by Max Brand
The intervening men jumped back, but the deep voice of Silent rang out like a pistol shot: “Don’t move for your six-guns, or you’ll be playin’ agin me!”
Haines transferred his glare to Silent, but his hand dropped from his gun. Daniels laughed.
“I ain’t no mile post with a hand pointin’ to trouble,” he said gently. “All I say is that the girl needs excitement. Life’s so damned dull for her that she ain’t got no interest in livin’.”
“If you’re fool enough to try,” said Silent, “go ahead. What are you plannin’ to do?”
“You’ll learn by watchin’,” grinned Buck, taking the reins of his horse. “I’m goin’ to ask the lady soft an’ polite to step up to her cabin an’ pile into some ham an’ eggs. If she don’t want to I’ll rough her up a little, an’ she’ll love me for it afterwards!”
“The way she loves a snake!” growled Kilduff.
“By God, Silent,” said Haines, his face white with emotion, “if Buck puts a hand on her I’ll—”
“Act like a man an’ not like a damn fool boy,” said Silent, dropping a heavy hand on the shoulder of his lieutenant. “He won’t hurt her none, Lee. I’ll answer for that. Come on, Buck. Speakin’ personal, I wish that calico was in hell.”
Leading his horse, Buck followed Silent towards the girl. She did not move when they approached. Her eyes still held far down the valley. The steps of the big outlaw were shorter and shorter as they drew close to the girl. Finally he stopped and turned to Buck with a gesture of resignation.
“Look at her! This is what she’s been doin’ ever since yesterday. Buck, it’s up to you to make good. There she is!”
“All right,” said Buck, “it’s about time for you amachoors to exit an’ leave the stage clear for the big star. Now jest step back an’ take notes on the way I do it. In fifteen minutes by the clock she’ll be eatin’ out of my hand.”
Silent, expectant but baffled, retired a little. Buck removed his hat and bowed as if he were in a drawing-room.
“Ma’am,” he said, “I got the honour of askin’ you to side-step up to the shanty with me an’ tackle a plate of ham an’ eggs. Are you on?”
To this Chesterfieldian outpouring of the heart, she responded with a slow glance which started at Buck’s feet, travelled up to his face, and then returned to the purple distance down the canyon. In spite of himself the tell-tale crimson flooded Buck’s face. Far away he caught the muffled laughter of the outlaws. He replaced his hat.
“Don’t make no mistake,” he went on, his gesture including the bandits in the background, and Silent particularly, “I ain’t the same sort as these other fellers. I c’n understand the way you feel after bein’ herded around with a lot of tin horns like these. I’m suggestin’ that you take a long look at me an’ notice the difference between an imitation an’ a real man.”
She did look at him. She even smiled faintly, and the smile made Buck’s face once more grow very hot. His voice went hard.
“For the last time, I’m askin’ if you’ll go up to the cabin.”
There was both wonder and contempt in her smile.
In an instant he was in his saddle. He swung far to one side and caught her in his arms. Vaguely he heard the yell of excitement from the outlaws. All he was vividly conscious of was the white horror of her face. She fought like a wildcat. She did not cry out. She struck him full in the face with the strength of a man, almost. He prisoned her with a stronger grip, and in so doing nearly toppled from the saddle, for his horse reared up, snorting.
A gun cracked twice and two bullets hummed close to his head. From the corner of his eye he was aware of Silent and Rhinehart flinging themselves upon Lee Haines, who struggled furiously to fire again. He drove his spurs deep and the cattle pony started a bucking course for the shanty.
“Dan!” he muttered at her ear.
The yells of the men drowned his voice. She managed to jerk her right arm free and struck him in the face. He shook her furiously.
“For Whistling Dan!” he said more loudly. “He’s dying!”
She went rigid in his arms.
“Don’t speak!” he panted. “Don’t let them know!”
The outlaws were running after them, laughing and waving their hats.
“Dan!”
“Faint, you fool!”
