Marble Range

by Robert J. Horton

  “His name may be Bannister,” said Wills with a scowl, “but he is called The Maverick. I suppose you’ve heard of that outlaw.”

  “Yes, I have,” said Campbell smoothly, “and I’m suspicious of this fellow as being that same party.”

  “Well, he is,” said Wills sharply. “I’ve been after him a long time. I want him bad an’ I’m much obliged to you for getting him. I’ll be taking him down to Big Falls this afternoon.”

  “Well, now”—Campbell frowned—“you can’t very well do that. I have charges against him up here, as Cromer knows. When we’re through with him, you can have him, I suppose.”

  “Oh, I waive my charges,” said Cromer quickly. “Wills can have him. And I know Link won’t bother about that shooting, so . . .”

  “How do you know?” Campbell interrupted sharply.

  “Well . . . er . . . it doesn’t stand to reason that . . . er … Link would prefer charges when he knows who this man is and what he’s wanted for,” Cromer stuttered.

  “You mean to tell me you’d interfere with my office?” Campbell demanded harshly. “After you whined and begged me to arrest him the night of the robbery?”

  “It’d be better to let Sheriff Wills have him,” said Cromer. “He’s got more serious charges against him, anyway.”

  “That’s right, Campbell,” said Wills. “You can see that, I’m sure.”

  “Well, I don’t see it,” said Campbell, scowling. “I don’t see any such thing. I’ve got charges against him an’ that’s enough for me. I’m the sheriff of this county, Wills, an’ here he stays.”

  “Can I take a look at him?” asked Wills, who was becoming angry.

  “Sure,” said Campbell. “C’mon.” He led them inside the jail proper to Bannister’s cell.

  “That’s him!” cried Wills in great excitement. “How are you, Maverick?”

  Bannister swore. But instead of looking at Wills, he glared at Cromer.

  “Do you know this man?” Campbell asked him sternly, pointing to Wills.

  “No,” Bannister growled. “But I know the white-livered, stinking rat that’s with him.”

  Cromer laughed, a mean, sneering laugh. “They’ve got you where you belong,” he said, mouthing his words. He turned to Wills. “The fool told me he might take my irrigation project away from me,” he jeered. “He thinks he can steal anything . . . even land and water. Next he’ll be wanting to steal the sky.”

  When they were again in the office, Wills spoke sternly.

  “Sheriff Campbell, I demand the custody of The Maverick. I have a prior right to him. You’ll be entitled to the rewards, of course, and I’ll see you get ’em. I want to take him back this afternoon.”

  “Maverick or no Maverick, he’s my prisoner and here he stays!” thundered Campbell, bringing his fist down on his desk with a terrific blow.

  “I’ll go to the governor!” shouted Wills.

  “Go to the governor an’ be damned!” Campbell retorted hotly. “An’ tell him, if he sends you up here for that prisoner, he’ll have to send the whole state militia with you!”

  “We’ll see,” said Wills, his face dark with anger. He shook a forefinger at Campbell. “We’ll see,” he repeated. “You’re not running this state.”

  “But I’m running this county!” cried Campbell. “An’ you or no other sheriff is coming in from the outside an’ tell me what to do.”

  Wills spluttered and fumed and swore. He glared at Campbell, started to say something, swore again, and stamped furiously out of the office, with Cromer following.

  Sheriff Campbell went in to see his prisoner and thrust a fat cigar through the bars.

  Bannister was smiling and his eyes were sparkling. “Campbell,” he said in his richest drawl, “it wouldn’t be hard to take you on for a friend.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Bannister smoked and read in the cell during the afternoon, while Sheriff Campbell had a confidential talk with his deputies and the turnkey. The word was sent out that Bannister had been arrested and would be held for the grand jury, after which he would, of course, be tried. It was whispered, too, through the enterprise of Cromer, and because of Sheriff Wills’ presence in town, that Bannister was indeed the notorious Maverick. The news created a tremendous sensation and was speedily carried to Marble by the stage drivers and travelers. Someone took the news to the Half Diamond outfit north of the Dome, and Manley rode posthaste to the house and told Florence Marble.

