The Lone Ranger and Tonto

by Fran Striker; Francis Hamilton Striker

  The masked man hesitated. He did not like to attack from the rear. It would give him an unfair advantage. Yet, he knew his strength had been almost exhausted a short time ago, and he doubted his ability to overpower the heavily built fellow. He could remain where he was and wait to see what the short man wanted of Delaney. He pondered this for a moment. The human gorilla's voice had had a certain quality that boded ill for Steve Delaney. If Delaney were killed, the whole night's work would go for nothing and the masked man might never learn the truth about Dave Walters.

  Who was there to count on if Steve Delaney could not be forced to give some information that might establish Dave's innocence? Who had Dave Walters mentioned in his story?

  His parents of course, but they could not be found. The friend in New Orleans who had first suggested robbery as a means of sudden riches—Dave hadn't given the young, false friend's name; the men on the railroad gang where he had worked, but here again, no names had been mentioned. The masked man tried to remember some part of Dave's story that might give him a lead to follow. What was the name of the fellow to whom Dave had given the note confessing his crime? "Higgy"—that was it—simply "Higgy"—not much to go on there.

  The Lone Ranger had no choice. He would have to confront the stocky fellow in the damp grass between himself and the living quarters of Steve Delaney. He would have to subdue him and keep him back until—but then all plans were discarded. Lights flared in the windows where Delaney was said to live. Then the short man rose to his feet and headed directly for the windows.

  A small door at the side of the saloon near the rear gave Steve Delaney access to his rooms without having to go through the front part of the place. The squatty man went straight to the door and jerked it open without ceremony.

  The Lone Ranger was too advanced. He saw Delaney in one of the rooms, saw the gambler turn quickly as the door burst open, and saw the surprise on Delaney's face as he stared into the ugly muzzle of a heavy gun.

  The Lone Ranger covered the remaining distance to the house in a few quick strides and crouched beneath the window with gun drawn. He was determined that Steve should not be killed. Too much depended upon his questioning of the gambler. For some reason, he seemed to feel that Delaney could play an important part in proving Dave Walters's innocence. And he proposed to see that Delaney did play that important part.

  The gambler recovered his composure quickly after the first shock of seeing the bull-headed, ugly-faced man. He leaned easily against a dresser in his room and there was the trace of a smile on his lips.

  The gambler's voice was quite distinct. "This is a surprise," he said, "what are you doing here, Higgy?"

  "Higgy!" the name of the one to whom Dave Walters had given his confession. Could this be the same individual? It was certainly an odd name. The chances were strongly against there being two men in the West with such a name. The Lone Ranger pressed closer to the window, watching each move and straining to hear every word.

  When the squat man saw that Delaney had no intention of making a sudden move to draw a gun, he relaxed slightly. The atmosphere of the room seemed tense—charged with an electric pulsation that might at any moment bring the pair to death grips. Higgy spoke slowly, "I reckon you must've forgot that I had somethin' comin' to me. Of course, Steve, it was just a little oversight on your part. An oversight that I can overlook as long as you pay me up now. You were goin' to send me somethin', weren't you?"

  "Yes, I was," replied Delaney. "I've been pretty busy for the past few days but I was going to take a trip over to Coon Hollow and see you personally."

  Higgy nodded his head. His grin was an ugly one that exposed yellow, malformed teeth. "Sure I know, Delaney, you've just been busy." There was mockery in his voice. "A man like you has a lot of affairs that need his attention an' you wouldn't want to trust anyone else to fetch a package to me at Coon Hollow. You think so much of me, you wanted to bring it personal just so's you'd have the chance to say 'howdy' to me."

  Delaney looked uneasy as the other spoke. Higgy appeared to be enjoying the situation. He had complete domination of Steve Delaney and he knew it. He kept his gun level while he spoke. "You an' me have been such good pals that you just couldn't bear tuh miss the chance tuh see me, could you?"