Her eyes widened with instant comprehension. Every muscle of her body relaxed; her head fell back; she was a lifeless burden in his arms. Buck dismounted from the saddle before the shanty. He was white, shaking, but triumphant. Rhinehart and Purvis and Jordan ran up to him. Silent and Kilduff were still struggling with Haines in the distance.
Rhinehart dropped his head to listen at her breast for the heartbeat.
“She’s dead!” cried Jordan.
“You’re a fool,” said Buck calmly. “She’s jest fainted, an’ when she comes to, she’ll begin tellin’ me what a wonderful man I am.”
“She ain’t dead,” said Rhinehart, raising his head from her heart, “but Haines’ll kill you for this, Buck!”
“Kate!” cried an agonized voice from the shanty, and old white-haired Joe Cumberland ran towards them.
“Jest a little accident happened to your daughter,” explained Buck. “Never mind. I c’n carry her in all right. You fellers stay back. A crowd ain’t no help. Ain’t no cause to worry, Mr. Cumberland. She ain’t hurt!”
He hastened on into the shanty and laid her on the bunk within. Her father hurried about to bathe her face and throat. Buck pushed the other three men out of the room.
“She ain’t hurt,” he said calmly, “she’s jest a little fussed up. Remember I said in fifteen minutes I’d have her eatin’ out of my hand. I’ve still got ten minutes of that time. When the ten minutes is up you all come an’ take a look through that window. If you don’t see the girl eatin’ at that table, I’ll chaw up my hat.”
He crowded them through the door and shut it behind them. A cry of joy came from old Joe Cumberland and Buck turned to see Kate sitting up on the bunk.
CHAPTER XXXI
“LAUGH, DAMN IT!”
She brushed her father’s anxious arms aside and ran to Buck.
“Shut up!” said Buck. “Talk soft. Better still, don’t say nothin’!”
“Kate,” stammered her father, “what has happened?”
“Listen an’ you’ll learn,” said Buck. “But get busy first. I got to get you out of here tonight. You’ll need strength for the work ahead of you. You got to eat. Get me some eggs. Eggs and ham. Got ’em? Good. You, there!” (This to Joe.) “Rake down them ashes. On the jump, Kate. Some wood here. I got only ten minutes!”
In three minutes the fire was going, and the eggs in the pan, while Joe set out some tin dishes on the rickety table, under orders from Buck, making as much noise as possible. While they worked Buck talked. By the time Kate’s plate was ready his tale was done. He expected hysterics. She was merely white and steady-eyed.
“You’re ready?” he concluded.
“Yes.”
“Then begin by doin’ what I say an’ ask no questions. Silent an’ his crew’ll be lookin’ through the window over there pretty soon. You got to be eatin’ an’ appearin’ to enjoy talkin’ to me. Get that an’ don’t forget it. Mix in plenty of smiles. Cumberland, you get back into the shadow an’ stay there. Don’t never come out into the light. Your face tells more’n a whole book, an’ believe me, Jim Silent is a quick reader.”
Joe retreated to a corner of the room into which the light of the lamp did not penetrate.
“Sit down at that table!” ordered Buck, and he placed a generous portion of fried eggs and ham before her.
“I can’t eat. Is Dan—”
“I hear ’em at the window!”
He slipped onto a box on the opposite side of the table and leaned towards her, supporting his chin in his hands. Kate began to eat hurriedly.
“No! no!” advised Buck. “You eat as if you was scared. You want to be slow an’ deliberate.
Watch out! They’ve moved the board that covers the window!”
For he saw a group of astonished faces outside.
“Smile at me!”
Her response made even Buck forget her pallor. Outside the house there was a faint buzz of whispers.
“Keep it up!”
“I’ll do my best,” she said faintly.
Buck leaned back and burst into uproarious laughter.
“That’s a good one!” he cried, slamming the broad palm of his hand against the table so that the tin dishes jumped. “I never heard the beat of it!” And in a whispered tone aside: “Laugh, damn it!”
Her laughter rang true enough, but it quavered perilously close to a sob towards the close.
“I always granted Jim Silent a lot of sense,” he said, “an’ has he really left you alone all this time? Damn near died of homesickness, didn’t you?”
