shook his head.</p> - -<p>“No; did you, Tex?”</p> - -<p>“It’s none of my business, Scotty.”</p> - -<p>“No? You don’t think Eskimo, Johnny and Oyster had anythin’ to do with -the hold-up, do yuh?”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t say they did, Scotty.”</p> - -<p>“There was four men in that hold-up. Old George Bonnette was in Blue -Wells that night. They’d ’a’ had to get an outsider to help ’em, Tex. -We’ve got to find four men.”</p> - -<p>“But there’s only three in yore jail right now, Scotty.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah; there’s still the owner of the dog.”</p> - -<p>“Then yuh don’t think the dog belongs to Taylor?”</p> - -<p>“No, I don’t. The man who owns the dog is the man who got on the -express car at Encinas, and fought with the messenger. The dog was -just a blind for that man to get on there. He was the fourth one of -the gang, and he probably didn’t figure on the messenger puttin’ up a -fight. He caught up with the express car as quick as possible and took -the dog. The fact that he took a chance to get the dog makes it look -like a cinch that if we can find the owner of that dog, we can land -the whole bunch.”</p> - -<p>It was a long explanation for Scotty Olson, and he was all out of -breath.</p> - -<p>“How about that feller Legg, at the AK, Scotty? He’d make a fourth -man.”</p> - -<p>“Him!” Scotty laughed. “Which man would he make? Not the big feller -that fought the messenger. And —— knows he ain’t one of the masked men -that blew the safe.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t be too sure. He’d look pretty —— big behind a black mask, -looking over the top of a six-gun. That engine crew was so —— scared -they wouldn’t have known whether they were big men or small ones.”</p> - -<p>“How do you know how scared they was, Tex?”</p> - -<p>The sheriff snapped the question quickly. Tex stiffened slightly and -his shoulder swayed away from the wall.</p> - -<p>“Just figurin’ ’em to be human,” he said softly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yeah.” The sheriff’s smile was hidden behind his big mustache. “I -reckon we’ll get along all right. It takes time to figure out things, -Tex. Wade’s no fool. He’s investigatin’ every clue—him and Porter. I -understand that the Santa Rita has hired a detective. Him and Le Moyne -are on the case, kinda workin’ independent of my office, I suppose.” -Scotty smiled. “But that’s all right. We want the men who got that -thirty thousand.”</p> - -<p>Tex nodded coldly.</p> - -<p>“Good luck to yuh, Scotty. But if I was you, I wouldn’t look for them -men in Blue Wells. They’re a —— of a long ways from here, I’ll -betcha.”</p> - -<p>“I’m no —— palmist,” said Scotty slowly. “If they’re out of the county -I can’t do nothin’, but if they’re around here, I’m goin’ after ’em -good and hard.”</p> - -<p>“Sure,” nodded Tex, and went after his horse, while the sheriff looked -after him quizzically.</p> - -<p>“I wonder what you know, Tex Alden,” he said to himself. “I seen yuh -talkin’ with Lee Barnhardt—and he’ll prob’ly defend Taylor, if this -comes to court. By golly, I’m gettin’ suspicious of everybody. Wade -says you’ve got to suspect everybody, if yo’re goin’ to be a -successful detective; so I expect I’m startin’ out in the right way.”</p> - -<h2>VIII—A REGULAR JOB</h2> - -<p>It was supper time at the AK ranch when Jimmy Legg rode in. The boys -had discovered his horse when they returned, and had decided that -Jimmy had been thrown. They were going to wait until after supper -before starting a search.</p> - -<p>He told them of the incident and of the long walk to the Double Bar 8 -ranch.</p> - -<p>“Didja leave that girl alone there?” asked Eskimo.</p> - -<p>“She went back to town,” explained Jimmy. “I guess she wanted to be -there when the railroad men tried to identify that dog, and she said -she’d stay in Blue Wells all night.”</p> - -<p>“I’d kinda like to be there too,” said Johnny Grant. “I’ve been at the -Taylor ranch quite a lot, but I don’t remember any dog of that -description.”</p> - -<p>“Let’s all go in after supper,” suggested Oyster. “I’ve got a few -dollars that’s restless.”</p> - -<p>Old George Bonnette called Jimmy aside after supper.</p> - -<p>“What do yuh aim to do?” asked the old man.</p> - -<p>Jimmy smiled foolishly.</p> - -<p>“I kinda wanted to be a cowpuncher,” he confessed, lapsing into the -dialect easily.</p> - -<p>“Yuh do, eh?” Bonnette smiled. “That’s quite an ambition, don’tcha -think? Forty a month, and feed. Yo’re educated, Legg. I don’t <i>sabe</i> -why yuh want to be a puncher.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve got a reason, Mr. Bonnette.”</p> - -<p>“Some girl dare yuh to be a cowboy?”</p> - -<p>“There’s a woman in the case,” confessed Jimmy.</p> - -<p>Bonnette grunted softly and helped himself to a liberal chew of -tobacco.</p> - -<p>“I thought as much,” he grinned. “Well, you ain’t—yet. I’m full-up on -hired hands right now, Legg. It’ll soon be round-up time, and yuh -might come in handy.</p> - -<p>“It’ll mean a —— of a lot of hard work. I can’t pay yuh a cowpuncher’s -wages, because yuh don’t <i>sabe</i> the work well enough to earn it; but -I’ll pay yuh half-salary. It’ll sure as —— be an education to you, if -yuh want to be a puncher. But I’m —— if I know why yuh want to.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks,” smiled Jimmy. “Johnny Grant asked you to do this, didn’t -he?”</p> - -<p>“Well, he said yuh was jist brainless enough to make a good puncher, -if that’s what yuh mean.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t cowpunchers have any brains, Mr. Bonnette?”</p> - -<p>“Huh!” The old man spat explosively. “Evidence is all agin’ ’em! If -they had any brains, they wouldn’t punch cows.”</p> - -<p>Jimmy thanked him for the half-pay job, and rode away with the three -cowpunchers, after Bonnette had warned them not to antagonize the -sheriff again.</p> - -<p>“Yo’re gettin’ a bad reputation,” declared Bonnette. “Next thing I -know I’ll have some cripples hobblin’ around here.”</p> - -<p>“We’re plumb antiseptic now,” assured Johnny Grant. “There ain’t money -enough in the crowd to start anythin’.”</p> - -<p>They headed for town, talking about the robbery. None of them had told -Jimmy about their battle with the engineer and fireman. The AK boys -were tight-mouthed over it, because they didn’t want to be hauled in -on the case, and they were just a little suspicious about Jimmy Legg.</p> - -<p>Near where the AK road paralleled the railroad, it intersected with -the road from Encinas, and as they neared the intersection they saw -two riders coming from the east, jogging along through the dust, as if -time was of no importance.</p> - -<p>The four riders from the AK drew rein and waited for the two cowboys, -thinking them to be two of the Blue Wells riders. But in this they -were mistaken, as the two riders were strangers to the country.</p> - -<p>One of them was a lean, rangy sort of individual, with a long face, -prominent nose, wide mouth, and widely spaced blue eyes, set in a mass -of tiny wrinkles. The other rider was of medium height, rather blocky -of countenance, wide-mouthed, and with deep grin-wrinkles, which -seemed to end beneath a firm jaw. His eyes were wide, blue and -innocent.</p> - -<p>Both men were dressed in range costume, well-worn, weathered. Their -riding rigs were polished from much usage, and the boys from the AK -noted that their belts and holsters were hand-made by men who knew the -sag of human anatomy. The tall man removed his battered sombrero, -disclosing a crop of roan-colored hair, and the wide grin, which -suffused his whole face, showed a set of strong, white teeth.</p> - -<p>“Howdy,” smiled the tall man. “Is this the road to Blue Wells?”</p> - -<p>“It sure is,” grinned Johnny. He instinctively liked this tall man, -whose grin was contagious.</p> - -<p>“Well, that’s good,” nodded the shorter man.</p> - -<p>Johnny Grant’s eyes had strayed to their two horses, which were -branded on the left shoulder with a Circle X, the iron of a ranch -about twelve miles east of Encinas.</p> - -<p>“We’re goin’ to Blue Wells,” said Eskimo, “and we’ll see that yuh -don’t stray.”</p> - -<p>“That’s sure kind of yuh,” said the innocent-eyed one. “You don’t know -what a load that takes off my mind.”</p> - -<p>Eskimo squinted closely at him, but could not determine whether the -man was joking or not. Johnny Grant moved his horse in closer.</p> - -<p>“My name’s Grant,” he told them.</p> - -<p>He turned in his saddle and introduced the others, concluding with -Jimmy Legg, of whom he said:</p> - -<p>“This is Jimmy Legg. He wants to be a cowpuncher so badly that he -don’t know what to do—and we’re teachin’ him.”</p> - -<p>“I’m sure he’ll make a good one,” said the innocent-eyed stranger, -sizing up the uncomfortable Jimmy. “Yuh can’t hardly tell him from one -now. If yuh hadn’t told us about him, we’d never know but what he was -a top-hand. My name is Stevens. My pardner answers to the name of -Hartley, and we’re proud to know you gents.”</p> - -<p>“Proud to know you,” nodded the boys of the AK.</p> - -<p>“We might as well mosey along,” said Johnny. “You aimin’ to stay in -Blue Wells a while, gents?”</p> - -<p>“All depends,” said “Hashknife” Hartley. “We hear that the Fall -round-up is about to start, and thought we might hook on with some -cow-outfit. We ain’t never been in here, yuh see.”</p> - -<p>“Well, yuh might,” admitted Johnny. “I dunno how the rest of the -ranches are fixed for help.”</p> - -<p>“Does anythin’ ever happen around here?” asked “Sleepy” Stevens. “You -know what I mean—any excitement?”</p> - -<p>“Everythin’ happens,” said Eskimo, and they proceeded to regale them -with a story of the robbery.</p> - -<p>Johnny Grant went into details regarding the dog, which figured in the -evidence, and by the time they got to Blue Wells, Hashknife and Sleepy -knew practically all the details, as far as was known.</p> - -<p>“We’d know more about it when the train gets in,” said Oyster. “Them -trainmen say they can identify the dog, if it’s the same one.”</p> - -<p>They rode in to Blue Wells, and tied their horses at the Oasis -hitch-rack. Hashknife and Sleepy went to the Oasis hotel, where they -secured a room, after which they took their horses to the -livery-stable.</p> - -<p>Quite a crowd of people had gathered in Blue Wells, waiting for the -train to come in. There was much speculation as to whether or not the -trainmen could identify the dog as being the one on the express car. -Tex Alden was in town, as was Le Moyne. Johnny Grant pointed out Le -Moyne, and introduced Hashknife to Tex.</p> - -<p>Hashknife did not strike Tex for a job, but merely exchanged a few -words with him. They met the sheriff in the Oasis, and Johnny -introduced him to Hashknife. But the sheriff was not friendly, and -Johnny explained the reasons why. They found Al Porter and Wade, the -railroad detective, but Porter gave Johnny a wide berth. He could see -that Johnny had imbibed a few drinks, and Mr. Porter did not want his -dignity disturbed.</p> - -<p>The train arrived on time, and the crowd repaired to the hall over Abe -Moon’s store, which was used as a courtroom. Jimmy Legg had imbibed a -large drink of liquor, which had caused him to forget certain things, -and as a result he found himself in the hall, almost rubbing shoulders -with the express messenger.</p> - -<p>The sheriff ordered every one to sit down and not to interfere with -the proceedings. He brought Apostle Paul Taylor, Buck Taylor and -Peeler into the room and seated them against the wall. The half-breed -was frightened, but the Taylor family were cool. Marion was there, and -joined her father. Hashknife and Sleepy remained in the background, -watching the proceedings.</p> - -<p>Al Porter, the deputy, brought the dog into the room, a short piece of -rope tied to its collar. It was Geronimo! Jimmy Legg gasped, drew his -hat farther over his face and acted indifferent.</p> - -<p>Geronimo apparently thought that the gathering was for his special -benefit, for he cavorted on the end of the rope, barking, whining, -sniffing. Suddenly he whirled around, headed toward Jimmy Legg, head -up, sniffing. The scent of the man who had befriended him!</p> - -<p>His sudden lunge almost yanked the rope out of Porter’s hands, and his -paws scraped across Jimmy Legg’s knees, when the angry deputy jerked -the dog back to him. Jimmy gasped with relief, looked up from under -the low-pulled brim of his hat, and found the railroad detective -looking at him.</p> - -<p>The engineer and fireman positively identified the dog. The express -messenger was not so positive, but said that it surely looked like the -same dog. Johnny Grant, with a few drinks of liquor under his belt, -walked out and took a close look at the dog.</p> - -<p>“I’ve been at the Double Bar 8 a lot of times,” he told the sheriff, -“but I never seen that dog before. I like dogs, Scotty. I never miss a -chance to play with a dog, and if that dog was a reg’lar at the Double -Bar 8, I’d shore know it.”</p> - -<p>“Buck swears he raised it from a pup,” replied the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“Buck wasn’t telling the truth,” said Marion. “He was mad at you for -kicking it, and questioning the ownership.”</p> - -<p>“When did you see it the first time, Miss Taylor?” asked the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“When it came home with dad, Buck and Peeler.”</p> - -<p>“The day after the hold-up, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>The railroad detective sauntered up.</p> - -<p>“Where did they say they got the dog, Miss Taylor?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Why, they said it picked up with them, when they were on their way -home from Yellow Horn Mesa.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff smiled and told Porter to take the dog back to the office.</p> - -<p>“I reckon we’ll hang on to the dog until we find out who owns it,” he -said.</p> - -<p>“But you can’t hold us any longer,” protested Apostle Paul.</p> - -<p>“Can’t I?”</p> - -<p>“It’s a bailable offense,” said the detective. “I suppose you’ll have -a hearing tomorrow, and have your bail set.”</p> - -<p>“And have to stay in jail tonight, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; unless the judge wants to hold a night session.”</p> - -<p>“Which he won’t,” declared Porter. “Old Judge Parkridge will take his -own sweet time—and it won’t be at night.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff removed his prisoners and the crowd filed down the stairs. -Jimmy Legg moved in beside Marion and went down to the street with -her. Most of the crowd headed for the Oasis, and Tex Alden was with -them. He stopped long enough to see that Jimmy Legg was with Marion, -but went on.</p> - -<p>“Gee, that’s a dirty shame, Miss Taylor,” said Jimmy. “They haven’t -anything on your father, nor any of the rest.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I know it, Mr. Legg; but what can we do?”</p> - -<p>“You might start in by calling me Jimmy. I hate the rest of my name. -It’s James Eaton Legg. Sounds like a cannibal, doesn’t it. Parents -never stop to think, when they’re naming innocent children.”</p> - -<p>“All right, Jimmy—if you’ll call me Marion. Every one does. We are not -formal out here in the wilderness.”</p> - -<p>“I’m glad you’re not. My feet feel fine in those socks. I’ll buy me -some tonight and give Buck a new pair.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t bother about that, Jimmy.”</p> - -<p>“No bother at all. Say, that Tex Alden don’t like me, does he?”</p> - -<p>“Possibly not.”</p> - -<p>“Does he—” Jimmy hesitated.</p> - -<p>“Does he what, Jimmy?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that’s a little too personal, Marion.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose so. You meant to ask me if Tex thought he had the right to -say who I shall speak to, didn’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Well, has he?”</p> - -<p>“Only in his own mind.”</p> - -<p>Jimmy laughed softly.</p> - -<p>“Some folks are blessed with wonderful imaginations. Are you going to -stay at the hotel tonight?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’ll stay there tonight, anyway.”</p> - -<p>They walked up the street and met Chet Le Moyne in front of Abe Moon’s -store. He shook hands with Marion, who introduced him to Jimmy.</p> - -<p>“You are paymaster of the Santa Rita mine, aren’t you?” asked Jimmy. -“I thought that’s what Johnny Grant said.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Le Moyne patronizingly. “And you are the new cowboy at the -AK ranch.”</p> - -<p>“Yea-a-ah,” drawled Jimmy. “That’s me.”</p> - -<p>Marion laughed.</p> - -<p>“He’s going to be a good one, too.”</p> - -<p>“As good as any,” laughed Jimmy.</p> - -<p>“You’ve had a good start, I hear,” chuckled Le Moyne. “They tell me -that you almost killed Scotty Olson and Lee Barnhardt the day you came -here.”</p> - -<p>“And never got arrested,” laughed Jimmy. “This is a wonderful -country.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife Hartley and Sleepy Stevens came out of the store, halted on -the edge of the sidewalk to light their cigarets, and went on across -the street.</p> - -<p>“Who are those men?” asked Marion. “I noticed the tall one looking at -me in the courtroom.”</p> - -<p>“One—the tall one—is named Hartley,” said Jimmy. “The other is -Stevens. They met us at the forks of the road this evening, and rode -in with us. They’re strangers here, it seems.”</p> - -<p>Marion and Jimmy strolled on toward the hotel and Le Moyne went to the -store. Hashknife and Sleepy mingled with the crowd in the Oasis, and -finally took seats at a table near the rear of the place. Business was -good, all the games filled, and the bar was doing a big business.</p> - -<p>The engineer, fireman and the express messenger came over to the -saloon and joined the crowd at the bar.</p> - -<p>“Plenty of excitement,” observed Hashknife. “This hold-up seems to -have kinda stirred up Blue Wells, Sleepy.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah,” Sleepy did not seem to be very enthusiastic.</p> - -<p>“Aw, shake yore hide,” grinned Hashknife. “You act like a mourner at a -funeral, cowboy.”</p> - -<p>“I’m all right,” muttered Sleepy. “But it makes me tired. Every time -we go anywhere, somethin’ happens. There’s no peace anywhere. When -them fellers was tellin’ about that hold-up, yore nose was twitchin’ -like the nose of a pointer dog. Dang it, me and you didn’t come here -to hunt bandits.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife chuckled softly.</p> - -<p>“And I’m not huntin’ ’em, Sleepy. What do yuh think of that? I ain’t -lost no bandits. It’s nothin’ to me how many pay-rolls they steal.”</p> - -<p>“Then don’t say nothin’ more about that girl, Hashknife. Ever since -you got a look at her, you’ve spoke about her several times.”</p> - -<p>“Pshaw! I didn’t realize it, Sleepy. Mebbe I just remarked about her -folks all bein’ in jail.”</p> - -<p>“Let ’em stay in jail,” grunted Sleepy heartlessly. “They prob’ly -robbed that train. We didn’t come here to—”</p> - -<p>“I know that sentence by heart, Sleepy. And you ought to know my -reply. But that don’t alter the fact that she’s one pretty girl.”</p> - -<p>“There yuh go!” gloomily.</p> - -<p>Johnny Grant had spotted them and was coming their way, slightly -unsteady on his legs, but grinning widely.</p> - -<p>“C’mon and have a drink,” he urged. “I jist runs four-bits into a -ten-spot in the black-jack game. If yuh don’t drink yuh can have a -see-gar. But I warns yuh, their see-gars are a lot older than the -liquor they sell. C’mon up to the bar and meet some of the folks.”</p> - -<p>Neither of them wanted a drink, but they did want to be friendly with -Johnny Grant and his crowd; so they elbowed their way to the bar. Ed -Gast and Bill Bailey, of the X Bar 6, were at the bar, and Johnny -introduced them, after which he deposited his money on the bar, and -demanded action.</p> - -<p>“Beatin’ that game is as easy as holdin’ up a train,” he declared, -chuckling. “Runs four-bits up to ten dollars, and sticks my thumb at -m’ nose at the dealer.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife noticed that the sheriff was at the bar, and that Johnny’s -remark interested him.</p> - -<p>“Except that yuh can’t very well lose at holdin’ up a train,” added -Eskimo Swenson, who had caught the sheriff’s reflection in the mirror. -“If yuh ever get the money in yore hands, yo’re as safe as a church. -Political affluence shore as —— don’t make a sheriff a man-catcher.”</p> - -<p>Realizing that this conversation was for his benefit, the sheriff -moved away from the bar, while the AK boys chuckled over their drinks. -Even Sleepy Stevens shed his pessimistic attitude and grinned.</p> - -<p>“These are home folks,” he said to Hashknife. “It appears that the -sheriff ain’t standin’ very well with the AK.”</p> - -<p>“Aw, he’s all right,” said Oyster. “Scotty’s as good as the average -sheriff, except that he’s too serious. He’d give his right eye for a -chance to prove first degree murder agin’ the whole AK outfit, because -we devil him. He’s—”</p> - -<p>The men at the bar jerked around when from out in the street came the -unmistakable sound of a revolver shot.</p> - -<p>“Somebody celebratin’,” decided Johnny Grant, as the sheriff and -several men moved to the doorway and went outside. They gulped their -drinks, and went out into the street, where the only lights were those -from the saloon and store windows.</p> - -<p>“Somebody tryin’ to be funny,” grumbled the sheriff.</p> - -<p>He went back into the Oasis. Some men had come from Moon’s store -across the street, evidently wondering who had fired the shot. Two men -with a lantern were fussing around a wagon in front of the blacksmith -shop. One of the men came across from the store and went into the -Oasis. It was Chet Le Moyne.</p> - -<p>“Well, I reckon it was some puncher wishful of makin’ a noise,” -decided Johnny Grant. They turned and were going back into the saloon, -when some one called from the hotel, which was across the street, and -about a block north of the Oasis.</p> - -<p>“C’mere!” yelled the man. He was evidently calling to some one in the -hotel. “Come out and help me with this feller!”</p> - -<p>“That sounds like somethin’ wrong,” said Hashknife. “Let’s go and see -what it is.”</p> - -<p>They hurried up the street and crossed to the hotel, where several men -had gathered around a man who was lying flat on the ground.</p> - -<p>“He’s been shot,” they heard one of them say. “Better pack him into -the hotel and send for a doctor.”</p> - -<p>A man scratched a match, but it flickered out. Hashknife shoved him -aside, dropped on his knees beside the man, and ignited a match, with -a snap of his thumb-nail. The illumination showed a gory face, gray as -ashes, where the blood had not stained.</p> - -<p>“My ——!” blurted Johnny. “It’s Jimmy Legg!”</p> - -<p>He dropped on his knees beside Hashknife, grasping Jimmy’s shoulders.</p> - -<p>“Hey! Jimmy!” he exclaimed.</p> - -<p>“Don’t shake him!” roared Eskimo. “You big idiot!”</p> - -<p>“Somebody go and find a doctor,” ordered Hashknife. “We’ll take him in -the hotel.”</p> - -<p>They carried him into the little hotel office, where there was light -enough for them to discover that Jimmy Legg had missed death by a very -scant margin. The bullet had struck him just above his left ear, -slanted along his skull, and had furrowed deeply for about three -inches.</p> - -<p>Some one had gone after a doctor, and in the meantime Hashknife -secured a basin of water and a towel, with which he mopped some of the -blood away.</p> - -<p>“I heard that shot,” said the proprietor of the hotel. “I thought it -was somebody just makin’ a noise. Say, I seen that young feller -talkin’ to Miss Taylor not five minutes ago. They was just outside the -door there.”</p> - -<p>“To Miss Taylor, eh?” Johnny blinked at the lamp. “Is she here now?”</p> - -<p>The commotion in the office attracted Marion’s attention, and she was -standing in the hallway door when Johnny spoke.</p> - -<p>“I’m here,” she said. “What do you want of me?”</p> - -<p>The cowboys removed their hats, as Johnny went toward her.</p> - -<p>“You was talkin’ with Jimmy Legg a few minutes ago?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Why yes.” She was unable to see the man on the floor.</p> - -<p>“Well, he got shot,” said Johnny bluntly.</p> - -<p>“Shot?” Marion jerked forward. “Did somebody—not dead?”</p> - -<p>“He ain’t badly hurt, ma’am,” said Hashknife. “The doctor will fix him -up in no time.”</p> - -<p>Marion came forward to where she could see. Her face was white and her -two hands were clenched tightly, as she looked at Jimmy Legg, -stretched on the floor.</p> - -<p>“Why, I just left him a minute or so ago,” she whispered. “Where did -it happen?”</p> - -<p>“Jist out in the street,” replied Johnny.