  The girl received the news calmly, although she turned white, and informed Manley that she had been aware of Bannister’s true identity for some time. She suggested that he go back to his cows and not bother himself in the matter.

  “But, Miss Florence,” he protested, “don’t you know what they’ll say? They’ll say you hired him as a gunman, that’s what they’ll say. You mustn’t admit that you knew it, don’t you see? Did he tell you himself?”

  “I don’t care what they say,” Florence retorted irritably, “and I’m not answering any questions. Maybe I know a thing or two that you don’t. Just keep your hands and tongue off, Manley. Those are orders.”

  Manley rode back to the outfit puzzled, nettled, and grumbling to himself.

  When she was alone, Florence dropped weakly into a chair. So it was all over. She felt like crying, screaming, or laughing. Her composure was so shaken that she couldn’t keep still. She rose, and fell to pacing the room. It was incredible that they had taken Bannister without a fight. He was not the kind to give up tamely. There must be some kind of a trick to it, she decided. Meanwhile, the best thing to do was to obtain more detailed information.

  She sent for Howard and quickly told him what had happened. “Go to Prairie City and see him,” she ordered. “Don’t do any talking to anybody, but keep your ears open. And ask Sheriff Campbell if he can’t be released on bail. Tell Bannister I want to know . . . that I’m entitled to know all about it. And, Howard, don’t you whisper a word of anything he says to you to a living soul.”

  “I guess I know enough for that,” said the boy scornfully. “They’ve framed him, that’s what they’ve done. He’ll talk to me, you see if he don’t. And it’s up to us to get him out of there. This is Cromer’s work, Florence, and don’t you forget it.”

  Florence made no comment on this, for she was of the same opinion. Howard started for town just before dusk.

  It was noted that Sheriff Wills spent the afternoon in the Prairie City office of the Marble Dome Land and Irrigation Company. This was considered significant as it had got about that Bannister had been one of the bank robbers at Marble. The town—both towns, for that matter—seethed with excitement. Then, just before the 6:00 p.m. stage started south, Wills again visited Sheriff Campbell. He had cooled down and realized that Campbell could hold Bannister if he so wished. Whether or not Wills could get Bannister away from Campbell would be a matter to be decided by the courts. He so informed Campbell, and the latter curtly informed him to go to it.

  Shortly afterward, Wills left on the southbound stage, and Cromer drove out of town on the Marble road behind his fast grays. Wills was satisfied, for he expected to get Bannister in his custody in a few weeks, and Cromer was jubilant because Bannister was jailed. The sheriff would, of course, come to see him at Marble when he learned he had left town, and he would cement a case against Bannister to keep him jailed while Wills made his legal moves.

  Such was the situation when Howard rode into town an hour and a half after nightfall, with Tommy Gale arriving a half hour later. Howard went directly to the jail after putting up his horse. Tommy went to the hotel for something to eat, and then sat in the little lobby, picking his teeth and waiting. He expected a message or a messenger. He was not to be disappointed.

  When Bannister was told by Sheriff Campbell that Howard was there, he scowled and paced the cell in deep thought. Should he tell the youth? In all probability he would need Howard. He finally decided the thing to do was to have Howard get his horse, on the presumption
that the boy was going to take it back to the ranch. He would be instructed to wait among the trees below town. It wouldn’t be necessary to tell him how he would be gotten out of jail. And Howard could be sworn to secrecy. Sheriff Campbell himself could see Tommy Gale and have him waiting near the place where Howard was to take the horse. Tommy had been faithfully described to the official, who couldn’t fail to recognize him. Bannister could introduce Tommy to Howard and tell him just as much as was absolutely necessary. This seemed the best way. Campbell could hardly get into trouble if the whole scheme was revealed later, as he had Bannister’s word to report to him and give up his gun when his work was finished. Bannister intended to keep his word, and Campbell knew it. And Campbell could fix it with the county attorney.

