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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78842 ***
+
+
+                           A Scheme There Was
+
+                            by W. C. Tuttle
+            A Story of the Whittling Sheriff of Mohave Wells
+
+
+Buck Brady stopped whittling long enough to brush aside the damp lock of
+roan colored hair from his forehead and consider the two passengers on
+the Mohave Wells-Lone Mule stage. The girl did not look over eighteen;
+she had hair the color of spun gold, and a delicate oval face. Buck
+could not tell the color of her eyes at that distance, but he knew they
+were blue. She was wearing a blue dress.
+
+The man was possibly less than twenty-five, rather delicate looking, and
+his hair was of nearly the same color as the girl’s.
+
+Buck looked them over thoughtfully, a rather sad expression in his faded
+blue eyes. Buck was tall and lean, with a long face, high cheekbones and
+a mop of roan colored hair, one lock of which seemed always to hang down
+below the edge of his sombrero.
+
+Buck was the sheriff of that county. He was slow moving, slow of speech.
+He was barely thirty-five and looked forty-five. He never seemed in a
+hurry, always deliberate, yet there were men in the Mohave who swore
+Buck could draw a six-shooter and shoot it straight faster than a
+rattler could strike. But Buck’s obsession was whittling. Hour after
+hour he would sit in the shade of his little office, peeling off dainty
+spirals from soft pine. Whittling and meditating.
+
+As he considered the couple on the stage Larry Lebec, the driver, came
+from a store farther down the street, ready to start for Lone Mule City.
+
+“Hyah, Buck,” he drawled, stopping.
+
+“H’lo, Larry. Got a couple passengers, eh?”
+
+Larry spat thoughtfully, squinting against the sun.
+
+“Brother ’n’ sister—goin’ t’ Lone Mule, Buck. Ort t’ be a law agin it.”
+
+“Ort to be,” Buck said slowly. “Skinner?”
+
+“Yeah. I found out that much. Advertisin’ payin’ jobs for girls. Words
+it sweet and pretty. Brother expects to git a good job, too. Ain’t very
+well, he ain’t. Name’s Nestor. His name’s Harry and hers is Gladys. From
+the East. Gawd, why do them kind head for the desert—and Lone Mule?
+They’ll be helpless in Lone Mule. Skinner ’n’ Eley boss the damn’ place.
+I know Skinner.”
+
+“I know him,” slowly. “I know Eley, too. Pretty girl.”
+
+“Uh-huh. I done tried to tell ’em a few facts, but they don’t seem to
+_sabe_ my lingo. Mebbe I don’t _hablar_ English.”
+
+Buck sighed and wiped the blade of his knife along the top of his boot.
+
+“Skinner and Eley kinda boss Lone Mule, eh? Sheriff don’t do nothin’?”
+
+“That Gila Monster? Hell’s delight, Buck! All he does is git drunk.
+That’s why Skinner had him voted into office. Well, I’ve gotta be
+goin’.”
+
+Buck watched the stage pass the office, a strained expression about his
+eyes. It hurt Buck to see that girl going to Lone Mule City. He knew
+Lone Mule—a boom mining town, a regular hell town out there on the edge
+of the desert, bossed by Dave Skinner and Charley Eley, who owned all
+the liquor and honky-tonk privileges, owned a big interest in the Lone
+Mule mine, and ran the town to suit themselves.
+
+Buck knew that Skinner’s trouble was in getting girls for his
+honky-tonks and saloons. The regulars shied away. Living conditions were
+too crude, the remuneration too small. And Buck knew that Skinner had
+advertised in a clever way, mentioning the need of waitresses in his big
+café, as well as singers, and musicians—no previous experience
+necessary; and a good salary.
+
+That night at supper Buck told his wife about this girl. Buck seldom
+said anything against any man, but Skinner’s ethics had rubbed Buck the
+wrong way.
+
+“It ain’t none of my business,” he told his wife, “but it kinda gits me.
+I ain’t never willin’ly shot any man, and I hope I never will, but I
+wish Dave Skinner was triplets and I jist had three shells in my gun.”
+
+“Kind of a rattler, ain’t he, honey?” asked Mrs. Brady.