</p> - -<p>“By ——, I want to find the jasper that shot the poor devil!”</p> - -<p>“If yuh do, don’t keep it to yourself,” growled Eskimo.</p> - -<p>Marion stopped at the desk, bracing herself with one hand.</p> - -<p>“Who would shoot him?” wondered Eskimo. “He wouldn’t hurt anybody. If -it had been one of us—”</p> - -<p>“That would be justified,” finished Johnny Grant.</p> - -<p>Jimmy Legg lifted his head and stared around, blinking his eyes.</p> - -<p>“What was it?” he whispered.</p> - -<p>“Somebody took a shot at yuh,” said Johnny quickly.</p> - -<p>Jimmy Legg felt of his head.</p> - -<p>“Hit me, didn’t they?”</p> - -<p>At this moment the doctor arrived, ordered them to carry Jimmy to a -room, and proceeded to fix up the wound. Marion insisted on helping -him, and Jimmy blinked his gratitude.</p> - -<p>“Did you see the man who shot at you?” asked Marion.</p> - -<p>“I never knew I was shot, until I woke up, Marion. You had just gone -into the hotel, and I started to cross the street, when I saw a big -flash, like an explosion. But I never heard the noise.”</p> - -<p>The doctor washed and sewed up the wound. It was a painful proceeding, -but Jimmy gritted his teeth and did not make a sound.</p> - -<p>“You better get a room here at the hotel and go to bed,” advised the -doctor. But Jimmy refused.</p> - -<p>“I’m all right,” he insisted. “It aches a little, but not enough to -put me in bed. Gee, it sure knocked me out!”</p> - -<p>“And you’re lucky to be alive,” said the doctor, packing his kit-bag. -“An inch further to the right, and you’d have no top on your head -right now.”</p> - -<p>The crowd was just outside the door, waiting for the doctor to finish, -and they crowded in, hardly giving the doctor a chance to wiggle his -way out into the hall. Jimmy held out his hand to Marion, disregarding -the clamoring cowboys.</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” he said. “It was nice of you to stay with me.”</p> - -<p>Marion colored slightly, and her reply was drowned in Johnny Grant’s -greeting.</p> - -<p>“Hyah, Topknot! Howsa head, Jimmy?”</p> - -<p>“Don’t jiggle me!” laughed Jimmy. “My face is so tight I can hardly -laugh.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t laugh,” advised Eskimo. “Now who do yuh know that might hate -yuh enough to shoot yuh, Jimmy?”</p> - -<p>Jimmy frowned painfully at the floor, and when he looked up he caught -Marion’s eye. Tex Alden’s threat came back to him—</p> - -<p>“The Blue Wells country is sure damp for your kind.”</p> - -<p>Jimmy tried to smile, but it was only a grimace.</p> - -<p>“I dunno,” he said slowly. “I haven’t had any trouble with any one -here, except that day I accidently shot at the sheriff and the -lawyer.”</p> - -<p>“But that was an accident,” said Johnny. “Nobody blames yuh for that. -Somebody wanted to kill yuh, kid.”</p> - -<p>“Maybe,” faltered Jimmy, “they mistook me for somebody else.”</p> - -<p>As Jimmy spoke he was looking at Marion, and he switched his eyes to -Hashknife, who was watching him closely. The eyes of the tall cowboy -seemed to bore into him, and Jimmy turned away.</p> - -<p>“You was talkin’ with Miss Taylor just a minute or so before yuh got -shot, eh?” Oyster Shell had an idea.</p> - -<p>“Yes,”</p> - -<p>“Uh-hah!”</p> - -<p>“What’s that got to do with it?” demanded Johnny.</p> - -<p>“Aw, let’s go and get a drink,” suggested Oyster. “Jimmy is all right. -How about yuh, Jimmy?”</p> - -<p>“I’m fine,” replied Jimmy. “Except that my feet don’t track and -there’s a ton of rocks on my head—I’m as good as ever.”</p> - -<p>They moved out of the hotel and headed for the Oasis, where Jimmy was -the center of attraction. Le Moyne and Dug Haley were there. Johnny -introduced them to Hashknife and Sleepy, and they all drank to the -poor aim of some bushwhacker.</p> - -<p>After a few more drinks the AK boys decided to go home. Jimmy’s head -was bothering him, and Johnny Grant decided that a bunk was the best -place for Jimmy Legg. Before they left, the sheriff and deputy bustled -in, having just heard of the shooting, and wanted a detailed account -of it.</p> - -<p>“Aw, whatsa use?” wailed Eskimo. “Somebody popped Jimmy on the head -with a bullet, and that’s all there is to it. Unless petrification -sets in, he’ll be able to fall off a horse agin’ tomorrow—as usual. -C’mon.”</p> - -<p>And the sheriff was obliged to get his information from those who knew -as much about it as the AK boys did. He went back to his office with -Al Porter, and they sat down to discuss it.</p> - -<p>“Well, who do yuh think tried to kill the tenderfoot?” queried Porter.</p> - -<p>“If we didn’t have three men in jail, facin’ a charge of holdin’ up a -train, I’d say that this here Legg person was the fourth one of the -gang, and that some of ’em tried to bump him off for somethin’.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ll be ——!” snorted Porter. “If we can’t hang it on to the -Taylor gang, that might be worth workin’ on, Scotty. But who are these -two strange cowpunchers who rode in with the AK gang tonight? Johnny -Grant acts kinda friendly with ’em.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know, Al. I reckon I’ll hit the hay. Tomorrow we hold a -hearin’ for the Taylor gang, and we’ll see what we’ll see. You better -feed that —— dog before yuh go to bed, or he might mistake old Judge -Parkridge for a strip of jerky. —— knows, he looks like one.”</p> - -<h2>IX—COMPLICATIONS</h2> - -<p>The Taylor hearing was more or less of a farce, but it left Apostle -Paul, Buck and Peeler, the half-breed, high and dry in the Blue Wells -jail until the next term of court. Old Judge Parkridge, near-sighted, -more than slightly deaf, a mummified old jurist, set their bail at one -thousand dollars cash, each—bail which no one would furnish.</p> - -<p>There was no evidence against them, except the fact that they had the -dog, and that they could not prove that they had spent the night on -Yellow Horn Mesa. So they were formally charged with train robbery and -held until the next session of court, which would not be held for -three weeks.</p> - -<p>Apostle Paul Taylor cursed the judge, who could not hear it, and went -back to the jail, followed by Buck and Peeler. Marion was -broken-hearted, but did not show it. She sat down in the sheriff’s -office and tried to reason out just what to do. The Double Bar 8 could -not afford to hire men, and she could not do the work alone.</p> - -<p>The sheriff did not try to solace her. He was tongue-tied in her -presence. Then Tex Alden showed up. He had not been at the hearing, -but had been told all about it.</p> - -<p>“That’s sure tough, Marion,” he told her. “I’ll tell yuh what I’ll -do—I’ll send some of my men down to run the ranch for yuh, and it -won’t cost yuh a cent.”</p> - -<p>“No, thank you, Mr. Alden.”</p> - -<p>Tex colored quickly. It was the first time she had ever called him -“Mr. Alden.”</p> - -<p>“Why, what’s the matter?” he asked quickly. “What have I done?”</p> - -<p>“You know what you did,” she retorted. “Please don’t bother yourself -about my affairs.”</p> - -<p>Tex stared at her wonderingly.</p> - -<p>“Well, for gosh sake!” he blurted. “Hm-m-m-m! Whatsa matter now?”</p> - -<p>But Marion turned away from him and stared out through one of the -dirty windows. Tex whistled softly and walked outside. He stopped, -turned, as if to go back, but changed his mind and went on up the -street, whistling unmusically between his teeth, his brow furrowed.</p> - -<p>Lee Barnhardt, the lawyer, was coming from his office, and met Tex in -front of the general store.</p> - -<p>“Wasn’t that a —— of a verdict, Tex?” he asked</p> - -<p>“Verdict? Oh, yeah.” Tex looked thoughtfully at the lean-faced -attorney. “I’m wonderin’ who’ll run the Double Bar 8 until after the -trial, Lee?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know; never thought about it, Tex. Say, did you hear about -that AK tenderfoot getting shot last night?”</p> - -<p>“Legg?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Some one shot him last night, almost in front of the hotel.”</p> - -<p>“Yea-a-ah? Kill him?”</p> - -<p>“No,” Barnhardt laughed. “Skull was too hard, I guess. He had been -standing there, talking with Marion Taylor, and just after she went -into the hotel, some one shot him. But he was able to ride back to the -AK; so I guess he’s all right.”</p> - -<p>Tex took a deep breath and looked back toward the sheriff’s office. -Marion was coming up the street. He turned to Barnhardt.</p> - -<p>“I hadn’t heard about it, Lee. I left just after the trainmen had -identified the dog.” Tex turned on his heel and went across the -street, disappearing in the Oasis saloon.</p> - -<p>Marion joined Barnhardt and they walked to his office. The girl did -not like Barnhardt, but her father had engaged him to handle their -defense. Hashknife and Sleepy had talked with several of the cowboys, -and it was their opinion that none of the cattle outfits would put on -extra men until the round-up.</p> - -<p>Hashknife went to the sheriff’s office and had a talk with Scotty -Olson. Hashknife had heard the cowboys talking about the Double Bar 8, -and the fact that there was no one, except the girl, to run the ranch. -Hashknife explained to the sheriff that he and Sleepy would be willing -to run the Double Bar 8, at least until the round-up started, and -without wages.</p> - -<p>“What’s the idea?” queried Scotty. It looked fishy to him.</p> - -<p>“Merely helpin’ out,” smiled Hashknife. “It’ll save us a hotel bill, -and we might as well be workin’ as settin’ around a saloon.” Scotty -smoothed his mustaches and admitted that it would be a great help to -the Taylor family.</p> - -<p>“C’mon in and meet Apostle Paul,” suggested the sheriff.</p> - -<p>Hashknife followed him to the cells and was introduced to Marion’s -father, who scrutinized Hashknife closely, when the sheriff explained -what Hartley and his partner were willing to do.</p> - -<p>“I thought mebbe Tex Alden would help us out,” said the old man.</p> - -<p>“Yuh can hang that idea up in the smokehouse,” said the sheriff. “Tex -met yore daughter a while ago, and she kinda snubbed him up real -short, Paul.”</p> - -<p>“Yea-a-ah? Well, I’ll be ——! See if yuh can get holt of her, Scotty.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff left Hashknife with Taylor, while he found Marion. The old -man had little to say to Hashknife, and the conversation dragged -heavily until the sheriff brought her in and introduced her to -Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Did Tex offer to help us out?” asked Taylor.</p> - -<p>Marion nodded quickly.</p> - -<p>“He did; and I refused his offer. And he knows why I refused it, Dad.”</p> - -<p>“Gosh a’mighty—why?”</p> - -<p>“I can’t tell you now.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh. Well, I jist wanted to know if he did. Mr. Hartley and his -pardner offer to help yuh run the ranch at least until the round-up -starts, and it shore looks generous—comin’ from strangers.”</p> - -<p>“It certainly is generous!” exclaimed Marion. “Dad, I think I can get -Nanah to stay with me.”</p> - -<p>“That’ll be fine. I’m much obliged to yuh, Hartley, and I’ll not be -forgettin’ this favor. We’re shore up agin’ a hard deal. How soon can -yuh go out to the ranch?”</p> - -<p>“I broke a State record on saddlin’ a bronc once,” grinned Hashknife. -“Our animals are in the livery-stable, and I know Sleepy is plumb -willin’ to give up that bed at the hotel.”</p> - -<p>“Then we’ll all ride out together,” said Marion. “My horse is there -too.” Hashknife found Sleepy at Moon’s store and introduced him to -Marion. Lee Barnhardt was there, and heard Hashknife explain to Sleepy -that they were going to run the Double Bar 8. The lean-necked lawyer’s -brows elevated momentarily, and he wondered why Tex Alden hadn’t -handled that end of the deal.</p> - -<p>Sleepy went with Marion to get the horses, while Hashknife secured -paper and envelopes from Moon, and wrote a letter. Lee Barnhardt sat -on a counter across the room, and wondered who this tall cowboy might -be. Lee did not believe in philanthropy, and he wondered just why -these two cowboys should offer to work the Double Bar 8 for nothing. -He watched Hashknife, who hunched over the counter, taking much time -over the composition of his letter.</p> - -<p>Lee moved over to that counter and bought some tobacco he did not -need. Hashknife sealed the letter and began directing the envelope. -Lee walked slowly past him, getting a flash of the address on the -letter, which was directed to Leesom & Brand, Attorneys at Law, -Chicago.</p> - -<p>If Lee Barnhardt expected to find any clue to Hashknife’s identity, he -could hardly find it in the address of a letter, but he smiled queerly -as he walked to his office and sat down, twiddling his thumbs.</p> - -<p>But it was not a pleasant smile, and his head sunk into his collar -until the wattles of his wry-neck protruded. For about ten minutes he -sat thus, totally absorbed in his own thoughts, which were finally -broken by the entrance of Tex Alden, who had been depleting the stock -of the Oasis saloon until he fairly reeked with alcoholic fumes.</p> - -<p>“What do you know about them two fellers goin’ out to the Taylor -ranch?” he demanded of Barnhardt.</p> - -<p>“Eh?” Lee looked up quickly. “Oh, yes. What about ’em?”</p> - -<p>“That’s what I want to know, by ——!”</p> - -<p>“You’re sore about something, ain’t you, Tex?”</p> - -<p>“Yo’re —— right I am! Who authorized them two punchers to run that -place?”</p> - -<p>“Well, I didn’t. It wasn’t any of my business. Tex, you don’t need to -get drunk and come roaring into my office. I never sent them out -there. It seems to me that Miss Taylor was perfectly willing to have -them go out there. And they talked with old Apostle Paul. Don’t hop -me; hop them.”</p> - -<p>“Hop, ——!” Tex leaned on the desk and glared at Barnhardt.</p> - -<p>“Go to it, Tex. Hop anything you want to, but leave me out. Did you -offer to run the ranch for her?”</p> - -<p>“I did, —— it!”</p> - -<p>Lee smiled at Tex’s flushed face.</p> - -<p>“What did she say?”</p> - -<p>“None of yore —— business!”</p> - -<p>“Mm-m-m-m! Must have been a good reason.”</p> - -<p>“Who are these strange punchers?”</p> - -<p>Lee shook his head.</p> - -<p>“How would I know? They’re going to run the Double Bar 8 for nothing. -Rather charitable for a pair of strangers, don’t you think, Tex?”</p> - -<p>“Too —— charitable.”</p> - -<p>“That’s my opinion. But I don’t know a thing against ’em.”</p> - -<p>“Know anythin’ for ’em?” bluntly.</p> - -<p>“Not a thing, Tex. Marion is a mighty pretty girl, and—”</p> - -<p>“Drop that!” snapped Tex angrily. “Leave her out of it.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, all right. But she didn’t talk as though she hated either of -them. I heard her talking to them in Moon’s store a while ago.”</p> - -<p>Tex’s black eyes snapped angrily.</p> - -<p>“I want to know a few things,” he said evenly. “I’m no —— fool!”</p> - -<p>“Well, you’ll not find out anything from me, because I don’t know -anything to tell you, Tex. I’m no judge of human nature, but I’d go -easy with those two men. I don’t think you can scare ’em. They’ve -probably got a reason for running the Taylor ranch—for nothing.”</p> - -<p>“They can’t scare me, by ——!”</p> - -<p>“They probably won’t try,” smiled Barnhardt. “Anyway, they have no -reason for trying to scare you. Tex, does their names mean anything to -you?”</p> - -<p>“Their names? Hartley and Stevens? Not a —— thing.”</p> - -<p>“Ask Plenty Goode about it?”</p> - -<p>“What would he know about ’em, Lee?”</p> - -<p>“Do you remember one night out at the X Bar 6, just after Goode had -hired out to you, and I was there? We were talking about rustlers and -horse-thieves, and Goode told us some of the things that happened in -the Modoc country. He lived at Black Wells, I believe. Don’t you -remember the names now, Tex?”</p> - -<p>“Lee, I believe yo’re right. What was it he called the tall one?”</p> - -<p>“Hashknife.”</p> - -<p>“That was it! But are these the same men, Lee?”</p> - -<p>“I heard the tall one called by that name a while ago.”</p> - -<p>“Huh! What do yuh reckon they’re doin’ over here?”</p> - -<p>Lee smiled crookedly.</p> - -<p>“I dunno, Tex; but it has probably got something to do with the train -robbery. And if I had held up that train, I’d sure hate to have these -men on my trail. Ask Goode more about them, Tex.”</p> - -<p>Tex nodded slowly, thoughtfully. Suddenly he jerked ahead, his eyes -boring into Barnhardt.</p> - -<p>“Why should I worry about ’em? They can’t hang anythin’ on to me, by -——!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, all right,” sighed Lee. “I know I’d like to have that eight -thousand dollars back from you. You better give it to me pretty quick, -because I can’t cover it up very long.”</p> - -<p>“Why can’t yuh? The round-up count can be long. You handle all the -business for the X Bar 6, and you can add those cattle to your report. -They don’t know the sale was made.”</p> - -<p>“Compound a felony, eh? Turn crook for you, Tex?”</p> - -<p>“Turn ——! Listen, Lee.” Tex leaned across the desk and poked a finger -at Lee’s nose. “Yo’re as crooked as a snake in a cactus patch. You’d -double-cross yore best friend for a dollar. Don’t swaller so hard! I -mean what I’m tellin’ yuh. You told me about that Santa Rita pay-roll, -because you wanted yore cut out of it, and yo’re sore because yuh -didn’t get it.</p> - -<p>“I haven’t any eight thousand dollars —— yuh; I ain’t got no way to -get eight thousand dollars. And what’s more, I don’t think I’d give it -to yuh if I had it. Now, roll that up in some tar-paper and smoke it. -Any old time you start playin’ saint to my sins, yo’re goin’ to get in -wrong. Now, think it over.”</p> - -<p>Tex surged away from the desk, and went out, scraping his spurs -angrily, while Lee Barnhardt looked after him, gloomy-eyed, his lips -compressed tightly. Finally he sighed and shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Lee, your sins are finding you out,” he said softly. “That poor fool -is trying to bluff you—and he almost did.”</p> - -<h2>X—HASHKNIFE AND SLEEPY, PHILANTHROPISTS</h2> - -<p>“This old place is sure pleasin’ to the naked eye,” said Hashknife the -following morning, while Sleepy washed his face noisily at the old -wash-bench near the kitchen door. “I like this old patio, Sleepy. Them -walls were sure built to ward off bullets.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, and we’re in a peaceable neighborhood,” grunted Sleepy, his -eyes shut against the sting of soap-suds, while he pawed awkwardly -along the wall, trying to locate the towel, which Hashknife had deftly -removed.</p> - -<p>“Where’s that —— towel!” he roared. “Gimme that, before I scalp yuh. -Dang yuh, Hashknife, you’ve got a —— of an idea of humor. Ow-w-w-w! -Please! My ——, if I ever git m’ eyes open ag’in, I’ll scalp yuh.”</p> - -<p>Sleepy danced violently, his dripping hands held at right angles to -his body.</p> - -<p>“Whatsa idea of the ghost-dance?” queried Hashknife soberly. “The -towel is there on the wash-bench, where yuh left it.”</p> - -<p>This was palpably a falsehood, but Sleepy pawed his way to the bench, -found the towel, and wiped his burning eyes.</p> - -<p>“You hadn’t ought to use laundry soap in yore eyes,” said Hashknife -reprovingly. “Whatcha cryin’ about?”</p> - -<p>“You stole that towel! Yeah, yuh did! Oh, well!” Sleepy shrugged his -shoulders. “A feller that ain’t got no more sense than to throw in -with a danged—”</p> - -<p>“Halt!” snorted Hashknife. “Say it, and I’ll wash out yore mouth, -Sleepy.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yuh will!” Sleepy glared at Hashknife, who was in line with the -kitchen door, where Marion stood, laughing.</p> - -<p>“Ex-cuse me, Miss Taylor,” said Sleepy. “If you’d lived with -Hashknife—uh—I mean, if you—” Sleepy floundered and wiped his eyes.</p> - -<p>“You’ll excuse him, Miss Taylor,” said Hashknife seriously. “He ain’t -very bright. Ever once in a while he gets a dirty look in his eyes, -and has to wash ’em out, yuh see. As a friend he’s all right, but when -yuh want mental companionship, I’d as soon have that burro yuh call -Apollo.”</p> - -<p>Marion laughed, and invited them in to breakfast. She introduced them -to Nanah, a portly Indian woman, whom Sleepy dubbed “Carrie Nation,” -because she held a hatchet in her left hand, while she shook hands -with the other.</p> - -<p>“She’s related to Peeler,” explained Marion.</p> - -<p>“Relate by marriage,” said Nanah solemnly, as if to amend Marion’s -statement.</p> - -<p>“Nephew?” asked Hashknife, helping himself to a stack of hot-cakes.</p> - -<p>“Son,” said Nanah seriously.</p> - -<p>“Relate by marriage!” exploded Sleepy.</p> - -<p>Nanah did not smile. She spilled more batter on the griddle, examined -the pitcher closely, as she glanced at Hashknife’s plate, possibly -fearing she had underestimated their hot-cake ability, and said:</p> - -<p>“Somebody say Peeler rob train. —— lie! Too lazy.”</p> - -<p>“And that’s the most perfect alibi I ever heard,” laughed Hashknife. -“Nanah, I’ll bet any jury in Blue Wells would turn him loose on that -kind of evidence.”</p> - -<p>“What do you think of the case?” asked Marion.</p> - -<p>Hashknife shook his head.</p> - -<p>“I dunno, Miss Taylor. It kinda looks to me as though the sheriff had -kinda gone off half-cocked. That old judge ought to be restin’ in a -cemetery. I dunno how any community could stand for an old mummy like -him. He ain’t human. There ain’t nothin’ against ’em, except that -darned dog, and the fact they were not home that night.”</p> - -<p>“But they surely couldn’t convict on that evidence.”</p> - -<p>“Mm-m-m-m-m!” Hashknife masticated thoughtfully. “I dunno. I’ve seen -queer things happen. I ’member a case where one man was suin’ another -for stealin’ his wife, and the cow-jury brought in a verdict of -manslaughter against the prosecutin’ attorney.”</p> - -<p>“A-a-a-aw, don’t lie like that!” protested Sleepy. “You never seen -nothin’ of the kind.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ve seen things just about as bad. I don’t trust humanity—not -cow-jury humanity. If I was goin’ to win that case, I’d do it out of -court, Miss Taylor.”</p> - -<p>“But how could that be done?” asked Marion eagerly.</p> - -<p>“Find the men that done the job.”</p> - -<p>“An easy thing to think about,” observed Sleepy, leaning back to let -Nanah slide a pile of hot-cakes on his plate.</p> - -<p>“But the sheriff won’t do anything now,” said Marion. “He feels that -he has done his duty.”</p> - -<p>“Prob’ly a good thing he won’t,” grinned Hashknife. “Any man that -wears a mustache like Olson does, couldn’t find his own socks inside -his boots. That man has all gone to hair.”</p> - -<p>“Samson wore long hair,” reminded Sleepy. “He was strong.”</p> - -<p>“Strong—yea-a-ah! But did he have any brains? He didn’t. If he had any -brains he wouldn’t have let that woman monkey around him with a pair -of shears. Just to prove that he was thick—he slept through the -hair-cuttin’. Can yuh imagine that?”</p> - -<p>“I think Wade, the railroad detective, was more responsible for the -arrests than Olson was,” said Marion.</p> - -<p>“I’ve seen him,” nodded Hashknife. “He’s one of them kinda jiggers -that don’t care whether he gets the guilty man or not, just so he gets -somebody. That feller used to be a policeman in Los Angeles. They take -the uniform off a policeman—and he’s a detective.</p> - -<p>“Do yuh know that the idea of numberin’ houses in a city was started -by a police department? It was. Their officers was always gettin’ into -the wrong houses; so they numbered ’em. Nanah, you make gosh-awful -good hot-cakes. Yuh do so. You Navajo?”</p> - -<p>Nanah nodded quickly.</p> - -<p>“Do you speak Navajo?” asked Marion.</p> - -<p>Hashknife shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Nope. Speak a little Nez Perce, Flat-head, Sioux, English and -Profane. Yuh have to wear a rag around yore head to learn Navajo.”</p> - -<p>“And pack a snake around in yore teeth,” added Sleepy.</p> - -<p>Marion laughed at the expression of Nanah’s face.</p> - -<p>“I not bite snake,” declared the squaw seriously.</p> - -<p>“That’s right,” said Hashknife. “Don’t-cha do it, Nanah.”</p> - -<p>They shoved back from the table and rolled cigarets, while Nanah and -Marion cleared away the dishes.</p> - -<p>“If you were going to try and find the men who held up that -train—where would you look?” asked Marion.</p> - -<p>Hashknife smiled over his cigaret.</p> - -<p>“That’s hard to say. I’d have to do a little addition, subtraction and -division. Didja ever get far enough in school to work on problems -where they let X equal the missin’ numbers?”</p> - -<p>Marion smiled.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I have, Mr. Hartley.”