by Max Brand
CHAPTER XV
THE DARKNESS IN ELDARA
Even the stout roan grew weary during the third day, and when theytopped the last rise of hills, and looked down to darker shadows inEldara in the black heart of the hollow, the mustang stood with hanginghead, and one ear flopped forward. Cruel indeed had been the pace whichNash maintained, yet they had never been able to overhaul the flyingpiebald of Anthony Bard.
As they trotted down the slope, Nash looked to his equipment, handledhis revolver, felt the strands of the lariat, and resting only his toesin the stirrups, eased all his muscles to make sure that they wereuncramped from the long journey. He was fit; there was no doubt of that.
Coming down the main street--for Eldara boasted no fewer than threethoroughfares--the first houses which Nash passed showed no lights. Asfar as he could see, the blinds were all drawn; not even the glimmer ofa candle showed, and the voices which he heard were muffled and low.
He thought of plague or some other disaster which might have overtakenthe little village and wiped out nine tenths of the populace in a day.Only such a thing could account for silence in Eldara. There should havebeen bursts and roars of laughter here and there, and now and then aharsh stream of cursing. There should have been clatter of kitchen tins;there should have been neighing of horses; there should have been thequiver and tingle of children's voices at play in the dusty streets. Butthere was none of this. The silence was as thick and oppressive as theunbroken dark of the night. Even Butler's saloon was closed!
This, however, was something which he would not believe, no matter whattestimony his eyes gave him. He rode up to a shuttered window and kickedit with his heel.
Only the echoes of that racket replied to him from the interior of theplace. He swore, somewhat touched with awe, and kicked again.
A faint voice called: "Who's there?"
"Steve Nash. What the devil's happened to Eldara?"
The boards of the shutter stirred, opened, so that the man within couldlook out.
"Is it Steve, honest?"
"Damn it, Butler, don't you know my voice? What's turned Eldara into acemetery?"
"Cemetery's right. 'Butch' Conklin and his gang are going to raid theplace to-night."
"Butch Conklin?"
And Nash whistled long and low.
"But why the devil don't the boys get together if they know Butch iscoming with his gunmen?"
"That's what they've done. Every able-bodied man in town is out in thehills trying to surprise Conklin's gang before they hit town with theirguns going."
Butler was a one-legged man, so Nash kept back the question whichnaturally formed in his mind.
"How do they know Conklin is coming? Who gave the tip?"
"Conklin himself."
"What? Has he been in town?"
"Right. Came in roaring drunk."
"Why'd they let him get away again?"
"Because the sheriff's a bonehead and because our marshal is solidivory. That's why."
"What happened?"
"Butch came in drunk, as I was saying, which he generally is, but hewasn't giving no trouble at all, and nobody felt particular called on tocross him and ask questions. He was real sociable, in fact, and that'show the mess was started."
"Go on. I don't get your drift."
"Everybody was treatin' Butch like he was the king of the earth and notpassin' out any backtalk, all except one tenderfoot----"
But here a stream of tremendous profanity burst from Nash. It rose, itrushed on, it seemed an exhaustless vocabulary built up by long practiceon mustangs and cattle.
At length: "Is that damned fool in Eldara?"
"D'you know him?"
"No. Anyway, go on. What happened?"
"I was sayin' that Butch was feelin' pretty sociable. It went all rightin the bars. He was in here and didn't do nothin' wrong. Even paid forall the drinks for everybody in the house, which nobody could ask moreeven from a white man. But then Butch got hungry and went up the streetto Sally Fortune's place."
A snarl came from Nash.
"Did they let that swine go in there?"
"Who'd stop him? Would you?"
"I'd try my damnedest."
"Anyway, in he went and got the centre table and called for ten dollars'worth of bacon and eggs--which there hasn't been an egg in Eldara thisweek. Sally, she told him, not being afraid even of Butch. He got prettysore at that and said that it was a frame-up and everyone was ag'in'him. But finally he allowed that if she'd sit down to the table and keephim company he'd manage to make out on whatever her cook had ready toeat."