  The Lone Ranger noticed a peculiar discord in Higgy's personality. He looked like the sort of man who would shoot first and talk afterwards. He did not give the impression of being the type who toyed with words to play on the nerves and emotions of an opponent. Yet that was just what he was doing. He seemed to take genuine delight in seeing Delaney's discomfiture. He chose his words carefully and spoke slowly, almost as one would speak to a wayward child.

  Delaney said, "Put away the gun, Higgy, you know you don't need to hold a gun on me."

  "Now, Steve, of course I know I don't need to hold a gun on you. I could put the gun away, an' take a shot in the back, if I had a mind tuh. But yuh see, Steve, I hanker to go on livin' fer a time and enjoyin' the easy money that I've waited all my life to get. Now as to what I got comin'—"

  "You'll get it," snapped the gambler.

  "Oh, sure, sure thing, son. I'll get it all right. I know I'll get it. Wouldn't I have been the fool to have come all the way here from Coon Hollow without figurin' to get it?" He chuckled as if the thought struck him funny. "That would be a darned fool thing to do, now wouldn't it?"

  Delaney's patience was exhausted. "Stop this foolishness, you addle-headed ape. You don't dare pull that trigger and you know it. You wouldn't get two yards from that door before someone came in and drilled you. I've listened to you long enough. If you want your share of the loot, put down the gun and I'll get it for you. If you don't want to believe that I've been on the level with you, you can believe whatever you please."

  "Now, now, Steve," admonished Higgy, "that ain't no way fer you to talk to sech a good friend as you claim me tuh be."

  "Rot!" snapped Steve Delaney. "If it hadn't been for me, you—"

  "Yuh know what I think," interrupted Higgy, "I think maybe you figgered I'd be scared away when the kid headed intuh Snake River. Yuh thought I wouldn't dare tuh show myself around here tuh git what's rightfully mine."

  "I didn't think about you at all. I told you I'd been busy. Why you thick-skulled half-wit, you'd have settled for a tenth of what you've had so far, if I hadn't showed you the way to cash in on what you had!"

  "You didn't show me anything because yuh liked me. Yuh showed me the way tuh cash in in a big way, because by doin' so you could take a big slice of what I got. But even then you weren't satisfied. Yuh tried tuh win my share with yer crooked poker."

  "I told you I'd give you some cash. I'll do the best I can with you." The Lone Ranger noticed the change that came over the gambler's face when he said this. It looked as if he'd had a sudden inspiration, an idea that might be turned to good use.

  Higgy's grin vanished and a scowl replaced it. "Just what d'you mean by doin' the best yuh can with me? That sounds a heap like you didn't figger on splittin' even with me."

  "Haven't you heard about the excitement in town?"

  Higgy shook his head.

  "You must have noticed that there was a lot of activity around here for this time of night."

  "Didn't notice nothin'. You tell me what yuh meant by yer remark."

  "A masked man came into town and broke Dave Walters out of the jail!"

  Higgy showed genuine surprise. "Is that so? Who's the masked man?"

  "No one knows," replied the gambler regaining his composure when he saw that Higgy's curiosity and interest had been aroused. "There were robberies as well," he finished.

  "Robberies, eh? An' who was robbed?"

  "I myself was one of the victims."

  "You? No, don't try tuh tell me that yuh lost anything that was rightfully mine!"

  "I'll tell you the whole story," said Delaney. "This masked man came and took Dave out of jail before the men could get to lynching him. The Sheriff and a lot of other men went out to
hunt them. While they were out, and they're still out hunting, the masked man returned to Snake River and robbed John Langford and then he robbed me."

  "Now wasn't that right convenient," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "He robbed Langford, so Langford can't pay out any more, an' then he robbed you, so you couldn't pay up what you owe me. It looks like I'm the one that this masked stranger has hit the hardest." He drew back the hammer of his .44 with a sharp click. "At least," he said, his voice becoming menacing, "it would look so if I was to believe this lie you told me."

