by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER XII
A NEW DEAL ALL AROUND
On the edge of the bank, thirty feet above them, a man squatted on hisheels, his forearms resting easily on his knees. In each hand was along-barreled Colt, held in a manner oppressively businesslike. One ofthe guns was leveled at the stomach of the man who guarded Bill, andwho still held the rope; the other covered the man who had baited thesheriff. Shields took care of the remaining two. One of the newcomer'seyes was half closed, squinting to keep out the smoke which curled upfrom the cigarette which protruded jauntily from a corner of his mouth.If anything was needed to strengthen the air of pertness of the manabove it was supplied by his sombrero, which sat rakishly over oneear. A quizzical grin flickered across his face and the cigarette bobbedrecklessly when he laughed.
"Was you counting?" he asked of Tex in anxious inquiry. "And for God'ssake, who stepped on your face?"
Tex made no reply, for his astonishment at the interruption had given wayto the iron hand of fear which gripped him almost to suffocation. Inthe space of one breath he had been hurled from the mastery to defeat;from a good fighting chance, with all the odds on his side, to whathe believed to be certain death, for to move was to die. Had it beenanyone but The Orphan who had turned the scale he would have hazarded ashot and trusted to luck, for his gun was in his hand; but The Orphan'sgunplay was as swift as light and never missed at that distance, andThe Orphan's reputation was a host in itself. He had threatened thesheriff with death, he had used Bill worse than he would have used adog, and now his cup of bitterness was full to overflowing. Above him apair of cruel gray eyes looked over a sight into his very soul and amalevolent grin played about the thin, straight lips of the man whohad killed Jimmy, who had led his five friends to an awful death, andwho had instilled terror night after night into the hearts of seven goodmen. His mind leaped back to a day ten years before, and what he sawcaused his face to blanch. Ten years of immunity, but at last he was topay for his crime. Before him stood the son of the man he had beenforemost in hanging, before him stood the man he had cruelly wronged.His nerve left him and he stood a broken, trembling coward, a living lieto the occupation he had made his own, an insult to his dress and hiscompanions. Had he by some miracle been given the drop he could nothave pulled the trigger. He now had no hope for mercy where he haddenied it. He had played a good hand, but he had made no allowance forthe joker, and no blame to him.
No sooner had The Orphan spoken and the sheriff discovered that he hadthings safely in his hands, than Shields had leaped to the ground andquickly disarmed his opponents, tossing the captured weapons to the topof the bank near the outlaw. Then he folded his arms and waited, laughingsilently all the while.
As soon as Shields had disposed of the last gun, The Orphan gave his wholeattention to the man who was guarding Bill, and that person changed thecourse of his hand just in time.
"No, I wouldn't try to use that gun, neither, if I was you," The Orphansaid, still smiling. "You can just toss it up on the bank over yourhead--that's right. Now drop that rope--I'm surprised that you didn'tdo it before. When you get Bill all untangled from those fixings comeright around here, where I can see how nice you all look in a bunch.It'll take you one whole minute to get out of sight around that turn, so Iwouldn't try any running."
The Orphan was ignorant of the condition of Bill's face, since he had onlyseen the driver's back as he had crawled to the edge of the bank, and nowthe bend in the opposite wall just hid Bill from his sight. So he gaveno great attention to the driver, but turned to the sheriff and laughed.
"I knew that you would pull through, Sheriff," he said, "but I couldn'thelp having a surprise party; I'm a whole lot fond of surprise parties,you know. And it's shore been a howling success, all right."
"You have a very pleasant way of making yourself useful," Shieldsreplied. "From the holes you've pulled me out of within the past sixweeks you must have a poor impression of me. But seeing that you havereason to laugh at me, I accept your apology and bid you welcome. It'sall yours." Then he glanced quickly up the trail and his face went redwith anger. "Hell!" he cried in amazement.
The Orphan looked in the direction indicated and he leaped to his feetin sudden anger at what he saw. A man, followed by a cowboy, staggeredand stumbled drunkenly along the trail toward them, his face a mass ofcuts and bruises and blood. His hair was matted with blood and dirt, and ared ring showed around his neck. His hands opened and shut convulsivelyand he made straight as he could for Tex, who shrank back involuntarily.
