CHAPTER XXXV
THE DEATH DICE
He was shaking as with a chill, although the perspiration stood out onchin and forehead. On hearing this Lafe glanced in his direction andasked, good-naturedly enough, what was the matter.
"Nothing," said the half-breed quickly, "only you haven't sung anythingelse in two days but that song, and my nerves ain't good after the timewe had at the ranch."
Several times in the course of the evening, as the outfit loafed in campafter supper, the boss had occasion to pass Baptismo where he lay by thefire. Each time he either hummed or whistled a line of "The DyingCowboy."
Johnson had spread his tarp about thirty yards removed from his men. Hewas a very light sleeper, accustomed to wake at least once in the courseof the night to look all around the camp and make sure that everythingwas well. Therefore he heard Baptismo when the latter stood over him,and he knew almost what each second of hesitation meant. Had thehalf-breed moved, the boss would have shot him dead. After an interval,Baptismo turned away and went softly to his own bed.
In the gray of dawn, as the Anvil men were roping their mounts from theremuda and the horses were plunging wildly into the press of theirbrethren, Lafe called his strawboss and told him to take charge of thework for the day. To Baptismo he said, placing a hand carelessly on thehalf-breed's six-shooter: "I reckon you'd better come along with me,Baptismo." With that he took possession of the gun.
The man's nostrils flared quickly and he grew pallid about the lips, buthe neither inquired why Lafe wanted him nor offered any objection.Instead, he glanced in apprehension toward the group of riders now readyand waiting for the chief's orders to be off. The horses were restlessto the tang in the air.
It was not until the two were a mile from camp and well on their way tothe county town that Baptismo broke silence. Then it was to protestvehemently against suspicions which Johnson had not voiced. The bossmade no answer, but kept a vigilant watch over his movements.
There was a crowd gathered in the town. They had a man in their midstand were dragging him at the end of a rope. As Johnson and his prisonercame down the single street, they encountered this mob. A cloud of dustenveloped the wretch they were dragging and Lafe had to check the rushbefore it cleared sufficiently for him to discover the victim'sidentity. It was Bass. He was unconscious and was bleeding from woundsinflicted by his captors' boots and ropes. A goodly portion of the crowdwas composed of the Tilsons, relatives of Sellers, and the remainderwere members of the outfit for which Jerry had worked. Johnson held uphis hand, palm outward, and called for order.
"What the hell do you want?" they inquired.
"I used to be sheriff of Badger," cried Lafe, "and I'm boss now of theAnvil range. I arrested that man you've got there. This looks like alynching. What's the idea?"
Gustfully they explained that the idea was to hang Mr. Bass to a treeadjacent. Lafe heard them in seeming patience, piecing together from theconfusion of cries just how strong their passions ran. He inquired in acivil tone as to their reasons for hanging Mordecai.
"What for?" they echoed. "Why, damn it all, he done killed JerrySellers. Stabbed him in the back. Do you hear that? Stabbed him in theback!"
Lafe touched his horse with his heel and advanced on them a few steps.
"Men," said he, "Bass never killed Jerry Sellers. I done arrested himfor it, but I made a mistake. The man who knifed him--"
The mob interrupted with hoots and a roar of abuse. Some of them pushedpast Lafe and began to drag Bass forward once more. Others demanded toknow what warrant the sheriff had for this extraordinary statement. Theystill called him "sheriff."
"Let's give him a trial," Lafe plead loudly; "let's try each of thesemen in turn. This man I've got here--"
He broke off, afraid to proceed further lest the swift rage of the mobinclude Baptismo also, and neither man secure justice. Once started, andtwo might swing as lightly as one.
"Why," bawled a man close to Johnson, "Bass, he done confessed. We donemade him."
"You've made a mistake--" said Lafe, but they swept by him.
In the turmoil Baptismo edged off. Perceiving it, Johnson stuck a gun tohis head and ordered him to ride in front or there would be no trial norany chance for justice--simply a speedy arraignment before the JudgmentSeat for Baptismo. Then he urged his horse into the thickest of the moband, despite some rough handling, cut the rope by which the prisoner wasbeing dragged.
"Men," he cried, "if you hang him, you've got to put me out of the wayfirst. This man never killed Jerry Sellers."
Not one man in a hundred but would have been taken at his word. Theyhesitated, but the sheriff sat his horse coolly in the midst of it all,and the half-breed clung at his knee. It was impossible to argue againstthe outcry, or to obtain anything coherent from the medley of shouts.
In his agony of suspense Baptismo drew a pair of dice from the pocketof his chaps and began to click them in his hand. It was characteristicof the half-breed that he should be able to smile brilliantly upon thecrowd even when most fearful. The sheriff saw the dice. His face lightedand he thrust forward again, shouting for quiet.
"You say that Bass is guilty. You say he's confessed. I say that I'vegot the murderer here. You want to hang Mordecai without a trial. I wanta trial--a trial for both--and that's all we'll need. Let's throw dice."
It is probable that not more than four or five of the mob caughtJohnson's words, but they happened to be in the forefront, and when theyhalted, progress was immediately arrested.
"Throw dice?" one asked eagerly. "Thunderation, what for?"
"You think this man killed Jerry Sellers. I know that Baptismo killedhim. I've got Baptismo here. Let the two of 'em throw dice to see whichis innocent. If Baptismo didn't kill him--why, he just couldn't throwlowest."
The leaders looked at one another. It was just such a suggestion asappealed to their heated minds. They began to argue and Lafe breathed inrelief. When men start argument, action need not be feared immediately.Gradually order was restored. Everybody waited on the man who held therope, who was spokesman.
