Way of the Lawless

by Max Brand

  CHAPTER 20

  It was a truth long after wondered at, when the story of Andrew Lanningwas told and retold, that he had lain in perfect security within asix-hour ride from Tomo, while Hal Dozier himself combed the mountainsand hundreds more were out hunting fame and fortune. To be sure, when astranger approached, Andrew always withdrew into the horse shed; but,beyond keeping up a steady watch during the day, he had little to do andlittle to fear.

  Indeed, at night he made no pretense toward concealment, but slept quiteopenly on the floor on the bed of hay and blankets, just as Hank Rainerslept on the farther side of the room. And the great size of the rewardwas the very thing that kept him safe. For when men passed the cabin, asthey often did, they were riding hard to get away from Tomo and into thehigher mountains, where the outlaw might be, or else they were comingback to rest up, and their destination in such a case was always Tomo.The cabin of the trapper was just near enough to the town to escapebeing used as a shelter for the night by stray travelers. If they gotthat close, they went on to the hotel.

  But often they paused long enough to pass a word with Hank, and Andrew,from his place behind the door of the horse shed, could hear it all. Hecould even look through a crack and see the faces of the strangers. Theytold how Tomo was wrought to a pitch of frenzied interest by thismanhunt. Well-to-do citizens, feeling that the outlaw had insulted thetown by so boldly venturing into it, had raised a considerablecontribution toward the reward. Other prominent miners and cattlemen ofthe district had come forward with similar offers, and every day theprice on the head of Andrew mounted to a more tempting figure.

  It was a careless time for Andrew. After that escape from Tomo he wasnot apt to be perturbed by his present situation, but the suspenseseemed to weigh more and more heavily upon the trapper. Hank Rainer wasso troubled, indeed, that Andrew sometimes surprised a half-guilty,half-sly expression in the eyes of his host. He decided that Hank wasanxious for the day to come when Andrew would ride off and take hisperilous company elsewhere. He even broached the subject to Hank, butthe mountaineer flushed and discarded the suggestion with a wave of hishand. "But if a gang of 'em should ever hunt me down, even in yourcabin, Hank," said Andrew one day--it was the third day of hisstay--"I'll never forget what you've done for me, and one of these daysI'll see that Uncle Jasper finds out about it."

  The little, pale-blue eyes of the trapper went swiftly to and fro, as ifhe sought escape from this embarrassing gratitude.

  "Well," said he, "I've been thinkin' that the man that gets you, Andy,won't be so sure with his money, after all. He'll have your Uncle Jasperon his trail pronto, and Jasper used to be a killer with a gun in theold days."

  "No more," smiled Andrew. "He's still steady as a rock, but he hasn'tthe speed any more. He's over seventy, you see. His joints sort of creakwhen he tries to move with a snap."

  "Ah," muttered the trapper, and again, as he started through the opendoor, "Ah!"

  Then he added: "Well, son, you don't need Jasper. If half what they sayis true, you're a handy lad with the guns. I suppose Jasper showed youhis tricks?"

  "Yes, and we worked out some new ones together. Uncle Jasper raised mewith a gun in my hand, you might say."

  "H'm!" said Hank Rainer.

  When they were sitting at the door in the semidusk, he reverted to theidea. "You been seein' that squirrel that's been runnin' across theclearin'?"

  "Yes."

  "I'd like to see you work your gun, Andy. It was a sight to talk aboutto watch Jasper, and I'm thinkin' you could go him one better. S'poseyou stand up there in the door with your back to the clearin'. The nexttime that squirrel comes scootin' across I'll say, 'Now!' and you try toturn and get your gun on him before he's out of sight. Will youtry that?"

  "Suppose some one hears it?" "Oh, they're used to me pluggin' away forfun over here. Besides, they ain't anybody lives in hearin'."

  And Andrew, falling into the spirit of the contest, stood up in thedoor, and the old tingle of nerves, which never failed to come over himin the crisis, was thrilling through his body again. Then Hank barkedthe word, "Now!" and Andrew whirled on his heel. The word had served toalarm the squirrel as well. As he heard it, he twisted about like thesnapping lash of a whip and darted back for cover, three yards away. Hecovered that distance like a little gray streak in the shadow, butbefore he reached it the gun spoke, and the forty-five-caliber slugstruck him in the middle and tore him in two. Andrew, hearing a sharpcrackling, looked down at his host and observed that the trapper hadbitten clean through the stem of his corncob.

  "That," said the red man huskily, "is some shootin'."

  But he did not look up, and he did not smile. And it troubled Andrew tohear this rather grudging praise.

  In the meantime, three days had put the gelding in very fair condition.He was enough mustang to recuperate swiftly, and that morning he hadtried with hungry eagerness to kick the head from Andrew's shoulders.This had decided the outlaw. Besides, in the last day there had beenfewer and fewer riders up and down the ravine, and apparently the huntfor Andrew Lanning had journeyed to another part of the mountains. Itseemed an excellent time to begin his journey again, and he told thetrapper his decision to start on at dusk the next day.

  The announcement brought with it a long and thoughtful pause.

  "I wisht I could send you on your way with somethin' worthwhile," saidHank Rainer at length. "But I ain't rich. I've lived plain and workedhard, but I ain't rich. So what I can give you, Andy, won't be much."

  Andrew protested that the hospitality had been more than a generousgift, but Hank Rainer, looking straight out the door, continued: "Well,I'm goin' down the road to get you my little gift, Andy. Be back in anhour maybe."

  "I'd rather have you here to keep me from being lonely," said Andrew."I've money enough to buy what I want, but money will never buy me thetalk of an honest man, Hank."

  The other started. "Honest enough, maybe," he said bitterly. "Buthonesty don't get you bread or bacon, not in this world!"

  And presently he stamped into the shed, saddled his pony, and after amoment was scattering the pebbles on the way down the ravine. The darkand silence gathered over Andrew Lanning. He had little warmth offeeling for Hank Rainer, to be sure, but the hush of the cabin he lookedforward to many a long evening and many a long day in a silence likethis, with no man near him. For the man who rides outside the lawrides alone.

  He could have embraced the big man, therefore, when Hank finally cameback, and Andrew could hear the pony panting in the shed, a sure signthat it had been ridden hard.

  "It ain't much," said Hank, "but it's yours, and I hope you get a chanceto use it in a pinch." And he dumped down a case of .45 cartridges.

  After all, there could have been no gift more to the point, but it gaveAndrew a little chill of distaste, this reminder of the life that layahead of him. And in spite of himself he could not break the silencethat began to settle over the cabin again. Finally Hank announced thatit was bedtime for him, and, preparing himself by the simple expedientof kicking off his boots and then drawing off his trousers, he slippedinto his blankets, twisted them tightly around his broad shoulders witha single turn of his body, and was instantly snoring. Andrew followedthat example more slowly. Not since he left Martindale, however, had heslept soundly. Take a tame dog into the wilderness and he learns tosleep like a wolf quickly enough; and Andrew, with mind and nerveconstantly set for action like a cocked revolver, had learned to sleeplike a wild thing in turn. And accordingly, when he wakened in themiddle of the night, he was alert on the instant. He had a singularfeeling that someone had been looking at him while he slept.