</p> - -<p>“Well, then, don’t call me mister. My name’s Hashknife. Now that yuh -know me well enough to call me Hashknife, I’d say that I’d let about -four X’s equal the missin’ bandits, and work out the problem from -there. We’ve got the dog. Workin’ backwards from a dog, yuh ought to -get quite a lot.</p> - -<p>“In the beginning I’d like to ask yuh what yuh know about a feller who -is workin’ for the AK outfit who is named Jimmy Legg.”</p> - -<p>“James Eaton Legg,” said Marion solemnly. “He said it sounded like a -cannibal. I don’t know a thing about him, except that he came to Blue -Wells the night of the robbery. Johnny Grant took a liking to him, and -took him out to the AK, where he’s been falling off horses ever since. -He says he’s going to learn to be a cowboy, if he lives long -enough—and that’s all I know about him.”</p> - -<p>“Not much,” mused Hashknife. “Nice boy?”</p> - -<p>“Certainly he’s nice,” said Marion, without hesitation.</p> - -<p>“I s’pose so,” smiled Hashknife. “Bein’ as yo’re the boss of this -outfit, suppose yuh tell us what yuh want done today.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” she confessed. “Suppose you spend the day in getting -used to the place.”</p> - -<p>“All right. Mebbe we’ll corral a few horses and look ’em over. If we -handle the round-up for the Double Bar 8, we’re goin’ to need a -remuda.”</p> - -<p>“Sure. Suppose you ride back to Blue Wells some time today and bring -back the three that are in the livery-stable. We forgot them.”</p> - -<p>“That’s right. How about the chuck-wagon?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I forgot about that. We have always used the X Bar 6 outfit -wagons. Tex Alden has always insisted that our outfit was too small to -run their own chuck-wagon. But this year—”</p> - -<p>Marion’s pause was significant. Hashknife realized that everything was -not right between the Taylor family and Alden.</p> - -<p>“He didn’t invite yuh to share his chuck, eh?”</p> - -<p>Marion shook her head slowly.</p> - -<p>“I guess we’ll get along all right.”</p> - -<p>“Y’betcha,” warmly. “We’ll kinda look things over, Miss Taylor.”</p> - -<p>“And now that we’re well enough acquainted for you to call me Marion—”</p> - -<p>“Oh, all right,” laughed Hashknife.</p> - -<p>He joined Sleepy in the patio, and they inspected the stables and -corrals, with Apollo following them like a dog, trying to nip the -brims of their hats.</p> - -<p>It was possibly half an hour later that Lee Barnhardt rode in at the -ranch, and the Blue Wells attorney was a sight for sore eyes. His -mount was a sway-backed sorrel, with a long neck and a whispy tail. -Barnhardt did not wear chaps, and the action of the horse had wrinkled -his trousers, until the bottoms were up to his knees, showing an -expanse of skinny leg and a pair of mismated socks. On his head he -wore a sombrero, which was too small for him, and a flannel shirt, so -large around the neck that one could easily catch a glimpse of his -collar-bone.</p> - -<p>He nodded pleasantly to Hashknife and Sleepy and dismounted, allowing -his trousers to resume a normal attitude toward his legs.</p> - -<p>“I just rode out to see how things were going,” he explained. “I spoke -to Mr. Taylor about it.”</p> - -<p>“Well, yuh don’t need to apologize,” grinned Hashknife. “Of course yuh -got here pretty early in the mornin’ to find anythin’ goin’ on. That’s -quite a bronc you’ve got.”</p> - -<p>“Yes; he’s all right. Not much for looks, but reliable. Is Miss Taylor -at home?”</p> - -<p>“I think you’ll find her in the house.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you.”</p> - -<p>Barnhardt dusted off his clothes, with a flap of his hands, and headed -toward the house, while Hashknife and Sleepy grinned at each other.</p> - -<p>“That,” said Hashknife seriously, “is the attorney.”</p> - -<p>“I’m disappointed,” said Sleepy seriously.</p> - -<p>“Yuh don’t need to be, Sleepy. Hello! Here comes the next chapter.”</p> - -<p>Jimmy Legg had arrived at the Double Bar 8, with his head swathed in -bandages, his sombrero cocked at an angle. He slid out of his saddle, -hitched up his belt and gazed soberly at the two cowboys.</p> - -<p>“Hello,” he said.</p> - -<p>“How’s the head?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Gee, it sure was sore this morning. I didn’t sleep much last night. I -guess I was scared,” Jimmy grinned widely. “Got to thinking how close -I came to getting me a harp. Honest, it was an awful dream. You see, -I’m not musical at all.”</p> - -<p>The two cowboys grinned with Jimmy. He looked at the lawyer’s horse -quizzically.</p> - -<p>“Who rides that thing?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“An attorney from Blue Wells,” said Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Lee Barnhardt? Well,” Jimmy hitched up his belt, “it looks like -him. They’ve both got the same shape neck.”</p> - -<p>“Yuh hadn’t ought to make fun of a horse,” said Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“No, I suppose not. Really, I shouldn’t make fun of anybody. I ought -to put in most of my time being thankful I’m alive. I am, too. I’ve -got to go and have the doctor dress my head, but I thought I’d stop -and see Miss Taylor. She’s going to need some help around here, and I -thought I’d offer my services. The AK really don’t need me.”</p> - -<p>“What can you do?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>Jimmy shuffled his feet.</p> - -<p>“Well,” he said slowly, “I really don’t know. Unless, of course, she -has some horses that need to have some one fall off them. Johnny Grant -says I’m the best he has ever seen. He says if you’re a champion rider -there’s always a dispute over it. But if you’re a champion faller-off, -you’ve got a cinch title.”</p> - -<p>The two cowboys laughed at Jimmy, or rather, with him.</p> - -<p>“Can yuh handle a rope?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Not on a horse. There’s too many things to remember. I always fell -off, trying to keep from tripping my own horse. On the ground, I’m -pretty good. Eskimo says I can heat a branding-iron handle hotter than -anybody he ever seen. And that about lets me out, I guess.”</p> - -<p>“Well, yo’re honest about it, anyway,” laughed Sleepy. “If yuh live -long enough, you’ll prob’ly be a top-hand about the time they stop -raisin’ cattle and start on sugar-beets.”</p> - -<p>“I’d have an even chance with the rest of the cowboys at raising -sugar-beets, I suppose.”</p> - -<p>“You sure are an optimist, pardner,” laughed Hashknife. “I hope Miss -Taylor can use yuh. We need an optimist around us.”</p> - -<p>“Fine,” grinned Jimmy. “And I’d learn just as much about being a -cowboy.”</p> - -<p>“And maybe live longer,” said Sleepy. “Things that might make others -shoot— make us laugh. You better tie up yore bronc.”</p> - -<p>Jimmy tied his horse to a ring in the patio wall, and they went inside -the patio, where they found Marion and Barnhardt. She shook hands with -Jimmy, who protested that he was better than he ever was. Barnhardt -looked him over coldly, but no one bothered to introduce them.</p> - -<p>“I’m looking for a job,” laughed Jimmy. “I told Mr. Bonnette that I -was going to offer my services to you, and he said it would be all -right with him. He was very nice about it.”</p> - -<p>“He knows the salary,” said Hashknife. “We split it three ways.”</p> - -<p>“Well, that’s mighty nice of you, Jimmy,” said Marion.</p> - -<p>“Don’t mention it, Marion.”</p> - -<p>Barnhardt cleared his throat raspingly. He wanted to voice an -objection, but had none. Hashknife’s eyes were smiling, but his mouth -was serious, as he watched the lawyer’s face.</p> - -<p>“I think we are being well taken care of, Mr. Barnhardt,” said Marion, -her eyes dancing.</p> - -<p>“Oh, hu—er—yes, indeed.” Barnhardt mopped his face with a silk -handkerchief. “Very, very well, Miss Taylor. I—I guess I will be going -along.”</p> - -<p>“Come again,” said Hashknife cordially. Barnhardt flashed a glance at -him, as he held out his hand to Marion.</p> - -<p>They walked to the patio gate and watched Barnhardt ride away, sitting -stiffly in his saddle, his horse trotting, every jerk of which drew -Barnhardt’s trousers up nearer his knees, and caused his ill-fitting -sombrero to shift from side to side.</p> - -<p>“Looks like the joker in a deck of playin’-cards,” observed Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“He means well, I think,” said Marion, as they turned back.</p> - -<p>“Means well to Lee Barnhardt,” smiled Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“I don’t like him,” said Jimmy. “Oh, it isn’t because of anything he -has ever done to me,” he hastened to say. “But it is just something -about him that—well, I don’t like him.”</p> - -<p>“Shall we show our new member to the bunk-house?” asked Hashknife. “I -like him a lot better, since I’ve heard he don’t like lawyers.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, my remark does not cover the entire profession,” said Jimmy -quickly.</p> - -<p>Marion laughed and went into the house, while Hashknife and Sleepy -introduced Jimmy to the bunk-house. They sat down and rolled cigarets. -Jimmy was not very adept, but he managed to make his own smoke.</p> - -<p>“You know Miss Taylor pretty well, don’tcha?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>Jimmy colored quickly.</p> - -<p>“Well, not awful well.”</p> - -<p>“Well enough to call her Marion.”</p> - -<p>“She asked me to call her that. But that’s all right, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“It’s all right with me. But it got under the hide of that lawyer.”</p> - -<p>“It’s none of his business.”</p> - -<p>“No-o-o, I suppose not, Jimmy. Have you any idea who shot yuh?”</p> - -<p>Jimmy started to speak, changed his mind, and shook his head.</p> - -<p>“I heard,” said Hashknife slowly, “that two prominent young men in -this community had declared their intentions of marryin’ this young -lady.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I know that,” said Jimmy quickly. “Tex Alden and Chet Le Moyne. -But that doesn’t make any difference to me.”</p> - -<p>“I see,” Hashknife grinned widely. “You’ll make it a three-cornered -affair, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Not at all. You see, I—I hardly know the lady. She was nice to me, -and I appreciate it. But I never said I wanted to marry her.”</p> - -<p>“You’ve met Chet Le Moyne?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’ve met him. We were introduced at the Oasis saloon.”</p> - -<p>“Where did you meet Tex Alden?”</p> - -<p>“I never was introduced to him, but I—I talked to him here.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah? And he told yuh to keep away, didn’t he?”</p> - -<p>Jimmy looked at Hashknife in amazement.</p> - -<p>“Why, how did you know that?”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t,” smiled Hashknife. “I knew you’d correct me, if I was -wrong.”</p> - -<p>Jimmy rubbed his nose and grinned foolishly.</p> - -<p>“That’s one way of finding out, I suppose. Yes, he did tell me to keep -away from here.”</p> - -<p>“And that night you got shot.”</p> - -<p>“Gee! Do you think he shot me?”</p> - -<p>Hashknife smiled softly over the manufacture of another cigaret, but -did not answer.</p> - -<p>“What do you think I ought to do?” queried Jimmy.</p> - -<p>“Just forget it,” replied Hashknife. “You don’t know anything about -it, Jimmy.”</p> - -<p>“I know, but—” Jimmy hesitated awkwardly. “But he—whoever fired that -shot—wanted to kill me, didn’t they? Don’t you suppose they’ll try -again?”</p> - -<p>“Undoubtedly.”</p> - -<p>“Gee, that puts me in a fine position!”</p> - -<p>“Yea-a-ah, it does. You ought to grab a train and high-tail it out of -this country.”</p> - -<p>Jimmy thought it over seriously, the smoke from his cigaret drifting -up into his eyes.</p> - -<p>“No,” he said finally, “I won’t go. I’ve never injured any one, and -I’m not going to run away.”</p> - -<p>“And take chances on bein’ killed?”</p> - -<p>Jimmy nodded.</p> - -<p>“Yes; it’s all right. I might be lucky.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife held out his hand to Jimmy, as he said,</p> - -<p>“Young man, you belong. I wouldn’t blame yuh if yuh ran away. We’re -just a pair of ordinary human beings, but we’re backin’ yore play.”</p> - -<p>“Gee, that’s nice of you! I’m not much good—not alone. I didn’t come -here with the idea of becoming a gunman, but I wish somebody would -show me something about a revolver. It tries to jump out of my hand -every time I shoot it, and I can’t hit a five-gallon can at ten feet. -Really, a fellow should know something about a gun—if somebody is -trying to kill him.”</p> - -<p>“It might come in handy,” smiled Hashknife. “Neither of us are good -shots, but we can show you how to point a gun.”</p> - -<p>“Fine! And to draw one real fast, like Johnny Grant can?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve never seen Johnny Grant draw a gun. I’ve found that it isn’t all -in the speed. Too much speed wastes the first shot. Never reach for a -gun, unless you mean to use it, and when you do reach, draw and shoot -deliberately. Split-second gunmen don’t hit anythin’. And another -thing, Jimmy—don’t shoot, unless yo’re in the right. Bein’ right to -start with will win nine times out of ten. You know it and the other -man knows it.”</p> - -<p>“I think I know what you mean, Mr. Hartley.”</p> - -<p>“I’m glad yuh do—and my name’s Hashknife—to them that belong.”</p> - -<p>Jimmy grinned widely. It was the first time that any one had even -intimated that he might “belong,” and his heart filled with gratitude -toward this tall, serious-faced cowboy, who had admitted him to the -brotherhood of cowpunchers.</p> - -<p>“But you’ll never make a cowpuncher out of yourself, by gettin’ -pitched off every bronc yuh see,” declared Sleepy. “Bein’ a cow-hand -don’t necessarily mean that yuh can ride anythin’ that wears hair. -Nobody’s goin’ to blame yuh, if yuh don’t ride bad ones. That’s only a -small part of the business—the fool part, Jimmy.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose you’re right,” admitted Jimmy. “I wasn’t born to ride -buckers. I was just wondering how you two men happened to be cowboys.”</p> - -<p>“Circumstance, I reckon,” said Hashknife. “I was born on the Milk -River, in Montana. My dad was a preacher, Jimmy. Not the kind of a -preacher you’ve known. He wore overalls and boots, and when he wasn’t -ridin’ from place to place, packin’ his gospel, he was workin’ like —— -at somethin’ else to make a livin’ for the family, because preachin’ -didn’t pay dividends.</p> - -<p>“There was six of us kids, and I was the oldest; which meant that I -was shiftin’ for myself when I was twelve. I naturally didn’t get -over-educated. But I competed against men, and they taught me things. -There wasn’t anythin’ to do in that country, except punchin’ cows; so -I naturally learned the business.</p> - -<p>“In fact, I was about eighteen years old before I knew there was -anythin’ else in the world. Then I started driftin’, learnin’, and -fightin’ my way. I got whipped a lot of times, but I learned a lot of -things; some of it from books, but a lot more from humanity. It’s been -a hard school, Jimmy—and it still is; a school where yuh never -graduate.”</p> - -<p>“I never thought of the world in that way, Hashknife.”</p> - -<p>“That’s the way she is,” declared Sleepy. “I got off in about the same -way Hashknife did. My folks wanted to honor Idaho; so they moved over -near Pocatello before I was born. I went to school, when they could -find a man who was brave enough to teach the risin’ sons—which wasn’t -no ways regular. The last teacher we had was a horse-thief, and he -almost got me mixed up with him in a deal.</p> - -<p>“I jist kinda growed up, got some wildeyed ideas, and follered a bunch -of geese South. I had a lot of corners on me, and inside of three -years I had ’em all knocked off. In three years more I had hollers -where there used to be bumps. About that time I decided that there was -a —— of a lot of other folks in the world; so I sawed off my horns and -held my elbows close to my sides, when I went through a crowd. I -eventually drifted to the Hashknife outfit, where I finds my pardner. -I dunno just how or why he picked up with me, but we’ve been together -ever since.”</p> - -<p>“I felt sorry for yuh,” said Hashknife solemnly.</p> - -<p>“Yeah, and I’ve felt sorry for myself ever since.”</p> - -<p>From out in the patio came the raucous bray of Apollo, as if he had -joined the laugh. The three men sauntered out into the patio, where -Apollo was nosing around in a water-bucket. He looked them over -suspiciously and angled crab-wise toward Sleepy, who was wise in the -ways of a burro.</p> - -<p>“Git away from me, yuh —— relic,” snorted Sleepy, slapping at the -burro with his hat. Marion came from the house, laughing at Sleepy’s -antics, and they grouped together at the well.</p> - -<p>“Apollo is a family heirloom,” laughed Marion. “No man knows his age. -The Indians say he was here when they came, and he has never grown -old, except in appearance.”</p> - -<p>Marion put one arm over the burro’s neck and rubbed his nose with her -hand.</p> - -<p>“He loves me,” she said.</p> - -<p>“And I heard a man say once that a burro didn’t have any sense,” -smiled Hashknife.</p> - -<p>Marion colored slightly.</p> - -<p>“They’re the wisest of animals,” declared Sleepy.</p> - -<p>Came the sharp thud of a blow, as if something had struck the burro -with a heavy impact, and the ancient animal dropped as if its legs had -been suddenly yanked from under its body. In fact, its fall was so -sudden that Marion jerked forward, lost her balance, and fell -sprawling across its neck.</p> - -<p>And as she fell, from somewhere back in the hills, came the report of -a rifle shot. It was so sudden, so unexpected, that no one moved for a -moment. Then Hashknife flung himself forward, grasped Marion in his -arms and ran back to the shelter of the bunk-house, with Sleepy and -Jimmy following.</p> - -<p>They stopped against the bunk-house door, staring at each other. -Marion was dazed but unhurt.</p> - -<p>“What was it?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Yo’re not hurt?” asked Hashknife anxiously.</p> - -<p>“I’m not hurt. I—I just fell down. But what—”</p> - -<p>“Good gosh, that sure was a close one!” exclaimed Sleepy. “Some dirty -coyote—”</p> - -<p>“Shot at me,” finished Jimmy nervously. “That bullet went past my -ear—I felt it.”</p> - -<p>“But—but—” faltered Marion.</p> - -<p>“Stay where yuh are,” cautioned Hashknife.</p> - -<p>He ran into the bunk-house, and came out in a minute, stuffing -cartridges into the loading-gate of one of the ranch rifles.</p> - -<p>“Oh, be careful about showing yourself,” cautioned Marion.</p> - -<p>“Thanks,” grinned Hashknife.</p> - -<p>He moved along the patio wall, slipped out through the gate, while -Sleepy took a rifle from the bunk-house, swearing disgustedly over the -fact that Hashknife had taken all the cartridges.</p> - -<p>“It came from the hill back of us,” said Marion. “Poor old Apollo!”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, he’s a goner,” said Sleepy softly. “Well, that’s about all yuh -ever could do to make him die. If old age was ever goin’ to kill him, -he’d ’a’ died forty years ago.”</p> - -<p>There were tears in Marion’s eyes as she looked at the sprawling -figure of the ancient burro. Worse than useless, he had always been a -part of the Double Bar 8. It was the razing of a landmark.</p> - -<p>Suddenly the ancient one shuddered, lifted its misshapen head and -goggled foolishly. Then it got slowly to unsteady legs, staggered a -few feet, thrust out its head, opened a cavernous mouth, which showed -a few crooked teeth, and brayed defiance to all rifle-shooting -bushwhackers.</p> - -<p>“My ——!” snorted Sleepy. “A rifle can’t even kill it!”</p> - -<p>Marion was laughing and crying alternately, and Sleepy grasped her by -the arm to prevent her from going out to the burro.</p> - -<p>“It just creased him,” explained Sleepy. “See where that blood streak -runs down his neck? That bullet went through his neck just over the -vertebrae, knocked him plumb out for a while, but he’s as good as ever -now.”</p> - -<p>Apollo looked reproachfully at Sleepy, stretched his neck tentatively -and moved over to the shade of the wall, evidently none the worse for -his experience.</p> - -<p>When Hashknife left the patio gate he hugged the wall, circling to the -rear of the bunk-house, from where he ran to the stable. He decided -that the shot had been fired from a point on the hill, near the upper -end of a small cañon. It was about the only spot on that side where a -man could get elevation enough to enable him to see the center of the -patio.</p> - -<p>There was plenty of brush on the slope behind the stable; brush tall -enough to conceal him from any one on the slope; so Hashknife did not -hesitate to head directly for the spot he had in mind. There was no -more shooting, but Hashknife could not be sure that the bushwhacker -had not seen him start from the patio; so when he was half-way up to -the break of the cañon, he went carefully, taking advantage of the -heaviest cover in sight.</p> - -<p>Hashknife realized his own danger. It was almost impossible for him to -move without making a noise in the dry brush. And he did not know what -moment a bullet might search him out. Working to the right, he came to -the cañon rim, where he sprawled under a bush, listening closely.</p> - -<p>Near him a flock of quail scurried about in the brush, their peculiar -call, ventriloquistic, “Sit right there!” echoing back from the -cañon-walls. One of them passed within inches of his rifle muzzle, a -nervously jerking handful of blue and bronze, evidently puzzled at -this sprawled figure of a human, which did not move.</p> - -<p>The quail were working up the slope. Peering beneath the brush, -Hashknife could see the little blue fellows running from cover to -cover, while their calling became more faint. Hashknife slid farther -out on the rim, and was about to get to his feet, when he saw the -flock of quail whir up from the brush, and come hurtling down the -cañon, swinging in below him, scattering badly, and beginning their -warning cries again.</p> - -<p>Something or somebody had disturbed them. Then he heard the sound of -something coming down through the brush toward him. He got to his -haunches, swinging his rifle into position as a horse and rider broke -through the brush, almost against him.</p> - -<p>The black horse snorted wildly, as Hashknife arose, covering the rider -with the rifle. The man jerked back and his hands went above his head, -while the horse surged back. The rider was of medium height, slightly -gray, his bronzed face heavily lined, one cheek bulged with a chew of -tobacco. He quieted the horse, spat explosively and shut one eye as he -looked down at Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Well?” he said rather defiantly.</p> - -<p>“Not so well,” said Hashknife coldly. He circled the horse, but there -was no rifle in sight.</p> - -<p>“What’s the idea?” queried the man. “That’s what I want to know. Who -are you, pardner?”</p> - -<p>“M’ name’s Goode. G-o-o-d-e. Called ‘Plenty.’”</p> - -<p>“Yeah? Good rifle shot?”</p> - -<p>“Fair.”</p> - -<p>“Uh-huh,” Hashknife considered Mr. Goode. He was not a soft-looking -person.</p> - -<p>“Of course, it’s none of my business, but I’m just curious to know -who, or which one of us, you tried to kill a while ago, Mr. Goode?”</p> - -<p>“Me?” Goode spat thoughtfully. “That’s a queer question, my friend -with the cocked Winchester. ’S far as I remember, I ain’t tried to -kill anybody for a long time.”</p> - -<p>“No-o-o-o?” drawled Hashknife. “I hate to call a man a liar.”</p> - -<p>“Prob’ly,” dryly. “I hate to be called one, when I’ve got my hands in -the air.”</p> - -<p>“Sure. Yuh might care to tell me how yuh happen to be right here about -this time.”</p> - -<p>“Cinch. I’m from the X Bar 6 outfit. Me and Ed Gast was back toward -Yaller Horn Mesa today, and when we’re on our way back I decides to -ride down to the Double Bar 8. Ed went on to Blue Wells; so I cuts a -straight line for here. Satisfied?”</p> - -<p>“But not contented,” said Hashknife. “Just why didja want to come to -the Double Bar 8? You know —— well the three men from that ranch are -in jail at Blue Wells.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I knowed that all right. But I wanted to get a look at the two -men who are runnin’ the place.”</p> - -<p>“Get a look at ’em, eh?”</p> - -<p>Goode grinned widely, showing his tobacco-stained teeth.</p> - -<p>“I reckon yo’re one of ’em, stranger. Yuh see, I lived at Black Wells -when you and yore pardner cleaned up the Modoc trouble, and I heard a -lot about yuh. I’ve always wanted to thank yore pardner for killin’ -Jud Mahley. It saved me a ca’tridge.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife studied the face of the ex-Black Wells cowboy, but the man -seemed sincere.