The Young Forester

by Zane Grey

  XV. THE FIGHT

  Herky hauled me out of the brush, and held me in the light. Theothers scrambled from under the remains of the loft, and all viewed mecuriously.

  "Kid, you ain't hurt much?" queried Buell, with concern.

  I would have snapped out a reply, but I caught sight of Dick's pale faceand anxious eyes.

  "Ken," he called, with both gladness and doubt in his voice, "you lookpretty good--but that blood.... Tell me, quick!"

  "It's nothing, Dick, only a little cut. The bullet just ticked my arm."

  Whatever Dick's reply was it got drowned in Herky-Jerky's long explosionof strange language. Herky was plainly glad I had not been badly hurt. Ihad already heard mirth, anger, disgust, and fear in his outbreaks, andnow relief was added. He stripped off my coat, cut off the bloody sleeveof my shirt, and washed the wound. It was painful and bled freely, butit was not much worse than cuts from spikes when playing ball. Herkybound it tightly with a strip of my shirt-sleeve, and over that myhandkerchief.

  "Thar, kid, thet'll stiffen up an' be sore fer a day or two, but itain't nothin'. You'll soon be bouncin' clubs offen our heads."

  It was plain that Herky--and the others, for that matter, exceptBuell--thought more of me because I had wielded a club so vigorously.

  "Look at thet lump, kid," said Bud, bending his head. "Now, ain't thet anice way to treat a feller? It made me plumb mad, it did."

  "I'm likely to hurt somebody yet," I declared.

  They looked at me curiously. Buell raised his face with a queer smile.Bud broke into a laugh.

  "Oh, you're goin' to? Mebbe you think you need an axe," said he.

  They made no offer to tie me up then. Bud went to the door and sat init, and I heard him half whisper to Buell: "What 'd I tell you? Thet'sa game kid. If he ever wakes up right we'll have a wildcat on our hands.He'll do fer one of us yet." These men all took pleasure in sayingthings like this to Buell. This time Buell had no answer ready, and satnursing his head. "Wal, I hev a little headache myself, an' the crack Igot wasn't nothin' to yourn," concluded Bud. Then Bill began packing thesupplies indoors, and Herky started a fire. Bud kept a sharp eye on me;still, he made no objection when I walked over and lay down upon theblankets near Dick.

  "Dick, I shot a bear and helped to tie up a cub," I said. And then Itold him all that had happened from the time I scrambled out of thespring-hole till I was discovered up in the loft. Dick shook his head,as if he did not know what to make of me, and all he said was that hewould give a year's pay to have me safe back in Pennsylvania.

  Herky-Jerky announced supper in his usual manner--a challenge to findas good a cook as he was, and a cheerful call to "grub." I did notknow what to think of his kindness to me. Remembering how he had nearlydrowned me in the spring, I resented his sudden change. He could not doenough for me. I asked the reason for my sudden popularity.

  Herky scratched his head and grinned. "Yep, kid, you sure hev riz in myestimashun."

  "Hey, you rummy cow-puncher," broke in Bud, scornfully. "Mebbe you'dlike the kid more'n you do if you'd got one of them wollops."

  "Bud, I ain't sayin'," replied Herky, with his mouth full of meat."Considerin' all points, howsoever, I'm thinkin' them wallops wasdistributed very proper."

  They bandied such talk between them, and occasionally Bill chimedin with a joke. Greaser ate in morose silence. There must have beensomething on his mind. Buell took very little dinner, and appeared to bein pain. It was dark when the meal ended. Bud bound me up for the night,and he made a good job of it. My arm burned and throbbed, but not badlyenough to prevent sleep. Twice I had nearly dropped off when loud laughsor voices roused me. My eyes closed with a picture of those rough, darkmen sitting before the fire.

  A noise like muffled thunder burst into my slumber. I awakened with mybody cramped and stiff. It was daylight, and something had happened.Buell ran in and out of the cabin yelling at his men. All of them exceptHerky were wildly excited. Buell was abusing Bud for something, and Budwas blaming Buell.

  "Thet's no way to talk to me!" said Bud, angrily. "He didn't break loosein my watch!'

  "You an' Greaser had the job. Both of you--went to sleep--take thet fromme!"

  "Wal, he's gone, an' he took the kid's gun with him," said Bill, coolly."Now we'll be dodgin' bullets."

  Dick Leslie had escaped! I could hardly keep down a cry of triumph. Idid ask if it was true, but none of them paid any attention to me. Buellthen ordered Herky-Jerky to trail Dick and see where he had gone. Herkyrefused point-blank. "Nope. Not fer me," he said. "Leslie has a rifle.So has Bent, an' we haven't one among us. An', Buell, if Leslie falls inwith Bent, it's goin' to git hot fer us round here."

  This silenced Buell, but did not stop his restless pacings. His face waslike a thunder-cloud, and he was plainly worried and harassed. Once Buddeliberately asked what he intended to do with me, and Buell snarled areply which no one understood. His gloom extended to the others, exceptHerky, who whistled and sang as he busied himself about the campfire.Greaser appeared to be particularly cast down.

