by Max Brand
CHAPTER 4
Only one man in the crowd was old enough to recognize that yell, and theone man was Jasper Lanning. A great, singing happiness filled his heartand his throat. But the shouting of the men as they tumbled into theirsaddles cleared his brain. He called to Deputy Bill Dozier, who waskneeling beside the prostrate form of Buck Heath: "Call 'em off, Bill.Call 'em off, or, by the Lord, I'll take a hand in this! He done it inself-defense. He didn't even pull a gun on Buck. Bill, call 'em off!"
And Bill did it most effectually. He straightened, and then got up."Some of you fools get some sense, will you?" he called. "Buck ain'tdead; he's just knocked out!"
It brought them back, a shamefaced crew, laughing at each other."Where's a doctor?" demanded Bill Dozier.
Someone who had an inkling of how wounds should be cared for wasinstantly at work over Buck. "He's not dead," pronounced this authority,"but he's danged close to it. Fractured skull, that's what he's got.And a fractured jaw, too, looks to me. Yep, you can hear thebone grate!"
Jasper Lanning was in the midst of a joyous monologue. "You seen it,boys? One punch done it. That's what the Lannings are--the one-punchkind. And you seen him get to his gun? Handy! Lord, but it done me goodto see him mosey that piece of iron off'n his hip. And see him take thatsaddle? Where was you with your gal, Joe? Nowhere! Looked to me like--"
The voice of Bill Dozier broke in: "I want a posse. Who'll ride withBill Dozier tonight?"
It sobered Jasper Lanning. "What d'you mean by that?" he asked. "Didn'tthe boy fight clean?"
"Maybe," admitted Dozier. "But Buck may kick out. And if he dies they'sgot to be a judge talk to your boy. Come on. I want volunteers."
"Dozier, what's all this fool talk?"
"Don't bother me, Lanning. I got a duty to perform, ain't I? Think I'mgoing to let 'em say later on that anybody done this and then got awayfrom Bill Dozier? Not me!"
"Bill," said Jasper, "I read in your mind. You're lookin' for action,and you want to get it out of Andy."
"I want nothin' but to get him back."
"Think he'll let you come close enough to talk? He'll think you want himfor murder, that's what. Keep off of this boy, Bill. Let him hear thenews; then he'll come back well enough."
"You waste my time," said Bill, "and all the while a man that the lawwants is puttin' ground between him and Martindale. Now, boys, you hearme talk. Who's with Bill Dozier to bring back this milk-fed kid?"
It brought a snarl from Jasper Lanning. "Why don't you go after him byyourself, Dozier? I had your job once and I didn't ask no helperson it."
But Bill Dozier apparently had no liking for a lonely ride. He made hisdemand once more, and the volunteers came out. In five minutes he hadselected five sturdy men, and every one of the five was a man whose namewas known.
They went down the street of Martindale without shouting and at a steadylope which their horses could keep up indefinitely. Old Jasper followedthem to the end of the village and kept on watching through the duskuntil the six horsemen loomed on the hill beyond against the sky line.They were still cantering, and they rode close together like a tirelesspack of wolves. After this old Jasper went back to his house, and whenthe door closed behind him a lonely echo went through the place.
"Bah!" said Jasper. "I'm getting soft!"
In the meantime the posse went on, regardless of direction. There wereonly two possible paths for a horseman out of Martindale; east and westthe mountains blocked the way, and young Lanning had started north.Straight ahead of them the mountains shot up on either side of Grant'sPass, and toward this natural landmark Bill Dozier led the way. Not thathe expected to have to travel as far as this. He felt fairly certainthat the fugitive would ride out his horse at full speed, and then hewould camp for the night and make a fire.
Andrew Lanning was town bred and soft of skin from the work at theforge. When the biting night air got through his clothes he would needwarmth from a fire.
Bill Dozier led on his men for three hours at a steady pace until theycame to Sullivan's ranch house in the valley. The place was dark, butthe deputy threw a loose circle of his men around the house, and thenknocked at the front door. Old man Sullivan answered in his bare feet.Did he know of the passing of young Lanning? Not only that, but he hadsold Andrew a horse. It seemed that Andrew was making a hurried trip;that Buck Heath had loaned him his horse for the first leg of it, andthat Buck would call later for the animal. It had sounded strange, butSullivan was not there to ask questions. He had led Andrew to the corraland told him to make his choice.
"There was an old pinto in there," said Sullivan, "all leather in thathoss. You know him, Joe. Well, the boy runs his eye over the bunch, andthen picks the pinto right off. I said he wasn't for sale, but hewouldn't take anything else. I figured a stiff price, and then added ahundred to it. Lanning didn't wink. He took the horse, but he didn't paycash. Told me I'd have to trust him."
Bill Dozier bade Sullivan farewell, gathered his five before the house,and made them a speech. Bill had a long, lean face, a misty eye, and apair of drooping, sad mustaches. As Jasper Lanning once said: "BillDozier always looked like he was just away from a funeral or just goin'to one." This night the dull eye of Bill was alight.
"Gents," he said, "maybe you-all is disappointed. I heard some talkcomin' up here that maybe the boy had laid over for the night inSullivan's house. Which he may be a fool, but he sure ain't a plumbfool. But, speakin' personal, this trail looks more and more interestin'to me. Here he's left Buck's hoss, so he ain't exactly a hossthief--yet. And he's promised to pay for the pinto, so that don't makehim a crook. But when the pinto gives out, Andy'll be in country wherehe mostly ain't known. He can't take things on trust, and he'll mostlytake 'em, anyway. Boys, looks to me like we was after the real article.Anybody weakenin'?"
It was suggested that the boy would be overtaken before the pinto gaveout; it was even suggested that this waiting for Andrew Lanning tocommit a crime was perilously like forcing him to become a criminal. Toall of this the deputy listened sadly, combing his mustaches. The hungerfor the manhunt is like the hunger for food, and Bill Dozier had beenstarved for many a day.
"Partner," said Bill to the last speaker, "ain't we makin' all thespeed we can? Ain't it what I want to come up to the fool kid and grabhim before he makes a hoss thief or somethin' out of himself? You gentsfeed your hosses the spur and leave the thinkin' to me. I got a pileof hunches."
There was no questioning of such a known man as Bill Dozier. The sixwent rattling up the valley at a smart pace. Yet Andy's change of horsesat Sullivan's place changed the entire problem. He had ridden his firstmount to a stagger at full speed, and it was to be expected that, havingbuilt up a comfortable lead, he would settle his second horse to asteady pace and maintain it.
All night the six went on, with Bill Dozier's long-striding chestnutsetting the pace. He made no effort toward a spurt now. Andrew Lanningled them by a full hour's riding on a comparatively fresh horse, and,unless he were foolish enough to indulge in another wild spurt, theycould not wear him down in this first stage of the journey. There wasonly the chance that he would build a fire recklessly near to the trail,but still they came to no sign of light, and then the dawn broke andBill Dozier found unmistakable signs of a trotting horse which wentstraight up the valley. There were no other fresh tracks pointing in thesame direction, and this must be Andy's horse. And the fact that he wastrotting told many things. He was certainly saving his mount for a longgrind. Bill Dozier looked about at his men in the gray morning. Theywere a hard-faced lot; he had not picked them for tenderness. They wereweary now, but the fugitive must be still wearier, for he had fear tokeep him company and burden his shoulders.
And now they came to a surprising break in the trail. It twisted fromthe floor of the valley up a steep slope, crossed the low crest of thehills, and finally came out above a broad and open valley.
"What does he mean," said Bill Dozier aloud, "by breakin' for JackMerchant's house?"
