by Rex Beach
CHAPTER XIV. The Tale of a Cigarette
The open door revealed three men asleep on the earthen floor, two ofwhom were Mexicans. Mr. Cassidy then for the first time felt calledupon to relieve his companion of the Colt's which so sorely itched thatgentleman's thigh and then disarmed the sleeping guards.
"One man an' a half," murmured Mr. Cassidy, it being in his creed thatit took four Mexicans to make one Texan.
In the far corner of the room were two bronchos, one of which tried invain to kick Mr. Cassidy, not realizing that he was ten feet away. Thenoise awakened the sleepers, who sat up and then sprang to their feet,their hands instinctively streaking to their thighs for the weaponswhich peeked contentedly from the bosom of Mr. Cassidy's open shirt. Oneof the Mexicans made a lightning-like grab for the back of his neck forthe knife which lay along his spine and was shot in the front of hisneck for his trouble. The shot spoiled his aim, as the knife flashedpast Mr. Cassidy's arm, wide by two feet, and thudded into the doorframe, where it hummed angrily.
"The only man who could do that right was th' man who invented it, Mr.Bowie, of Texas," explained Mr. Cassidy to the other Mexican. Then heglanced at the broncho, that was squealing in rage and fear at the shot,which sounded like a cannon in the small room, and laughed.
"That's my cayuse, all right, an' he wasn't up no cactus nor roostin' onth' roof, neither. He's th' most affectionate beast I ever saw. It tookme nigh onto six months afore I could ride him without fighting him to astandstill," said Mr. Cassidy to his guest. Then he turned to the horseand looked it over. "Come here! What d'yu mean, acting thataway? Yuragged end of nothin' wobbling in space! Yu wall-eyed, ornery, locoedguide to Hades! Yu won't be so frisky when yu've made them seventy hotmiles between here an' Alkaline in five hours," he promised, as he madehis way toward the animal.
Mr. Travennes walked over to the opposite wall and took down a pouchof tobacco which hung from a peg. He did this in a manner suggestingownership, and after he had deftly rolled a cigarette with one hand heput the pouch in his pocket and, lighting up, inhaled deeply and withmuch satisfaction. Mr. Cassidy turned around and glanced the group over,wondering if the tobacco had been left in the hut on a former call.
"Did yu find yore makings?" He asked, with a note of congratulations inhis voice.
"Yep. Want one?" Asked Mr. Travennes.
Mr. Cassidy ignored the offer and turned to the guard whom he had foundasleep.
"Is that his tobacco?" He asked, and the guard, anxious to makeeverything run smoothly, told the truth and answered:
"Shore. He left it here last night," whereupon Mr. Travennes swore andMr. Cassidy smiled grimly.
"Then yu knows how yore cayuse got in an' how mine got out," said thelatter. "I wish yu would explain," he added, fondling his Colts.
Mr. Travennes frowned and remained silent.
"I can tell yu, anyhow," continued Mr. Cassidy, still smiling, but hiseyes and jaw belied the smile. "Yu took them cayuses out because yuwanted yourn to be found in their places. Yu remembered Santa Fe an'it rankled in yu. Not being man enough to notify me that yu'd shoot onsight an' being afraid my friends would get yu if yu plugged me on th'sly, yu tried to make out that me an' Red rustled yore cayuses. Thatmeant a lynching with me an' Red in th' places of honor. Yu never sawRed afore, but yu didn't care if he went with me. Yu don't deserve fairplay, but I'm going to give it to yu because I don't want anybody to saythat any of th' Bar-20 ever murdered a man, not even a skunk like yu.My friends have treated me too square for that. Yu can take this gun anyu can do one of three things with it, which are: walk out in th' opena hundred paces an' then turn an walk toward me--after you face me yu canset it a-going whenever yu want to; the second is, put it under yore hatan' I'll put mine an' th' others back by the cayuses. Then we'll tossup an' th' lucky man gets it to use as he wants. Th' third is, shootyourself."
Mr. Cassidy punctuated the close of his ultimatum by handing the weapon,muzzle first, and, because the other might be an adept at "twirling,"he kept its recipient covered during the operation. Then, placing hissecond Colt's with the captured weapons, he threw them through the door,being very careful not to lose the drop on his now armed prisoner.
Mr. Travennes looked around and wiped the sweat from his forehead, andbeing an observant gentleman, took the proffered weapon and walked tothe east, directly toward the sun, which at this time was halfway to themeridian. The glare of its straight rays and those reflected from theshining sand would, in a measure, bother Mr. Cassidy and interfere withthe accuracy of his aim, and he was always thankful for small favors.
