by Brand, Max
“Here we are again,” said Silver.
He kicked the door shut behind him.
“Stand up and come over here, Danny,” he commanded.
Farrel rose. He was shaking from head to foot. He was the only man in the room who seemed close to a break-down.
“Don’t get between me and either of them,” said Silver.
Farrel edged around the wall as though a great fire were blazing in the center of the room. He had to take short steps because of the rope that was fastened about his knees. His hands were tied behind his back.
“You two,” said Silver, “turn and face the wall.”
He added: “Hoist your hands, first. And see that the hand you lift from that hip is empty, Waring. I’m watching you a little harder than I’m watching Rutherford, in case you’re in doubt about it.”
Starting to turn, Waring and Rutherford looked at one another. They paused and seemed to consult with glances. Then they kept on turning until they were facing the wall. They lifted their hands high above their heads and stood rigid. The tail of Waring’s coat was hitched up almost to the small of his back, and his big-handled revolver showed.
Silver said: “I’m going to shift one gun into my pocket and keep you fellows covered with the right-hand gun only. If you want to try a sudden break, that’ll be your opportunity.”
He slipped one gun down between his legs, as he spoke. A shudder went through the body of Waring. Rutherford, who seemed to read the mind of his companion, barked suddenly:
“Don’t be a fool, Waring. You’ll get the pair of us killed out of hand, the first thing you know.”
So Waring stood fast, but the noise of his heavy breathing was loud through the room.
Silver took out a knife, pressed the spring that made the blade fly out, and, without taking his eyes from his double target, found the ropes that tied the hands of Dan Farrel.
When Farrel was free, he snatched the knife from Silver, cut the tie rope that bound his knees together, and leaned over Delgas.
“This fellow first, Jim?” he asked.
“Take him first,” agreed Silver.
He gave one glance downward to the bleeding face of Delgas. It sagged as though the blow on the forehead had smashed all the other bones of the countenance so that the features were as soft as putty.
Farrel threw the man’s coat open and took away the guns from the holsters beneath the pits of the arms. He took a bit of the rope which had been used on him and trussed Delgas hand and foot. The fallen man was coming to. He breathed like one out of breath after being in water, making a heavy puffing sound.
Still his eyes were not open when Farrel left him and went across the room to the other pair. They had not stirred. Only, as the shadow of Farrel swept across the wall, Waring said half aloud:
“Somebody gets it, for this.”
His big, fat body was still quivering. His pretended humility left him. He was the fighting beast pure and simple, overlaid with certain layers of blubber.
Farrel got the guns, and from Waring a long, straight-bladed knife that could apparently be used for throwing as well as for handwork.
After that, he procured more rope and made the two fast. He had finished that task and armed himself with a pair of guns when the voice of Red came down the hallway, softly singing. His hand fell with a respectful knock at the door.
“Come!” called Silver.
The door opened, with the voice of Red coming cheerfully through the gap before the way was clear to his eyes.
“The herds are coming up,” he said, “and we’re ready to start running ’em at the — ”
He had the door open by this time. He could see his three leaders helplessly tied, and the guns of Silver were hardly a yard from his breast. He put out his head in a queer way, like a rooster stretching his neck before crowing. Then he began to hoist his hands. They were level with his shoulders before Silver said:
“You see the lay of the land, brother?”
Red nodded convulsively.
And he whispered immediately afterward, under his breath: “I had the hunch right from the start. I had the hunch that I wouldn’t be able to push the thing through. I knew from the start that the crooks would go down — fool that I am!”
“Jim, don’t do him any harm,” said Danny Farrel.
He moved up a hand toward his own bruised face.
“Except for Red, I’d have every bone in my body broken,” said Farrel. “I’d be dead by this time, I guess, or worse than dead, if Delgas had had his way with me, but Red stood in between.”
“Did he?” asked Silver.
His cold eye ran slowly over the body and then over the face, over the frightened, staring soul of the cow-puncher.
“Talk up for yourself, Red,” said Silver. “Any reason why you shouldn’t go where the other three are going?”
Red started to speak, thought better of it, locked his jaws. He thrust out his head still farther and looked Silver suddenly in the eyes.
“You go to the devil,” said Red.
At that, Silver laughed.
“Not going to make any excuses, Red?” he asked.
The thick shoulders of the cow-puncher shrugged.
“Well,” said Silver, “I’ll tell you what. You just ease yourself outside the door and go tell the other boys that the game’s up. We’ve got the three of ’em. We’ve got them, but if the rest of the boys want to take their horses and high-tail out of these diggings, nobody will stop ’em. Understand?”
Red nodded.
“Get out!” commanded Silver.
