The Sheriff of Badger: A Tale of the Southwest Borderland

by George Pattullo

  CHAPTER XXXII

  BIRTH OF LAFE JOHNSON, JR.

  We were going down the Canon when Hetty called after us: "Well, don'ttake any bad money, you two."

  She stood in the doorway, wiping flour from her hands. Bob was grinningover her shoulder. The caution must have reminded Lafe. He slapped hiship pocket and extracted a wallet, from which he drew two soiled bills.

  "Here," he said, riding back, "you keep this, Hetty. I've got threedollars in silver. That'll do me."

  "You're learning," was her composed comment, and she slipped the moneyinside the bosom of her waist. After this agreeable exhibition ofdomestic foresight, we rode down the Canon and started across thevalley. It may be that I showed amusement.

  "What's hurting you?" Lafe asked; "what I done then? That's the only wayI can save money. It's right queer, Dan, but whenever I have any and getto town, it goes like a bat out of hell."

  This information was wholly superfluous. "I usually have to charge myhorse's keep and my meals," I confessed.

  "Sure. It's in the blood, I reckon. But if me and you and all the othersdon't learn to sweat a dollar, all these here new people a-coming infrom the States will take everything off'n us. Yes, sir, they'll have usbare to the hides. Some of 'em have got the first two-bits they everearned."

  The only previous occasion on which I had seen Johnson hoard his moneywas once when he hid it in the band of his hat as a safeguard againstnew-found friends, and, during subsequent operations, forgot its hidingplace. Lafe had been bitterly chagrined on discovering it later, holdinghimself cheated of entertainment. Assuredly his new responsibilitieswere working a change of heart.

  "Lafe, I never knew Hetty was so pretty."

  "You're whistlin'," he said. An accompanying sniff signified surpriseand contempt that my recognition was so tardy. We jogged along and hebecame thoughtful. Finally he asked: "Did you notice it, too?"

  "Notice what?"

  "Well, I kind of got the idea that Hetty was prettier now than she usedto was. When you said that just now, it made me think you seen it, too."

  I nodded earnestly. There had come a look into Hetty's eyes which causedone to wait expectantly for a halo to appear.

  "But she's sort of poorly," he went on; "seems like everything I domakes her mad. I expect everybody gets that way some time or other,more especially if they live off by themselves where they never see noone. Don't you reckon?"

  "Perhaps it's Bob."

  "No-oo, I don't think so. But she does get mad about him sometimes--notat Bob, though. Anything that lazy scamp does is all right. No, sir; atme. She got mad because I said I wouldn't let him have that money. Ican't spare it, Dan. Honest, I can't. And she says I leave her alone toomuch."

  "She'll soon get over that."

  "Sometimes she's worse'n others. Yeow, how she gives it to me somedays."

  We reached town in good time and put up at the Fashion, where were threeof the Anvil boys. Johnson hailed their presence with proper ceremonies,and then drew me to one side.

  "Say," said he, "I've got to see the new sheriff for a minute. I'll pullout right after dinner. What're you going to do? Stick around?"

  "Oh, I suppose so. Nothing else to do."

  "Well, if you should happen for to play pitch," he advised, "don't bidmore'n your hand's worth. Remember your weakness. Adios."

  Two months later we two again rode together up Hope Canon. Bob Ferrierwas behind us and was soberly elated, for that afternoon Johnson hadloaned him three hundred dollars and I had gone security. He would wedMary Lou on the morrow.

  The sun was setting behind The Hatter as we neared the house. It was ablissful twilight, and Lafe sang in gladness of heart.

  But he chanced one day to run agin A bullet made o' lead, Which was harder than he bargained for, And now poor Bill is dead; And when they brung his body home A barrel of tears was shed.

  He ended with a halloo as we topped the last rise. There was no responseor sign from the house. A puzzled look came over his face and he wasdown before his horse came to a stop. He sprang through the door.

  "Hetty!" he shouted. "Hetty!" Then in a voice hoarse from fear: "Sheain't here. She ain't here. Hetty, where are you?"

  He was rushing frantically from one room to another. Ferrier was moremethodical. He found a piece of paper under a cup on the kitchen table,which he read and handed to his brother-in-law.

  I can't stand it any longer. I am going away. You'll soon get over it. Be sure to feed the dog. Good-by.

  Johnson held the penciled lines at arm's length, while I waited for himto say something. It is my belief that he did not distinguish the wordsafter the first perusal. Then he began to laugh.

  "Why, it can't be--Hetty, she wouldn't--say, it must be a joke--whatdoes it mean?"

  Bob lifted his shoulders in a shrug he had picked up from the Mexicans.It stung Lafe.

  "Where has she gone? Do you know anything about this?"

  "Not me. She's been mighty queer lately, Lafe. Where could she go?"