</p> - -<p>“I want to believe yuh, Goode. But a while ago somebody fired a rifle -up here, and the bullet almost killed a woman in the Double Bar 8 -patio.”</p> - -<p>Goode’s eyes narrowed.</p> - -<p>“And yuh thought I done it, Hartley?”</p> - -<p>“I found yuh here.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, that’s true. I heard the shot. It wasn’t long ago. But a shot -don’t mean anythin’. I seared up a flock of quail back there on the -hill, and I jist wondered if somebody hadn’t been out tryin’ to get a -meal of ’em.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife lowered his gun and let down the hammer.</p> - -<p>“I’m takin’ you at yore word, Goode,” he said. “There’s got to be a -reason for that shot—and I don’t reckon you’ve got one.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I sure ain’t, Hartley. Any old time I go bushwhackin’, it won’t -be you, nor any of yore friends.”</p> - -<p>“Well, that’s sure thoughtful of yuh. Do yuh know Miss Taylor?”</p> - -<p>“Know who she is. Tex Alden intended to send me and one of the other -boys down here to run this ranch, but when you boys took it, I reckon -he changed his mind.”</p> - -<p>“It didn’t make him mad, did it, Goode?”</p> - -<p>Goode looked curiously at Hashknife, his lips pursed thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>“Well, it hadn’t ought to,” he said slowly.</p> - -<p>Hashknife nodded. He liked Goode for that remark.</p> - -<p>“We might as well go down to the ranch-house,” suggested Hashknife. “I -reckon the shootin’ is all over.”</p> - -<p>“I hope t’ gosh it is, Hartley. That’s nasty business.”</p> - -<p>They went to the ranch-house, where Hashknife introduced Goode to -Sleepy and Jimmy. Marion had gone into the house, but came out a few -minutes later and was introduced. Hashknife explained how he had met -Goode.</p> - -<p>It was possibly a half an hour later that Goode rode away. His -explanation of how he happened to be there on the hill so soon after -the shooting did not satisfy Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“That jigger’s eyes are hard,” declared Sleepy. “Jist like moss-agate. -And he’s from Black Wells, Hashknife.”</p> - -<p>“I <i>sabe</i> that,” smiled Hashknife. “But I don’t think he did fire that -shot. He don’t look like a hired killer, and it’s a cinch he ain’t got -no personal reason for killin’ any of us.”</p> - -<p>“Ain’t he?” Sleepy smiled wisely. “Just suppose Mr. Goode is one of -that gang of train robbers? He knows what we done in the Modoc -country. Figure it out for yourself.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife nodded seriously.</p> - -<p>“Yeah, that might be true. Mebbe he thinks we’re here to work on that -case. I hate to get fooled on humanity, Sleepy. That feller may be -awful slick. He’s either innocent, or smooth as satin, because he sure -had an alibi on the end of his tongue.”</p> - -<p>“But he didn’t have any rifle,” said Jimmy.</p> - -<p>“A rifle is easy to hide,” said Sleepy, shaking his head. “Nossir, I’d -look out for Mr. Goode.”</p> - -<p>“But that shot was fired at me.” Jimmy was not to be denied of his -thrill. “It went right past my ear.”</p> - -<p>“And why would Goode shoot at Jimmy?” questioned Marion.</p> - -<p>Hashknife laughed and picked some of the burrs off his knees.</p> - -<p>“We’ve got to get an answer-book, folks. I’m glad that the heirloom -was only creased. But from now on we’ve got to be mighty careful. -Unless I’m mistaken, that shot was only a beginnin’.”</p> - -<p>“Do you think you ought to stay here?” asked Marion nervously. “I -mean, to take a chance on your lives, just to help me out?”</p> - -<p>Hashknife looked at Jimmy, who dug his heel savagely in the hard -ground, appearing ill at ease. Finally he looked up, noticing that -both Hashknife and Sleepy were waiting for him to answer Marion’s -question.</p> - -<p>“Well,” he said, “as far as I’m concerned, I’ll stay.”</p> - -<p>“Three times—and out,” said Hashknife softly. “They’ve tried twice, -Jimmy.”</p> - -<p>“I know,” seriously. “But,” he grinned and peeled some sunburn off his -nose, “I’m beginnin’ to think that you never will die until your time -comes.”</p> - -<p>“And that thought will sure help yuh win a lot of fights where the -odds are all against yuh, Jimmy,” said Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Are you a fatalist?” asked Marion.</p> - -<p>“Well,” grinned Hashknife, “if I wasn’t, I’d ’a’ been scared to death -years ago.”</p> - -<p>“I would like to hear about that Modoc affair,” said Jimmy.</p> - -<p>Hashknife shook his head quickly.</p> - -<p>“No, Jimmy. It wasn’t anything. Goode kinda got things twisted. I hope -Carrie Nation gets some food on the table pretty soon.”</p> - -<p>It was like Hashknife to refuse to tell of things they had done. After -he and Sleepy Stevens had joined forces and left the Hashknife outfit, -fate seemed to throw them into troubled waters. Hashknife was either -blessed or cursed with an analytical mind. A range mystery was food -and drink to him. Sleepy’s mind ran in normal channels, but he loved -to roam, and his love of adventure, fearlessness in the face of -danger, made him a valuable ally to Hashknife.</p> - -<p>So for a number of years their trail had led them where the cattle -roamed, working on mysteries; more often than not, working for the -sheer love of the thing, rather than for pay. At times they had -stepped out of a pall of powder smoke, mounted their horses and rode -away ahead of the thanks of those whose future had been made more -bright by their coming.</p> - -<p>“Soldiers of fortune,” a man had called them.</p> - -<p>“Cowpunchers of disaster,” corrected Hashknife.</p> - -<p>And in all their wanderings, the thing uppermost in their minds was to -find the spot where they might be satisfied to settle down and live a -peaceful life; both of them realizing all the while that they would -never be satisfied with peace. Always the other side of the hill -called to them—the irresistible call of the open, of the strange -places, which is always answered by men who can’t sit still.</p> - -<h2>XI—THE SHERIFF WONDERS</h2> - -<p>After Goode rode back to Blue Wells he met Lee Barnhardt, who was -taking a drink at the Oasis, and Goode, who was also drinking, told -him of his visit to the Double Bar 8, and of the mysterious shot. The -lawyer was naturally interested and questioned Goode closely, but -Goode knew nothing of who had fired the shot.</p> - -<p>“I met Hartley and Stevens,” offered Goode. “They’re the same two -jiggers that cleaned up that Modoc job.”</p> - -<p>“Detectives?” asked Barnhardt.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I dunno about that part of it. But that ain’t the only job they -ever cleaned up. There’s a lot more behind that one, and I’ll betcha -they’ve not been idle since then. I’m wonderin’ what they’re doin’ -here.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps they’re working on that train robbery.”</p> - -<p>“Pshaw, that might be it. I’ll buy a drink, Barnhardt.”</p> - -<p>On his way back to the office Barnhardt met Le Moyne.</p> - -<p>“What ever happened to that detective the Santa Rita was going to put -on that robbery?” asked Barnhardt.</p> - -<p>Le Moyne smiled.</p> - -<p>“Why, I guess the company didn’t think it was worth while, as long as -you folks had jailed some one for doing the job.”</p> - -<p>Barnhardt laughed softly, knowingly.</p> - -<p>“That’s all right, Chet. But when you hire detectives, why don’t you -get men whose reputations are not so well known?”</p> - -<p>Le Moyne looked him over coldly.</p> - -<p>“What do you mean, Lee?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I respect your secrecy. But really, Hartley and Stevens are too -well known to do much good.”</p> - -<p>“Eh?” Le Moyne frowned heavily. “Those two men at the Taylor ranch?”</p> - -<p>“Sure. The two best man hunters you could have hired. But it’s a case -of them being too well known.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah?” Le Moyne smiled thinly. “Too well known, eh? But don’t blame -me—I’m not the Santa Rita company.”</p> - -<p>“That’s true.”</p> - -<p>“Personally, I know nothing about their reputation, Lee.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t? Well, I don’t know very much, but I do know that they’ve -never lost a case. I’d hate to have them on my trail.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” Le Moyne shrugged his shapely shoulders, “it seems as though -we had hired two very good men, Lee.”</p> - -<p>“You have.” Barnhardt laughed and grew confidential. “Tex Alden is as -sore as a boil. He didn’t want them two men to stay at the ranch. He -intended to run the ranch himself.”</p> - -<p>“He did, eh?” Le Moyne scowled. “Yeah, I suppose he would. I’m glad he -missed out on that. And I’m glad the sheriff and the railroad -detective had to make that arrest. It rather lets me out of any blame -in the matter, you see.”</p> - -<p>“Certainly.”</p> - -<p>“They’ve got plenty of help at the Double Bar 8,” said Barnhardt, -after a pause. “That tenderfoot, Jimmy Legg, who was at the AK ranch, -has volunteered his services. Tex sure is sore at him.”</p> - -<p>“Sore at Legg? What for?”</p> - -<p>“Well, Tex thinks Marion pays too much attention to Legg.”</p> - -<p>“Well, does she?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know, Chet. She calls him Jimmy, and he calls her Marion.”</p> - -<p>“Does, eh? Say, Lee, where did that fellow come from?”</p> - -<p>“Nobody seems to know. He tramped in here the night of the hold-up. He -said the train passed him. I can’t quite figure him out. I’ve talked -with Scotty Olson and Al Porter about him, and they’re not quite sure -what he is. He’s not a bad looking fellow, and I think he has a way -with women.”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean by that?”</p> - -<p>“Well, you know, Chet; sort of a way of talking.”</p> - -<p>“Yea-a-ah, I guess I know what you mean,” sighed Le Moyne. “I’ll see -you later, Lee.”</p> - -<p>Barnhardt went back to his office, glowing with the self satisfaction -that comes to men who love to gossip. Le Moyne met Goode at the Oasis, -and Goode was carrying just a little too much liquor. Goode happened -to be extolling Hashknife and Sleepy to the bartender, who evidently -didn’t care a bit about it.</p> - -<p>“I tell yuh, they’re invin-shi-ble,” he declared. “Bes’ pair of -two-handed fighters on earth. Betcha odds, tha’s what’ll do.”</p> - -<p>“Hello, Plenty,” said Le Moyne.</p> - -<p>Goode goggled at Le Moyne.</p> - -<p>“Howza paymashter? Whatcha usin’ f’r money these days, Chet?”</p> - -<p>“Good yellow gold, Plenty. What do you want to bet on?”</p> - -<p>“Don’t get him started,” advised the bartender. “He’s drunk. Wants to -bet odds that Hartley and Stevens will find the men who robbed your -pay-roll.”</p> - -<p>Le Moyne laughed and bought a drink for every one at the bar.</p> - -<p>“I’m tellin’ yuh,” declared Goode. “’F they was after me, I’d run like -——, and pray every jump.”</p> - -<p>“Bad men, eh?” asked Le Moyne, laughing.</p> - -<p>“Wors’ you ever sheen! Gun-shootin’ mind-readers. Yesshir. Oh, you’ll -shee.”</p> - -<p>He pointed a wavering finger in the direction of the bartender.</p> - -<p>“Betcha oddsh. Betcha anythin’—”</p> - -<p>Goode waved his arm, as if to encompass everything, and sat down on -the bar-rail, where he began snoring.</p> - -<p>“Can’t stand much,” said the bartender. “Give him ten drinks of hooch, -and he’s plumb gone. Know anythin’ about Hartley and Stevens?”</p> - -<p>Le Moyne smiled and his brows lifted slightly.</p> - -<p>“You knew the Santa Rita had detectives on the case, didn’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I did hear they was goin’ to. What’ll yuh drink, Chet?”</p> - -<p>“Same thing. I wonder where Goode found out so much about those two -men?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. He’s been out to the Double Bar 8 to see ’em, and when -he came back he met Al Porter here. They had a few shots of hooch, and -Goode told Al all about ’em. The more drinks he took, the more he -told. After Al went away, Barnhardt came in, and Goode told it all -over again. When Barnhardt went out, I was the victim. You’re lucky he -went to sleep.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose I am,” laughed Le Moyne. “It appears that the Double Bar 8 -is well taken care of right now. Did any one find out who shot that -tenderfoot kid the other night?”</p> - -<p>“Never tried to, I reckon. The kid went back to the AK.”</p> - -<p>“He’s over at the Taylor place now.”</p> - -<p>“Is that so?”</p> - -<p>“That’s what I heard.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, sure; I heard that too. You heard about somebody takin’ a shot at -the gang at the Double Bar 8, didn’t yuh?”</p> - -<p>Le Moyne hadn’t; so the bartender told him what he had heard Goode -tell Barnhardt. It was interesting to Le Moyne, inasmuch as the bullet -nearly struck Marion.</p> - -<p>“That sure beats ——!” snorted Le Moyne. “What kind of a country is -this getting to be? I wonder,” he squinted thoughtfully, “if that shot -was fired at Legg, the tenderfoot?”</p> - -<p>“Might have been. What’ll yuh have, Chet?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing; I’ve had enough.”</p> - -<p>Le Moyne turned his back to the bar, while he rolled and lighted a -cigaret, his eyes thoughtful. Scotty Olson came in and spoke to Le -Moyne as he walked past, but the handsome paymaster of the Santa Rita -did not reply. Finally he walked out, mounted his horse and rode away.</p> - -<p>The sheriff came back to the bar.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter with Le Moyne?” he asked of the bartender.</p> - -<p>“I dunno.” The bartender rested his elbows on the bar, chewing on his -cigar. “I told him about the bushwhacker out at the Double Bar 8 -almost killin’ Marion Taylor, and I suppose Le Moyne is sore about -it.”</p> - -<p>“Al Porter was tellin’ me about it,” nodded the sheriff. “I don’t -<i>sabe</i> it.”</p> - -<p>“You’d be a wonder if yuh did, Scotty. This country is getting pretty -salty, don’tcha know it? First a train robbery, then an attempted -murder on the main street, and now they’re shootin’ from the hills.”</p> - -<p>“And what for?” wailed the sheriff. “My ——, I do hate a mystery!”</p> - -<p>“Sure yuh do, Scotty. What’ll yuh drink? See-gar? Sure. These ought to -be good. Paid five dollars for that box of ’em three years ago. Pretty -dry? Well, my ——, you’d be dry, too, if yuh was kept in a box in -Arizona for three years. What-cha suppose anybody’s tryin’ to kill off -Legg for?”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t know they was.”</p> - -<p>“Somebody shot at him the other night, didn’t they? And Goode says -that shot was fired at him today.”</p> - -<p>“He ought to go away,” said Scotty, looking gloomily at his cigar, -which seemed to be trying to expand into a rose, or a cabbage.</p> - -<p>He flung it in a cuspidor, and smoothed his huge mustache.</p> - -<p>“We never had no trouble around here until he came,” said Scotty. -“He’s a hoodoo, that —— tenderfoot!”</p> - -<p>“How’s that dog comin’ along, Scotty?”</p> - -<p>“First class. It bit me once, and Al Porter twice.”</p> - -<p>“Ha, ha, ha, ha! Don’t like officers, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Takes after his owner, I reckon. Gimme somethin’ to take the taste of -that cigar out of my mouth.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff drank a glass of liquor and scowled at Plenty Goode, who -still sat on the bar-rail, snoring blissfully.</p> - -<p>“Don’t wake him up,” pleaded the bartender. “When that jigger gets on -one subject, he never knows when to quit.”</p> - -<p>“I ain’t goin’ to wake him up,” wearily. “I suppose I’d better go out -to the Double Bar 8 and investigate that shooting. It won’t do no -good, though. I’ve got more prisoners now than I know what to do with. -Three of ’em—and a —— dog! I wish I wasn’t the sheriff.”</p> - -<p>“Well, cheer up, Scotty; somebody will prob’ly kill yuh very soon, and -then yore troubles will all be over.”</p> - -<p>“I s’pose that’s true.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff went back to his office, where he found Porter cleaning a -Winchester.</p> - -<p>“Hear anythin’ new?” growled Porter.</p> - -<p>“No. Reckon there’s any use investigatin’ that shootin’ at the Taylor -ranch?”</p> - -<p>Porter inserted a piece of white paper in the breech of the rifle, and -squinted down the barrel.</p> - -<p>“With two of the smartest detectives already there?” he replied. -“You’d find out a —— of a lot, wouldn’t yuh?”</p> - -<p>“Mebbe that’s right. I understand they’re hired by Le Moyne, or by the -Santa Rita mine.”</p> - -<p>“Mm-m-m-m-m,” Porter reached for the oil-can and proceeded to -lubricate the mechanism.</p> - -<p>“I dunno how a detective can ever find out who held up that train, if -he spends all his time runnin’ a ranch,” said the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“Not bein’ a detective, I don’t know,” said Porter coldly. “And what’s -a lot more I don’t care a ——!”</p> - -<h2>XII—JIMMY TAKES A SHOT</h2> - -<p>For the next three days nothing startling happened at the Double Bar -8, except that Jimmy Legg labored hard with the intricacies of a rope, -which invariably tangled around his legs, and a six-shooter, which -seemed to ignore the target entirely.</p> - -<p>Hashknife and Sleepy humped against the patio wall, absorbing many -cigarets, while they solemnly gave advice to Jimmy, and marveled that -any man could shoot away so much ammunition and never hit anything.</p> - -<p>But Jimmy was persistent. He banged away merrily, satisfied if his -bullet came within two feet of a tomato-can, at twenty feet, trying to -follow Hashknife’s advice to shoot low. Apollo, the burro, entirely -recovered from his creasing, humped back in the shade of the patio -wall, and watched Jimmy with solemn dignity, jerking his one good ear -convulsively at each report of the heavy Colt.</p> - -<p>Nanah had watched with interest from the door of the ranch-house, -until a misdirected bullet smashed through a window near her, after -which she lost interest in Jimmy’s marksmanship.</p> - -<p>Hashknife and Sleepy rounded up several head of Double Bar 8 horses, -getting Marion’s opinion on them as a remuda for the coming round-up, -and also trying them out. As a result, both of the cowboys were stiff -and sore from the unaccustomed shaking which is usually meted out to a -rider by horses which have not been ridden for months. Jimmy Legg had -tried one, and then retired to the liniment bottle.</p> - -<p>Marion decided to ride to Blue Wells, and Jimmy immediately offered to -ride with her. Jimmy had not been away from the ranch since the -mysterious bullet had nearly robbed him of an ear, and he was anxious -to go to town. Regardless of the fact that his torn scalp had not been -dressed by a doctor, it was doing very nicely, and he was able to do -away with the bandage.</p> - -<p>He and Marion did not indulge in much conversation on the way to Blue -Wells, because of the fact that most of Jimmy’s time was occupied in -handling his mount.</p> - -<p>“This is rather embarrassing,” he told Marion. “I start to say -something to you, when this fool horse goes off across the country. -I’d rather be thrown off than to have my conversation interrupted -every time.”</p> - -<p>“But you’re learning,” declared Marion.</p> - -<p>“I hope so,” dubiously.</p> - -<p>“Jimmy, does it mean so much to you—to be a cowboy?”</p> - -<p>Jimmy reined his horse back into the road, clutched his hat just in -time to save it, and nodded violently.</p> - -<p>“You bet! Say, it means an awful lot to me, Marion. Darn it, the more -I think about it, the more it means.”</p> - -<p>Marion did not question him any further, as they rode down the main -street of Blue Wells. Marion dismounted at the sheriff’s office, but -Jimmy rode on to the Oasis hitch-rack, where he had seen several AK -horses tied.</p> - -<p>At the Oasis bar he found Johnny Grant, Eskimo Swensen, Oyster Shell -and Tex Alden. Johnny fell upon him with a war-whoop of joy and -dragged him to the bar, while Eskimo and Oyster pounded him on the -shoulders and examined his scalp, much in the way of a pair of -monkeys, gibbering the while.</p> - -<p>Tex turned away without speaking and walked outside, while the AK gang -leaned Johnny against the bar and demanded loudly of the bartender -that he work fast. They questioned Jimmy about the shooting at the -Double Bar 8, and his progress as a cowpuncher. In fact, the questions -came too fast for Jimmy to answer. But after the second drink he -managed to catch his breath, and told them some of the happenings. But -he would not drink any more.</p> - -<p>“I’ve got to ride back to the ranch,” he told them solemnly. “I -brought Miss Taylor to town, and she is down at the jail, visiting -with her folks.”</p> - -<p>The two drinks had made Jimmy rather expansive and he told them about -his roping and shooting lessons; which caused the AK boys to double up -with mirth.</p> - -<p>“We was goin’ to stop at yore place on the way back,” said Johnny -Grant. “Bonnette said to tell Miss Taylor that her outfit can use from -our wagons. There’s plenty of room for all the bed-rolls, and three -extra men ain’t goin’ to kill off our cook.”</p> - -<p>“Well, that certainly is thoughtful of him,” said Jimmy. “I know Miss -Taylor will appreciate it.”</p> - -<p>“Aw, you better have one more drink,” urged Eskimo. “One more won’t -hurt yuh none.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” Jimmy smiled expansively, “I suppose not. But I’ll buy this -one.”</p> - -<p>All of which was acceptable, as it had been long enough since pay-day -to find the AK boys in financial straits. They drank a health to -Jimmy, and all walked outside. The main street of Blue Wells drowsed -in the afternoon sun. A few men humped in shady spots, whittling, -discussing nothing much in particular. Even the horses at the -hitch-racks drowsed.</p> - -<p>Suddenly a commotion started at the sheriff’s office. It was not a big -commotion, but plainly audible on the silent street. A yellowish-red -dog darted out of the office door, whirled around once, as if to get -its bearings, and trotted up the street, looking back.</p> - -<p>Out of the door came Al Porter. He had a heavy dish in his right hand. -Only for a moment did he hesitate, and then started toward the dog, -running stiffly, swearing. The dog was Geronimo, the Exhibit A, in the -case of the State of Arizona versus the Taylor Outfit.</p> - -<p>Running as fast as he was capable, Porter hurled the dish at the dog. -But his aim was very faulty, which was attested to by a splintering of -window-glass from the front of Louie Sing’s restaurant.</p> - -<p>The AK gang whooped with mirth. Jimmy Legg, forgetting that ownership -of Geronimo might cause complications, ran across the street toward -Porter, yelling at him to let the dog alone. Geronimo stopped in an -angle between the end of a bench and the wall of Moon’s store, and -anxiously watched Porter, who had picked up several rocks about the -size of eggs, and was preparing to bombard the dog.</p> - -<p>Jimmy’s three drinks had made him reckless.</p> - -<p>“You let that dog alone!” yelped Jimmy.</p> - -<p>He was about twenty feet away from the swearing, perspiring Porter, -who paused long enough to consign Jimmy to a place which was even more -arid than Death Valley.</p> - -<p>“By ——, I’ll learn that dog to bite me!” he roared. “I’ll smash in his -—— skull!”</p> - -<p>The first rock struck the end of the bench and glanced into Geronimo, -who yelped more from fright than actual distress.</p> - -<p>“Stop that, you dirty coyote!” yelled Jimmy.</p> - -<p>Porter let fly with another rock, which narrowly missed breaking one -of the store windows, and whirled angrily toward Jimmy.</p> - -<p>“Who’s a coyote?” he snorted.</p> - -<p>His right hand swung back to the butt of his gun. It is barely -possible that Jimmy’s three drinks had ruined his perspective, because -he whipped out his gun and shot at Porter, almost before his hand -swung away from his hip.</p> - -<p>The enraged deputy was off balance, unprepared, his right foot lifted, -as he had been following the swing of his throwing-arm. And at the -crack of Jimmy’s gun, his feet seemed to jerk from under him and he -came down in the hard street with a crash.</p> - -<p>Jimmy stood there in the street, dangling the gun in his hand, while -Porter sprawled on his back, his knees jerking. The dog came running -toward Jimmy, barking joyfully, and almost knocked Jimmy down.</p> - -<p>“Good ——, go away!” panted Jimmy. “Gug-go away!”</p> - -<p>The three boys from the AK ran past Jimmy, going straight to Porter. -The sheriff and Marion were coming from the office, while it seemed to -Jimmy that the rest of the world spewed out of every doorway. Then he -lost his nerve. Whirling on his heel, he ran to the hitch-rack, -mounted his horse and went flailing off down the street, followed by -Geronimo, barking wildly.