  "Lie? It's no lie! You can ask anyone in town!" Higgy dropped the silky manner of speaking and his voice was hard and cold. "I say it's lies. Delaney, you're a smooth talker and a smoother liar. That's how you made a success at gamblin'! You let yer face lie for yuh when yer tongue didn't need tuh, but now yer bein' called. I don't believe a word yuh say." Higgy advanced closer while Delaney gave ground and backed against the dresser. The gambler saw resolution in Higgy's face and raised his hand to protest. But Higgy came close, jabbing his gun hard against the gambler's chest. "Where," he demanded, "is the cash you owe me! Give it to me, or I'll let yuh have hot lead!"

  Chapter VIII

  THE MASKED MAN'S WAY

  The Lone Ranger held his gun in readiness. There were now two men he wanted to confront with a demand for what they knew about Dave Walters. He still desired a conference with Steve Delaney, and he wanted desperately to talk to this man called Higgy. When Higgy jammed his .44 into the chest of the gambler, threatening to fire at any instant, Delaney lost his composure. Panic showed in his face, and that panic might make him snatch for the small gun on his dresser and risk a shot at his caller.

  This might result in death for one or both of the men inside. The Lone Ranger had already heard many things as he crouched at the window, and he hoped to hear something that would shed light on the Dave Walters's situation. He did not want to intervene in the discussion unless it became absolutely necessary. He was fully aware of the risk in waiting. His keen eyes, staring from behind his mask, watched Higgy's trigger finger. If that finger started to tighten, or if Steve Delaney gave the slightest indication that he would make an attempt to grab his gun, the masked man would have to fire. Moreover, he would have to fire with deadly accuracy; fire through the window glass, and blast away the gun of one or both the adversaries.

  But Steve Delaney had not attained his present position of prominence in the community through being cowardly or careless. He made his living by gambling, but he had the law of averages in his favor. He was not a man to gamble on the short end, and that is precisely what he would do if he tried to grab his gun. As he saw that Higgy did not intend to fire at the moment, he spoke again. His voice sounded very convincing, perhaps because a part of what he said was really true. His cool poise, when he regained it, did more than anything he might have said to convince Higgy that it might be well to listen.

  "I'm sorry, Higgy," said the gambler, "if shooting me is worth the risk, and if it will give you any satisfaction, you'll just simply have to shoot. I can't stop you." The gambler casually drew a cigar from a pocket of his vest and lighted it. He tilted his head to blow a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. Higgy appeared uncertain as to what he should do next.

  "If you'll stand back a little," the gambler continued, "I'll proceed with what I was about to do when you came in so suddenly." Higgy stepped back a pace and watched the tall man as he removed his coat and vest and hung them on hooks with meticulous care. This utter disregard for weapons was one of Delaney's many tricks. His contempt for aggressors had many times been of great help in taking him through situations of this sort.

  "Now, look here, Delaney," Higgy said, "I'm flat broke."

  "I'm sorry."

  Higgy took a more pleading manner. "If you could just give me a little somethin' on account. Just a few dollars or so, it would help out. You could pay the rest when you got it."

  Delaney said, "Not a dime. I'm just as broke as you are."

  Higgy began to speak but Delaney stopped him. "I don't care to hear any more arguments from you, Higgy. I resent the way you came in here and the way you threatened me. If you'd been halfway decent, I might have borrowed a little cash and given it to you, but you've called me a liar several times and threatened me. I admit my debt to you, and you'll get the cash when I can pay it."

  Higgy showed signs of having an idea. "Look here," he began, "can't yuh get some cash from the barroom? I understand you own this place."

  "Perhaps I can tomorrow, but I can't go out there now and take it, because it would raise a lot of questions. Not many people are aware of the fact that I'm the owner and I'd just as soon they didn't find it out."

  "Maybe they'll find this masked man an' the cash," suggested Higgy hopefully.

  "Perhaps they will. He can't be far away. You get a room at the hotel, you won't have to pay for it until you leave. I'll have a little cash for you in the morning, and perhaps by that time the masked man will be found. Keep out of sight, though, until I send for you." Delaney dropped his cigar to a dish on the dresser and ground it out in a way that suggested that so far as he was concerned the entire matter was settled.