  We could only look at one another while we mentally debatedpossibilities. Hetty had no kith or kin in this region, and the nearestpoint was Badger. She could not have gone there, else we should havepassed her on the road.

  "Mary Lou's!" Bob exclaimed. "I'll swear that's where she's hit for."

  Johnson remained beside the table a moment, deep in thought. Then hesmote his hands together and an expression of relief lighted his face.

  "I'll go get her," he told us.

  We were for accompanying him to the Hardins' place, but had not gonemore than a few hundred yards when he pulled up and requested that we goback. This matter was between him and Hetty--he said it with somehesitation--and it were better that he go alone. So we turned back, onlyto halt again.

  "He might need some help," was Bob's excuse. "Supposing she's sick. Whatdo you say if we trail him?"

  "Come on."

  It was now after nine o'clock and there was small probability of Johnsonperceiving us. Yet we kept far in rear lest he hear our horses. We hadproceeded perhaps a mile when he amazed us by riding back. Lafe wasgoing at a lope and he did not pause. To our utter consternation he tookno notice of our presence, but went by at a clatter and swerved to theright up a narrow ravine.

  "He's crazy," said Ferrier. "He must have gone out of his head. Let'sdrift."

  "Wait, Lafe. Wait!" I bellowed.

  We jabbed with the spurs and went in pursuit. Presently we saw Lafe'shorse standing riderless amid the post-oak, nibbling at the grass, andsome distance in front we heard the stroke of his spur. He must havestubbed his toe, for he fell, and swore with freedom. That permitted usto gain on him, but he picked himself up and went forward at an ungainlyrun.

  "What's got into him?" said Bob. He was puffing. We had abandoned ourhorses and were legging it after him as best we could.

  "Search me!" I said breathlessly.

  Far ahead I could see a spark burning. It was going steadily up theravine. Surely Lafe could not be smoking; I dismissed this idea at once,for we could see him dimly and he was much nearer than the spark. Itseemed to expand and cavort with glee as we came on.

  The ravine had always been a favorite spot with Hetty. There were shadyplaces in it during the day, however merciless the aching void of sky,and often had she brought her sewing to sit there, listening to theacorns drop in the hushed stillness.

  "Gee, I can't run another step," said Ferrier. "You go on. Lafe! Stop!"

  We both ceased running. I was compelled to clutch the limb of a tree tohold myself upright. The spark ahead of us was now grown to a ball offire, giving off a vaporous sheen. Still it kept on, and the runner infront slowed to a walk: Lafe was as little accustomed to this exerciseas we were. Then I perceived that Jack-o'-Lantern had come to a stop. Heflashed above a tree, dipped downward, poised in midair.

  "Hal-loo," came a cry from Johnson. "Here I am. Hurry! Hurry!"

  "Let's try again," Bob gasped, and we forced our cramped limbs in
to arun.

  Lafe was bending over a white object that lay huddled at the base of atree.

  "It's her," said he, as we arrived.

  Hetty was unconscious, and had her head pillowed in the crook of onearm. Often so had Lafe seen her lying asleep, on tiptoeing into the roomwhen returned from distant parts of the range.

  "Here," Bob grunted. "Give me her legs. Help with the shoulders, Dan."

  "I'll take 'em myself," Lafe said fiercely.

  We lifted her very slowly and tenderly, and started back. Twice were weobliged to set our burden down and rest, but we managed to carry herback to the house. As we were placing her on the bed, Hetty revived andopened her eyes.

  "Get away," she said fretfully to her husband. "You're always smellingof that tobacco. Get away. You make me tired."

  "Hetty," Lafe whispered, groping for her hand.

  "What're you looking so scared about?" his wife asked. "Leave me be,now. I hate you."

  "Better get out," I cautioned. "Go and fetch Armstrong."

  A few minutes later we heard the rattle of his horse's hoofs, going atfull speed towards Badger. He had saddled a fresh mount. And we composedourselves there in chairs beside the bed, to wait--listening to Hetty'smoans when she would rouse from the semi-trance which held her. Neverhad I felt so helpless and so wholly wretched.

  "Tut-tut," said Dr. Armstrong, when knocked up from bed. "Keep yourshirt on, man. It isn't the first time in the history of the world, northe last, I take it. She's a strong woman. Brace up."

  Nevertheless, he made all speed, and although three score years hadbeaten over his rugged head, he never once complained during the longride. Johnson went at a gallop, with brief, impatient periods ofdogtrotting to breathe their horses. They covered the fourteen miles infifty-seven minutes, and it was not much after one o'clock when theyclattered up to the door.

  Lafe would have pushed into the room had not the doctor thrust him back.At the same time Hetty turned in the bed and cried petulantly that shewould not have him near.

  "Out you go," he ordered, "do you hear me? Don't go whining round here.That's nothing unusual."