+
+“I wouldn’t go that far,” said Buck, attacking his meal, “’cause as far
+as I can figger out, a rattler is clean minded and strikes in
+self-defense.”
+
+“I’ve heard that them Lone Mule folks don’t like you, honey.”
+
+“Oh, they ain’t so dumb,” drawled Buck. “No, ma’am, I don’t reckon any
+of ’em would yell for help if they seen me fall in a well. They’d dump
+in a couple big rocks and call it a rescue.”
+
+Buck was right. Skinner and Eley and their cohorts had little use for
+the sheriff of Mohave Wells. Skinner was a man of slight physique, with
+a putty colored skin—an unhealthy looking individual, lean, hungry
+looking, with small greenish eyes and a thin lipped mouth.
+
+Eley was a big man, swarthy as an Indian, powerful and overbearing. Eley
+was a fighter with his hands; Skinner with a gun. Skinner was the keen
+minded gambler, Eley the bouncer. Together they had worked as a combine
+to rule Lone Mule City.
+
+Clyde Mellon was their sheriff. His office was at Jewel City, and he
+spent little time in Lone Mule. An occasional killing or a robbery would
+bring him to the mines, where Skinner would tip him off as to whether it
+was to the interests of Skinner and Eley to make an arrest or not. They
+were adept at railroading an enemy.
+
+Little news of Lone Mule City came to Mohave Wells, except from the
+stage driver, or a disgruntled miner or gambler. Stage passengers
+usually went by way of Jewel City, as it was nearer to Lone Mule and
+Skinner and Eley owned that stage line.
+
+Day after day Buck Brady questioned Larry Lebec about the girl and her
+brother, but Larry had little news. The girl was working in a
+restaurant; the brother had a job as a mucker in the Lone Mule mine.
+Larry finally made it a point to seek the girl and find out how things
+were; but she had been let out and was no longer employed there. Larry
+asked the proprietor why she had been fired, but the man merely shrugged
+his shoulders. Larry went to the timekeeper’s office at the mine and
+inquired about Harry Nestor. The timekeeper discovered that Nestor had
+been discharged. No, he did not know why.
+
+But Larry knew either Skinner or Eley had engineered the deal. Larry
+told Buck Brady about it and promised to investigate further. A few days
+later Larry talked with a half drunken gambler, who had been fired from
+Skinner’s place, and he told Larry that Skinner had been trying to
+induce the girl to work for him. The gambler called Skinner a lot of
+unprintable names, packed up his things and came out to Mohave Wells,
+where Buck talked with him.
+
+He told Buck that Eley had seen the girl and was crazy about her. It was
+Eley who had forced the restaurant man to fire her, and a word from Eley
+had settled Harry Nestor, as far as mine work was concerned. Buck
+decided that Skinner and Eley knew the Nestors were broke, and they were
+forcing them either to work for Skinner and Eley or not work in Lone
+Mule.
+
+A few days later Larry sat down in front of Buck’s office and watched
+Buck cut keen shavings from a soft pine board.
+
+“You like to whittle, don’tcha, Buck?” he asked.
+
+“Yea-a-ah,” drawled Buck, a lazy smile in his eyes. “My idea of heaven
+is a shady spot, nothin’ to do, and a big pile of soft pine. Anythin’
+new, Larry?”
+
+“Nothin’ much. I seen Harry Nestor today. Shore looks bad. I seen him
+buy a can of salmon and a nickel’s worth of crackers. Gawd, I reckon
+things are breakin’ bad for them two. He went upstairs in an old shack.
+I was in Skinner and Eley’s place, but the Nestor girl wasn’t there. I
+reckon they’re holdin’ on. Folks up there are awful close mouthed, Buck.
+Scared, that’s it.”
+
+“I ort t’ go up there,” mused Buck. “Might git ’em out. Prob’ly ain’t
+got the price of a ticket. Prob’ly mean shootin’ somebody.”
+
+“Mean trouble,” nodded Larry. “They don’t like you.”
+
+Buck put away his knife and drew a ten-dollar bill from his pocket.
+
+“Give ’em that bill, Larry. If they want to git away, bring ’em out, and
+I’ll pay their freight. The girl could work for the wife awhile. She’ll
+be needin’ help pretty soon. Mebbe I could find the kid a job. I dunno.”