</p> - -<p>Porter got slowly to his feet, holding one hand against his head, his -face a mixture of anger and wonderment.</p> - -<p>“Where’d he hit yuh?”</p> - -<p>“What was the matter?”</p> - -<p>“Who shot yuh?”</p> - -<p>Questions were fired at Porter, who groaned dismally and shoved the -anxious sheriff away.</p> - -<p>“That —— fool!” quavered Porter. “Who’d ever think he’d shoot? I was -plumb off balance—kinda on one heel—and his bullet—take a look at it.”</p> - -<p>Porter held up his foot and they beheld the reason for the deputy’s -sudden drop. The heavy bullet had smashed into the high heel, almost -into the counter, and the impact had knocked Porter’s sole prop from -under him. And Porter had hit his head a resounding whack against the -ground, which accounted for the fact that Porter stayed down a while.</p> - -<p>“And he stole the dog!” exclaimed the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“The dog stole him,” amended Johnny Grant.</p> - -<p>“I hope t’ —— he keeps him!” groaned Porter. “I’m all through with -that dog, evidence or no evidence.”</p> - -<p>“But we’ve got to have that dog, Al,” insisted the sheriff. “That’s -our main evidence.”</p> - -<p>“Then you get him and do the feedin’. I never hired out as a —— -menagerie keeper. He bit me on the wrist, and when I kicked at him, he -bit me on the ankle and got loose.”</p> - -<p>Tex Alden was one of those who had come from Moon’s store, and now he -spoke to the sheriff:</p> - -<p>“Just why did that dog pull out with Legg?”</p> - -<p>“Why, I dunno, Tex,” admitted the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“Why did Legg defend the dog?”</p> - -<p>The sheriff looked blankly around.</p> - -<p>“I dunno that either, Tex.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” Tex smiled crookedly and shrugged his shoulders. He -looked at Marion, but did not speak, and turned away.</p> - -<p>“What’ll yuh do to that kid, Al?” asked one of the men.</p> - -<p>“Do to him?” Porter took it under advisement. “I dunno. He might ’a’ -been right. I was so —— mad that I dunno just how things was.”</p> - -<p>“You reached back for a gun,” reminded Eskimo, and the other three AK -cowboys nodded in confirmation.</p> - -<p>“Yuh did, Al,” said Johnny.</p> - -<p>“All right,” nodded Porter. “Mebbe I did.”</p> - -<p>“And the kid thought yuh was goin’ to draw on him,” offered Oyster -Shell.</p> - -<p>“Well, what the —— is all the argument about?” snarled the deputy. -“I’ll admit he was right. But,” Porter mustered a smile, “I hope that -—— dog bites him when he gits off that horse.”</p> - -<p>All of which ended all arguments as far as the guilt or innocence of -Jimmy Legg was concerned—although Jimmy Legg, running his horse back -toward the Double Bar 8, considered himself a deep-dyed killer.</p> - -<p>He imagined that a posse was already on his trail, and once he saw -Geronimo far back in the road, just topping a rise, and his -imagination conjured up a dozen armed men, hot on his trail. The -shooting had made him cold sober, but the taste of liquor was still on -his palate.</p> - -<p>His future was indefinite, because his thoughts ran in circles. He -could see the big deputy, lying flat in the street, his knees jerking. -Everything else was blotted out by that picture. He tried to remember -just why he had fired the shot, but it was like a half-forgotten -dream—something that had happened long ago.</p> - -<p>His horse was plastered with lather, when he rode in at the patio gate -and dismounted near the well. Hashknife and Sleepy were just coming -from the ranch-house door, realizing from the condition of the horse -that something was wrong.</p> - -<p>“What’s wrong, Jimmy?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>Jimmy flapped his arms weakly, and there was a decided catch in his -throat.</p> - -<p>“I just killed the deputy sheriff,” he said.</p> - -<p>Hashknife stepped closer and grasped Jimmy by a shoulder.</p> - -<p>“You done what?”</p> - -<p>Jimmy gulped and nodded.</p> - -<p>“Ye-yes, I did. I—I—”</p> - -<p>“Take it easy, kid,” said Hashknife. “Set down here on the curb and -tell us about it.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t,” Jimmy shook his head nervously. “I’ve got to keep going. -They’re after me, don’t you see?”</p> - -<p>“All right, kid. If they’re after you, this is a fine place for ’em to -get you.”</p> - -<p>“But I can’t stay here, Hashknife.”</p> - -<p>“Sure yuh can, Jimmy. Let’s talk it over. Runnin’ away won’t help yuh -none. You’d lose out.”</p> - -<p>Geronimo came into the patio, dust-covered, his tongue hanging out, -tail wagging. Jimmy had set a hot pace from town, but the dog had -found him. He sat down on his haunches in front of Jimmy and put a paw -on Jimmy’s knee.</p> - -<p>“Where’d the dog come from?” asked Sleepy.</p> - -<p>Jimmy looked at Geronimo, and Geronimo looked at Jimmy.</p> - -<p>“He is my dog,” said Jimmy slowly. “It’s the dog they had in jail—the -evidence against Taylor.”</p> - -<p>“Your dog, Jimmy?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” Jimmy nodded slowly. “You see, I was afraid to tell -anybody.”</p> - -<p>“All right,” said Hashknife. “Now, tell us about the killin’ of the -deputy sheriff, Jimmy.”</p> - -<p>And Jimmy told them, while the two cowboys asked a question here and -there to clarify things somewhat.</p> - -<p>“Well, it looks to me as if it was a case of self-defense,” said -Hashknife, when Jimmy had finished his story.</p> - -<p>“He really reached for his gun,” said Jimmy. “I realized it.”</p> - -<p>“What I’d like to know is, how in —— did yuh ever hit him?” queried -Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“I—I suppose it was because he’s larger than a tin can.”</p> - -<p>“Where do yuh reckon yuh hit him?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” wailed Jimmy. “It must have been through the -heart, because he fell down so quickly—and his knees were jerking.”</p> - -<p>“That’s good shootin’, for the first time,” said Sleepy dryly. “Where -is Marion?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I forgot her! I must have been excited.”</p> - -<p>“You prob’ly would be,” agreed Hashknife. “What I want you to do right -now is to tell me all about ownin’ this dog.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, about the dog,” Jimmy jerked nervously at the sound of a -noise outside the patio gate, but it was only Apollo, rubbing his -shoulder against the wall.</p> - -<p>Jimmy sighed deeply.</p> - -<p>“I suppose that was a dirty trick. But when I found out that—that the -dog was supposed to belong to a robber, I was afraid to claim him. He -ran away from me that night in Blue Wells, you see.”</p> - -<p>And then James Eaton Legg went ahead and told them about his -experience with the express messenger. Hashknife grinned, when Jimmy -told of that battle in the express car, and of how the messenger had -described him as being a big, burly man, who tried to draw a gun.</p> - -<p>“His lyin’ saves you a lot of trouble,” said Hashknife, when Jimmy had -finished his tale. “He didn’t want anybody to think he had been -whipped by a smaller man.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose so; but I’ll go to town and tell ’em that the dog belongs -to me. I might as well shoulder it all now.”</p> - -<p>“I wish yuh wouldn’t,” said Hashknife. “Let things ride as they are -for a while. If they arrest yuh for shootin’ the deputy, mebbe yuh can -make a self-defense out of it. Yuh say that the AK boys saw it? -They’ll prob’ly alibi yuh, ’cause they don’t like the sheriff. Under -the circumstances a man could lie a little and not bend his conscience -too much.”</p> - -<p>“Yuh should have stayed and seen the finish,” said Sleepy. “It would -’a’ looked better.”</p> - -<p>“I know it,” Jimmy sighed wearily. “But all I could think about was to -run away. I’ve never killed a man before.”</p> - -<p>“Prob’ly the first time he ever was killed, too.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, don’t joke about it! It’s a terrible thing.”</p> - -<p>“Pshaw, I wasn’t jokin’, Jimmy.”</p> - -<p>“I know, but—”</p> - -<p>A horse swung in through the patio gate, and Jimmy almost fell off the -curb; but it was only Marion. She looked at Jimmy and began laughing. -Geronimo barked joyfully and tried to jump up to her stirrup.</p> - -<p>But Jimmy only stared at her blankly, his mouth open.</p> - -<p>“What’s the joke?” asked Hashknife seriously.</p> - -<p>“Dud-don’t laugh,” pleaded Jimmy. “It isn’t anything to laugh about.”</p> - -<p>Between chuckles of merriment Marion managed to tell them what Jimmy -had done, while Jimmy, his eyes and mouth wide open, leaned against -the curb, gasping like a fish out of water.</p> - -<p>Marion described how Jimmy had ridden out of Blue Wells, followed by -the dog, and Sleepy cried against the shoulder of her horse. But Jimmy -was too relieved to laugh.</p> - -<p>“Well,” he said solemnly, “I guess I’ll have to pick something bigger -than a man next time. Really, there should be something big enough for -me to hit.”</p> - -<p>“You ought to attack a fort,” laughed Sleepy.</p> - -<p>They unsaddled Marion’s horse, while Jimmy took care of his own -exhausted mount. He was so happy that he tried to take the saddle off -without uncinching it.</p> - -<p>“I expect the sheriff will be out here soon,” Marion told them. “He -wants that dog. It bit Al Porter twice today, but they’ve got to keep -it for evidence.”</p> - -<p>“They don’t know it’s here,” said Hashknife. “Let’s hide it.”</p> - -<p>“Hide it? But that wouldn’t be lawful.”</p> - -<p>“It isn’t lawful to hold yore folks on that kind of evidence, either. -Where can we put the dog.”</p> - -<p>“In the cellar,” suggested Sleepy. “The one beneath the kitchen.”</p> - -<p>“But won’t they search?”</p> - -<p>“Prob’ly. Put a rug over the trap-door, and they’ll never see it.”</p> - -<p>It did not take them long to dump Geronimo into the cellar, where -Sleepy made him a good bed and put in a bucket of water. The dog -accepted his new quarters without any protest, and Nanah grinned when -she put an old rug over the trap-door, and moved over a table to rest -on it.</p> - -<p>The three men were in the bunk-house when the sheriff showed up, about -thirty minutes later. He looked around the patio, expecting to see the -dog, and dismounted. Hashknife shook hands with him. Jimmy did not put -in an appearance.</p> - -<p>“You heard what happened in town, didn’t yuh?” asked the sheriff. -Hashknife agreed that he had.</p> - -<p>“It ended all right,” remarked the sheriff. “Except that the main -exhibit of the Taylor case followed Legg out of town.”</p> - -<p>“What exhibit was that?”</p> - -<p>“The dog. Legg came here, didn’t he?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yeah. But I don’t know anythin’ about the dog. Jimmy said the -trouble started over a dog, and Miss Taylor said the dog followed -Jimmy out of Blue Wells, but it prob’ly went back.”</p> - -<p>“Yea-a-a-ah? Went back—where?”</p> - -<p>“Why, to Blue Wells.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t think so, Hartley.”</p> - -<p>“Didja search the town?”</p> - -<p>The sheriff, of course, hadn’t. He had taken it for granted that the -dog followed Legg all the way to the Double Bar 8, and upon sober -reflection on his part it was reasonable to suppose that the dog had -stopped and turned back to town.</p> - -<p>“The kid was kinda scared, wasn’t he?” asked the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“Naturally would be,” grinned Hashknife. “He thought he had killed -Porter.”</p> - -<p>“I dunno how he ever missed hittin’ Al some’ers beside in the heel. -They wasn’t twenty feet apart. That derned tenderfoot is goin’ to kill -somebody before he gits through. He’s comin’ closer every time. By -golly, I dodge every time I see him. He’s such a bad shot that he -worries me.”</p> - -<p>As they were laughing over Jimmy’s markmanship, Lee Barnhardt rode in -on his sway-backed mount and dismounted beside them.</p> - -<p>“You rode too fast for me,” he told the sheriff. “I saw you start out, -but you didn’t stop when I yelled.”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t hear yuh, Lee.”</p> - -<p>Marion came from the house, and Barnhardt took some mail from his -pocket, which he gave to her.</p> - -<p>“The postmaster said you forgot to get it,” he said. “I was coming -out; so I brought it.”</p> - -<p>The mail consisted of a few circulars and a weekly newspaper.</p> - -<p>“I asked for mail for you boys,” Barnhardt told Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“We’re not likely to get any,” smiled Hashknife. “Thank yuh just the -same.”</p> - -<p>Barnhardt turned to the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“What about that dog?”</p> - -<p>“Not here. Mebbe it never left town, Lee. Yo’re not worryin’ are yuh?”</p> - -<p>“Not me. I’d be just as well satisfied if it never came back.”</p> - -<p>“That’s what I thought. Are yuh ready to ride back?”</p> - -<p>The lawyer shook his head.</p> - -<p>“I’m in no hurry, Scotty.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I am. So long, folks.”</p> - -<p>Jimmy ventured out after the sheriff had gone, and wanted to know -everything the sheriff had said. He was so glad to know that the law -was not on his trail that he even spoke pleasantly to Lee Barnhardt.</p> - -<p>Marion went in the house, and Sleepy sat down in the shade with Jimmy, -leaving Hashknife with the lawyer.</p> - -<p>“Naturally, we are both working in the interests of the Taylor -family,” said the lawyer confidentially. “Now, I’d like to know what -progress you have made in your observations.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife looked at him keenly.</p> - -<p>“I don’t reckon I understand yuh, Barnhardt.”</p> - -<p>“No?” Barnhardt smiled knowingly. “For your own information I will say -that Chet Le Moyne admitted your connections with the Santa Rita -mining company.”</p> - -<p>“He did, eh?” Hashknife was wearing his poker face now.</p> - -<p>“Yes. It is rather difficult to keep a thing like that from becoming -common knowledge. Folks naturally wondered what your business might -be.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose,” seriously. “But I don’t reckon it makes much difference, -does it?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no. I have not mentioned it to any one; but I was curious to know -what you had found out, because I am anxious for any new development -which will serve my clients.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I can’t tell yuh much. In fact, I can’t tell yuh anythin’.”</p> - -<p>“Anything you told me would be in strictest confidence.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, I realize that.”</p> - -<p>But although the Blue Wells lawyer waited patiently, the tall cowboy -remained silent. Then—</p> - -<p>“Just an inkling of what you are doing would serve to cheer up my -clients.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife shifted his position and looked Barnhardt squarely in the -eye. The level stare of the cold-eyed cowboy caused Barnhardt’s gaze -to shift. He had the uncomfortable feeling that Hashknife could read -his mind.</p> - -<p>“Barnhardt,” said Hashknife earnestly, “do you think I’m a —— fool?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no; not at all. Well,” Barnhardt turned away, “I suppose I may as -well go back. No hard feelings, I hope. Being in charge of the Taylor -defense, I would naturally be interested in any new developments in -the case.”</p> - -<p>Barnhardt mounted his sway-backed horse and rode away, his elbows -flapping, his trouser-legs crawling up. About a mile from the Double -Bar 8 he drew rein and let his horse walk slowly along the dusty road, -while he took an envelope from his pocket.</p> - -<p>The flap had already been torn loose. He drew out the letter and -perused it closely. The envelope, postmarked Chicago, was addressed to -H. Hartley, Blue Wells, Arizona, and the letter read:</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>Dear Sir: A wire from us to James Eaton Legg, San Francisco, -California, brought a reply from his former place of residence -to the effect that Mr. Legg had left there and had left his -forwarding address as Blue Wells, Arizona. This may be a -coincidence, or it may be because of some former information. -Trusting that you will be able to furnish us with valuable -information soon, we beg to remain,</p> -<div style='text-align:right; margin-right:4em'>Sincerely yours,</div> -<div style='font-variant:small-caps; text-align:right; margin-right:1em;'>Leesom & Brand.</div> -</blockquote> -<p>Barnhardt’s lips were shut tightly and the muscles of his jaw bulged -as he tore the letter into tiny fragments, swung his horse off the -road and scattered the bits of paper into a mesquite tangle. He turned -in his saddle and looked back toward the Double Bar 8, as he reined -his horse back to the road.</p> - -<p>“Hashknife Hartley,” he said earnestly, “do you think I’m a —— fool?”</p> - -<p>But whether Hashknife did, or didn’t—Barnhardt had no way of knowing. -He could only guess, and possibly he guessed wrong. At any rate he -rode back to Blue Wells in a black frame of mind, and the first man he -met was Chet Le Moyne.</p> - -<p>“I’ve just been out to the Double Bar 8,” he told Le Moyne. “And I had -a talk with your detectives.”</p> - -<p>“You did, eh. What did they tell you?”</p> - -<p>“That would be telling, Chet. I told them I knew they were working for -the Santa Rita.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah?” coldly. “And then?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, they didn’t deny it. But I don’t think they’ve found out very -much.”</p> - -<p>“Possibly not.”</p> - -<p>Le Moyne watched Barnhardt ride down to his office, tie his horse, and -go inside. The face of the handsome paymaster twisted angrily, as his -gloomy eyes squinted against the sun.</p> - -<p>“I wonder if Barnhardt is just a plain —— fool, or—”</p> - -<p>Le Moyne shook his head and went on his way.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>That evening Hashknife, Sleepy and Jimmy rode to Blue Wells. There -were few people in town, and while Jimmy and Sleepy played pool at the -Oasis saloon, Hashknife found the sheriff at his office. The sheriff -was pleasant and curious, especially when Hashknife talked over with -him the evidence in the Taylor case.</p> - -<p>The subject of the AK boys’ locking the sheriff in his own cell came -up, and the sheriff explained that the reason no one discovered his -plight was because Al Porter, the deputy, was at Encinas, visiting a -girl, and did not get back until morning.</p> - -<p>“Does that Santa Rita pay-roll come in at the same time every month?” -asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“I dunno.”</p> - -<p>“They say that the paymaster always takes the money from here to the -mine.”</p> - -<p>“I reckon he does.”</p> - -<p>“And somebody would have to know it was comin’ that day.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, they must ’a’ knowed about it, Hartley.”</p> - -<p>“How would Taylor have found it out?”</p> - -<p>“That’s hard to say. Chet Le Moyne, the paymaster, is kinda sweet on -Miss Taylor, and—”</p> - -<p>“And he might have told her, eh?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t say he did, Hartley.”</p> - -<p>“But for the sake of an argument, it could ’a’ happened. She might ’a’ -mentioned the fact that Chet was comin’ in to get the pay-roll, eh? Is -that what yuh was thinkin’?”</p> - -<p>“Mebbe.” The sheriff did not want to commit himself.</p> - -<p>“And this Le Moyne was at the depot to get the pay-roll?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah. He was here earlier in the evenin’, and somebody said he went -out to see Miss Taylor.”</p> - -<p>“But he was at the depot to get the money, was he?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah.”</p> - -<p>“And you think there was four men in on the deal?”</p> - -<p>“Sure. The fourth one got on at Encinas. It was his job to put the -messenger out of commission, I reckon.”</p> - -<p>“This happened out where the AK road turns off the Encinas road, near -the railroad track, I understand. They cut the express car loose from -the rest of the train, ran it up there, blew the safe and got the -money. The engine crew say they had sort of a battle with ’em, after -they left the car. Then the engine crew ran the engine and express car -back to where they had cut loose from the rest of the train, picked it -up and came on to Blue Wells. Is that it?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, that’s what happened.”</p> - -<p>“This express messenger and the man who got on the car at Encinas -fought in the car, but finally fell out. Do yuh know if this was -before or after the train was cut in two?”</p> - -<p>The sheriff cogitated deeply.</p> - -<p>“I never did hear, but—say, it must ’a’ been after the train was -broken, because they picked up the messenger on their way to here. -Yessir, it must ’a’ been after they cut off the express car, because -that messenger sure was picked up. He never walked to the train.”</p> - -<p>“The messenger described the man who fought him, didn’t he?”</p> - -<p>“Well, he said it was a big, husky sort of a feller. I don’t think -there’s any question about him bein’ one of the gang. He used that dog -as a reason for gettin’ on that car.”</p> - -<p>“They why did he walk to the scene of the robbery, take the dog from -the express car and disappear?”</p> - -<p>“Prob’ly scared that some one would recognize the dog?”</p> - -<p>“The messenger and engine crew had already seen it. If it belonged to -Taylor, do yuh reckon they’d take the dog back to their ranch, where -any one could find it?”</p> - -<p>The sheriff twisted his mustache thoughtfully. This was something he -had not thought about.</p> - -<p>“Anybody would recognize that dog,” said Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Yore argument sounds pretty good,” admitted the sheriff. “But it -don’t make much difference, because we can’t find that dog. Al Porter -is glad, I suppose. The darn thing hates him. Bit him every time it -had a chance. Growls every time he shows up.”</p> - -<p>“You’ll have to find the dog before the trial, won’t yuh?”</p> - -<p>“I s’pose the prosecutin’ attorney will raise —— if it ain’t here. -Still, it’s been identified; so that prob’ly won’t make a lot of -difference.”</p> - -<p>“What became of Wade, the railroad detective?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, he went back. Yuh see, he decided that Taylor was guilty; so -there wasn’t anythin’ more for him to do here.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife went back to the saloon, and they made it a three-handed -game of pool. It was about nine o’clock when they decided to go back -to the ranch, as there was no excitement at all in Blue Wells. The -moonlight was so bright that, following Hashknife’s suggestion, they -rode in single file, about fifty feet apart.</p> - -<p>That shot from the hills had made Hashknife cautious, and he knew that -three riders, bunched, would make an easy target in that moonlight. -But their return was uneventful, except that there were no lights in -the windows of the ranch-house.</p> - -<p>“That sure looks all wrong,” declared Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Mebbe not,” said Sleepy. “Marion and Nanah might be enjoyin’ the -moonlight.”</p> - -<p>“They might, but we’ll play safe by thinkin’ they’re not.”</p> - -<p>The three men dismounted a hundred yards from the house and went -cautiously to the patio gate. There was not a sound. The rear of the -ranch-house flung a long shadow across the patio. Hashknife watched -and listened for a while, and then strode boldly inside. A door -creaked, and they heard Marion’s voice—</p> - -<p>“Is that you, Hashknife?” she spoke softly.</p> - -<p>“It sure is,” replied Hashknife. “What’s the matter?”</p> - -<p>“Come here.”</p> - -<p>They went softly across the patio and up to the door, where she let -them in. They could see the silhouette of Nanah against a window, -where she was watching. Marion closed the door softly.</p> - -<p>“There wasn’t any light,” said Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Nanah saw you leave your horses,” said Marion. “She knew who it was. -About half an hour ago Nanah and I were sitting on the back porch in -the moonlight. It was wonderful out there, but it was getting cool; so -we came in. There were no lamps lighted.</p> - -<p>“And Nanah swears she saw a man looking in the window, where she is -now. I told her she must be seeing things, but she persisted. So we -did not light a lamp. We watched and watched, but the man did not come -back. I went to the rear door and opened it a little. It squeaks a -little, you know. Then I saw a man cross the patio. He was all humped -up, and it seemed to me as though he had been looking in the window of -the bunk-house. I can’t be sure about it. I’m sure he did not suspect -that I had seen him, because he stopped in the gateway for quite a -while. Then he stepped into the shadow on the other side of the wall.”