CHAPTER XIV
A BAD MAN
As Jack and Joe and three or four of the older men lounged around thefire a night or two after that, most of the younger boys having gone totheir blankets, McIntyre turned to Hugh.
"Who do you suppose I saw to-day on the range?" he asked.
Hugh looked up inquiringly.
"Claib Wood."
"What's he doing here?" asked Hugh. "I thought he'd been run out of thecountry and had gone to stay."
"Oh, well," said McIntyre, "that's what most of us thought, I guess.He got a warning from the people around here and from the stockassociation that he'd do well to get out of the country; but I met himto-day, and he said 'Howdy' to me as chirk as you please. I didn't haveany talk with him, and I watched him kind o' close, for I didn't knowwhat he might be up to. He never turned his head, though, after hepassed; just rode on across country, and I saw him going for a mile ortwo before he got behind a hill."
"Well," drawled Hugh, "I reckon that this time he's not after calves.Maybe he's come down here to go in to the railroad and see if he can'tget some money out of that wife of his. Since he quit home abouta year ago, she's been doing well, and has got quite a nice littleeating-house there in town. Maybe he's heard about that and has comeback to make her give up to him."
"If that's what he's after," said McIntyre, "it's an infernal shame.I never had any use for these bad men that we used to have in thecountry, but I do wish now that somebody a little worse than Claibwould come along and kill him off."
When Hugh and McIntyre had begun talking, Jack Mason was lying on theground close to the fire, seemingly asleep, but presently he opened hiseyes and then rose to his elbow and listened intently. After a time heasked McIntyre if this was the Claib Wood who four or five years agoused to be around Rawlins.
"Yes," said McIntyre; "he's the man--little, sawed-off fellow withlight brown hair and a brown mustache; good cow hand and mighty quickwith a gun."
"I reckon that's the man," returned Mason.
He said nothing more for a little while. Jack was about to ask somequestion about the man, when Mason spoke again.
"I used to know Claib, but I haven't seen him for a good many years.Which way did you say he was going, Mac?"
"Well," answered McIntyre, "when I saw him he was just riding acrossthe prairie, but from the way he was headed I judged that he was goingin to the railroad."
"What time was it you passed him?"
"About two or three o'clock this afternoon. If he was going to townand rode fast, he'll be there by this time."
"Yes," Mason said, "so he will."
For a little while nothing more was said, and then Mason changed thesubject.
"Mac, I guess you'll have to give me my time," he said. "I've got to gointo town. I can't say sure when I'll be back, and I reckon maybe I'dbetter quit."
"What's the matter with you?" asked McIntyre, severely. "Ain't yousatisfied? Ain't you bein' well treated? Anything wrong with the pay?"
"No; nothing wrong with the pay, nothing wrong with the treatment. Onlyit just struck me that I've got some business to attend to in town, andI reckon I'd better do it now than wait until the round-up's over."
"I hate to lose you, Jack," McIntyre said. "Can't you go in and attendto your business and then come back? Take two or three days off. Thetown ain't so big but what you can do everything you're likely to haveto do in the course of twenty-four or forty-eight hours."
"Well," Mason replied, "maybe that's better. I'd like it better, if itsuits you; only it don't seem just right for a man to take time offright in the middle of the round-up, just to go into town after hisown affairs. So I thought, as I've got to go, maybe you'd rather haveme quit for good. Still, if you'll let me take three or four days off,it'll be lots handier for me. I'll leave my horses here with the bunch,and then come back when I get through."
"All right," agreed McIntyre. "Do it your own way."
"Good!" said Mason. "I may as well start now, and then I'll get intotown by daylight."
He rose from the fire and presently his cheery whistle was heard comingover the prairie from the direction of the horse herd, and a littlelater the men in the camp who were just dropping off to sleep heard himthrow the saddle on the horse and draw the latigos, and then came thesound of hoofs, trotting off over the prairie and growing fainter andfainter in the distance.
All night long Mason rode through the dark, under the clear stars. Itwas nearly twenty miles to the wagon road, and after he had reachedthat, it was more than twenty miles in to the railroad, but the sunhad not long risen when he trotted his tired horse down the stragglingstreet of the forlorn little town. As yet there was hardly a sign oflife there. Two or three pigs were rooting in piles of rubbish not farfrom the road; and a starved-looking cayuse stood humped up at the endof a picket-rope on a bit of prairie where once there had been grassbut which now was as bare as the palm of Mason's hand.
As Mason trotted along the street, the door of a house opened, and aman came out carrying a bucket. Mason drew up his horse.
"Hello! Ross," he called.
"Why, hello! Jack," the man replied. "What are you doing down here? Ihaven't seen you for a dog's age. Four or five years, isn't it, sinceyou were up in Rawlins?"