Mr. Travennes was the possessor of accurate knowledge regarding the layof the land, and the thought came to him that there was a small but deephole out toward the east and that it was about the required distanceaway. This had been dug by a man who had labored all day in the burningsun to make an oven so that he could cook mesquite root in the mannerhe had seen the Apaches cook it. Mr. Travennes blessed hobbies, specificand general, stumbled thoughtlessly and disappeared from sight as thesurprised Mr. Cassidy started forward to offer his assistance.
Upon emphatic notification from the man in the hole that his help wasnot needed, Mr. Cassidy wheeled around and in great haste covered thedistance separating him from the hut, whereupon Mr. Travennes sworein self-congratulation and regret. Mr. Cassidy's shots barked a cactuswhich leaned near Mr. Travennes' head and flecked several clouds ofalkali near that person's nose, causing him to sneeze, duck, and grin.
"It's his own gun," grumbled Mr. Cassidy as a bullet passed through hissombrero, having in mind the fact that his opponent had a whole beltfull of .44's. If it had been Mr. Cassidy's gun that had been handed overhe would have enjoyed the joke on Mr. Travennes, who would have had fivecartridges between himself and the promised eternity, as he would havebeen unable to use the .44's in Mr. Cassidy's .45, while the latter wouldhave gladly consented to the change, having as he did an extra .45. Neverbefore had Mr. Cassidy looked with reproach upon his .45 caliber Colt's,and he sighed as he used it to notify Mr. Travennes that arbitrationwas not to be considered, which that person indorsed, said indorsementpassing so close to Mr. Cassidy's ear that he felt the breeze made byit.
"He's been practicin' since I plugged him up in Santa Fe," thought Mr.Cassidy, as he retired around the hut to formulate a plan of campaign.
Mr. Travennes sang "Hi-le, hi-lo," and other selections, principallyothers, and wondered how Mr. Cassidy could hoist him out. The slack ofhis belt informed him that he was in the middle of a fast, and suggestedstarvation as the derrick that his honorable and disgusted adversarymight employ.
Mr. Cassidy, while figuring out his method of procedure, absent-mindedlyjabbed a finger in his eye, and the ensuing tears floated an idea tohim. He had always had great respect for ricochet shots since his friendSkinny Thompson had proved their worth on the hides of Sioux. If hecould disturb the sand and convey several grains of it to Mr. Travennes'eyes the game would be much simplified. While planning for the proposedexcavation, a la Colt's, he noticed several stones lying near at hand,and a new and better scheme presented itself for his consideration.If Mr. Travennes could be persuaded to get out of--well, it was worthtrying.
Mr. Cassidy lined up his gloomy collection and tersely ordered them toturn their backs to him and to stay in that position, the suggestionbeing that if they looked around they wouldn't be able to dodge quicklyenough. He then slipped bits of his lariat over their wrists and ankles,tying wrists to ankles and each man to his neighbor. That finishedto his satisfaction, he dragged them in the hut to save them from theburning rays of the sun.
Having performed this act of kindness, he crept along the hot sand,taking advantage of every bit of cover afforded, and at last he reacheda point within a hundred feet of the besieged. During the tripMr. Travennes sang to his heart's content, some of the words beingimprovised for the occasion and were not calculated to increase Mr.Cassidy's respect for his own wisdom if he should hear them. Mr. Cassidyheard, however, and several
fragments so forcibly intruded on his peaceof mind that he determined to put on the last verse himself and to suithimself.
Suddenly Mr. Travennes poked his head up and glanced at the hut. He wasdown again so quickly that there was no chance for a shot at him andhe believed that his enemy was still sojourning in the rear of thebuilding, which caused him to fear that he was expected to live onnothing as long as he could and then give himself up. Just to show hisdefiance he stretched himself out on his back and sang with all hismight, his sombrero over his face to keep the glare of the sun out ofhis eyes.
He was interrupted, however, forgot to finish a verse as he hadintended, and jumped to one side as a stone bounced off his leg. Lookingup, he saw another missile curve into his patch of sky and swiftly beardown on him. He avoided it by a hair's breadth and wondered whathad happened. Then what Mr. Travennes thought was a balloon, beingunsophisticated in matters pertaining to aerial navigation, swooped downupon him and smote him on the shoulder and also bounced off.
Mr. Travennes hastily laid music aside and took up elocution as hedodged another stone and wished that the mesquite-loving crank had puton a roof. In evading the projectile he let his sombrero appear on alevel with the desert, and the hum of a bullet as it passed through hishead-gear and into the opposite wall made him wish that there had beenconstructed a cellar, also.
"Hi-le, hi-lo" intruded upon his ear, as Mr. Cassidy got rid of thesurplus of his heart's joy. Another stone the size of a man's footshaved Mr. Travennes' ear and he hugged the side of the hole nearest hisenemy.