  The husband demurred, but Armstrong shoved him outside. As he waspassing from the room, the doctor said to him over his shoulder in atone of intense joy--the joy of the born physician in a fair fightagainst the Enemy: "She's liable to swear at you in a minute. Does sheknow how to swear? I've heard some of 'em cuss me everything they couldlay their tongues to." It was almost a chortle he emitted, but he wassolemn enough before Lafe had closed the door.

  There is a flat rock on the slope in front of the Johnson house, andLafe and Bob and I sat thereon and tried to smoke. It was of no use.Lafe simply could not remain still. He suddenly remembered the horses,which we had entirely forgotten, and led them to the spring to bewatered. That done, he unsaddled and turned them into the pasture. Thebeasts gave a long sigh of relief, shook themselves, lay down to roll,and began to graze. We joined him at the fence. Johnson spread hiselbows on the top rail and kept his gaze on a brilliant spark that wasrocketing among the cottonwoods. He turned away at last and took towandering round and round the house, staring at the light in theirbedroom window. Ferrier and I followed dumbly, finding no words tocomfort. Lafe left us and rapped timidly on the door.

  "I told you to get out and stay out!" Armstrong hissed. The doctor wasnot a nervous person, but he was strung to high tension. We caughtHetty's voice, raised in querulous supplication. It was very weak andseemed to carry reproach of Lafe, and he shrank back.

  "Get out, I tell you. Go 'tend the horses," said Armstrong, giving him apush.

  "I done 'tended 'em."

  "Well, take a run up and kill that wildcat that's screeching up there.Don't shoot it. Smash him with a rock, or something; but drag it out ofhere. Move, now. Send that brother-in-law of yours to me. I need him."

  Johnson faded from the door, and we paced the ground in front of theporch. Something moist touched his hand and Lafe whipped it away, but itwas only his mongrel dog come for a caress. For the first time sincemanhood Lafe knew real fear--not the nervous tension of an emergency,but sick, craven fear. A peculiar nausea where his stomach ought to betook all his courage away, and he rolled another cigarette in the hopeof steadying his nerves. As he struck a match, he recalled what his wifehad said about the brand of tobacco he favored and he threw the stubaway.

  "Why, she ain't much more'n a girl"--he was fondling the dog'sears--"just a kid."

  I guessed what was passing in his mind. Thoughts of trifling things hemight have done for Hetty, to the easement of her lot, rose up toreproach. When a man has gone through that, he has known anguish ofsoul. But they were instantly submerged in a new tenderness. In thathour of trial, Lafe learned many things.

  The creak of a cautious step on the boards of the porch brought himstanding and when Armstrong emerged, Lafe was there to meet him, pallidof face, but entirely calm.

  "It's all right. Don't look that way, Lafe. No, you can't come in. Icame out for a drink. Where's the bucket? Whew, it's hot."

  Johnson poured him a cup of water and carried the canteen to the springto be refilled. On his return he stepped into the kitchen. Growinguneasy over his long absence, I went in search of him, strollingcarelessly to the door. The room was in darkness, so I struck a match.There was Lafe behind the door, with an old apron of Hetty's clutched inboth hands. He was simply looking at it, and looking.

  "Lafe," I said. He dropped the apron hurriedly and came out. We did notface each other. "Tell me something."

  "Let's have it. What do you want to know?"

  I hesitated, doubtful how he might take the question.

  "Well?"

  "How did you know where to hunt? What made you think Hetty was upthere?"

  "I didn't think," he replied. "Didn't you see that li'l firefly? Theminute I set eyes on him, he sort of seemed to wave at me. Yes, sir. Iremembered what you'd said, too, Dan. Jim-in-ee, there he is again.Look!"

  Jack-o'-Lantern had abandoned his game of hide-and-seek among the treesand was now circling the house. He twinkled from door to window, asthough to peep in. Perhaps something discouraged him; at any rate, hecontinued to flit in long, soaring glides. Lafe noted these, marveling,and we squatted on the rock again, determined to stay there. Then,looking upward to a star which shone in line with the chimney, heperceived the eerie light quivering above the roof. The locationevidently suited Jack-o'-Lantern, for there he hung.

  At last there were sounds within, and Johnson clutched the dog where itcrouched between his knees. The brute whined under the grip of hisfingers. We got to our feet and the dog looked up at us in doubt, muchmystified as to what all this could mean.

  The merry spark above the roof gave a final twinkle and went out. At thesame moment an inner door opened, releasing a flood of light into thehall-way, and a high-pitched, treble yell that lifted the hair at thenape of my neck and set Johnson to shaking, rent the night air with thesuddenness of a popping cork.

  The doctor stuck his head out of the door. He called in suppressed glee:"Come on in, Lafe. She wants you. Say, he's a dandy."

  Jack-o'-Lantern had found a habitation.