+
+“They’ll appreciate this,” said Larry heartily.
+
+“Mebbe. I dunno either of ’em. But whether they do or not, it’ll save
+the girl from them two carrion crows.”
+
+“I’ll see ’em tomorrow,” promised Larry. “They’re all right, them two.
+No earthly business in this country. You got to have more than
+eddication in this country. You gotta have sense.”
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Buck watched for the stage next day. He had talked it over with his
+wife, and she was willing to take the girl in until she could save up a
+little money. If Buck’s wife had not been endowed with something more
+than education, she might have suspected that Gladys Nestor’s pretty
+face had turned his head. But Buck was not interested in pretty girls,
+except that he did not want to see them going to Lone Mule City,
+innocently looking for an honest job.
+
+The stage was due in Mohave Wells at about four o’clock in the
+afternoon, but on this day it came in about three-thirty, all four
+horses lathering from a weary run. Larry skidded the stage to a stop in
+front of the stage office, threw open the stage door; and out came
+Gladys and Harry Nestor. The girl was bareheaded, her dress torn; Harry
+was without hat or coat and one sleeve of his shirt was missing. His
+face was bruised.
+
+Larry asked the office man to hold the team, and came down to Buck’s
+office, where Buck stood in the doorway, wondering what it was all
+about. He nodded to the half hysterical girl, glanced at the young man,
+and turned to Larry.
+
+“You got to take care of ’em, Buck,” he said, breathing hard. “I had one
+hell of a time gettin’ ’em out of Lone Mule. I shore fanned that team,
+but they ain’t far behind.”
+
+“They?” queried Buck.
+
+“Skinner and some of his tough gang. Eley is dead, and Skinner swears
+that Harry Nestor shot and killed him.”
+
+Buck’s nose twitched a little as he looked at Harry Nestor. The boy’s
+face was the color of ashes.
+
+“How about it, son?” asked Buck kindly.
+
+The boy swallowed painfully, shook his head, seemingly bereft of speech.
+
+“What do you know, ma’am?” asked Buck.
+
+“Oh, Harry did not shoot him! I know he didn’t do it.”
+
+“Didja see who shot him?”
+
+Gladys shook her head wearily.
+
+“No, I—I don’t know.”
+
+“They ain’t far behind us,” said Larry nervously. “I reckon they aim to
+tie off on the kid.”
+
+“Take the girl down to my place, Larry,” said Buck. “She’ll be safe.
+They only want this kid, but if they monkey around down there, Ma Brady
+shore knows how to handle my sawed off Winchester shotgun. Git goin’.”
+
+Larry took the girl down a narrow alley past the office, and Buck took
+the boy into the jail.
+
+“I dunno the facts of the matter,” he told Harry, “but that can wait.
+I’m goin’ to protect your life by lockin’ you up, son. Nobody can take
+you out of that cell without a key—and I have the only key. You jist set
+down and take it easy. Nobody in this here desert country ever took a
+man away from me yet; so don’t worry. We’ll talk later.”
+
+“Thank you, Mr. Brady.”
+
+“You’re welcome, Mr. Nestor.”
+
+Buck went back to the little porch, took out his knife and began
+whittling, his sombrero low over his eyes. He saw Skinner and four of
+his men ride in and tie their horses in front of Mohave Wells’ one
+saloon. They went in to get a drink.
+
+Larry Lebec came back and noted the sweaty horses at the hitchrack
+across the street.
+
+“Got here, eh?” he said.
+
+“Yea-a-a-ah. Go ahead and put up your team. They won’t do much.”
+
+About fifteen minutes later Skinner came alone from the saloon. Buck
+quit whittling and put away his knife. Skinner stopped at the edge of
+the sidewalk and considered the sheriff intently for several moments.
+
+“We came down here to take a murderer back with us, Brady.”
+
+“Yea-a-a-ah? What murderer?”
+
+“That young Nestor you’ve got inside there.”
+
+“Oh, that kid?”
+
+“He murdered Eley.”
+
+“That so?”
+
+“I’m tellin’ you, Brady. Do you want Mellon to have to come after him?”