She laughed again, more confidently this time. The board was suddenly replaced at the window.
“Now I got to go out to them,” he said. “After what Silent has seen he’ll trust me with you. He’ll let me come back.”
She dropped her soft hands over his clenched fist.
“It will be soon? Minutes are greater than hours.”
“I ain’t forgot. Tonight’s the time.”
Before he reached the door she ran to him. Two arms went round his neck, two warm lips fluttered against his.
“God bless you!” she whispered.
Buck ran for the door. Outside he stood bareheaded, breathing deeply. His face was hot with shame and delight, and he had to walk up and down for a moment before he could trust himself to enter the ranch house. When he finally did so he received a greeting which made him think himself a curiosity rather than a man. Even Jim Silent regarded him with awe.
“Buck,” said Jordan, “you don’t never need to work no more. All you got to do is to walk into a town, pick out the swellest heiress, an’ marry her.”
“The trouble with girls in town,” said Buck, “is that there ain’t no room for a man to operate. You jest nacherally can’t ride a hoss into a parlour.”
Lee Haines drew Buck a little to one side.
“What message did you bring to her, Buck?” he said.
“What d’you mean?”
“Look here, friend, these other boys are too thick-headed to understand Kate Cumberland, but I know her kind.”
“You’re a little peeved, ain’t you Lee?” grinned Buck. “It ain’t my fault that she don’t like you.”
Haines ground his teeth.
“It was a very clever little act that you did with her, but it couldn’t quite deceive me. She was too pale when she laughed.”
“A jealous feller sees two things for every one that really happens, Lee.”
“Who was the message from?”
“Did she ever smile at you like she done at me?”
“Was it from Dan Barry that you brought word?”
“Did she ever let her eyes go big an’ soft when she looked at you?”
“Damn you.”
“Did she ever lean close to you, so’s you got the scent of her hair, Lee?”
“I’ll kill you for this, Daniels!”
“When I left she kissed me good-bye, Lee.”
In spite of his bravado, Buck was deeply anxious. He watched Haines narrowly. Only two men in the mountain-desert would have had a chance against this man in a fight, and Buck knew perfectly well that he was not one of the two.
“Watch yourself, Daniels,” said Haines. “I know you’re lying and I’m going to keep an eye on you.”
“Thanks,” grinned Buck. “I like to have a friend watchin’ out for me.”
Haines turned on his heel and went back to the card table, where Buck immediately joined the circle.
“Wait a minute, Lee,” said Silent. “Ain’t it your turn to stand guard on the Cumberlands tonight?”
“Right—O,” answered Haines cheerfully, and rose from the table.
“Hold on,” said Buck. “Are you goin’ to spoil all the work I done today with that girl?”
“What’s the matter?” asked Silent.
“Everything’s the matter! Are you goin’ to put a man she hates out there watchin’ her.”
“Damn you, Daniels,” said Haines fiercely, “you’re rolling up a long account, but it only takes a bullet to collect that sort of a bill!”
“If it hadn’t been for Haines, would the girl’s father be here?” asked Buck. “Besides, she don’t like blonds.”
“What type does she like?” asked Silent, enjoying the quarrel between his lieutenant and the recruit.
“Likes ’em with dark hair an’ eyes,” said Buck calmly. “Look at me, for instance!”
Even Haines smiled, though his lips were white with anger.
“D’you want to stand guard over her yourself?” said the chief.
“Sure,” grinned Buck, “maybe she’d come out an’ pass the time o’ night with me.”
“Go ahead and take the job,” nodded Silent. “I got an idea maybe she will.”
“Silent,” warned Haines, “hasn’t it occurred to you that there’s something damned queer about the ease with which Buck slid into the favour of the girl?”
“Well?”
“All his talk about manhandling her is bunk. He had some message for her. I saw him speak to her when she was struggling in his arms. Then she conveniently fainted.”
Silent turned on Buck.
“Is that straight?”
“It is,” said Daniels easily.
The outlaws started and their expectant grins died out.
“By God, Buck!” roared Silent, “if you’re double crossin’ me—but I ain’t goin’ to be hasty now. What happened? Tell it yourself! What did you say to her?”