"Five years," said Mason; "and since then I've been away, up North, andnow I've drifted back again."
The two shook hands, and began to exchange news and experiences, eachtelling the other more or less of what had happened to him since theylast parted.
"Well," said Ross, "how long are you going to be in town? I want to seeyou before you go."
"I don't just know how long I'm going to be here; maybe for a day ortwo. I've got some business I want to attend to here, and as soon as Iget through with that I'm liable to move out again. There ain't much tohold me in this burgh."
"No," agreed Ross. "If I had any sort of a job in the open I'd tacklethat. By the way," he added, "did you know that Claib Wood was in town?Seems to me your brother and Claib had some trouble at Rawlins thatwinter we were all there."
Mason laughed.
"Sure they had some trouble; and just after it occurred Claib skipped.I never had a chance to speak to him about it. I heard the other daythat he was in the country, but I didn't know that he was here in town."
"He is," said Ross; "and if I were you I'd look out for him. Claib wasdrunk last night, and you know when he's drunk he's awful mean, and hecertainly is quick with a gun."
"So I always heard. He's quick with a gun, and he's mean; meaner, Iexpect, when he's drunk, but mean enough at any time. Now when he shotmy brother in Rawlins, they hadn't had any words, or any quarrel. Rufetold me when he got well that he never did know why Claib shot him, andI always made up my mind that if I ever saw Claib I'd ask him."
"Well, Jack," cautioned Ross, "if I were you I wouldn't do that. Iwouldn't have any words with Claib Wood. You're too good a man toquarrel with him, because if you do quarrel with him, you'll be liableto get killed quick."
"Oh, I don't expect that it's time yet for me to pass in my checks; butif I stay in town for twenty-four hours, and Claib is here, I can'thelp running up against him somewhere, and I reckon he won't forgetwhose brother I am."
"No," said Ross; "he won't; that's a sure thing. I'd like to have youavoid him, if you can. Of course, you can't leave town because he'shere, and you can't hide because he's here; but I do hope you won'tquarrel with him, for he's mighty mean and mighty quick."
"I'll have to do the best I can," replied Mason. "I don't want to getkilled, and I don't want to have to kill anybody. See you later, Ross."
He swung into the saddle, and fifty yards farther on turned into thelivery barn where he unsaddled his horse, watered it, tied it in astall and gave it some hay.
At the little eating-place where he went for breakfast he had to waita long time before anything was cooked, but about the middle of themorning he went back to Ross's house,
where he had a pleasant and longtalk with him, renewing old times. It was nearly noon when he went upthe street again and entered the saloon. Half a dozen men were there.One or two were sitting at card-tables poring over old newspapers;two were playing a game of cards; and one was standing in front of thecounter talking to the bar-tender. A glass of liquor which seemed justto have been filled rested on the counter directly in front of him. Theman standing there was Claib Wood. Mason walked quietly into the roomwithout receiving more than a casual glance from any one there, and wasstanding close to the counter before Wood saw him.
"Well, I'm darned, if this ain't Jack Mason!" Wood exclaimed. "Wheredid you come from?"
"Oh, I've been cutting little circles over the prairie between hereand the British line for five years now, Claib," Mason answered; "eversince the last time I saw you in Rawlins, just before you shot Rufe. Ialways wanted to ask you about that. How did you come to shoot him? Youdidn't have any quarrel with him, so far as I heard."
"Say, now, what's the matter with you, Jack?" exclaimed Claib. "Are youlooking for some of the medicine that Rufe got?"
Mason laughed merrily.
"Not a bit, Claib. I'm not looking for anything, without it's a littleinformation. Of course I've heard of bad men that would shoot a fellowdown just for meanness; but I never saw one, and I was wondering if youwere that kind of man. I was wondering, for example, if I were to turnaround and walk to the door here, whether you would plug me before Igot there? Now, I don't know anybody who can tell me about that as wellas you."
Claib's eyes were bloodshot from his excesses of the night before, andas Mason talked to him an ugly light seemed to glow in them and thesneer of his face grew more pronounced. The two men were standing faceto face rather close together. Claib's right hand and Mason's left handtoward the bar.
"See here, Jack," said Wood, "it looks to me like you're hunting fortrouble and trying to pick a quarrel with me, and I don't want nothingof the kind. I come in here to attend to my own business, and I reckonyou'd better clear out and attend to yours, if you've got any."
"Sure, I've got some," replied Mason; "but when I saw you in here, Ithought we could have a little friendly talk, and maybe you'd tell mewhy it was that you shot Rufe in Rawlins. As I say, I never could hearthat you had any quarrel."