"My God! It's Bill!" cried The Orphan, hardly able to believe his eyes.
"You're the cur _I_ want!" Bill muttered brokenly to Tex, straightening upand becoming rapidly steadier under the stimulus of his rage. "You're the---- _I_ want, d----n you!" he repeated as he slowly advanced. "It's myturn now, you cur! Lynch me, would you? Lynch me, eh? Tried to hit me whenI was tied, eh? Sicked your dogs on me, eh? Keep still, d----n you--youcan't get away!" he cried as Tex moved backward.
"Stand to it like a man, or I'll blow your head off!" cried The Orphanfrom his perch. "Go on, Bill!"
"You said you wanted me, didn't you? Do you still want me?" he asked, nothearing The Orphan's words. "Are you still curious?" he asked, backingTex into a corner.
"Hash him up, Bill!" cried the man above, and then, "Hey, wait a minute--Iwant to see this," he added as he slid down the bank. "Go ahead with theslaughter--push his head off!"
Bill's one hundred and eighty pounds of muscle and rage suddenly hurleditself forward behind a huge fist and Tex hit the bank and careened intothe dust of the trail, unconscious before he had moved.
"I told you you wasn't man enough to play a lone hand!" yelled the driveras he leaped after his victim. But he was stopped by the sheriff, whosprang forward and deflected him from his course.
"That's enough--no killing!" Shields cried, regaining his balance andswiftly interposing himself between the driver and Tex.
Bill didn't hear him, for he had just caught sight of the man who had toldhim to warble, and he lost no time in getting to him. A few quick blowsand the enraged driver left his second victim face down in the dirt andpassed on to the man who had held the rope.
"Hurrah for Bill!" yelled The Orphan, hopping first on one foot andthen on the other in his joy. "Set 'em up in the other alley! I didn'tknow you had it in you, Bill! Good boy!" he shouted as Bill clinched withthe third cowboy. "Oh, that was a beauty! Right on the nose--oh, whata whopper to get on the jaw! Whoop her up! Fine, fine!" he laughed asBill dropped his man. "'And subsequent proceedings interested _him_no more!' Next!" he cried as Bill wheeled on the last of the group. "Eathim up, Bill!--that's the way! Just above the belt for his--Good! Alldown!" he yelled madly as Bill, drawing his arm back from the stomach ofthe falling puncher, sent a swift uppercut hissing to the jaw. "Youlifted him five feet, Bill," The Orphan exulted as Bill wheeled for moreworlds to conquer.
"Where's the rest of the gang?" savagely yelled the driver, looking twiceat The Orphan before he was sure of his identity. "Where's the rest of'em?" he shouted again, running around the bend in hot search. "Comeout and fight, you cowards!" they heard him cry, and straightway theoutlaw and the guardian of the law clung to each other for support asthey cried with joy.
As Bill hurried back to the field of carnage one of his victims wasmechanically striving to gain his hands and knees, to go down in aquivering heap by a blow from the insane victor. As Bill drew backhis foot to finish his work, Shields broke from his companion and leapedforward just in time to hurl Bill back several steps. "D----n you!"he cried, standing over the prostrate figure, "If you hit another manwhile he's down I'll trim you right! Cool down and get some sense beforeI punch it into you!"
The Orphan, leaning limply against the bank of the defile, was makingfoolish motions with his hands, which still held the Colts, and wasbabbling idiotically, tears of laughter streaming down his face anddripping from his chin. His eyes were closed and he was bent over, rockingto and fro against the wall.
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bsp; "Oh, Lord!" he sobbed senselessly. "Oh, Lord, oh, Lord! Let me die inpeace! Take him away, take him away! Let me die in peace!"