+
+“No-o, I don’t want Clyde Mellon monkeyin’ around here, Skinner.”
+
+“Then turn him over to me. We’ll take him back and give him a fair
+trial.”
+
+“Yea-a-a-ah? I suppose you want the girl, too.”
+
+“She’ll have to come back as a witness.”
+
+Buck grinned slowly, and his right hand slid back a little. He scratched
+his thumb on the edge of the holster, his pale eyes on Skinner’s right
+hand.
+
+“Skinner—” slowly—“I’ve been waitin’ for a chance to tell you what a
+dirty specimen you are. I’ve shore got a lot to tell you.”
+
+“I’m not here for that purpose, Brady.”
+
+“This is jist sort of a by-product, Skinner. No trouble a-tall. Fingers
+itch? Scratch ’em, you carrion coyote! Not interested? Keep your hand
+away from that gun. Now, this is business. You’ll not take that kid, and
+you’ll not take that girl. Go back and get your sheriff. By the time he
+gets here, none of you will ever find them two. Leave one of your men
+here to watch where they go, and that man might as well drink some of
+your own cyanide. I’m runnin’ this end of the deal, and you’ll find that
+I rate as high in Mohave Wells as you do in Lone Mule. Skinner, I’ve got
+you whipped. I don’t believe that kid ever killed Eley, but if he did he
+shore deserves a lot more of a chance than you and your hired killers
+would ever give him.”
+
+Skinner’s lips tightened and his eyes narrowed, but he was obliged to
+swallow this.
+
+“I’ll put you out of this county,” he threatened. “You’re defendin’ a
+murderer. You’re as guilty as he is in the eyes of the law.”
+
+“That law is cockeyed, Skinner; and I’m not goin’ accordin’ to written
+laws. When I see a coyote chasin’ a rabbit, I’m for the rabbit. That’s
+my law. Go home and forget it.”
+
+“Some day this country is goin’ to be too hot for you, Brady.”
+
+“Yeah, and when it does, you won’t gloat a hell of a lot, ’cause where
+you’ll be, this’ll be the Arctic, beside what you’ll be sufferin’.”
+
+“All right. But I’ll tell you this much—I’m comin’ back here with the
+law behind me, and you better have that damn’ murderer where we can get
+him.”
+
+“When you come back here you and your law better wear iron overcoats,
+’cause I’ll be lookin’ for you.”
+
+Skinner turned and went back to the saloon, but he and his men made no
+move to leave Mohave Wells. Buck went in and bolted the back door,
+unlocked the cell door and asked Harry Nestor to come out into the front
+office, where they might watch the saloon. Buck took a Winchester rifle
+from the gun rack and sat with it across his knees, while the white
+faced kid sat near him on the edge of a chair.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+“I never killed him, Mr. Brady,” protested Harry. “Why, I never had a
+gun. My sister had work at a restaurant and I was working in the big
+mine. We were getting along all right. Mr. Skinner tried to get Glad to
+work in his dance hall. She can play a piano. But she wouldn’t go into a
+place like that.
+
+“Those women in there were terrible, and drunken men—Glad wouldn’t go
+into that place. Then Glad got let out at the restaurant, and somebody
+stole what money she had. And that same day I got fired. I—I don’t
+believe they paid me what I had coming. I protested, but the man said I
+could take it or leave it.
+
+“We just had a little room upstairs in an old shack. I had to sleep on
+the floor with just one blanket. Mr. Skinner kept coming up to see Glad,
+and sometimes Mr. Eley would come up. Mr. Skinner threatened me, and I—I
+didn’t know what to do. Everybody up there is his friend.
+
+“One day Mr. Eley came up and argued with Glad. He tried to get me to
+drink some whisky, but I couldn’t do it. And Mr. Skinner came up that
+same day, and he swore at Eley, who swore back at him. They really
+talked nasty in front of Glad. Oh, we wanted to get away from there, but
+we didn’t have money to pay stage fare. It was awful, Mr. Brady.”
+
+“Yeah, I reckon it wasn’t pleasant, son.”
+
+“It was terrible. And—today—”
+
+“That’s the main thing,” said Buck slowly. “Tell it.”
+
+“Mr. Eley came up there and he had been drinking. He’s such a big man.