</p> - -<p>“How long ago was this?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Not over thirty minutes ago.”</p> - -<p>“He must have been lookin’ for us,” grinned Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“And if he seen us sneak in here he’ll know we’re on to him,” said -Hashknife. “But we’ve got to take a chance. Come out on the porch. -Tell Nanah to light the lamps.”</p> - -<p>The old Indian woman bustled around, lighting lamps, while the rest of -them followed Hashknife to the rear porch.</p> - -<p>“I’ll go first,” whispered Hashknife. “One man only makes one target. -If the coast is clear, I’ll whistle a tune, and Sleepy, you and Jimmy -come over there.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife kept well in the shadow in crossing the patio, and in a -minute or two he began whistling. Sleepy and Jimmy crossed to the -bunk-house, where the door was open. Hashknife lighted the lamp, which -was on a table about midway of the room.</p> - -<p>Then he motioned Sleepy and Jimmy back to the doorway, where he -followed them out, closing the door.</p> - -<p>“Duck down as low as yuh can and sneak back to the house,” he -whispered. They got back to the house and crept silently in.</p> - -<p>Hashknife stepped in close to a rear window, where he could get a -clear view of the patio, and watched through a break in the curtain.</p> - -<p>“If he didn’t see our horses, he’ll think we’re in the bunk-house,” -said Hashknife. “If he seen us leave our horses and do an Injun sneak, -he’ll know we’re on to him, and prob’ly fog away from here.”</p> - -<p>“Do you think it’s the man who has been trying to kill me?” asked -Jimmy.</p> - -<p>“Might be.”</p> - -<p>Suddenly Hashknife jerked back. A blinding flash filled the room, -followed by a terrific jarring crash, which fairly threw them off -their feet. The lamp was extinguished; pictures fell from the walls, -and a moment later the house seemed to be bombarded with missiles from -every angle.</p> - -<p>Hashknife had fallen back against a table, but now he got to his feet, -groping in the dark. Sleepy was swearing dazedly. Dust and smoke -eddied in through the broken windows, and with it was the odor of -dynamite; the unmistakable scent of nitroglycerine.</p> - -<p>“Is anybody hurt?” gasped Hashknife, scratching a match and holding it -above his head. Nanah was sitting against the wall, her eyes goggling -out of an impassive face. Marion had got to her feet and was reaching -for something to steady herself with, while Jimmy had backed against -the wall, his arms outspread against it, his feet braced.</p> - -<p>“What was it?” whispered Marion, staring wide-eyed at Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Somebody dynamited us, I reckon.” He strode to the door and flung it -open, while the others crowded close behind him. Where once had stood -the adobe bunk-house, there was only a pile of adobe bricks, twisted -timbers. The patio was a mass of adobe. On the porch of the -ranch-house was the splintered door, torn from its hinges and flung -across the patio.</p> - -<p>Hashknife ran across the yard, vaulted across the débris and went out -through a gaping hole in the patio wall, heading for the stables. -Through some freak of dynamite explosion, the force seemed to have -been in the opposite direction to the stables, with the result that -none of the stock was injured, and the stable still intact.</p> - -<p>It did not take Hashknife long to find that nothing had been injured -in the stable. A decidedly feminine shriek from the patio sent him -running back through the broken wall, where he almost ran into Apollo, -the ancient burro.</p> - -<p>“He was under that pile of stuff,” yelled Sleepy. “Rised up like a -darned ghost and almost scared Marion to death.”</p> - -<p>Marion was laughing foolishly, almost hysterically.</p> - -<p>“—— good thing I see man,” declared Nanah solemnly.</p> - -<p>“You bet it was!” agreed Hashknife warmly. “If yuh didn’t see that -man, we’d be in bad shape now, Nanah. Good gosh! Can yuh imagine what -would ’a’ happened to us, if we’d ’a’ been in that bunk-house?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah, and we’d better look a little out,” said Sleepy nervously. “The -little sidewinder that touched off that blast will prob’ly want to see -if he done a good job.”</p> - -<p>“He’ll not come back tonight, Sleepy. He’s high-tailin’ it out of this -section right now. I’ll betcha yuh could hear that explosion in Blue -Wells.”</p> - -<p>Marion shivered in the cold breeze, as she looked at the moonlit -wreck.</p> - -<p>“Oh, what will happen next?” she wondered aloud.</p> - -<p>“Somebody,” said Hashknife, “is goin’ to hear the echo of that blast, -and it sure is goin’ to ache his ears.”</p> - -<p>They tried to find their bed-rolls, but the outer wall of the -bunk-house, which was about two feet thick of adobe, had fallen in on -the floor, and it would require much digging to get down even to the -bunk-levels.</p> - -<p>They went after their horses and put them in the stable, after which -they borrowed a few blankets from Marion. Jimmy insisted that he be -allowed to stand guard with them, but Hashknife decreed that Jimmy -sleep in the house, while Sleepy rolled in his blankets at the hay-mow -window of the stable, which, since the bunk-house was no more, gave -him a fair view of the patio and rear of the house. Hashknife went out -about a hundred feet from the front of the house, and coiled up in his -blankets in the cover of a mesquite, where he could watch the front of -the ranch-house. But nothing came, except the cold, gray dawn, which -was a long time coming.</p> - -<p>There was an exodus from Blue Wells, when the news of the dynamiting -reached there, and the Double Bar 8 held a great gathering of the -cattle-clan, who came to view the ruins and to give an opinion. Some -of them seemed to think that perhaps Apostle Paul Taylor had had some -dynamite stored in the bunk-house, and that it had exploded.</p> - -<p>Tex Alden came and viewed the ruins with gloomy eyes; Barnhardt -perched on a pile of adobe and crumbled the clay between his fingers, -and looked wise. The sheriff talked to every one who seemed to have -any kind of a theory—and knew no more about it than he did when he -came.</p> - -<p>The women grouped around Marion, and “Oh’d” and “Ah’d,” like a lot of -old hens clucking over a sudden fright. Hashknife said nothing, but -listened much. Le Moyne came to him and tried to find out what -Hashknife thought about it, but went away with the feeling that this -tall cowboy knew less than any of them.</p> - -<p>With Le Moyne was Dug Haley, who quarreled loudly with Al Porter over -what dynamite would or would not do. Sleepy Stevens horned into the -argument with a dissertation on “the dynamic principles of -combustion,” in which he used the words “epiglottis,” “atomizer” and -“dogmatic” numberless times; much to the confusion of Al Porter, who -was forced to admit that all he knew about dynamite was that “the —— -stuff busts and raises ——.”</p> - -<p>It was not often that Antelope Neal, owner of the Oasis, went out of -Blue Wells, but he did ride down to see what had happened to the -Double Bar 8. Neal was a small, gray-haired man, who seldom had -anything to say. He was a square gambler, and was respected as such in -Blue Wells.</p> - -<p>Hashknife noticed that Tex Alden and Antelope Neal stood apart from -the crowd for quite a while, talking confidentially, eying him at -times, and causing Hashknife to suspect that he was the subject of -their conversation.</p> - -<p>When the crowd began to thin out, it seemed that Tex tried to start a -conversation with Marion, but she evidently preferred the attention of -Jimmy Legg, and Tex retired, his lips set in a thin line, his eyes -hard and speculative.</p> - -<p>Lee Barnhardt noticed that Marion had evaded Tex, and it seemed to -amuse the Blue Wells attorney. He sidled in beside Tex, who paid no -attention to him.</p> - -<p>“Tex, you’re not going to let a tenderfoot tramp cut you out, are -you?” he asked, possibly trying to be sympathetic.</p> - -<p>Tex’s action was almost as sudden as dynamite. He hooked his right -fist against Barnhardt’s jaw, knocking him almost through the patio -gate. Needless to say, Barnhardt stayed down. Tex stepped over to him, -glanced down, turned to the crowd and studied them coldly. Then, -without a word, he walked to his horse, mounted and rode away.</p> - -<p>Several men ran to Barnhardt and tried to help him to his feet; but -standing up was one thing that Barnhardt did not care about in the -least. He sagged weakly, goggle-eyed.</p> - -<p>“As cool as a cow-cumber,” said Al Porter.</p> - -<p>“Cucumber,” corrected Dug Haley.</p> - -<p>“I said what I meant!” snapped Porter. “If you wants to correct me on -vegetation, you better mean the same thing that I do.”</p> - -<p>“There’s been enough fightin’,” observed the sheriff. “Did anybody -hear what caused Tex to hit Barnhardt?”</p> - -<p>Nobody had. Some one secured a bucket of water, which they sluiced -over the helpless Barnhardt. It made a mess of him, but served to jolt -him back to consciousness. After a minute or two he was able to stand -on his feet, but his jaw did not function properly. Hashknife examined -it but found it was not broken.</p> - -<p>“Why did he hit yuh, Lee?” asked the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“Idnuk,” said Lee painfully. Interpreted, this might be construed to -mean “I don’t know.”</p> - -<p>And this was all the explanation he was willing to mumble. He went out -to his sway-backed horse, and headed for Blue Wells, riding slowly and -caressing his jaw.</p> - -<p>The sheriff was the last to leave, and he would have stayed longer, -except that the four cowboys from the AK ranch rode in. They had heard -of the dynamiting, in Blue Wells. The sheriff did not care for their -company; so he rode away.</p> - -<p>“My ——, that shore is another wreck of the Hesperus, ain’t she?” said -Eskimo Swensen. “Wham! I’ll betcha she made some noise.”</p> - -<p>“It came near being serious,” said Jimmy. Johnny Grant grinned widely -and slapped Jimmy on the back.</p> - -<p>“You derned hoodoo! It looks as though this was the third time they’d -tried to kill yuh off. I dunno what they’ll use next.”</p> - -<p>“Tie him on a railroad track,” suggested Oyster.</p> - -<p>Johnny drew Hashknife aside, and they sat down together on a pile of -shattered adobe bricks.</p> - -<p>“I’ve been wantin’ to talk with you, Hartley,” said Johnny seriously. -“Yo’re workin’ on this hold-up case, ain’t yuh?”</p> - -<p>“Well?” Hashknife admitted nothing.</p> - -<p>“I heard yuh was; so I’m goin’ to tell yuh what I know about it.”</p> - -<p>And while the other boys examined the wreckage, Johnny Grant told -Hashknife of that night in Blue Wells, when they got drunk and locked -the sheriff in his own cell. And of the incident at the train, when -they staged an impromptu battle with the engineer and fireman; not -knowing what it was all about.</p> - -<p>He told Hashknife of the man who came along the track in the dark, -went into the express car and got the dog.</p> - -<p>“Somebody cut our broncs loose that night,” said Johnny. “I understand -that the sheriff’s horses were also turned loose, and it kinda looks -as though it was done to prevent a posse from trailin’ ’em. Of course, -they wouldn’t know that Al Porter was in Encinas, visitin’ his girl, -and that the sheriff was in jail.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife grinned widely and thanked Johnny for his information.</p> - -<p>“Thasall right,” said Johnny. “Yo’re sure welcome. Yuh see, we don’t -care much for the sheriff and his deputy. They said we ought to be run -out of the country; so we kept still about what happened to us. But -when they jailed the Taylor outfit, I just got to thinkin’ that mebbe -our evidence might help to land the right ones. I didn’t want to give -it to Wade, the railroad detective, because he acted so —— smart; but -I’m givin’ it to’ you, because you—because I had a talk with Goode, -over at the X Bar 6.”</p> - -<p>“Well, that may not help us all the way out, but it’s somethin’ to -grab on to,” smiled Hashknife. “That feller Goode probably lied a lot -about us, but he means all right, I guess.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” confessed Johnny gravely, “he sure scared me into tellin’ yuh -all I knew.”</p> - -<p>“You look like a feller that scares easy,” grinned Hashknife. “I’ll -betcha all three of you fellers would run from a shadow.”</p> - -<p>“Well, yuh can’t do much damage to a shadow, yuh know. We’d like yuh -to know that if yuh need three fellers that are strong in the muscle -and weak in the head, yuh might call on us.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks, Grant. I reckon Nanah and Marion are cookin’ dinner, and if I -was you, I’d stick around for the meal. Marion wants to thank yuh for -offerin’ accommodations to us on the round-up.”</p> - -<p>“George Bonnette done that, Hartley. ’S funny Tex Alden didn’t offer -to take care of yuh.”</p> - -<p>“I reckon he’s sore about Jimmy bein’ here.”</p> - -<p>“M-m-m-m-m-m. Hartley, no matter what yore personal opinion is of Tex -Alden, he’s a white man, and a —— of a good cow-hand. Mebbe he’s kinda -off-color on account of carin’ a lot for that girl, but he’s a square -shooter—all the time.”</p> - -<p>“Yeah? He ordered Jimmy Legg to get out of the country. That night -Jimmy was shot, just after he had left Marion Taylor, at the front of -the Blue Wells hotel. A little later on, a shot from the hill out -there almost got him again.”</p> - -<p>“I know that,” Johnny shook his head. “If I was goin’ off at -half-cock, I’d nod toward Tex, wouldn’t you?”</p> - -<p>“I suppose I would, Grant—but I don’t.”</p> - -<p>“No? Well, that’s good. I talked with Tex the other day. He admits -that it looks as if he done it.”</p> - -<p>Marion called to them from the rear door, and they headed for the -wash-bench, dropping the subject of Tex Alden.</p> - -<p>And while they ate dinner at the Double Bar 8, Lee Barnhardt rode into -Blue Wells, stabled his horse and went to see the doctor, who did a -little to alleviate the pain in his jaw. Back in his office, he filled -his pipe and tried to enjoy a smoke, but flung the pipe aside, because -he couldn’t keep his mind on tobacco. It was the one time in his life -that Lee Barnhardt was thoroughly mad. Just now he hated everybody, -and everything— especially Tex Alden.</p> - -<p>And while his anger was at fever-heat, Scotty Olson, the sheriff, -walked into the office.</p> - -<p>“How’s yore jaw?” asked the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“None of your —— business!”</p> - -<p>The exclamation seemed to hurt Lee’s jaw, and he clapped a hand to the -side of his face, shutting one eye tightly.</p> - -<p>“I reckon it’s all well,” said the sheriff sarcastically. “Tex hit yuh -a dinger of a punch, didn’t he. I never did see a feller flatten out -prettier than you did. My ——, you was jist about as animated as a -scarecrow, after yuh pull the braces out of it! I asked Tex a while -ago why he hit yuh, and he said for me to ask you.”</p> - -<p>“And you came to ask me, did you?” Barnhardt was almost crying with -anger. “You haven’t a brain in your head.”</p> - -<p>“I thought there was a reason,” said the sheriff mildly. “Of course, -if he was jist doin’ it for fun—”</p> - -<p>“Fun, eh?” gritted Barnhardt. “I’ll make him think it was fun. He owes -the X Bar 6 eight thousand dollars, and he’ll pay it, or go to jail -for embezzlement. I’ll show him! And for your own information, I’ll -tell you that Tex knew the money for the Santa Rita was coming in on -that train.”</p> - -<p>“How did he know that, Lee?”</p> - -<p>“By ——, I told him it was!”</p> - -<p>“How did you know?”</p> - -<p>“I guessed it.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff sat down and studied the situation, while the lawyer -caressed his sore jaw and wondered if he was showing good judgment in -telling all this about Tex.</p> - -<p>“And you think Tex held up that train, Lee?”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t say that, Scotty.”</p> - -<p>“No, I know yuh didn’t; but yuh hinted at it. If Tex hears this, he’ll -hit yuh with somethin’ besides his fist.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose.” Lee looked gloomily at the wall, one eye half shut from -the pain in his jaw.</p> - -<p>Came the sound of a step at the doorway, and Tex Alden came in. -Barnhardt jerked up his head quickly and stared at the man who had -knocked him cold.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Scotty,” said Tex evenly.</p> - -<p>He did not speak to Barnhardt, as he came up to the lawyer’s desk, -drawing a bulky package from his pocket.</p> - -<p>“I owe yuh that much, Barnhardt,” Tex said coldly. “Mebbe yuh better -count it.”</p> - -<p>Barnhardt swallowed heavily, but made no move to pick up the money. -Tex eyed him for a moment, turned and walked out, without saying -anything more. Barnhardt shifted uneasily, but finally picked up the -package, walked to his small safe, opened it with a key, and put away -the package.</p> - -<p>He came back and sat down, making no explanation.</p> - -<p>“Tex wasn’t very cheerful,” observed Scotty.</p> - -<p>Barnhardt shook his head and sighed deeply.</p> - -<p>“I think I’ll take a little trip, Scotty; kinda get away until time -for that trial. I’ve been pretty steady on the job for two years, and -a little change would do me good.”</p> - -<p>“A change does anybody good,” admitted the sheriff. “I’d like to go -with yuh. What’ll yuh do, close yore office?”</p> - -<p>“I think so. I won’t be gone more than a week, but I think, under the -circumstances, I should go away until things clear a little.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose so, Lee.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff thought it would really be a wise thing for Barnhardt to -go away for a while, and he said so to Hashknife that evening, when -Hashknife stopped at the office for a few minutes. They were -discussing the incident at the Double Bar 8, and Hashknife wondered -how Barnhardt’s jaw was feeling. The sheriff told of Tex’s bringing a -package of money to Lee Barnhardt, and he also told Hashknife what -Barnhardt had said about Tex knowing about that shipment of money.</p> - -<p>“I wouldn’t tell that to anybody else,” said the sheriff. “But it -appears that you’re workin’ on the case, and yuh ought to know about -these things.”</p> - -<p>“When does Barnhardt intend to leave?” asked Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“He didn’t say; but I expect he’ll leave tomorrow. Between me and you, -he’s scared of Tex Alden, and he wants to git away for a few days to -let Tex cool off. Lee talks too —— much.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a human failin’,” smiled Hashknife.</p> - -<p>But Lee Barnhardt did not go on any trip. When he got up the following -morning he found that some one had opened his safe during the night, -and had looted it of everything it contained. The bank did not have a -safety vault; so Barnhardt found himself cleaned out, as everything he -owned was in his own safe.</p> - -<p>He sat down at his desk and stared at the empty valise, which he had -brought along and placed beside the safe. His clothes were packed in a -larger valise. He seemed stunned, his vacant gaze fixed upon the -half-open door of the safe.</p> - -<p>The fruits of two years’ work had been in that safe, when he locked -the office the night before. He had never feared a robbery, because a -lawyer’s safe usually only held papers, of no value to any one, except -to the lawyer.</p> - -<p>His dazed condition passed, leaving him in a state of perspiration. He -got to his feet and staggered over to the safe, peering within, trying -to convince himself that it was only a dream. He went to the front -door and gazed out at the street. It was fairly early in the morning, -and there were few people in evidence. He heard the train leave the -station; the train he had intended leaving on, and he turned away, -choking a curse.</p> - -<p>He went to his desk, and with shaking fingers he opened a drawer and -took out a revolver, which he put in his pocket. He unbuttoned his -vest, disclosing a narrow strap across his bosom, attesting to the -fact that he was wearing a shoulder-holster. Then he sat down, trying -to think just what to do.</p> - -<p>“I’ve got to find Tex Alden,” he told himself. “Tex saw me put that -money in my safe. —— him, he paid his debt before a witness, and then -took it back—took everything in the safe. If he don’t give it back to -me, I’ll kill him.”</p> - -<p>He flung the two valises behind his desk and walked to the door. Al -Porter was coming toward the office. Barnhardt tried to appear -indifferent, although he knew Porter would question him. As Porter -neared the office, Marion Taylor, Jimmy Legg and Sleepy came riding -down the street. Porter came up to Barnhardt, but did not speak, and -they watched the riders draw up in front of them.</p> - -<p>“Good morning, Mr. Barnhardt,” said Marion. “We looked for you at the -depot a while ago. Did you decide to not go away?”</p> - -<p>Barnhardt nodded dumbly, because he dared not speak.</p> - -<p>“Where’s the tall feller?” asked Porter.</p> - -<p>“He went away on the train,” said Sleepy, beginning the manufacture of -a cigaret.</p> - -<p>“Went away, eh? Gone to stay?”</p> - -<p>“No-o-o; just to Encinas.”</p> - -<p>Barnhardt swallowed heavily and tried to smile.</p> - -<p>“That’s where Al’s girl lives,” he offered.</p> - -<p>“He may see her,” replied Sleepy seriously.</p> - -<p>Porter stared at Sleepy, wondering if this innocent-eyed cowboy meant -anything by that remark.</p> - -<p>“We came in pretty early,” said Marion, “and I wonder if the sheriff -will let me in the jail.”</p> - -<p>“He’s in the office,” growled Porter. “I reckon he will.”</p> - -<p>They moved on toward the jail, and Porter turned angrily to Barnhardt.</p> - -<p>“That was a —— of a remark to make! You ain’t got no interest in my -girl, have yuh?”</p> - -<p>“Not a particle.”</p> - -<p>“Then never mind about her; <i>sabe</i>? You monkey with my business and -you’ll get worse than Tex Alden gave yuh.”</p> - -<p>“Did you come up here to pick a fight?” queried Barnhardt.</p> - -<p>“Any old time I look for trouble, I won’t pick out a —— wide-mouthed -lawyer, that’s a cinch.”</p> - -<p>Porter turned on his heel and went to the stable, where he saddled his -horse and rode out of town.</p> - -<p>Barnhardt waited until the three riders had left the sheriff’s office, -and then went down there. The sheriff looked quizzically at him.</p> - -<p>“I thought you was goin’ away this mornin’, Lee.”</p> - -<p>“Changed my mind,” said Barnhardt. “May go tomorrow.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff nodded and looked at some papers on his desk.</p> - -<p>“Hartley went away this mornin’,” offered Barnhardt.</p> - -<p>The sheriff looked up.</p> - -<p>“Yeah, they said he did; went to Encinas.”</p> - -<p>“Yes. I guess he expected me to go on the same train.”</p> - -<p>“Prob’ly did. I told him yuh was goin’ away this mornin’.”</p> - -<p>Barnhardt went back to his office, his mind still traveling in -circles. He knew what would happen if he accused Tex Alden of opening -the safe. Tex was hotheaded, and Barnhardt knew he could never best -Tex in any kind of a fair fight. If he accused Tex of theft, he’d -never get his money and papers back.</p> - -<p>So Barnhardt decided to wait and see, even if the waiting did gall his -soul. No one, except himself and the man who opened the safe, knew -that such a thing had been done. He had thought of having Tex -arrested, but decided that his evidence against Tex only consisted of -Tex’s knowing that the eight thousand was in the safe. Barnhardt had -counted the package of money, when he was alone, and it contained that -amount of currency.</p> - -<p>Sleepy, Jimmy and Marion did not ride back to the ranch on the road, -but circled through the hills. It was early morning, and they were in -no hurry to return. A coyote invited them to a race, and they gave him -what he was looking for. Only a barrier of mesquite, into which he -sped like a gray shadow, saved him from Sleepy’s loop.</p> - -<p>Flocks of white-wing doves hurtled past them, heading for the -water-holes; quail called from the slopes; a deer broke from a -thicket, and after a few short, stiff-legged jumps, headed up a slope, -head cocked back, walking jerkily.</p> - -<p>They were nearing the ranch when they described a flock of buzzards, -circling low over a little ravine, like scraps of black paper, caught -in the grip of a whirlwind.