"I'm a fine sight to hit Sagetown, ain't I?" yelled Bill, keeping keenwatch on the four prostrate punchers. "They'll think I was licked!They'll point to my face and head and swear that some papoose kickedthe stuffing outen me! That's what they'll do! But I'll show them, allright! I'll just take my game with me and prove that I am the best man,that's what I'll do! I'll pile 'em in the coach and lug 'em with me!"grabbing, as he finished, one of the men by the foot and dragging himtoward the stage. It took The Orphan and Shields several strenuousminutes to dissuade him from his purpose. Shields placed his fingers onthe bones of Bill's hand in a peculiar grip, and the driver loosenedhis hold without loss of time.
"You go back to town and get fixed up," ordered the sheriff. "I'll takeyour team out of this and turn them around, and then come back for you.Charley can make the trip if you can't. I would do it myself, only I'vegot to tell Sneed that he's shy four more men."
"I'll turn 'em around myself--I ain't hurt," asserted Bill with decision."And when I get patched up I'll make the trip, Pop Westley or no PopWestley. And I'll lick the whole blamed town, too, if they get freshabout my face! I'm a fighter from Fightersville, I am! I'm a man-eatingbad-man, I am! I can lick anything that ever walked on hind legs, I can!"and he glared as if anxious to prove his words.
After the cowboys regained consciousness and got so they could stand, thesheriff lined them up with their backs to the wall and gave them the gunswhich The Orphan had obtained for him. The outlaw held them covered whilethe sheriff told them what they were, and he wound up his lecture withinstructions and a warning.
"Get out of this country and don't never come back!" he told them. "Idon't care where you go, so long as you go right now. If you even showyour faces in these parts again I'll shoot first and talk after."
"Same here!" endorsed The Orphan, frowning down his desire to laugh atthe wrecks in front of him.
"I'll kill you next time!" shouted Bill, prancing uneasily.
"The cayuses are yours," continued the sheriff. "I'll settle with Sneed ifhe has the gall to ask about them. Now git!"
Tex stared first at the sheriff and then at The Orphan and Bill as ifdoubting his ears. He was ten years nearer the grave than he had beenbefore The Orphan had interrupted his counting. In less than half an hourhe had gone through hell, and now he suddenly burst into tears from thereaction and staggered to his horse, which he finally managed to mount, anervous wreck. "Oh, God!" he moaned, "Oh, God!"
The others stared at him in amazement until he had turned the bend, andthen his companions slowly followed him and were lost to sight.
"D----n near dead from fright!" ejaculated the sheriff. "I never sawanybody go to pieces so bad!"
"He shore lost his nerve all right, all right," responded The Orphan.Then he turned to where Bill stood looking after them: "Bill, you're allright--you can fight like h--l!"
Bill slowly turned and grinned through the blood: "Oh, that wasn'tnothing--you should oughter see me when I get real mad!"
. . . . .
Two men rode side by side after a lurching coach on their way toward theLimping Water, both buried in thought at what the driver had told them.As they emerged from the defile and left the Backbone behind, the elderlooked keenly, almost affectionately, at his companion and placed a kindlyhand on the shoulder of the man who had turned the balance, breaking thelong silence.
"Son, why don't you get a job punching cows, or something, and quit yourd----d foolishness?" he bluntly asked.
The younger man thought for a space, and a woman's words directed hisreply:
"I've thought of that, and I'd like to do it," he said earnestly. "But,pshaw, who will give me a try in this country?" he asked bitterly. Thenhe added softly: "And I won't leave these parts, not now."
"You won't have to leave the country," replied the sheriff. "Why not tryBlake, of the Star C?" he asked. "Blake is a shore square man, and he's agood friend of mine, too."
"Yes, I reckon he is square," replied The Orphan. "But he won't take nostock in me, not a bit."
"Tell him that you're a friend of mine, and that I sent you to punch forhim, and see," responded Shields, examining his cinch.
"Do you mean that, Sheriff?" the other cried in surprise.
"Hell, yes!" answered Shields gruffly. "I'll give you a note to him, andif you watch your business you'll be his right-hand man in a month. Iain't making any mistake."
"By God, I'll do it!" cried the outlaw. "You're all right, Sheriff!"