  He announced his decision and outlined his plan to the sheriff, and Campbell readily agreed. Howard was shown in. The boy was excited, angry, puzzled—in an almost irresponsible frame of mind. But Bannister steadied him as he talked to him slowly, distinctly, and reassuringly. “There is just one thing,” he finished. “You must not ask questions. You’ll know everything later. And you mustn’t breathe a word of this to anyone. Don’t answer questions yourself. Just mutter and scowl and keep away from people and look worried. They’ll understand and leave you alone. Now remember the time. Two in the morning. Those who see you going away with my horse, if anybody does see you, will think you’re taking it back to the ranch, which is what the liveryman will think and tell people.”

  So Howard went away, gratified because Bannister was in some manner to get out of jail, and feeling important because he was playing an important part in the coup.

  Shortly after Howard had left, Sheriff Campbell strolled over to the hotel, looking casually up and down the street and toward the livery barn. Then he entered the hotel lobby and he and Tommy recognized each other instantly. The sheriff signaled Tommy to follow him and went out the back way. Tommy joined him in the shadow of the rear wall of the building a minute or so later.

  “You’re Gale, are you not?” Campbell asked.

  “The same,” Tommy replied. “An’ I know you.”

  “All right,” Campbell grunted. “I’ve got some instructions for you. Listen hard and go quick. And you aren’t to publish this anywhere.” He told the cowpuncher what to do in short, terse sentences delivered in an undertone. A minute later Tommy was getting his horse.

  By midnight the streets and resorts of Prairie City were clearing. Stores and other places of business were closed, save for an all-night café. Small groups of roisterers broke up and dispersed. Echoing hoof beats died away on the night air as visitors from nearby ranches galloped homeward. By 1:00 every place in town was closed, except The Three Feathers. This resort never closed.

  An hour passed and the street was silent, with not even a straggler abroad. The stars and moon shone brightly and a cooling breeze was stirring. Howard and Tommy Gale had some time since taking up their station. A dim light burned in the main office of the jail, but Sheriff Campbell’s office was dark.

  At 2:00 the turnkey looked out the jail entrance. A minute later the light went out and a swift-moving shadow merged with the deeper shadow along the wall of the building. The lamp glowed again in another minute and the turnkey reposed on an old hair sofa. The jail was empty save for his presence.

  Bannister stole between darkened houses and shacks and reached the trees along the creek. He followed them to the east end of the town. A horse whinnied and a voice spoke cautiously. It was Howard with their mounts, and Bannister was soon in the saddle. At the point where the trees met the plain, they were joined by Tommy Gale. Then they put the spurs to their horses and rode at racing pace through the early hours of the morning until they reached the river at the southwest corner of the Half Diamond. They rode around the bend and then east on the south side of the river. They passed the main Dome trail leading to the river ford and entered the badlands at a point below it. The river was so low they could ford it anywhere. The only danger would be quicksand. Howard was now acting as guide. It was because he needed him for this purpose that Bannister had decided he would have to be in on the scheme. Soon they arrived near the little cabin below the leaning cottonwood, where Bannister had been left a prisoner and where Howard had found him next day.

  Bannister himself reconnoitered and found the cabin empty. They dismounted. Bannister now introduced Tommy Gale to Howard as a friend of his from the south range who had come up for the celebration. “Don’t mention the fact that he’s here to anybody,” he admonished the boy. “He’s all right and he’s helping us.”

  “That’s enough for me,” said Howard, offering his hand to Tommy. “But I’ve got to get back to the ranch and tell Florence something. Bet she’s been up all night, waiting for me. She sent me up to find out all about it and, well . . . what’ll I say?”

  “Tell her the truth,” said Bannister. “Tell her I’m out of jail and you don’t know how I got out, which you don’t. And tell her to keep still about it. If it gets out that I’m not in jail, all my plans will be spoiled. Understand?”

  “Yes, I guess so,” said Howard doubtfully. “But she’s going to ask a powerful lot of questions.”