"Well," said Claib--and his hand with a swiftness that the eye couldhardly follow, flew around to his hip; but it never reached the butt ofhis pistol; for Mason with lightning speed shot forward his left handand caught Claib by the wrist, while with his right hand he seized theglass of liquor resting on the bar and dashed it into Claib's face.Then he wrapped both arms around him, and called to Ross who had juststepped into the door.
"Take this man's gun and mine and keep them! This isn't going to be ashooting-match."
Ross snatched both pistols from their holsters and stood back.
For a moment the men whirled around over the bare floor in a rapiddance, and then Mason suddenly lifted Claib off the floor, held him foran instant in the air above his head, and then threw him an astonishingdistance. The man's head and shoulder coming in contact with theplastered wall burst a large hole in it and loosened some of theweather-boarding on the outside of the building.
Several of the men hastened to Wood and picked him up, expecting tofind that his neck was broken. He was senseless and on feeling him theyfound that his right arm and right collar-bone were broken and theshoulder out of place. None seemed to feel much sympathy for him; hewas too well known.
"Now," said Jim Decker, the proprietor of the hotel, "who's going topay that man's doctor's bills, and who's going to pay for that plasterthat you've knocked off, Jack Mason?"
"Why," returned Mason, smiling, "there isn't any doctor in town, sothere can't be any doctor's bills; and as for that plaster, if you'lltake one of those old newspapers and tack it over the hole, that'll dofine until cold weather comes. When cold weather comes, I'd put a boardover it, if I were you."
"Well," snorted Decker, "that's a great note! Coming in and breaking upa man's furniture this way!"
Mason laughed.
"Charge it up to expenses," he said; "that's just one of the incidentalexpenses of running a saloon."
Decker slouched away behind the counter, grumbling to himself.
By this time, applications of cold water had brought Wood to hissenses, but he was more or less dazed and confused. Jack Mason wentover and spoke to him.
"Claib, you've got some broken bones now, and you'll have to lie quietfor a while. There isn't any doctor in town, but I reckon Ross and mecan fix you up so you'll be all right, if there's a place for you tostay. Have you got any money?"
"Yes; I've got money enough. But what's the matter with you? Didn't youjust start a quarrel with me? And now I've got knocked out. Do you wantto mend me up again?"
"That's what," said Mason; "mend you up; and then if I ever havetrouble with you again, I won't stop at breaking your arm andcollar-bone. I'll break your neck and make it a sure thing that youwon't trouble this country any more; but don't let's talk about it now."
Three or four of the men carried Wood to the bedroom on the top floorof the hotel, and Mason and Ross, with the help of the station-agent,managed to set his arm in very good shape, to put the shoulder inplace and to bind the arm so that they would presumably do well. ThenJack Mason had a long talk with Ross and the proprietor and madearrangements for them to look after Wood until the railroad company'ssurgeon could be got hold of.
During the afternoon, Claib had a good deal of fever, and at timeswas delirious. Ross sat up with him during part of the night and wasrelieved by Mason, and in the morning the patient was much better andquite rational.
About the middle of the morning Mason came into the room, where Claibwas alone.
"Well, Claib," he said, "I see you're better and I reckon now thatyou'll get along all right. It won't take long for your bones to knit.I'm going off now, but I thought I'd come in and have a little talkwith you before I left. You're a pretty mean man, and you're prettyquick with your gun, and a pretty good cowboy. After you shot Rufe inRawlins I always made up my mind that I'd have a talk with you if weever met up together, and now I've had it. You're mean, and I expectthat when you get well maybe you'll try to get me; but if I were you Iwouldn't do it. You're quick, but it isn't any ways likely that you'rethe quickest man in the world, or even in Wyoming, or even in MedicineBow. You tried to draw yesterday, but you weren't quick enough. You maylay for me and get me in that way sometime, but if we ever meet and youtry any of your tricks with me, I'm more likely to get you than you areto get me; and I believe it would be a good idea for you to rememberthat. I don't want to kill you, but if I have to I will.
"Now I've been to see your wife this morning and I've told her thatyou're laid up, and she says she's willing to take care of you untilyou're able to get around. You won't be able to move for a week or twonow, and I told her she had better leave you here and just kind o' keeptrack of you, and see that you're comfortable, and not try to take youto her house. She's a good woman, Claib, and if you were smart you'd begood to her."
Claib made no reply to Mason's rather long speech, but his eyesglittered with anger. As Mason turned to go out of the room, Claibglared at him savagely.
"I'll git you yet, Jack Mason!" he cried.
"Better think it over, Claib," Mason called back cheerily.
Jack the Young Cowboy: An Eastern Boy's Experiance on a Western Round-up Page 16