"Well, I don't know about that," replied Shields, grinning broadly. "MebbyI just can't see the use of us shooting each other up, and that is what itwill come to if things go on as they are, you know. I'd a blamed sightrather have you behaving yourself with Blake than bothering me with yourfool nonsense and raising the devil all the time. Why, it's got so thatevery place I go I sort of looks for flower pots!"
The Orphan laughed: "I shore had a fine time that night!"
When half way to the Limping Water the sheriff said good-by to Bill andwheeled, facing in the direction of the Cross Bar-8.
"Orphan, you wait for me at the ford," he said. "I'm going up to break thenews to Sneed, and I'll get paper and pencil while I'm there, and write anote to Blake. I'll get back as quick as I can--so long."
"So long, and good luck," replied The Orphan, heartily shaking hands withhis new friend.
Shields loped away and arrived at the ranch as Sneed was carrying waterto the cook shack.
"Hullo, Sneed! Playing cook?" he said, pulling in to a stop.
"I'll play _on_ the cook if I ever get my hands on him," replied Sneed,setting the pail down. "Well, what's new? Seen Tex and the other three?I'll play on _them_, too, when they gets home! Off playing hookey fromwork when we all of us aches from double shifts--oh, just wait till I sees'em sneaking in to bed! Just wait!"
"You ought to give 'em all a good thrashing, they need it," replied thesheriff, and then he asked: "Got any paper, and a pencil?" He wanted hisneeds supplied before he broke the news, for then he might not get them.
"Shore as you live I have," answered the foreman, picking up the pail andstarting toward the bunk-house. "Come in and wet the dust--it's hot outhere."
"Let me have the paper first--I want to scrawl a note before I forgetabout it," the sheriff responded as he seated himself on a bunk and lookedcritically about him at the bullet-riddled walls and pictures.
Sneed handed him an ink bottle and placed a piece of wrapping paper anda corroded pen on the table.
"That paper ain't for love letters, the ink is mud, and the pen's abrush, but I reckon you can make tracks, all right," the host remarked ashe pushed a bench up to the table for his guest. "And if them punchersdon't make tracks for home purty lively, I'll salt their hides and peg'em on the wall to cure," he grumbled, rummaging for a bottle and cup.When he placed the tin cup on the table he grinned foolishly, for itwas plugged with a cork. "D----d outlaw!" he grunted.
"There," remarked the sheriff, fanning the note in the air. "That's done,if it'll ever dry."
"Blow on it," suggested Sneed, and then smiled.
"Here, wait a minute," he said, stepping to the door, where he scooped upa handful of sand. "Throw this on it--it can't get no muddier, anyhow."
Shields carefully folded the missive and tucked it in his hip pocket, andthen he looked up at the foreman.
"Sneed," he slowly began, "your punchers ain't never coming back."
"What!" yelled the foreman, leaping to his feet, and having visions ofhis men being cut up by outlaws and Indians.
"Nope," replied Shields with an air of finality. "Bill Howland gave themthe most awful beating up that I ever saw men get, the whole four ofthem, too! When he got through with them I took a hand and ordered them toget out of the country, and I told them that if they ever came back I'dshoot on sight, and I will."
Sne
ed's rage was pathetic, and was not induced by the beating his menhad received, nor by the sheriff's orders, but because it left him onlythree men to work a ranch which needed twelve. As he listened to thesheriff's story he paced back and forth in the small room and sworeluridly, kicking at everything in sight, except the sheriff. Then hecooled down, spread his feet far apart and stared at Shields.
"Why didn't you kill 'em, the d----d fools?" he cried. "That's whatthey deserved!" Then he paused. "But what am I going to do?" he asked."Where'll I get men, and what'll I do 'til I do get 'em?"
"I'll send Charley and half a dozen of the boys out from town to staywith you 'til you get some others," replied the sheriff, walking towardthe door. "And you might tell the three that are left that I'll kill thenext man who tries that kind of work in this country. I'm getting goodand tired of it. So long."
Sneed didn't hear him, but sat with his head in his hands for severalminutes after the sheriff had gone, swearing fluently.
"Orphan h--l!" he yelled as he picked up the water pail and stamped tothe cook shack.