+He shut the door. Glad and me were having a bite of lunch. He told me
+to—to get the hell out of there. I tried to remonstrate with him, but he
+swore at me and said he was through fooling around with me.
+
+“I thought he was going to kill me. Perhaps that was his intentions.
+Glad tried to reason with him, but it was no use. He started for me—”
+Harry rubbed the back of his right hand across his eyes.
+
+“I was afraid, Mr. Brady. There was a small chair, which I picked up and
+threw at him. I—I guess he was unprepared, and it struck him in the
+face, knocking him down on his knees. He had a gun. His face was
+bleeding. I—I don’t know why I did it, but I sprang on him, trying to
+hit him with my fists. He threw me aside, but I—I guess I came back and
+we fell down again.
+
+“Oh, I don’t remember—much. Glad was screaming. And then there was the
+noise of a gun. I was confused—hurt a little, I suppose. I remember the
+door was open. Glad had her hands over her face, and there was Eley on
+his back, blood running from one side of his head. It was awful. Men
+were coming in, and I saw Skinner. He told me I had killed a man. And
+then there was the stage driver. He shoved Glad through the door. He
+didn’t seem to mind the other men, but he had a gun pointed at Skinner,
+and he said to me, ‘Get downstairs as fast as you can and put your
+sister on my stage.’
+
+“I don’t remember getting down there. Glad was almost fainting, but I
+put her in the stage, which was across the street. We were hardly in,
+when we saw the driver running toward us, and I heard him spring up on
+the stage. He cried out something to some men in front of the
+station—and I—think he ran those horses all the way down here, while
+Glad and I clung to each other and tried to keep from injuring
+ourselves.”
+
+“You didn’t shoot Eley with his own gun, didja?” asked Buck.
+
+“No, I did not.”
+
+“You say the door was open, but it was shut when the fight started.
+Didja fall against it?”
+
+“No, we were never near it, Mr. Brady.”
+
+“Who didja see first—after Eley was shot?”
+
+“Mr. Skinner.”
+
+“Uh-huh. Do you reckon Skinner was mad at Eley over your sister?”
+
+“He was one day. He told Mr. Eley to keep his paws off her.”
+
+“What did Eley say?”
+
+“I should hate to repeat it.”
+
+“Don’t. I know. You go on back in that cell and shut the door. It locks
+on a spring.”
+
+“They can’t arrest me for murder, can they? I never killed him.”
+
+“Not in Mohave Wells, son, not while I’m sheriff. And there ain’t
+another civilized county in this here State where they’d arrest a man
+for killin’ a predatory animal. You run along. I’ve got a little
+whittlin’ to do.”
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Skinner was mad, but he did not talk openly in the saloon. He knew how
+Buck Brady stood with the people of Mohave Wells. He and his men
+lingered in the saloon, drinking a little. Finally they started a poker
+game to kill time. Skinner’s men asked no questions. They were content
+to stay there and wait for Skinner to tell them what to do. They were
+Skinner’s hired killers and their time belonged to him.
+
+They ate supper at the little Chinese restaurant. Buck Brady knew there
+was some reason for their staying in Mohave Wells, and as he whittled
+and whittled he wondered what that reason might be. Larry Lebec came
+down after supper, wondering why Skinner and his men stayed.
+
+“Go down to my house,” said Buck. “They might be aimin’ to get that
+girl, but I don’t think so. The kid told me the story about you gettin’
+’em out of that town. Where’d you first see Skinner—about the time of
+the fight?”
+
+“I was on the stage, Buck. The station is almost across the street from
+where they had the fight. I heard that shot, but I didn’t know where it
+was. Then I seen Skinner. He was at the entrance to them stairs, and I
+don’t know whether he was comin’ out or goin’ in.
+
+“He yelled at somebody and pointed up them stairs. I had a hunch; so
+over I went and up the stairs. It shore was a mess. There was Eley, shot
+through the head, and everythin’ upset. Skinner was accusin’ the kid of
+shootin’ Eley; so I th’owed my gun down on Skinner and took them kids
+away. We shore fanned the breeze out of there.”
+
+“That’s fine, pardner. Trot down to the house, will you?”
+
+“I shore will. See you later.”