  "Now look, Steve," Higgy said with an apologetic manner. "I don't want no bad feelins with you. I thought at first you was tryin' to put somethin' over on me, but now I know that ain't the case. I didn't know about this robbery."

  "All right," snapped Steve. "But keep out of sight and after you leave here, stay away from Snake Corners. As long as we are in this scheme together, you've got to do what I tell you."

  "Sure, sure thing Steve. I will, I promise."

  "By the way," said Steve, "where is the letter now? You didn't bring it with you, did you?"

  "Gosh no, that'd be too risky. If I lost that letter, we wouldn't have a thing left."

  "Where is it now?"

  "It's in a safe place," replied Higgy, "an' it's stayin' there!" He turned toward the door. "I'll be at the hotel when yuh got some cash fer me," he said and left the room.

  Letter? thought the Lone Ranger. Could that be the letter that Dave had mentioned? The letter to his father, in which he confessed his crime in New Orleans? The masked man watched Higgy as he drew away from the house and headed toward the hotel in a waddling sort of walk.

  After the short, broad-shouldered man left his rooms, Steve Delaney smiled in satisfaction. He moved to the window and closed the curtain that was draped from one side. Then he fastened a shade to the chimney of the lamp so that most of the light was directed to the floor. Anyone passing the rear of his place now would think the room was in darkness.

  The gambler crouched to the floor near the foot of the bed, taking a long-bladed knife from a hip pocket. Opening this, he inserted the keen blade into a crack between the floor boards and followed the crack along until he reached a place where two boards butted end to end. A little pressure brought a section of the floor up far enough for him to grip in his long, lean fingers and remove it.

  An opening was revealed, an opening about four inches wide and two feet long. Reaching down as far as his elbow, Delaney brought up a calfskin bag. He tugged at a drawstring and then spilled the contents of the bag on the floor beside the opening. A million lights danced from the collection of jewels that lay there. Diamond earrings, rings, a necklace, and brooches studded with precious and semi-precious stones gleamed in the dim lamplight. Some of the jewelry was valuable because of the stones it contained, but there was also a large assortment of old gold ornaments and gewgaws such as any woman would delight in owning.

  Delaney ran his index finger through the treasures, gloating in his possession of them. Satisfying himself with a lingering study of the collection, he rose and took his coat from the hook. From a side pocket, he extracted a pendant. He studied this for a moment, holding it close to the lamp. Eyes agleam he whispered, "Beautiful! I'll not split any part of this with that stupid ape. These jewels could never be appreciated by a man like Higgy. Let him be
satisfied with cash, I'll keep the jewels."

  He turned away from the lamp, intending to add the pendant to the rest of the assortment which had come from the home of old John Langford but he suddenly froze in his tracks. A calm, deep voice addressed him from the doorway. "A move," the speaker said, "and I will shoot."

  Delaney whirled and saw the tall form of the Lone Ranger. He saw the mask, and then a brace of heavy guns held in a far different manner than Higgy had held his weapon.

  "It looks," said the newcomer, "as if I have interrupted something."

  Steve Delaney tried to speak, but for once in his life found himself at a loss for words. This man had a vastly different manner than Higgy. He had the same sort of coolness that Delaney had. The eyes that studied him from behind the mask, steely eyes, showed that there would be no compromise, that this stranger would not be bluffed into leaving as Higgy had been. The pendant dangled from the gambler's nervous fingers.

  The masked man jammed one gun in leather and then closed the door. "I heard a great deal," he said "before I came in. Now I'm here for the showdown."

  Delaney looked like a fox that has been treed by dogs. He was completely on the defensive though he tried to feel otherwise. "You won't live till daylight," he snarled at the masked man. "The whole town's hunting you. If you're smart, you'll take what time you have to get away as far as you can."

  "You're nervous, Delaney, your hand is trembling. Perhaps you'd better put the pendant with the rest of the jewelry." He stepped forward. "I'll do it for you," he said, taking the bauble from the gambler's hand and tossing it atop the pile on the floor. "Now sit down."