by Max Brand
CHAPTER XXIII
THE COMEDY SETTING
"Dead, you mean," broke in Nash, "because otherwise he'll never behelpless."
"I tell you, Nash," said the other solemnly, "I can make him helplesswith one minute of talk. My problem is to keep that wild devil harmlesswhile he listens to me talk. Another thing--if he ever sees me, nothing_but_ death will stop him from coming at my throat."
"Speakin' personal," said the other coldly, "I never take no chances onfellers that might come at my throat."
"I know; you're for the quick draw and the quick finish. But I'd ratherdie myself than have a hair of his head hurt. I mean that!"
Nash, his thoughts spinning, stood staring blankly.
"I give up tryin' to figure it out; but if he's comin' here and you wantto keep him safe I'd better take a fresh hoss and get twenty miles awaybefore night."
"You'll do nothing of the kind; you'll stay here with me."
"And face him without a gun?" asked the other incredulously.
"Leave gun talk out of this. I think one of the boys looks a little likeme. Lawlor--isn't that his name?"
"Him? Yes; a little bit like you--but he's got his thickness through thestomach and not through the chest."
"Never mind. He's big, and he's grey. Send for him, and get the rest ofthe boys in here. They're around now for noon. Get _every_ one.Understand? And make it fast."
In ten minutes they came to the office in a troop--rough men, smoothmen, little and big, fat and thin, but good cattlemen, every one.
"Boys," said Drew, "a tenderfoot is coming to the ranch to-day. I'mgoing to play a few jokes on him. First of all, I want you to know thatuntil the stranger leaves the house, Lawlor is going to take my place.He is going to be Drew. Understand?"
"Lawlor?" broke out several of them, and turned in surprise to a big,cheerful man--grey, plump, with monstrous white whiskers.
"Because he looks a bit like me. First, you'll have to crop thosewhiskers, Lawlor."
He clutched at the threatened whiskers with both hands.
"Crop 'em? Chief, you ain't maybe runnin' me a bit?"
"Not a bit," said Drew, smiling faintly. "I'll make it worth yourwhile."
"It took me thirty years to raise them whiskers," said the cattleman,stern with rebuke. "D'you think I could be _hired_ to give 'em up? It'slike givin' up some of myself."
"Let them go, then. You can play the part, whiskers and all. The rest ofyou remember that Lawlor is the boss."
"And brand that deep," growled Lawlor, looking about with a frown.
He had already stepped into his part; the others laughed loudly.
"Steady there!" called Drew. "Lawlor starts as boss right now. Cut outthe laughing. I'll tell the rest of you what you're to do later on. Inthe meantime just step out and I'll have a talk with Lawlor on his part.We haven't much time to get ready. But remember--if one of you grinswhen Lawlor gives an order--I'm done with that man--that's all."
They filed out of the room, looking serious, and Drew concentrated onLawlor. "This sounds like a joke," he began, "but there's somethingserious about it. If you carry it through safely, there's a hundred init for you. If you fall down, why, you fall out of an easy place on thisranch."
The big cattleman wiped a growing perspiration from his forehead andconsidered his boss with plaintive eyes.
"This tenderfoot who's coming is green to the range, but he's a hardman; a fine horseman, a sure shot, and a natural fighter. More thanthat, he's coming here looking for trouble; and he'll expect to get thetrouble from you."
Lawlor brushed his moustache anxiously.
"Let someone else take the job--that's all. A hundred ain't to be pickedup every week, but I'll do without it. In my day I've done my share ofbrawlin' around, but I'm too stiff in the joints to make a fast draw andgetaway now. Let Nash take this job. He's gun-fighter enough to handlethis bad-man for you."
"No," said Drew, "not even Nash can handle this one."
"Then"--with a mighty and explosive emphasis--"there ain't no possibleuse of me lingering around the job. S'-long."
"Wait. This young chap isn't going to murder you. I'll tell you thismuch. The man he wants is I; but he knows my face, not my name. He'sbeen on the trail of that face for some time, and now he's tracking itto the right house; but when he sees you and hears you called Drew,he'll be thrown off again."
The other nodded gloomily.
"I'm by way of a lightning rod. This tenderfoot with the hard hand, hestrikes and I sort of conduct the shock away from anything that'll burn,eh?"
Drew overlooked the comment.
"There are certain things about me you will have to know." And heexplained carefully the story which Nash had told to Bard.
"This Bard," asked the cautious Lawlor, "is he any relation of old JohnBard?"
"Even if he were, it wouldn't make your position dangerous. The man hewants is I. He knows my face--not my name. Until he sees me he'll beperfectly reasonable, unless he's crossed. You must seem frank and aboveboard. If you tell more lies than are necessary he may get suspicious,and if he grows suspicious the game is up and will have to be finishedwith a gun play. Remember that. He'll want to know about Nash. Tell himthat Nash is a bad one and that you've fixed him; he mustn't expect tofind Nash here."
Lawlor rubbed his hands, like one coming from the cold outdoors to awarm fire.
"I'm beginning to see light. Lemme at this Bard. I'm going to get enoughfun out of this to keep me laughin' the rest of my life."
"Good; but keep that laugh up your sleeve. If he asks questions you'llhave some solemn things to say."
"Chief, when the time comes, there's going to be about a gallon of tearsin my eyes."
So Drew left him to complete the other arrangements. If Bard reached thehouse he must be requested to stay, and if he stayed he must be fed andentertained. The difficulty in the way of this was that the servants inthe big ranchhouse were two Chinese boys. They could never be trusted tohelp in the deception, so Drew summoned two of his men, "Shorty" Kilrainand "Calamity" Ben.
Calamity had no other name than Ben, as far as any one on the range hadever been able to learn. His nickname was derived from the most dolorousface between Eldara and Twin Rivers. Two pale-blue eyes, set closetogether, stared out with an endless and wistful pathos; a long nosedropped below them, and his mouth curled down at the sides. He washopelessly round-shouldered from much and careless riding, and inattempting to straighten he only succeeded in throwing back his head, sothat his lean neck generally was in a V-shape with the Adam's apple asthe apex of the wedge.
Shorty Kilrain received his early education at sea and learned there ageneral handiness which stood him in stead when he came to themountain-desert. There was nothing which Shorty could not do with hishands, from making a knot to throwing a knife, and he was equally readyto oblige with either accomplishment. Drew proposed that he take chargeof the kitchen with Calamity Ben as an assistant. Shorty glowered on therancher.
"Me!" he said. "Me go into the galley to wait on a blasted tenderfoot?"
"After he leaves you'll have a month off with full pay and some over,Shorty."
"Don't want the month off."
Drew considered him thoughtfully, following the precept of Walpole thatevery man has his price.
"What _do_ you want, Shorty?"
The ex-sailor scratched his head and then rolled his eyes up with adawning smile, as one who sees a vision of ultimate bliss.
"Let one of the other boys catch my hoss out of the corral every morningand saddle him for me for a month."
"It's a bargain. What'll you do with that time?"
"Sit on the fence and roll a cigarette like a blasted gentleman and damnthe eyes of the feller that's catchin' my hoss."
"And me," said Calamity Ben, "what do I get?"
"You get orders," answered Kilrain, "from me."
Calamity regarded him, uncertain whether or not to fight out the point,but apparently decided that the effort was not
worth while.
"There ain't going to be no luck come out of this," he said darkly."Before this tenderfoot gets out of the house, we're all going to wishhe was in hell."