  “Tell her I said everything is all right,” said Bannister impatiently. “And then slope back here with something to eat for the rest of the day. You’ve got to use your head, Howard. And I’m going to need you for a guide, most likely. You better start, for it’s getting pretty light.”

  After Howard had left, Bannister and Tommy decided it would be best to stay in the timber lest somebody should come to the cabin. The rustlers had used it before and they might take a notion to use it again. Never for an instant did Bannister doubt but that the men who had attacked him and shot him that night in the breaks were rustlers.

  They found a small, grassy knoll that afforded them a view of the meadow about the cabin by peering through the foliage, and there took up their station. Bannister told Tommy what had taken place in town and how he had come to give himself up and then get out of jail. And Tommy had praise for both the sheriff and old Jeb. For Jeb had taken care of him and no one had seen him.

  In a few hours Howard was back with food and milk and they made a meal. All day they stayed on the knoll and until after nightfall. Then they made their way cautiously to the edge of the plain near the leaning cottonwood. For the first time, Bannister was assailed by misgivings. It was not at all certain, or even probable, that a rustling attempt would be made this night, or that a rider would appear to lead them to the rendezvous of the cattle thieves. It might be days before rustling activities were resumed. He had banked on the rustlers working fast when they heard he was jailed, because Hayes, if he were the ringleader, would be wanting to get out of the country after the bank robbery as soon as he could. Bannister was certain he had had a hand in that. Well, they could watch for a while and then they could begin a systematic search of the breaks with Howard as guide. There would hardly be any waylaying three of them the way he had been waylaid alone. But before midnight their vigil was rewarded—and from a quarter that they had least expected.

  Hoof beats of many horses came from across the river. They drew back well within the shadow of the trees. Next came the splashing of the horses in the water as the riders crossed the river. When they came plunging out of the shadows on the main trail, Bannister gave a low whistle of surprise. He had seen the face of the leader in the clear light of the moon. It was John Macy. The cattlemen were riding north!

  There must have been more than two score of riders in the cavalcade that swung off into the northeast. The pounding hoof beats became fainter and fainter—died away.

  “It’s the association outfit,” said Bannister in excitement. “They’re making for the project. Now something is up. They’re circling around the cow camp north of the Dome to ride into the project from the east. I reckon we better drift up there and see what’s doing.”

  The two others, realizing the seriousness of this new move, were
eager to go. So they took the trail of the stockmen and rode out under the star-filled sky. Because of the brightness of stars and moon it was not hard to follow the trail left by the riders ahead. It led them far east of the cattle range and then swung in the opposite direction for the project.

  They rode faster, Bannister trying to think of any possible way he could prevent Macy and the men with him from doing violence. Were they going after Cromer? Did they intend to do him bodily harm? They came in sight of the first lone shacks of the project. There were no lights to be seen. Then, some distance ahead, there were shadows—horses and riders standing motionlessly. The trio stopped. Bannister was in a frenzy as to what to do. It was an angle to the business he hadn’t had time to consider. He put the problem up to Tommy, but Tommy was likewise unable to solve it. Then suddenly there were flashes ahead, the riders were moving, the reports of guns broke upon the still night air.

  Instinctively Bannister drove in his spurs and dashed ahead. His two companions followed. Before they had gone two rods there was a burst of fire—another and another. Then came a tremendous detonation and the earth rocked with the terrific force of the explosion. Dirt and small pieces of rock and cement rained down even that far out, and their horses shied and plunged and reared.

  The swift realization of what had happened caused Bannister to rise in his stirrups, holding his horse with an iron hand—speechless. He finally found his tongue.

  “They’ve blown up the dam!” he shouted hoarsely.

  Then they streaked after the fleeing cattlemen, who were riding madly southward.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  At the outset of the dash into the south it became apparent that, while the cattlemen did not wish to be seen on the way up to town, they had no intention of taking a roundabout course on the way back, but would depend upon speed to escape identification. They rode furiously and recklessly, and they were mounted on the best horses the various ranches they represented could boast.