+
+Darkness came, but Buck stayed there. The lights of the saloon were
+bright enough for him to see the horses at the hitchrack. Buck drew down
+his window shade and lighted a lamp. He had a peephole in that old
+shade; a misguided cowboy had sent a .45 slug through the shade one
+night.
+
+It was about eight o’clock when the five men came from the saloon,
+mounted their horses and came down the street past the office. Buck
+watched them closely, and he saw one man turn back as the others
+galloped on. He rode up to the office and dismounted. A few moments
+later he knocked, and Buck asked him to come in.
+
+It was Skinner, but a rather apologetic Skinner. Buck stood up and faced
+him.
+
+“I’ve been thinkin’ this thing over, Brady,” he said humbly. “We don’t
+want to go off half cocked. I realize we’ve been a little hasty and I
+know how you feel toward me.”
+
+It was so unlike Skinner that Buck was instantly alert, suspicious.
+
+“Yeah?” he queried.
+
+Skinner came in a little closer. They were within arm’s reach of each
+other now.
+
+“The girl saw the whole thing,” said Skinner. “I never had a chance to
+question her about what she saw. Naturally she wouldn’t incriminate her
+own brother, but I’d like to hear what she’d have to say.”
+
+“Meanin’ what?” asked Buck. His right hand was itching for that gun.
+
+“Take me where she is. You’ve got the best of it, Brady. We’ll question
+her together, eh? That’s the stuff. I’d even give you my gun—”
+
+His right hand jerked back. Perhaps Skinner was really going to give
+Buck that gun, but his action was altogether too sudden to suit Buck,
+whose gun came up like a flash. With a short arm jerk Buck snapped the
+heavy barrel against the side of Skinner’s head.
+
+Skinner went down like a pole-axed beef, shaking the office, his right
+hand convulsively gripping the gun he had drawn. Buck kicked it aside.
+
+“Must ’a’ thought he was pretty fast,” muttered Buck. “Fool!”
+
+He grasped Skinner by the nape of the neck and dragged him back to the
+cell, where he unlocked the door.
+
+“Mr. Brady?” asked Harry Nestor nervously.
+
+“And companion,” grunted Buck, as he unlocked the door and dragged
+Skinner inside and stretched him out on the bunk.
+
+“C’mon, son,” said Buck, and they went out to the office.
+
+“Stay here,” ordered Buck, and went outside, where he tied the reins up
+on Skinner’s horse, swung the animal around and slapped it with his hat.
+
+Buck came back, blew out the light and told Harry to follow him. They
+went through the back door, and in a few minutes they were down at
+Buck’s house. Larry was there, the shotgun across his lap. Gladys was
+overjoyed at sight of Harry.
+
+“I was tellin’ her that Buck would protect her brother,” said Mrs.
+Brady.
+
+“How about a little somethin’ to eat, Ma?” asked Buck. “Me and the kid
+ain’t nourished yet.”
+
+“Oh, I don’t believe I shall ever have an appetite again,” said Harry.
+
+“You will here,” said Buck.
+
+“Skinner and his gang pull out?” asked Larry.
+
+“Little while ago.”
+
+“Why did they stay around here?” Buck shook his head slowly.
+
+“I wish I knew, Larry. There was a scheme.”
+
+“Was a scheme?”
+
+Came a heavy footfall on the porch, a sharp knock at the door. Buck
+stepped over against the wall and flung the door open. It was the man
+from the stage office, hatless, out of breath.
+
+“Brady!” he blurted. “Some men broke into your office a few minutes ago,
+and they must have fired a dozen shots in there. I was across the street
+and I heard the shots. It was like a Fourth of July in there. Then the
+men came running out to their horses, and I heard one of them say:
+
+“‘By Gawd, if we can’t get ’em one way, we’ll get ’em another!’”
+
+The lines of Buck Brady’s face seemed to deepen a little as they looked
+at him. He sighed softly and turned to look at the serious face of
+Lebec.
+
+“_Was_ a scheme, Larry,” he said softly.
+
+
+[Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in Adventure Magazine,
+March 1, 1930. It is believed to be in the public domain in the
+United States; copyright status may differ in other countries.]
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78842 ***