  "Buell, what are you going to do with me?" I demanded. But he made noanswer.

  "Well, anyway," I went on, "somebody cut these ropes. I'm mighty soreand uncomfortable."

  Herky-Jerky did not wait for permission; he untied me, and helped me tomy feet. I was rather unsteady on my legs at first, and my injured armfelt like a board. It seemed dead; but after I had moved it a little thepain came back, and it had apparently come to stay. We ate breakfast,and then settled down to do nothing, or to wait for something to turnup. Buell sat in the doorway, moodily watching the trail. Once he spoke,ordering the Mexican to drive in the horses. I fancied from this thatBuell might have decided to break camp, but there was no move to pack.

  The morning quiet was suddenly split by the stinging crack of a rifleand a yell of agony.

  Buell leaped to his feet, his ruddy face white.

  "Greaser!" he exclaimed.

  "Thet was about where Greaser cashed," relied Bill, coolly knocking theashes from his pipe.

  "No, Bill, you're wrong. Here comes Greaser, runnin' like an Indian."

  "Look at the blood! He's been plugged, all right!" exclaimedHerky-Jerky.

  The sound of running feet drew nearer, and suddenly the group at thedoor broke to admit the Mexican. One side of his terrified facewas covered with blood. His eyes were staring, his hands raised, hestaggered as if about to fall.

  "Senyor William! Senyor William!" he cried, and then called on SaintSomebody.

  "Jim Williams! I said so," muttered Bud.

  Bill caught hold of the excited Mexican, and pulled him nearer thelight.

  "Thet ain't a bad hurt. Jest cut his ear off!" aid Bill. "Hyar, standstill, you wild man! you're not goin' to die. Git some water, Herky.Fellers, Greaser has been oneasy ever since he knew Jim Williams waslookin' fer him. He thinks Jim did this. But Jim Williams don't use arifle, an', what's more, when he shoots he don't miss. You all heerd therifle-shot."

  "Then it was old Bent or Leslie?" questioned Buell.

  "Leslie it were. Bent uses a 45-90 caliber. Thet shot we heerd was fromthe little 38--the kid's gun."

  "Wal, it was a narrer escape fer Greaser," said Bud. "Leslie's sore, an'he'll shoot fer keeps. Buell, you've started somethin'."

  When Bill had washed the blood off the Mexican it was found that theball had carried away the lower part of the ear, and with it, ofcourse, the gold earring. The wound must have been extremely painful;it certainly took all the starch out of Greaser. He kept mumbling in hisown language, and rolling his wicked black eyes and twisting his thin,yellow hands.

  "What's to be done?" asked Buell, sharply.

  "Thet's fer you to say," replied Bill, with his exasperating calmness.

  "Must we hang up here to be shot at? Leslie's takin' a long chance onthet kid's life if he comes slingin' lead round this cabin."

  Herky-Jerky spat tobacco-juice across the room and grunted. Then, withhis beady little eyes as keen and col
d as flint, he said: "Buell, Leslieknows you daren't harm the kid; an' as fer bullets, he'll take good carewhere he stings 'em. This deal of ours begins to look like a wild-goosestunt. It never was safe, an' now it's worse."

  Here was even Herky-Jerky harping on Buell's situation. To me it did notappear much more serious than before. But evidently they thought Buellseemed on the verge of losing control of himself. He glared at Herky,and rammed his fists in his pockets and paced the long room. Presentlyhe stepped out of the door.

  A rifle cracked clear and sharp, another bellowed out heavy and hollow.A bullet struck the door-post, a second hummed through the door andbudded into the log wall. Buell jumped back into the room. His faceworked, his breath hissed between his teeth, as with trembling handhe examined the front of his coat. A big bullet had torn through bothlapels.

  Bill stuck his pudgy finger in the hole. "The second bullet made thet.It was from old Hiram's gun--a 45-90!"

  "Bent an' Leslie! My God! They're shootin' to kill!" cried Buell.

  "I should smile," replied Herky-Jerky.

  Bud was peeping out through a chink between the logs. "I got theirsmoke," he said; "look, Bill, up the slope. They're too fur off, but wemay as well send up respects." With that he aimed his revolver throughthe narrow crack and deliberately shot six times. The reports clappedlike thunder, the smoke from burnt powder and the smell of brimstonefilled the room. By way of reply old Hiram's rifle boomed out twice, andtwo heavy slugs crashed through the roof, sending down a shower of dustand bits of decayed wood.

  "Thet's jist to show what a 45-90 can do," remarked Bill.

  Bud reloaded his weapon while Bill shot several times. Herky-Jerkyhad his gun in hand, but contented himself with peering from differentchinks between the logs. I hid behind the wide stone fireplace, andthough I felt pretty safe from flying bullets, I began to feel the icygrip of fear. I had seen too much of these men in excitement, and knewif circumstances so brought it about there might come a moment whenmy life would not be worth a pin. They were all sober now, and deadlyquiet. Buell showed the greatest alarm, though he had begun to settledown to what looked like fight. Herky was more fearless than any ofthem, and cooler even than Bill. All at once I missed the Mexican. Ifhe had not slipped out of the room he had hidden under the brush of thefallen loft or in a pile of blankets. But the room was smoky, and it washard for me to be certain.