</p> - -<p>“Somebody lost a cow,” said Sleepy, “and it’s eatin’ time for Mr. -Buzzard.”</p> - -<p>“I hope it isn’t any of our stock,” said Marion. “We can’t afford to -feed any buzzards this year.”</p> - -<p>Jimmy evinced a desire to investigate; so he and Sleepy rode down to -the ravine, while Marion circled higher on the hill. The air suddenly -filled with flapping buzzards, croaking hoarsely; possibly swearing in -their own language on being interrupted at their morning meal.</p> - -<p>It was not a cow, but a horse, which lay at the bottom of the ravine; -a gray horse, partly eaten by buzzards, but with the brand still -showing. Sleepy quickly noticed that its right fore leg was broken -about half-way between knee and hock. Further investigation showed -that the animal had been shot through the head, and that the shooter -had held his gun so close that the powder had scorched the hair.</p> - -<p>“Broke a leg and had to be shot,” said Sleepy. “Not so very long ago.”</p> - -<p>They mounted and rode back to Marion, who had waited for them. Sleepy -explained what caused the buzzards to congregate.</p> - -<p>“What brand was on the animal?” she asked. Sleepy rubbed his nose -thoughtfully. “Well, it happens to be a Double Bar 8.”</p> - -<p>“One of our horses?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah—a gray. Weigh about a thousand. Got some dark spots on the rump, -and its fetlocks are almost black.”</p> - -<p>“Why, that horse belonged to Buck! He didn’t ride it often. But I -never heard Buck say anything about shooting it.”</p> - -<p>“And pretty close to home, too,” observed Jimmy.</p> - -<p>The little ravine where the horse lay was not over an eighth of a mile -from the Double Bar 8 stable.</p> - -<p>“If the wind had blown down from that direction, we’d ’a’ knowed it -before this,” grinned Sleepy.</p> - -<p>The discovery of this horse interested Sleepy. He felt sure that Buck -would have mentioned it at the ranch. The horse had either fallen into -the ravine and broke a leg or stepped into a hole. It was also very -evident that the rider had mercifully put the animal out of its -misery. And Sleepy wondered who, except some of the Taylor outfit, -would be riding a Double Bar 8 horse so near the ranch.</p> - -<p>He rode to Blue Wells that evening and met Hashknife, whom he told -about the dead horse. They found the sheriff at his office, and he let -them in to see Buck Taylor. Buck was glad to see them, but denied -knowing anything about the horse being dead.</p> - -<p>“I ain’t seen that horse for quite a while,” he said. “He wasn’t -exactly a good cow-horse; so I let him drift. Plenty of speed, but he -never seemed to <i>sabe</i> what it was all about. Who do yuh reckon killed -him?”</p> - -<p>“Somebody must ’a’ borrowed him, I s’pose,” said Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Well, I wish we was out of here,” sighed Buck. “With all this -shootin’ and dynamitin’, I sure hate to stay here. I’d like to find -the dirty snake that’s doin’ it all.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife and Sleepy left the jail and went to the livery-stable, -where they had left Hashknife’s horse that morning. Hashknife had -nothing to say about his trip to Encinas, and Sleepy knew that -questions were useless. Hashknife always worked on the theory that a -secret is safe only with one person.</p> - -<p>It was about ten o’clock when they approached the Double Bar 8, riding -silently. There was a light in the ranch-house window, and as they -drew closer they heard Jimmy’s and Marion’s voices blended in “After -the Ball,” accompanied by the old upright organ. The two cowboys drew -rein and listened. Off to the left of them a horse nickered softly. -They peered in that direction, thinking it was a loose horse.</p> - -<p>Then they went on, their horses making little noise in the sandy road, -and drew up just outside the patio entrance. They could hear Marion -and Jimmy laughing, as Marion tried to strike the right chord on the -old organ.</p> - -<p>Something prompted Hashknife to walk from his horse to the patio -entrance, where he stopped quickly. A man’s voice snapped a warning, a -streak of flame flashed toward him, and a bullet crashed into the -corner of the entrance.</p> - -<p>Two men were running toward the broken place in the wall, stumbling -over the débris. Hashknife drew his six-shooter and fired twice, -yelling at Sleepy to circle the wall. Another bullet whined off the -adobe wall near him, as he started across the patio, heading for where -the men had gone out.</p> - -<p>Sleepy had dismounted, and he did not think to mount and ride. In -fact, he hardly knew what it was all about. He ran around the wall and -almost collided with Hashknife, who sprang out through where the -dynamite had wrecked the wall.</p> - -<p>“What the —— was it?” panted Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“Sh-h-h-h-h!” whispered Hashknife. “Listen.”</p> - -<p>They stood against the ruined wall, straining their ears for the -slightest sound. Then they heard the distant thud of running horses, -growing fainter and fainter, as the riders faded away in the hills.</p> - -<p>Hashknife swore softly, as he told Sleepy of the two men. Some one had -extinguished the lamp in the ranch-house, and Sleepy called, telling -them that everything was all right.</p> - -<p>They found Marion and Jimmy on the back porch, and told them about the -two men who had shot at Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m a fine guard!” said Jimmy bitterly. “Sleepy told me to keep -an eye open. But we started singing, and—”</p> - -<p>“Oh, it’s all right,” laughed Hashknife. “Nobody hurt. If we’d only -gone over and investigated, when that horse nickered, Sleepy, we’d ’a’ -had ’em cinched. But I didn’t look for ’em to come back so soon. -That’s sure a puzzle. The further I go into this thing, the worse the -fog gets.</p> - -<p>“They wasn’t over here by the house. They could ’a’ looked in the -window and seen who was in there. They might ’a’ been waitin’ for us -to come back, but if they were, why did they let us walk in on ’em? I -heard one of ’em snap a warnin’; so it kinda looks as though they -didn’t expect us just then.”</p> - -<p>“Do you think you hit either one of them?” asked Jimmy nervously.</p> - -<p>Hashknife laughed.</p> - -<p>“I was shootin’ for general results. A man runnin’ in the dark, -jumpin’ through a broken wall, is a hard target. And when yuh hit a -man with a .45 in any spot, except his hands, arms, or the end of his -nose, he won’t go far; so I’ll admit that I missed ’em.”</p> - -<p>For the next two nights Hashknife and Sleepy guarded the place, but no -one came. The sheriff visited them, but they did not mention anything -about the latest development. Hashknife was very thoughtful all the -while, but admitted that he was getting nowhere in his deductions. He -talked with Marion about Tex Alden and Le Moyne, and she seemed -surprized when he told her that it was the general opinion that there -was a rivalry over her between Tex and Le Moyne.</p> - -<p>“Why, that is ridiculous,” she told Hashknife. “Mr. Le Moyne used to -drop in here once in a while, but he hasn’t been here for over a -month, except when they all came out to see the ruins of our -bunk-house.”</p> - -<p>“As far as Tex is concerned, the opinion ain’t far off, is it?”</p> - -<p>Marion flushed.</p> - -<p>“I liked Tex all right,” she admitted. “He is nice, as long as his -temper doesn’t run away with him. Tex has a bad temper, you know.”</p> - -<p>“And he hates Jimmy Legg, because Jimmy Legg happens to be here,” -observed Hashknife.</p> - -<p>Marion looked at Hashknife, her eyes puzzled. Then—</p> - -<p>“You don’t think Tex was the one—” she hesitated.</p> - -<p>“That tried to kill Jimmy?” Hashknife finished for her.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Tex couldn’t do a thing like that, Hashknife!”</p> - -<p>“No?” Hashknife smiled slowly. “Yuh don’t think so?”</p> - -<p>Marion shook her head quickly.</p> - -<p>“Not even if he was mad. He might be mad enough for a moment to kill -some one, but not to shoot from ambush.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” grinned Hashknife, “I’ll have to mark Tex Alden off my list of -customers. It seems that Tex lost eight thousand dollars to Antelope -Neal, in a poker game. This was before we came here. Now I’ve been -wonderin’ how Tex could afford it.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I heard about it, Hashknife. Tex works on a salary—the salary of -a foreman—and he surely couldn’t afford to lose that amount of money. -In fact, I don’t see where he got it.”</p> - -<p>“I know where he got it,” smiled Hashknife. “But I don’t see where -he’ll ever be able to pay it back.”</p> - -<p>Further than that Hashknife would not say, although Marion was curious -to hear more about Tex Alden.</p> - -<p>That evening Hashknife and Sleepy decided to visit Blue Wells, and -talked things over with Jimmy.</p> - -<p>“We may be back late,” explained Hashknife. “There’s a two-barreled -shotgun in the house, and I saw some shells on a shelf in the kitchen. -You load that gun, Jimmy, and keep it handy. Lock all the doors, and -be sure that every curtain is down. I don’t look for any trouble, but -yuh never can tell.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll take care of everything,” declared Jimmy. “And I’m not afraid. -If anybody comes fooling around here tonight, I’ll give them a -surprize. I’ll make it a point to keep awake.”</p> - -<p>They rode to Blue Wells after dark that night, and found the three -boys fiom the AK at the Oasis. Being Saturday night, there was quite a -crowd in town, and the games were flourishing. Johnny Grant, Oyster -Shell and Eskimo Swensen welcomed Hashknife and Sleepy with open arms.</p> - -<p>Tex Alden, Plenty Goode and Ed Gast were in from the X Bar 6. Tex was -cordial, and talked with Hashknife about the dynamiting. Hashknife -knew that Tex was wondering where Jimmy Legg was, and finally Tex -asked him if Marion wasn’t afraid to stay at the ranch with only the -Indian woman.</p> - -<p>“Jimmy’s out there,” said Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“Do yuh call that protection, Hartley?”</p> - -<p>Hashknife smiled, but said nothing. He was thinking of Jimmy and the -short, ten-gauge Parker. Le Moyne and several of the men from the -Santa Rita mine were in town. In the course of the evening Hashknife -sat in on a poker game, in which Tex Alden, Plenty Goode, Johnny -Grant, Scotty Olson and Antelope Neal tried to outguess each other in -the pastime. Sleepy and Oyster Shell quarreled for hours over a -bottle-pool game, which was being refereed by Eskimo Swensen, who had -an injured hand, and was unable to play.</p> - -<p>It was within an hour of daylight when Hashknife drew out of the poker -game. He had won enough to make it worth his while, and Antelope Neal -said he had never been more willing to cash in any man’s chips and -have his luck out of the game.</p> - -<p>Sleepy was glad to go home.</p> - -<p>“I’ve walked a hundred miles around that darned pool table,” he -declared, as they left the Oasis. “A pile of blankets will look like a -bank-roll to me.”</p> - -<p>There was a cold breeze blowing as they rode back to the Double Bar 8, -and the crimson glow of the rising sun painted the crests of the -eastern hills, as they rode in at the stable and put up their horses.</p> - -<p>“Well, it don’t look like any more dynamitin’ had been done since we -left,” observed Sleepy, as they walked across the patio toward the -rear door of the ranch-house.</p> - -<p>“All is serene,” said Hashknife, and as he spoke Nanah came to the -doorway.</p> - -<p>The Indian woman was a pitiful sight. Her face was streaked with -blood, her dress torn, and she staggered wearily.</p> - -<p>“For —— sake!” gasped Hashknife. He took her by the shoulders. “What’s -wrong, Nanah? What happened to you? Where’s Marion and Jimmy?”</p> - -<p>There was blood on her hair, and Hashknife could see that a livid welt -ran from her right temple and disappeared in her mop of disheveled -black hair.</p> - -<p>“I do’ know,” she choked. “Men come,” she brushed her hand across her -eyes, as though to clear her vision. “Have rag on faces. Knock Jimmy -down. Take Marion, go that way.” She leaned one shoulder heavily on -Hashknife and pointed east.</p> - -<p>“Yuh mean that masked men came and took Marion?”</p> - -<p>She nodded dumbly. Hashknife led her to a chair and made her sit down. -The room showed signs of a struggle, and there were a number of blood -stains on the floor and walls.</p> - -<p>“What does it mean, Hashknife?” queried Sleepy anxiously.</p> - -<p>“Where’s Jimmy?” asked Hashknife. Nanah shook her head. She didn’t -know where he was.</p> - -<p>“I hear much noise,” she said dumbly. “I come. Jimmy on floor. I run -to door. Man hit me.” Her hand went to her head. “I fall on floor. I -do’ know. I look from window, I see.”</p> - -<p>“You saw ’em goin’ that way?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“How many men, Nanah?”</p> - -<p>“I do’ know. I can’t see very good. Too much blood.”</p> - -<p>“How long ago, Nanah?”</p> - -<p>“I do’ know. Pretty sick in head.”</p> - -<p>“She got an awful wallop,” said Sleepy. “Prob’ly got to the window, -saw ’em pullin’ out, and collapsed. What’s the program?”</p> - -<p>Hashknife ran through the house and came back.</p> - -<p>“The shotgun is gone,” he said. “They’ve taken Marion toward Broken -Cañon, but the devil only knows just where. Nanah, are you all right? -We’ve got to get help. You stay here.”</p> - -<p>“Pretty good,” she said. “You go quick.”</p> - -<p>They ran back to the stable and saddled their horses. The horses -seemed to sense the need of speed, and the two boys mounted on the -run. Sleepy stood in his stirrups, his lips opened in a soundless -yell. This was action. They swung around the point of a hill, heading -up through a swale, a mile or more from the ranch-house. Hashknife -spurred in close to Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“Get the sheriff and all the boys yuh can get together, and head for -Broken Cañon, Sleepy. I’m goin’ back.”</p> - -<p>Sleepy did not question him. He had spent too many years with -Hashknife to question any action of the tall cowboy. He merely nodded, -drew his hat down over his brow and headed for Blue Wells to gather a -posse, while Hashknife drew rein, turned around and went back.</p> - -<p>The poker game had just broken up, when Sleepy dropped off his horse -at the door of the Oasis, and panted out his story.</p> - -<p>“Good ——!” exclaimed Tex Alden. “There’s more than one -hole-in-the-ground in Broken Cañon! Let’s go!”</p> - -<p>Scotty Olson, the sheriff, got his horse, and they rode out of Blue -Wells, nine strong; Olson, Sleepy, Tex, Gast, Goode, Johnny Grant, -Eskimo and Oyster Shell. There was nothing for them to work on, except -that Nanah had said that the men had gone toward Broken Cañon.</p> - -<h2>XIII—CAPTURED</h2> - -<p>It would have been difficult for any of Jimmy’s friends to have -recognized him, unless they examined him closely. His face was -plastered with gore, one eye swelled shut and his lip cut. He had no -hat, one sleeve of his shirt flapped behind him, like a streamer tied -to his shoulder. He had no saddle. In the crook of one elbow he -carried the heavy, double-barrel shotgun. That was the extent of his -armament. It was the first time he had ever ridden a bareback horse, -and he was having plenty of difficulty in staying on the animal’s -back.</p> - -<p>Jimmy was still in a daze—but a very determined sort of a daze. All -night long he had stayed awake, guarding the ranch-house. Dawn was in -sight when he dozed, only to be awakened by a knock on the back door.</p> - -<p>“Is that you, Hashknife?” he had asked, and it seemed to him that an -affirmative reply had been given. At any rate he had opened the door, -only to find himself confronted by three masked men. And before he had -time to move, one of the men struck him across the head with a gun -barrel, knocking him down. But the blow was a glancing one, and did -not knock him out.</p> - -<p>Badly dazed he got to his feet, trying to fight, and one of the men -drove several smashing blows to his head and face, knocking him out. -He had little idea of what happened after that, until returning -consciousness gave him a blurred vision of these men taking Marion out -of the house. He had tried to get up, but his limbs refused to -function.</p> - -<p>He saw Nanah crawl to a window, where she managed to look out, before -she crumpled to the floor. It seemed years to him before he could get -to the window, but his vision had cleared sufficiently to enable him -to see the riders going away.</p> - -<p>Summoning up every bit of his courage, he secured the shotgun, and -managed to stagger to the stable, where he bridled a horse, crawled on -its back, and followed them. He was like a man riding through a fog. -He had no idea of direction. With his right hand he tried to wipe the -blood out of his eyes, but gave it up.</p> - -<p>He remembered that there were three men. But that did not matter. He -had two cartridges in that shotgun, and he could use the gun as a -club, after those shots were gone, he decided. He was no longer the -smiling James Eaton Legg, but Jimmy Legg—cowboy. The bookkeeper was -gone entirely, and in his place was a bloody-faced young man, who -wanted to kill somebody with a shotgun.</p> - -<p>Jimmy did not know how long he had ridden. The sun was shining, and -his head ached badly. He wanted to stop and lie down, but he kept on -going, laughing grimly to himself. The horse stopped, and Jimmy -realized that it was standing on the edge of a cañon. He did not know -that this was Broken Cañon. Names meant nothing to him. The horse -turned to the right and followed the cañon rim. At times they swung -far to the right, passing around the head of tributary cañons, but -always coming back to the main cañon rim.</p> - -<p>Jimmy’s reason was coming back to him now, but it only made the -incidents more vivid in his mind. He realized that he had left his -six-shooter at the ranch, and that the two cartridges in his gun were -all he had.</p> - -<p>The horse picked its way among a piled-up mass of big rocks and -tangled brush, and came out on sort of mesa. The cañon widened here, -its depths purple and gold in the rising sun. On the far side of the -cañon were sandstone minarets, gleaming gold-like at the top, banded -with red, fading into a deep purple below the sun-line.</p> - -<p>But Jimmy had no eyes for the beauties of the sunrise. He could see -several people near the cañon rim, a quarter of a mile away, their -horses etched in relief against the gray of a huge upthrust slab of -gray stone. Then he saw two of the riders turn and ride directly away -from the cañon, going at a swift gallop.</p> - -<p>He saw the others ride out of sight, as if going down into the cañon. -Jimmy felt sure that the first two were men, and if Marion was one of -the party, she must have been one of those to go into the cañon. He -spurred his horse down through the tangle of brush, heading for that -huge gray slab, regardless of mesquite, cactus and other thorny things -that tore at his legs.</p> - -<p>He reached the spot, and found that a trail led down into the cañon, -partly masked by the granite cliff. He could see where it disappeared -around a sharp corner, and he wondered how any one could ride down -there without being scraped off. But he knew there was only one thing -to do—and that was to head down the trail. Clutching the mane of the -horse in one hand, and holding his precious shotgun close to his body, -he spurred the horse down the narrow trail, leaning away from the -cañon depth, but letting the horse take its own gait.</p> - -<p>Jimmy had little time to do any observation work. In fact, he had -almost forgotten that he was following any one, as his mind was wholly -taken up in fear of this rough trail. Suddenly he realized that he was -almost at the bottom. He could see the piled-up boulders in the -bottom, the glint of a small stream.</p> - -<p>His horse slipped, and its pawing hoofs sent a shower of stones off -the trail, crashing down through the dry foliage, rattling off the -rocks at the bottom. Jimmy had slipped to its rump, but managed to -claw his way back. He had dropped his reins, but was not making any -effort to recover them for fear of frightening the horse.</p> - -<p>Suddenly he felt a tug at his leg, and the horse seemed to fairly fall -from under him, while the crash of a shot echoed back and forth from -the sides of the cañon. Jimmy sprawled above the horse, falling across -his shotgun. For several moments he did not move. Then he drew up his -left leg. The bullet had scored him slightly just above the knee-cap, -doing little damage.</p> - -<p>He tried to crawl away, but the bank was too steep. He turned over on -his back, twisting sideways, trying to see below him, but could see -nobody. Ignorantly inviting another shot, he crawled to his feet and -stepped down past the horse, which was so badly hurt that it scarcely -moved. Another shot crashed out, the bullet passing so close to Jimmy -that he wasn’t sure it did not hit him. Instinctively jerking aside, -his feet flew from under him, and he cascaded down to the bottom of -the cañon, taking a conglomeration of brush and rocks with him, which -slowed up his progress enough to enable him to reach the bottom, -uninjured, except for numerous cuts and bruises and the sacrifice of a -goodly portion of his raiment.</p> - -<p>But he clung to his shotgun. Nothing short of general cataclysm would -make Jimmy Legg let loose of that gun. It was his one hope. He landed -in a clump of huge boulders, while over him poured more gravel and -rubbish, which had followed in his wake.</p> - -<p>In fact, he was so covered with débris that the masked man, holding a -ready rifle, who came looking for a dead man, did not see him for a -few moments. This man stepped cautiously up on a ledge of rock, about -a hundred feet from the sand and brush that covered Jimmy, who lifted -the shotgun, pointed it in his general direction and pulled the -trigger.</p> - -<p>The big shotgun roared like a cannon, kicked Jimmy so hard that it -fairly dusted him off. He got to his feet, panting the breath back -into his tortured lungs, as he surged forward, looking for -concealment. The man dropped off the rock, with a yelp of amazement, -possibly tinged with injury. A dozen buckshot are not to be faced -lightly.</p> - -<p>Jimmy landed behind a boulder, rubbed his shoulder, which was numb -from the recoil of the shotgun, and began crawling ahead. He peered -over a boulder, and a bullet filled his eyes with rock-dust.</p> - -<p>“I guess I didn’t kill him,” observed Jimmy, and angled his way to -another boulder. He had only one shot left now. Another boulder seemed -to beckon him, and a bullet struck just short of him, cutting his -right cheek with flying gravel. Jimmy curled up behind the boulder and -took stock of himself.</p> - -<p>“This won’t do,” he decided. “I’m doing all the moving. If I could -only get to that boulder, I could crawl up the other side and be on a -level with him.”</p> - -<p>It was a long chance, but Jimmy took it, and he sprawled in behind the -cover of brush and rocks, while a ricocheting bullet hummed away up -the cañon, like an angry bee. The heavy screen of brush enabled him to -crawl up out of the watercourse, and it seemed that this was just what -the other man did not want, because he sent bullet after bullet -through the brush, picking spots at intervals of a few feet.</p> - -<p>But in spite of his bombardment, Jimmy reached the top of the washout, -where he sprawled on his face, panting heavily. The man put a few more -bullets through the brush, which proved to Jimmy that the shooter did -not know that he had reached the top.</p> - -<p>Jimmy’s face was bleeding badly, and his mouth was salty from sweat -and gore. He found that his leg wound was also bleeding considerably, -but gave him little pain. He took time to wrap his handkerchief around -it to keep out the dirt.</p> - -<p>Then he began crawling again, snaking his way through the brush, -trying to see the man who wanted to kill him. He came to the fringe of -the brush, and peered out. He could see the man now; that is, he could -see his head and shoulders and rifle. He was still watching the place -where Jimmy had dropped behind the boulder, before climbing out of the -washout.</p> - -<p>Farther down the cañon he could see the two horses, and on one was the -figure of a girl, evidently roped tightly, because she was having -difficulty in looking back toward the scene of conflict.