"Hibernate, blank yu!" derisively shouted the human catapult as hereleased a chunk of sandstone the size of a quail. "Draw in yore laigsan' buck," was his God-speed to the missile.
"Hey, yu!" indignantly yowled Mr. Travennes from his defective stormcellar. "Don't yu know any better'n to heave things thataway?"
"Hi-le, hi-lo," sang Mr. Cassidy, as another stone soared aloft in thedirection of the complainant. Then he stood erect and awaited resultswith a Colt's in his hand leveled at the rim of the hole. A hat wavedand an excited voice bit off chunks of expostulation and asked for anarmistice. Then two hands shot up and Mr. Travennes, sore and disgustedand desperate, popped his head up an blinked at Mr. Cassidy's gun.
"Yu was fillin' th' hole up," remarked Mr. Travennes in an accusingtone, hiding the real reason for his evacuation. "In a little while I'da been th' top of a pile instead of th' bottom of a hole," he announced,crawling out and rubbing his head.
Mr. Cassidy grinned and ordered his prisoner to one side while besecured the weapon which lay in the hole. Having obtained it as quicklyas possible be slid it in his open shirt and clambered out again.
"Yu remind me of a feller I used to know," remarked Mr. Travennes, as heled the way to the hut, trying not to limp. "Only he throwed dynamite.That was th' way he cleared off chaparral--blowed it off. He got so usedto heaving away everything he lit that he spoiled three pipes in twodays."
Mr. Cassidy laughed at the fiction and then became grave as he picturedMr. Connors sitting on the rock and facing down a line of men, anyone of whom was capable of his destruction if given the interval of asecond.
When they arrived at the hut Mr. Cassidy observed that the prisoners hadmoved considerably. There was a cleanly swepttrail four yards long wherethey had dragged themselves, and they sat in the end nearer the guns.Mr. Cassidy smiled and fired close to the Mexican's ear, who lost in onefrightened jump a little of what he had so laboriously gained.
"Yu'll wear out yore pants," said Mr. Cassidy, and then added grimly,"an' my patience."
Mr. Travennes smiled and thought of the man who so ably seconded Mr.Cassidy's efforts and who was probably shot by this time. The outfit ofthe Bar-20 was so well known throughout the land that he was aware thename of the other was Red Connors. An unreasoning streak of sarcasmswept over him and he could not resist the opportunity to get in a stabat his captor.
"Mebby yore pard has wore out somebody's patience, too," said Mr.Travennes, suggestively and with venom.
His captor wheeled toward him, his face white with passion, and Mr.Travennes shrank back and regretted the words.
"I ain't shootin' dogs this here trip," said Mr. Cassidy, trembling withscorn and anger, "so yu can pull yourself together. I'll give yu anotherchance, but yu wants to hope almighty hard that Red is O. K. If heain't, I'll blow yu so many ways at once that if yu sprouts yu'll makea good acre of weeds. If he is all right yu'd better vamoose this range,for there won't be no hole for yu to crawl into next time. What friendsyu have left will have to tote yu off an' plant yu," he finished withemphasis. He drove the horses outside, and, after severing the bonds onhis prisoners, lined them up.
"Yu," he began, indicating all but Mr. Travennes, "yu amble right smarttoward Canada," pointing to the north. "Keep a-going till yu gets farenough away so a Colt won't find yu." Here he grinned with delight as hesaw his Sharp's rifle in its sheath on his saddle and, drawing itforth, he put away his Colts and glanced at the trio, who were alreadyindustriously plodding northward. "Hey!" he shouted, and when theysullenly turned to see what new idea he had found he gleefully waved hisrifle at them and warned them further: "This is a Sharp's an' it's goodfor half a mile, so don't stop none too soon."
Having sent them directly away from their friends so they could not havehim "potted" on the way back, he mounted his broncho and indicated toMr. Travennes that he, too, was to ride, watching that that person didnot make use of the Winchester which Mr. Connors was foolish enough tocarry around on his saddle. Winchesters were Mr. Cassidy's pet aversionand Mr. Connors' most prized possession, this difference of opinionhaving upon many occasions caused hasty words between them. Mr. Connors,being better with his Winchester than Mr. Cassidy was with his Sharp's,had frequently proved that his choice was the wiser, but Mr. Cassidywas loyal to the Sharp's and refused to be convinced. Now, however,the Winchester became pregnant with possibilities and, therefore, Mr.Travennes rode a few yards to the left and in advance, where the riflewas in plain sight, hanging as it did on the right of Mr. Connors'saddle, which Mr. Travennes graced so well.
The journey back to town was made in good time and when they came tothe buildings Mr. Cassidy dismounted and bade his companion do likewise,there being too many corners that a fleeing rider could take advantageof. Mr. Travennes felt of his bumps and did so, wishing hard thingsabout Mr. Cassidy.