  Some time passed with no shots and with no movement inside the cabin.Slowly the blue smoke wafted out of the door. The sunlight danced ingleams through the holes in the ragged roof. There was a pleasant swishof pine branches against the cabin.

  "Listen," whispered Bud, hoarsely. "I heerd a pony snort."

  Then the rapid beat of hard hoofs on the trail was followed by severalshots from the hillside. Soon the clatter of hoofs died away in thedistance.

  "Who was thet?" asked three of Buell's men in unison.

  "Take it from me, Greaser's sneaked," replied Buell.

  "How'd he git out?"

  With that Bud and Bill began kicking in the piles of brush.

  "Aha! Hyar's the place," sang out Bud.

  In one corner of the back wall a rotten log had crumbled, and here itwas plain to all eyes that Greaser had slipped out. I remembered thaton this side of the cabin there was quite a thick growth of youngpine. Greaser had been able to conceal himself as he crawled toward thehorses, and had probably been seen at the last moment. Herky-Jerky wasthe only one to make comment.

  "I ain't wishin' Greaser any hard luck, but hope he carried away acouple Of 45-90 slugs somewheres in his yaller carcass."

  "It'd be worth a lot to the feller who can show me a way out of thismess," said Buell, mopping the beads of sweat from his face.

  I got up--it seemed to me my mind was made up for me--and walked intothe light of the room.

  "Buell, I can show you the way," I said, quietly.

  "What!" His mouth opened in astonishment. "Speak up, then."

  The other men stepped forward, and I felt their eyes upon me.

  "Let me go free. Let me out of here to find Dick Leslie! Then when yougo to jail in Holston for stealing lumber I'll say a good word for youand your men. There won't be any charge of kidnapping or violence."

  After a long pause, during which Buell bored me with gimlet eyes, hesaid, in a queer voice: "Say thet again."

  I repeated it, and added that he could not gain anything now by holdingme a prisoner. I think he saw what I meant, but hated to believe it.

  "It's too late," I said, as he hesitated.

  "You mean Leslie lied an' you fooled me--you did get to Holston?" heshouted. He was quivering with rage, and the red flamed in his neck andface.

  "Buell, I did get to Holston and I did send word to Washington," Iwent on, hurriedly for I had begun to lose my calmness. "I wrote tomy father. He knows a friend of the Chief Forester who is close to theDepartment at Washington. By this time Holston is full of officers ofthe forest service. Perhaps they're already at your mill. Anyway, thegame's up, and you'd better let me go."

  Buell's face lost all its ruddy color, slowly blanched, and changedterribly. The boldness fled, leaving it craven, almost ghastly.Realizing he had more to fear from the law than conviction of his latestlumber steal, he made at me in blind anger.

  "Hold on!" Herky-Jerky yelled, as he jumped between Buell and me.

  Buell's breath was a hiss, and the words he bit between his clinchedteeth were unintelligible. In that moment he would have killed me.

  Herky-Jerky met his onslaught, and flung him back. Then, with his handon the butt of his revolver, he spoke:

  "Buell, hyar's where you an' me split. You've bungled your big deal. Thekid stacked the deck on you. But I ain't a-goin' to see you do him harmfer it."

  "Herky's right, boss," put in Bill, "thar's no sense in addin' murder tothis mess. Strikes me you're in bad enough."

  "So thet's your game? You're double-crossin' me now--all on a chance atkidnappin' for ransom money. Well, I'm through with the kid an' all ofyou. Take thet from me!"

  "You skunk!" exclaimed Herky-Jerky, with the utmost cheerfulness.

  "Wal, Buell," said Bill, in cool disdain, "comsiderin' my fondness ferfresh air an' open country, I can't say I'm sorry to dissolve futurerelashuns. I was only in jail onct, an' I couldn't breathe free."

  It was then Buell went beside himself with rage. He raised his hugefists, and shook himself, and plunged about the room, cursing. Suddenlyhe picked up an axe, and began chopping at the rotten log above thehole where Greaser had slipped out. Bud yelled at him, so did Bill;Herky-Jerky said unpleasant things. But Buell did not hear them. Hehacked and dug away like one possessed. The dull, sodden blows fellfast, scattering pieces of wood about the floor. The madness that wasin Buell was the madness to get out, to escape the consequences of hisacts. His grunts and pants as he worked showed his desperate energy.Then he slammed the axe against the wall, and, going down flat, began tocrawl through the opening. Buell was a thick man, and the hole appearedtoo small. He stuck in it, but he squeezed and flattened himself,finally worked through, and disappeared.

  A sudden quiet fell upon his departure.

  "Hands up!"

  Jim Williams's voice! It was strange to see Herky and Bud flash up theirarms without turning. But I wheeled quickly. Bill, too, had his handshigh in the air.

  In the sunlight of the doorway stood Jim Williams. Low down, carelessly,it seemed, he held two long revolvers. He looked the same easy, slowTexan I remembered. But the smile was not now in his eyes, and his lipswere set in a thin, hard line.