"I ain't so sure," said he, "that this'll prove anything. But we aim tohang this feller Bass. You aim to hang that yellow-belly. If it'sagreeable to them, I reckon we cain't raise any objections. We'll have ahanging anyhow, and Jerry'll rest easier."
Baptismo still clicked the dice automatically. He wetted his lips andassured them in a dry voice that this would be satisfactory to him andeminently fair. Perhaps Baptismo was not unbiased. The dice were his,and he knew that if held in a certain position in the palm of the hand,they could be thrown to suit the needs of the player.
Their minds diverted by the possibilities of this trial by luck, thecrowd fell in quickly with the suggestion. It savored of the roughjustice to which they were accustomed, and if the parties principallyconcerned were willing, why should they withhold sanction to the ordeal?Moreover, it gave an opportunity for divine intervention.
Johnson got down from his horse and removed the rope from Mordecai'sneck.
"Here, you! Wake up!" cried several, shaking him by the shoulders.Somebody shoved a bottle to his lips and he groaned and speedilyrevived. Then they explained to him as clearly as several tonguestalking at once could do, what the nature of the test was.
"I reckon you'll hang me anyhow, if I don't?" he asked.
They signified that such was their intent.
"Then, of course, I'll throw," said he. "It ain't fair, but it's my onlychance."
Bass was still too weak to realize fully what was transpiring. The mobtook no account of this, but surged forward to the spot originallyselected for the hanging. It was a tree, which grew back of a flat rock.The advantage of this site was that the two could roll the dice on therock, and then the one who was guilty could be hanged from the treewithout further inconvenience.
Lafe went ahead, piloting the two principals by the arms, one on eachside of him. He placed them side by side in front of the rock. Thehalf-breed picked up the dice.
There was a pause, while the crowd looked to Bass.
"One will do as well as a hundred, I reckon," said he.
Baptismo gave a grunt of satisfaction and shook the dice in his hand.With a twist along his two first fingers he spun them on the rock. Adouble six! Twelve! A long sigh came from the crowd, and then they allbegan to talk. Somebody cheered. Assuredly this proved everything. Adouble six was the highest that could be thrown. Baptismo could not bebeaten. True, his throw might be tied--so, too, an elephant might fly.The odds against Bass seemed utterly hopeless. He looked at the dicedully for a minute and then turned to Lafe.
"I reckon I'm done for," said he, "but God knows I didn't do it."
"If you did," Johnson said, his eyes troubled, "you fight mighty wellfor a feller who'd stab in the back."
And then, before them all, Bass fell on his knees beside the rock andsank his face in his arms. None but Lafe knew that he was praying. Thecrowd thought that he had fainted from weakness and sought to rouse him,urging him to go on with the test. At last he rose.
"It ain't fair," he said in a loud voice, "it isn't fair. And the diceare loaded. But--well, I'll try. I'm innocent, and I reckon He'll see methrough, somehow."
Saying this, Bass rattled the dice in his hand and clapped them downwith all his strength. So violent was his passion that they rolled offthe rock upon the ground.
"The throw counts!" the crowd yelled--"the throw's got to count. He'strying to gain time."
Lafe bent to examine the dice. As he did so he began to shoutfrantically, and he waved the crowd back.
"Look there!" he yelled, and pointed to three pieces of ivory on theground.
The force of Bass's throw had broken a dice. One of them registered asix. The half of the other showed a six. And the broken half showed one.The total was thirteen. He had done the impossible; he had beaten thehalf-breed by a point.
Baptismo gazed down at the fragments in stupefaction. His mouth wasopen, but for a minute at least no sound came from it. Then hewhispered: "It's the judgment of God."
He collapsed and huddled in an abject heap, clasping Lafe's knees. Andin that position he sobbed out his confession. Yes, he had killedSellers--killed him there by the spring. They had long been enemies, andSellers had insulted him in front of Florence Steel. He had followedwhen Jerry went to the spring. Sellers was singing. Sellers had angeredthe girl and she urged him to pick a quarrel. When he struck, Florencewas coming down the path close behind. She saw it all, for she was quiteclose. He threw away the knife--he had found it--and ran to the barn.There he saw Bass coming from the bushes beside the spring. He knew ofMordecai's quarrel with Sellers, and when he perceived that Bass wasabout to ride off, he resolved to stay at the ranch.
"I reckon," said Lafe, as he and Bass moved along the homeward trailthat night, "I reckon you'd best leave Florence be, Mordecai. What doyou think? Seems to me she set more store by that feller swinging backthere."
"Don't," Bass entreated. "Yes, I reckon she did, Lafe. She must haveloved him a heap."
"Women are queer," said Lafe.
"Say," he said suddenly again, "if you were in the bushes there, youmust have seen the killing. Why didn't you speak out?"
His companion flushed and looked uncomfortable. Luckily it was dark.
"No, I didn't see who stabbed him, at all. I didn't see Baptismo there.I only saw Florence coming along the path. And I'd lent her my knife,and--"
Both were silent a long time. Their ponies went steadily forward, theirriders' legs occasionally touching. Finally Bass roused.
"What beats me," he said, "is how you happened to pick on Baptismo."
"Why," said Lafe, in a satisfied voice, "that was simple. I happened tosing that song. You know--'Oh, bury me not'--the one poor ol' Jerry wassinging when Baptismo sneaked up behind. I was shuffling the cards andhappened to look up sudden. And when I saw his face, I knew rightaway."
The Sheriff of Badger: A Tale of the Southwest Borderland Page 35
