CHAPTER XXVI
SPECIAL
Overland, leaning on his shovel, drew his sleeve across his forehead."Reckon I'll go down and wake Collie. He'll sleep his head off and feelworse 'n thunder."
"I'll go," said Winthrop, throwing aside a pan of dirt with a finedisregard of its eventual value. "I want some tobacco, anyway."
"Fetch a couple of sticks of dynamite along, Billy. I'll put in one moreshot for to-night."
A distant, reverberating report caused the two men to jerk intoattitudes of tense surprise.
"What the hell!" exclaimed Overland, running toward the tent. "Thatwasn't the kid. Collie's only packin' a automatic, and here it is."
He stopped in the tent-door, grabbed up the gun and belt, and ran downthe canon, Winthrop following breathlessly. Near the notch he paused,motioning Winthrop to one side. "Mebby it was to draw us on. You keepthere, Billy. I'll poke ahead."
But Overland did not go far. He almost stumbled over the prone figure ofCollie. With a cry he tore his handkerchief from his throat and pluggedthe wound. "Clean through," he said, getting to his feet. "Get thewhiskey."
"Shan't I help you carry him?" queried Winthrop.
Overland shook his head. "Get the whiskey and get a fire goin'. I'llbring him."
"Will he--live?" asked Winthrop, hesitating.
"I reckon not, Billy. He was plugged from behind--close--and cleanthrough. Here's the slug."
Then Overland picked up the limp form. So this was the end of all hisplanning and his toil? He cursed himself for having urged Collie to cometo the desert. He strode carefully, bent with the weight of thatshattered body. He felt that he had lost more than the visible Collie;that he had lost the inspiration, the ideal, the grip on hope that hadheld him toward the goal of good endeavor. His old-time recklessnessswept down upon him like the tides, submerging his better self. Yet heheld steadily to one idea. He would do all that he could to saveCollie's life. Failing in that ... there would be a red reckoning. Afterthat he would not care what came.
Already he had planned to send Winthrop, in his big car, for a doctor.The car was at the desert town, where a liveryman accepted a royalmonthly toll in advance to care for it.
At the tent Overland laid Collie on the blankets, bathed and bandagedthe wound, and watched his low pulse quicken to the stimulant that hegave him in small doses.
"It's the shock as much as the wound," said Overland. "He got it close,and from behind--_from behind_ do you hear?"
Winthrop, startled by the other's intensity, stammered: "What shall Ido? What shall I do?"
Overland bit his nails and scowled. "You will ride to town. Collie'shoss is here. Take the Guzzuh and burn the road for Los and get adoctor. Not a pill doctor, but a knife man. Bring the car clean backhere to the range. To hell with the chances."
Winthrop slipped into his coat and filled a canteen.
"If that horse throws me--" he began.
"You got to ride. You _got_ to, understand? I dassent leave him."
Down in the meadow Overland saddled the pony Yuma. He mounted and shehad her "spell" of bucking. "Now, take her and ride," said Overland."After you hit the level, let her out and hang on. If any one tries tostick you up this time--why, jest nacherally _plug_ 'em. Sabe?"
Winthrop nodded.
Two hours later a wild-eyed, sweating pony tore through the desert townat a run. Her rider slid to the ground as the liveryman grabbed thepony's bridle.
"Take--care--of her," gasped Winthrop. "I want--the machine."
"Anybody hurt?"
"Yes. Who did that?"
Winthrop stood with mouth open and eyes staring. The tires of the bigmachine were flat.
"I dunno. I watched her every day. I sleep here nights. Las' Sunday Iwas over to Daggett."
"And left no one in charge?"
"The boy was here."
"Well--the job is done. Take care of the horse. I'll be back in aminute."
At the station Winthrop wired for a special car and engine. He gave hischeck for the amount necessary and went back to the stable. He wasworking at the damaged tires when the agent appeared. "Special's at theJunction now. Be here in five minutes."
Winthrop climbed to the engine-cab. "I'll give you ten dollars for everyminute you cut from the regular passenger schedule," he said.
The engineer nodded. "Get back on the plush and hang on," was his briefacknowledgment.
* * * * *
It was dark when the surgeon, drying his hands, came from the canonstream to the tent. "That's about all I can do now," he said, slippinginto his coat.
Overland, who was sitting on a box beside the tent, stood up andstretched himself. "Is he goin' to make it?" he asked.
"I can't say. He is young, in good condition, and strong. If you willget me some blankets, I'll turn in. Call me in about two hours."
Overland Red: A Romance of the Moonstone Cañon Trail Page 27