</p> - -<p>Jimmy studied the man, and tried to map out a plan of attack. He was -about a hundred feet away, but Jimmy thought the target too small to -take a chance on his remaining shot. He saw the man look back toward -the horses. He was evidently getting impatient. Brush grew fairly -heavy along the slope, and Jimmy pondered the chances he might have to -work his way to the horses without being seen. It would be a dangerous -move, he decided. Anyway, he liked the cover of the boulder-strewn -brush, and as long as the man was willing to wait, he would, too.</p> - -<p>He saw the man take off his hat and lift it above the top of the rock. -It rather puzzled Jimmy. He jerked it down quickly. Then he exposed it -in another place. It suddenly struck Jimmy that this man was trying to -draw his fire, and his blood-caked features cracked into a grin.</p> - -<p>An insane desire to yell at this man gripped at him. He wanted to -laugh, to joke this man. But his better judgment bade him be still. He -saw the man move forward to another boulder, where he repeated the -cap-lifting. Jimmy realized that this man was getting impatient to -have the fight finished.</p> - -<p>The man kept moving ahead, until he was masked from Jimmy, who crawled -out of the brush and headed for the rim of the washout again, trading -sides with the other man. For about thirty feet Jimmy crawled swiftly, -dropped behind some cover and waited.</p> - -<p>It was about five minutes later that he saw the man again. He had -moved farther up the cañon, possibly thinking that Jimmy had made his -escape. By standing up, Jimmy could get a good look at this man, who -was too far away for Jimmy to take a chance with the shotgun; so Jimmy -dropped back into the washout, bent down low and headed in the general -direction of the horses.</p> - -<p>But he had not escaped detection. A bullet sang past his ear, and he -stumbled over a boulder, falling sidewise into a cut on the left-hand -side of the washout. To the shooter, it possibly appeared as if he had -been struck. Jimmy was half-standing, half-lying in the cut, when he -heard the drumming of footsteps, as the man hurried forward. There was -no chance of concealment there.</p> - -<p>It seemed as if the man were almost over him, when he raised up, -shoving the shotgun barrel over the rim of the washout. The man jerked -to a stop, only fifty feet away, firing his rifle from his hip, just -as Jimmy pressed the trigger. The bullet struck just in front of -Jimmy’s face, filling his nose, eyes and mouth with dirt, and the kick -of the shotgun sent him running backward down the short slope, where -he hooked his heel on a rock, and sprawled on his back.</p> - -<p>It was several moments before he could get up. He felt weak, -nauseated, as he spat out the dirt, blinked tearfully and climbed to -the top of the washout. Out there on the flat ground was the man, -sprawling on his face, his rifle flung aside.</p> - -<p>Jimmy did not go near him. He sighed heavily and headed for the -horses, where Marion’s white face and astonished eyes drove every -other thought from his mind. Neither of them spoke as he cut the ropes -which bound her, and she got stiffly from the saddle, clinging to him.</p> - -<p>“You—you came, didn’t you, Jimmy?” she whispered hoarsely.</p> - -<p>“Yea-a-ah, I sure did.” Jimmy grinned on one side of his face, because -the other was glued tightly with gore. “It was quite a trip. This has -been a tough season, Marion.”</p> - -<p>It was rather inane conversation, but under the circumstances it was -excusable.</p> - -<p>The man was trying to sit up, and Marion pointed to him breathlessly. -Jimmy went staggering out to him, a loose-jointed young man, who had -been hurt so many times that he was numb all over. He picked up the -rifle and stepped back, tottering on his feet.</p> - -<p>“You better stay where you are,” he told the masked man. “You ain’t so -awful tough.”</p> - -<p>Jimmy had heard Johnny Grant use that expression, and it seemed to fit -the occasion. He turned his head and called to Marion.</p> - -<p>“Can you lead the horses up here, Marion? We’ve got to pack this -lead-filled person to a doctor, or he won’t live to be hung.”</p> - -<h2>XIV—WHO GOT THE PAY-ROLL?</h2> - -<p>When Hashknife turned back to the Double Bar 8 it was because of a -single theory. He was fairly positive that Marion had not been -kidnaped by those men because they wanted her; but that they had had -reasons of more importance to them than the mere capture of a young -lady. Hashknife wasn’t sure just what this was, but he had a -suspicion—at least, enough suspicion to send him back to the ranch, -instead of heading a posse over to the breaks of Broken Cañon.</p> - -<p>He rode his horse into the stable, unsaddled quickly, turned it into -the corral, and ran to the house, where he found Nanah, bathing her -head in a basin of water. He explained to her the necessity of locking -the house, covering the windows, and of keeping out of sight.</p> - -<p>Without question she obeyed him, and he went back to the stable, -climbed to the little loft and sprawled near the window, concealed by -a screen of hay. He could not see over the ranch-house, except at a -distance, but his little window gave him a fairly good view of the -country toward Broken Cañon.</p> - -<p>Apollo wandered about the patio, possibly wondering why no one was -about. Mocking-birds sang from the twisted vines along the walls, and -little lizards scuttled here and there over the débris of the former -bunk-house. Hashknife yawned and waited, wondering what success Sleepy -had had in gathering a posse.</p> - -<p>He had been there over an hour, when his keen eyes detected two -riders, who seemed to be coming swiftly toward the ranch from the -northeast. Blue Wells was almost directly north. He wondered if some -of the posse had turned back from going to Broken Cañon and were -coming to the ranch.</p> - -<p>When about a mile from the ranch they swung due west, passing from -Hashknife’s vision. He went to the rear of the loft, and peered from a -crack. The riders came into sight, swinging in toward the ranch again, -but disappeared into the cañon where Hashknife had captured Plenty -Goode, following the mysterious shot from the hill.</p> - -<p>It took them several minutes to cross the cañon, and he saw them draw -rein in the heavy cover, where they stayed for about five minutes, -evidently studying the ranch buildings. Their elevation gave them a -good view of the whole country.</p> - -<p>Finally they rode down toward the stable. Hashknife was unable to -recognize them, nor did he recognize their horses—a roan and a gray. -Softly Hashknife went back to his former position at the window. He -heard the riders come in behind the stable, where they stopped. After -a few moments he heard them in the stable, talking softly. One of them -laughed, but their conversation was too indistinct for Hashknife to -hear what was said.</p> - -<p>He was so intent on listening that he was not aware they were out of -the stable, until he turned his head and saw them going into the -patio.</p> - -<p>It rather amused Hashknife to see that these men were both masked. One -of them went to the ranch-house door, finding it locked. It was -evident to Hashknife that these men were sure that every one had left -the ranch. They conferred together for a moment, and one of them came -toward Hashknife, stopping on the ruins of the bunk-house, while the -other man swung up on the wall near the corner of the ranch-house and -scanned the country.</p> - -<p>Slowly Hashknife slid back across the floor, until he reached the -ladder, which led down from the loft. He went down the ladder and -walked softly to the door, where he peered around the edge. He could -hear the sound of some one digging; the dull thud of adobe bricks -being thrown aside, but he could not see either of the men now.</p> - -<p>Drawing his six-shooter Hashknife went slowly and carefully across the -space between the stable door and the patio wall. He could hear the -digging plainly now. Then he heard one of the men snap out a curse. It -was evidently the man on the wall, because the answering voice was -just beyond—</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter?”</p> - -<p>“That —— posse must ’a’ seen us! They’re comin’!”</p> - -<p>The two men were running now, and Hashknife expected them to come -through the broken wall past him, but instead they went out the south -entrance of the patio, possibly with the intention of keeping the -ranch buildings between them and the approaching posse, and circling -back to their horses.</p> - -<p>Disregarding the fact that the odds were two to one, Hashknife ran -swiftly along the wall, coming out within fifty feet of the two men, -who were humped over, running as low as possible. There was no time -for them to turn; nothing to do but fight or surrender. It was still a -hundred feet to the cover of the brush, and Hashknife was between them -and the stable. But neither of them thought of surrender. Hashknife -fired, as the two men whirled to a stop and drew their guns. One of -them went to his knees, and his bullet tore up a spurt of dust -half-way between him and Hashknife, and the other man’s bullet sang -wide of its target. He fired again, but his bullet went skyward, -because the shock of Hashknife’s next bullet threw him backward. The -man who was on his knees fired again, but so wildly that Hashknife did -not even hear the bullet.</p> - -<p>Then he tried to get to his feet, pitched forward on his face and lay -still. The other man did not move, except that he half turned over. -Hashknife went slowly up to them, his jaw shut grimly. He had shot -deliberately, slowly—only twice. Even with the two-to-one odds, the -advantage had been with him, because he had been ready for the battle.</p> - -<p>Hashknife did not make any examination of the men. He heard the -drumming of hoofs, as the posse rode up, and in a few moments they -were surrounded by excited men—the nine men who had ridden out of Blue -Wells with Sleepy.</p> - -<p>“My ——, it’s Al Porter and Chet Le Moyne!” exclaimed the sheriff, -tearing the masks off the two men. “Hartley, what does this mean?”</p> - -<p>He came to Hashknife, gripping his arm. “It means that an officer of -the law went wrong,” said Hashknife coldly.</p> - -<p>“But how?” demanded the excited sheriff. “My ——, this needs more -explanation than that, Hartley.”</p> - -<p>“Go easy,” advised Sleepy, who turned to Hashknife. “We wasn’t quite -to the Broken Cañon, when we spotted these two riders. They were -headin’ this way, foggin’ to beat ——; so we follered.”</p> - -<p>“Good thing yuh did, Sleepy.”</p> - -<p>Questions volleyed at Hashknife, while others examined Le Moyne and -Porter, but Hashknife brushed them all aside.</p> - -<p>“They’re both as dead as herrin’,” said Johnny Grant.</p> - -<p>Two more riders came—Antelope Neal and Lee Barnhardt.</p> - -<p>“We missed the posse; so came here to see what we could do to help,” -said Neal.</p> - -<p>Barnhardt squinted at the dead men, but said nothing.</p> - -<p>“Will yuh please tell us what it means?” asked the sheriff. “You ain’t -told anythin’ yet, yuh know, Hartley.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife smiled grimly.</p> - -<p>“There ain’t much to tell, Scotty. These men came here, wearin’ masks. -They tried to get away when they saw yuh comin’, but I blocked ’em, -and we shot it out.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I can see that! But—”</p> - -<p>“Good ——! Here comes some more!” Johnny Grant’s yell turned all -interest away from Hashknife.</p> - -<p>It was Marion and Jimmy on one horse, leading another horse, on which -was roped a swaying figure of a man, his body slouched forward until -his face was almost buried in his chest. Jimmy was riding behind -Marion, clinging to her, while he swayed weakly, a silly smile on his -dirty face.</p> - -<p>Men ran to them, while others unroped the sagging figure on the other -horse. It was Dug Haley, of the Santa Rita mine. He was conscious, but -unable to stand. Willing hands lifted Jimmy off the horse, but his -left leg was too sore for him to stand on it for several moments.</p> - -<p>“I—I got him,” Jimmy told Hashknife hoarsely. “Filled him full of -shot. We had a regular battle down in the cañon.”</p> - -<p>The sheriff was goggling from one to another, trying to get things -straightened out to his own mind. Hashknife went to Marion.</p> - -<p>“Tell us what you know about it, Marion,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know very much, Hashknife. Three masked men came, and -they—I heard the noise, when they fought with Jimmy, and came out to -see what it was about. They had knocked him down, and I thought he was -dead.</p> - -<p>“They told me to not be afraid, and that everything would be all -right. It seems that I wasn’t to be hurt. They put me on a horse, and -we went to Broken Cañon, where two of the men turned back. They were -masked all the time; so I wasn’t just sure who they were, because they -changed their voices.</p> - -<p>“One man took me down into the cañon, and I think he heard Jimmy -coming. Anyway, he tied the horses and went back toward the bottom of -the trail. I heard a lot of shooting, and I was sure somebody was -trying to help me, but I never thought it was Jimmy, until he shot Dug -Haley.</p> - -<p>“We had a hard time getting him on a horse, because Jimmy was so weak -he couldn’t help much. But we made it. We’ve got to get Jimmy to a -doctor, because he’s all cut to pieces.”</p> - -<p>Haley was sitting on the ground, goggling at every one. He had lost a -lot of blood, but his mind was clear. Hashknife saw him eying the -bodies of Le Moyne and Porter; so he stepped over to him.</p> - -<p>“Haley,” he said kindly, “the game is up. You better come clean, -because yo’re the last of the three men who stole that pay-roll. Al -Porter did not go to Encinas the night of the robbery, and more than -that, he and that girl of his busted up two months ago. Which one of -yuh rode Buck Taylor’s gray horse that night, and had to kill it up -there in that little cañon?”</p> - -<p>“That was me.” Haley spoke hoarsely.</p> - -<p>“Oh, ——, I might as well admit it. Le Moyne schemed it, and we helped -him. But our luck broke bad. Le Moyne had to be at the depot when the -train came in, and Porter had to be on the other side of Broken Cañon -to pick up a freight early in the mornin’—or when one come along; so -it was up to me to take the money to Santa Rita, where we was goin’ to -hide it.</p> - -<p>“I kinda got off in my bearing, in the dark, and found myself too far -south. Then that —— gray horse fell and busted a leg. I had to kill -it, yuh see. Then I had all that-gold to carry. It wasn’t safe to -cache it in the hills, because I didn’t know the country well enough.”</p> - -<p>Haley smiled grimly.</p> - -<p>“I seen the light from the ranch-house, and I was sure it was the -Double Bar 8; so I packed the gold down here, lookin’ for a place to -hide it. Back of the bunk-house I found a hole under the foundation. I -scratched a match and looked it over. It wasn’t big enough for -anythin’ but a small dog to get through; so I shoved that money under -the bunk-house, and went back to the mine.”</p> - -<p>“And then dynamited the bunk-house, eh?” queried the sheriff.</p> - -<p>“Like ——, we did! That’s why we kidnaped the girl. We wanted to draw -everybody away; so we could dig the —— money out of the ruins. But we -wasn’t goin’ to hurt her. I was to keep her in the cañon until about -noon, and then let her come home. Our idea was to get Hartley and -Stevens away from here long enough to let us get the money.”</p> - -<p>“And it’s still under all that adobe, eh?” smiled Hashknife.</p> - -<p>“If Le Moyne and Porter didn’t get it out. I wish you’d get me to a -doctor. I’m full of buckshot. That —— tenderfoot! We didn’t count him -in a-tall.”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t need to be counted,” croaked Jimmy. “But what I want to know -is, who shot me, and who blew up the bunk-house?”</p> - -<p>Hashknife stepped over and put a hand on Barnhardt’s shoulder. The -Blue Wells attorney’s lips went white and he tried to draw away.</p> - -<p>“You tell ’em about it,” advised Hashknife. “Just be a man and speak -yore little piece, Barnhardt.”</p> - -<p>“Me?” whispered Barnhardt. “Why—why—I don’t know—”</p> - -<p>“Do yuh want me to tell it?”</p> - -<p>Barnhardt’s legs jiggled nervously and he wet his lips with his -tongue, while his Adam’s apple jiggled convulsively.</p> - -<p>“There’s nun-nothing to—to—”</p> - -<p>“Then I’ll tell it,” said Hashknife. “And if Mr. Barnhardt don’t stand -still, keep his hands where they are and not try to scratch his ribs -around the spot where his gun hangs in a shoulder-holster, I’ll betcha -somebody will add him to the list of casualties.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Barnhardt is a cousin of Mrs. Martha Eaton, of Chicago, who owns -this ranch. For several years Mr. Barnhardt has handled all the -affairs of the X Bar 6. In fact, he grew rich, handling her stock -interests. But she was a simple old lady, with quite extensive -holdings, and she had faith in Mr. Barnhardt.</p> - -<p>“Now, if I make any mistakes, I hope Mr. Barnhardt won’t interrupt, -until I’m finished. A short time ago Mrs. Eaton became an invalid, and -was unable to handle her own business. I reckon the doctors have told -her that she won’t live more than one year more.</p> - -<p>“Still bein’ of sound mind, she decided to make out a will, and in -this will she goes kinda hay-wire, like old folks do, sometimes; so -she picks out a young feller, whose name was James Eaton Legg, a son -of her sister, and wills him the X Bar 6, with the provision that -within a year he be able to present proof that he is capable of -runnin’ this here ranch.</p> - -<p>“And about that time she turns her affairs over to Leesom and Brand, a -law firm in Chicago, who, after lookin’ things over, decides that the -returns from the X Bar 6 need investigatin’. It kinda looks to them as -though that ranch ought to pay more dividends. Accordin’ to their -reports, there’s too many cows out here, and not enough revenue.</p> - -<p>“They takes it up with the Cattle Association of this here State, the -same of which sends me and Sleepy up here to work on the round-up and -send in a tally of the X Bar 6. It appears that Jimmy Legg -accidentally drifts in here, tryin’ make a cowpuncher out of himself; -and our friend Barnhardt, knowin’ that Jimmy might beat him out of a -lot of money, decides to put him out of commission.</p> - -<p>“And I’m not sure, but I think Mr. Barnhardt stole one of my letters -from the Chicago lawyers, and found out what we was doin’ here; so he -plants dynamite under the bunk-house, after he misses two well-meant -shots. Oh, he was a friendly sort of a jigger. Now, Barnhardt, tell us -yore story.”</p> - -<p>But the Blue Wells attorney merely goggled, trying to deny it all with -a shake of his head.</p> - -<p>“You planned to make a getaway, yuh know,” smiled Hashknife. “Yore -little vacation was goin’ to be permanent, but I cracked yore safe the -night before, because I knew yuh wouldn’t go away broke, and I wanted -time to land the train robbers. Yeah, I’ve got all yore stuff. It’ll -send yuh over for a long time.”</p> - -<p>“This is funny,” said Tex Alden. “I had a letter from that same firm, -askin’ me a few questions. It kinda looked to me as though Barnhardt -was playin’ crooked; so I held out that eight thousand and faked a -loss to Antelope Neal, who was in on the game with me. I wanted to see -if Barnhardt was crooked enough to doctor the books for me, but he was -pretty shrewd, and I really got afraid he might have me arrested for -embezzlement and put me in pretty bad; so me and Neal marked all those -bills and I gave ’em back to him.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife held out his hand to Tex.</p> - -<p>“I couldn’t figure yuh out for quite a while,” said Hashknife smiling.</p> - -<p>“Barnhardt sure tried to put me in bad, Hartley. He told me about that -pay-roll comin’ in, because he thought I’d do anythin’ to pay him back -that eight thousand, and he also wanted his split of the thirty -thousand dollars.”</p> - -<p>Jimmy had gone to the house, and now he came staggering back, followed -by Geronimo, barking joyfully. The sheriff turned from handcuffing -Barnhardt, and stared at the dog.</p> - -<p>“We had him in the cellar,” laughed Hashknife. “He’s the dog that was -on the express car, and Jimmy Legg is the big burly who fought with -the messenger.”</p> - -<p>The boys crowded around Jimmy, slapping him on the back; which, under -the circumstances, did not appeal to Jimmy, who was just beginning to -find out how sore he really was.</p> - -<p>“Lemme alone, you man-chasers!” he yelped. “I was tough for an hour or -so, but I’m sure tender now.”</p> - -<p>“Talks like a cowpuncher,” said Eskimo gravely.</p> - -<p>“Looks like a cowpuncher,” added Johnny.</p> - -<p>“Fights like one,” groaned Dug Haley. “When yuh get through throwin’ -bouquets, I wish you’d take me to a doctor.”</p> - -<p>Hashknife grinned at the wreck of what had been James Eaton Legg, the -bookkeeper, and nodded solemnly.</p> - -<p>“I reckon we’ll be able to tell Leesom and Brand that Jimmy Legg has -qualified,” he said earnestly.</p> - -<p>“And if I was Jimmy Legg, I’d put on some clothes,” said Sleepy. -“Cowboy, yo’re a fright.”</p> - -<p>Jimmy grinned, started toward the house, followed by Marion. But Jimmy -shoved her ahead of him, because he just remembered that he had slid -half-way down Broken Cañon, sitting down. Tex looked after them, a -half-smile on his face, as he turned to Hashknife.</p> - -<p>The posse was putting the bodies in the ranch wagon, and two of the -men were assisting the sheriff, who had put Dug Haley on the -wagon-seat, and was helping the dazed lawyer to mount his sway-backed -horse. The handcuffs bothered Barnhardt, and he was breathing like an -asthmatic.</p> - -<p>“You don’t act very sore about it,” said Hashknife, nodding toward -where Marion and Jimmy were disappearing into the house.</p> - -<p>Tex shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>“I know when I’m whipped,” he said, with just a trace of bitterness in -his voice. “It seems that Legg didn’t. If yuh want me to sign that -affidavit, regardin’ his ability, bring it around. Leesom and Brand -know I wouldn’t be fool enough to wish him on to me as a boss, unless -he was capable—and I’ll teach him all I know.”</p> - -<p>“That’s square enough,” nodded Hashknife. “Wait until I saddle my -bronc, and I’ll ride to Blue Wells with yuh. Me and Sleepy have got to -peddle a couple of horses before that train pulls through.”</p> - -<p>“Yo’re not leavin’ so soon, are yuh?”</p> - -<p>Marion and Jimmy were coming from the ranch-house, and with them was -Nanah, her head bandaged up. Geronimo circled them, barking with joy. -Jimmy was clad in a baggy pair of overalls and a shirt three sizes too -large for him. The face-washing operation had opened the cuts on -Jimmy’s face, and he was beginning to look like a war-path Indian.</p> - -<p>“We’ll all three ride in the buggy,” said Marion. “Jimmy is too weak -and sore to ride a horse, and Nanah won’t.”</p> - -<p>Tex offered to hitch up the horse, and Marion went with him to the -stable. Hashknife drew Jimmy aside.</p> - -<p>“I reckon you’ve made good, Jimmy,” Hashknife said slowly. “I’ll see -that the right report goes to Leesom and Brand. You’ll marry and -settle down on the X Bar 6, I reckon, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Marry and settle down?”</p> - -<p>“Yeah—sure. You’ll marry her, won’t yuh?”</p> - -<p>“Marion? Why—”</p> - -<p>Jimmy hesitated, his eyes turning toward the stable door, where Marion -and Tex were standing. Marion was looking down at the ground, but now -she looked up at him, a smile on her face. Tex started to reach toward -her, realized that he had an audience, and they both stepped inside -the stable. Jimmy grinned and shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Why, no, I don’t reckon I will, Hashknife. That whips me.”</p> - -<p>And Jimmy wondered why Hashknife laughed so suddenly and walked to his -horse. He did not know that Tex had admitted defeat, too. When the -buggy, with its three occupants started up the road toward Blue Wells, -with Tex Alden riding beside it, far in the distance they could see a -lone rider—Hashknife Hartley, riding swiftly to join Sleepy, that they -might dispose of their horses and catch the first train out of town. -Their work was done—and the other side of the hill was calling.</p> - -<div style='font-size:0.9em; border:1px solid silver; margin-bottom:2em; - margin-top:1.8em; margin-left:8%; width:80%; padding:0.4em 2%; - background-color:#EFF1F6; text-indent:0'> - Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the November 23, 1926 issue of - <i>Adventure</i> magazine. -</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BUCKAROO OF BLUE WELLS ***</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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