“While she was fightin’ with me,” said Buck, “she hollered: ‘Let me go!’ I says: ‘I’ll see you in hell first!’ Then she fainted.”
The roar of laughter drowned Haines’s further protest.
“You win, Buck,” said Silent. “Take the job.”
As Buck started for the door Haines called to him:
“Hold on, Buck, if you’re aboveboard you won’t mind giving your word to see that no one comes up the valley and that you’ll be here in the morning?”
The words set a swirling blackness before Buck’s eyes. He turned slowly.
“That’s reasonable,” said Silent. “Speak up, Daniels.”
“All right,” said Buck, his voice very low. “I’ll be here in the morning, and I’ll see that no one comes up the valley.”
There was the slightest possible emphasis on the word “up.”
On a rock directly in front of the shanty Buck took up his watch. The little house behind him was black. Presently he heard the soft call of Kate: “Is it time?”
His eyes wandered to the ranch house. He could catch the drone of many voices. He made no reply.
“Is it time?” she repeated.
Still he would not venture a reply, however guarded. She called a third time, and when he made no response he heard her voice break to a moan of hopelessness. And yet he waited, waited, until the light in the ranch house went out, and there was not a sound.
“Kate!” he said, gauging his voice carefully so that it could not possibly travel to the ranch house, which all the while he carefully scanned.
For answer the front door of the shanty squeaked.
“Back!” he called. “Go back!”
The door squeaked again.
“They’re asleep in the ranch house,” she said. “Aren’t we safe?”
“S—sh!” he warned. “Talk low! They aren’t all asleep. There’s one in the ranch house who’ll never take his eyes off me till morning.”
“What can we do?”
“Go out the back way. You won’t be seen if you’re careful. Haines has his eyes on me, not you. Go for the stable. Saddle your horses. Then lead them out and take the path on the other side of the house. Don’
t mount them until you’re far below the house. Go slow all the way. Sounds travel far up this canyon.”
“Aren’t you coming with us?”
“No.”
“But when they find us gone?”
“Think of Dan—not me!”
“God be merciful to you!”
In a moment the back door of the shanty creaked. They must be opening it by inches. When it was wide they would run for the stable. He wished now that he had warned Kate to walk, for a slow moving object catches the eye more seldom than one which travels fast. If Lee Haines was watching at that moment his attention must be held to Buck for one all important minute. He stood up, rolled a cigarette swiftly, and lighted it. The spurt and flare of the match would hold even the most suspicious eye for a short time, and in those few seconds Kate and her father might pass out of view behind the stable.
He sat down again. A muffled sneeze came from the ranch house and Buck felt his blood run cold. The forgotten cigarette between his fingers burned to a dull red and then went out. In the stable a horse stamped. He leaned back, locked his hands idly behind his head, and commenced to whistle. Now there was a snort, as of a horse when it leaves the shelter of a barn and takes the first breath of open air.
All these sounds were faint, but to Buck, straining his ears in an agony of suspense, each one came like the blast of a trumpet. Next there was a click like that of iron striking against rock. Evidently they were leading the horses around on the far side of the house. With a trembling hand he relighted his cigarette and waited, waited, waited. Then he saw them pass below the house! They were dimly stalking figures in the night, but to Buck it seemed as though they walked in the blaze of ten thousand searchlights. He held his breath in expectancy of that mocking laugh from the house—that sharp command to halt—that crack of the revolver.
Yet nothing happened. Now he caught the click of the horses’ iron shoes against the rocks farther and farther down the valley. Still no sound from the ranch house. They were safe!
It was then that the great temptation seized on Buck.
It would be simple enough for him to break away. He could walk to the stable, saddle his horse, and tear past the ranch house as fast as his pony could gallop. By the time the outlaws were ready for the pursuit, he would be a mile or more away, and in the hills such a handicap was enough. One thing held him. It was frail and subtle like the invisible net of the enchanter—that word he had passed to Jim Silent, to see that nothing came up the valley and to appear in the ranch house at sunrise.