"And Sally done it?" groaned Nash.
"Sure; it was like a dare--and you know Sally. She'd risk her wholeplace any time for the sake of a bet."
"I know it, but don't rub it in."
"She fetched out a steak and served Butch as if he'd been a king andthen sat down beside him and started kiddin' him along, with all thegang of us sittin' or standin' around and laughin' fit to bust, but notloud for fear Butch would get annoyed.
"Then two things come in together and spoiled the prettiest little partythat was ever started in Eldara. First was that player piano which Sallygot shipped in and paid God-knows-how-much for; the second was thisgreenhorn I was tellin' you about."
"Go on," said Nash, the little snarl coming back in his voice. "Tell mehow the tenderfoot walked up and kicked Butch out of the place."
"Somebody been tellin' you?"
"No; I just been readin' the mind of Eldara."
"It was a nice play, though. This Bard--we found out later that was hisname--walks in, takes a table, and not being served none too quick, hewalks over and slips a nickel in the slot of the piano. Out she startswith a piece of rippin' ragtime--you know how loud it plays? Butch, hekept on talkin' for a minute, but couldn't hear himself think. Finallyhe bellers: 'Who turned that damned tin-pan loose?'
"This Bard walks up and bows. He says: 'Sir, I came here to find food,and since I can't get service, I'll take music as a substitute.'
"Them was the words he used, Steve, honest to God. Used them to Butch!
"Well, Conklin was too flabbergasted to budge, and Bard, he leaned overand says to Sally: 'This floor is fairly smooth. Suppose you and I dancetill I get a chance to eat?'
"We didn't know whether to laugh or to cheer, but most of us compromisedby keeping an eye on Butch's gun.
"Sally says, 'Sure I'll dance,' and gets up.
"'Wait!' hollers Butch; 'are you leavin' me for this wall-eyed galoot?'
"There ain't nothin' Sally loves more'n a fight--we all know that. Butthis time I guess she took pity on the poor tenderfoot, or maybe shejest didn't want to get her floor all messed up.
"'Keep your hat on, Butch,' she says, 'all I want to do is to give himsome motherly advice.'
"'If you're acting that part,' says Bard, calm as you please, 'I've gotto tell mother that she's been keeping some pretty bad company.'
"'Some what?' bellers Butch, not believin' his ears.
"And young Bard, he steps around the girl and stands over Butch.
"'Bad company is what I said,' he repeats, 'but maybe I can beconvinced.'
"'Easy,' says Butch, and reaches for his gun.
"We all dived for the door, but me being held up on account of mymissing leg, I was slow an' couldn't help seein' what happened. Butchwas fast, but the young feller was faster. He had Butch by the wristbefore the gun came clear--just gave a little twist--and there he stoodwith the gun in his hand pointin' into Butch's face, and Butch sittin'there like a feller in a trance or wakin' up out of a bad dream.
"Then he gets up, slow and dignified, though he had enough liquor in himto float a ship.
"'I been mobbed,' he says, 'it's easy to see that. I come here peacefuland quiet, and here I been mobbed. But I'm comin' back, boys, and Iain't comin' alone.'
"There was our chance to get him, while he was walking out of that placewithout a gun, but somehow nobody moved for him. He didn't look none tooeasy, even
without his shootin' irons. Out he goes into the night, andwe stood around starin' at each other. Everybody was upset, except Sallyand Bard.
"He says: 'Miss Fortune, this is our dance, I think.'
"'Excuse me,' says Sally, 'I almost forgot about it.'
"And they started to dance to the piano, waltzin' around among thetables; the rest of us lit out for home because we knew that Butch wouldbe on his way with his gang before we got very far under cover. But hey,Steve, where you goin'?"
"I'm going to get in on that dance," called Nash, and was gone at aracing gallop down the street.