Red hesitated one longer moment. Then he backed through the door with his hands still held high. He kept on backing till the dark of the hall was about to swallow him, and Silver slammed and locked the door in his face.
He turned and sat down.
Delgas woke up with a start and began to babble: “Come on, boys! Come on! Down with ’em!”
“Oh, shut up,” said Rutherford. “Don’t you know you’re licked with the rest of us?”
Delgas sat up, and started at Silver.
“It’s no good,” he said. “You done some mind reading, Harry — and Silver was in the house all the time.”
“Sure he was in the house,” snarled Rutherford.
Waring sank his big chin on his chest and stared down at the table. His rage had not grown less. When his eyes stirred, they showed smoking fire.
“Beaten,” he said, “like three curs.”
“It looks to me as though we can send you fellows up for close to life,” Silver said. “Cattle rustling doesn’t go down very well in this state.”
Rutherford was staring at Silver in silence. His eyes could not move from the face of the big man.
But Delgas said: “We’ll find our way out of that.”
“It looks to me,” said Silver, “that we can make some sort of an agreement out of this thing.”
He was interrupted by a sudden outburst of yelling from the men beyond the house. Some one fired three shots through the outer wall of the rooms and roared:
“Rutherford! Rutherford! Speak up and let’s know the truth about it!”
“Hello!” called Rutherford calmly. “That you, Lefty?”
“It’s me, and what — ”
“Shut up,” said Rutherford. Lefty was still.
“I’m tied hand and foot,” said Rutherford. He took out the words one by one, like a showman exhibiting his wares. The deliberation with which he spoke was apparently a sign of the exquisite agony of shame which he was enduring. He could not grow paler, because his face was normally as pale as a bone, but his mouth kept working slightly at the corners.
“You’re tied hand and foot?” howled Lefty. “Where’s Delgas then? Is what Red tells us the straight of it?”
“Red tells you the straight,” said Rutherford.
A torrent of cursing came from Lefty, who finished: “What’s happened?”
“I’ve been a fool,” said Rutherford. “I’ve
been handled like a baby. There’s nothing I can do. You boys take care of yourselves, because Jim Silver has won once more!”
Lefty departed. He bade no farewell, but his going was announced by the diminishing volume of his voice as he went off, cursing at every step. A moment later, with a wild whooping, the whole body of the cow-punchers started to circle the house, and the louder they yelled, the faster they fired their revolvers into the building.
Nearly every one of the bullets ranged through the house from side to side. One struck the table and split it clear across. Another peeled a great splinter off the floor, slapping it up against the wall. Another smashed the knob of the door, striking out a chime as if from a bell. Still another slug took the hat off Waring’s head.
Danny Farrel shrank into a corner. It was notable that not one of the other four so much as stirred in his place. Silver occupied himself, during the uproar, with making a cigarette for Delgas. He put it between the lips of Delgas and lighted it. Delgas nodded his thanks as the horde of cow-punchers and ex-convicts ran yelling off across the desert.
“All right,” said Silver, “we can talk business now. The boys have gone. Waring, I suppose you’re the most poisonous of the gang. We’ll take enough of your money to pay for as many steers of mine as are missing, but I don’t think we’ll take your scalp. Rutherford, you and Delgas have one easy way out. You’ve tried to do more harm, here, than you’ve managed to wangle, but — ”
A door slammed. The steps and the voice of the girl rapidly approached the room.
Silver’s nerves for the first time showed that they were ragged. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
“Go and stop that noise!” he commanded Farrel.
Dan Farrel left the room. As he opened the door, Silver could hear the girl crying out in a frenzied panic.
The door shut, and Silver sighed with relief. He found that Waring was looking at him with a queer, twisted smile.
“You don’t like the females, Silver, eh?” he asked. “Maybe not,” answered Silver.
“That’s a weakness,” said Waring. “And I’m glad to know that you’ve got one. But, believe me, brother, the bigger you are and the longer you take, the harder you’ll fall for ’em, one of these days. Go on and talk your business. I’ve lost a lot on this job, and I’m going to call myself lucky to get out without losing more blood than dollars.”
CHAPTER XXVI
THE HAND FROM THE GRAVE
The end of the thing was in sight. Silver was quick about it. He merely said: “Delgas, you and Rutherford got in on this thing for nothing. It was Steve Wycombe’s idea to hook the three of us. Well, you almost snagged me, and just slipped up.”
“Where were you?” said Delgas.
“Hanging onto the rods under the girl’s bed,” said Silver, and smiled on them.
They heard in silence. Rutherford swayed his pale face from side to side.
“Yeah,” said Delgas. “All the big things come easy.”
“Now, then,” said Silver, “I’ve plenty of stuff on you, out of this deal. I can have you sent up. But I’m giving you a break.”
“Show me the break, and then I’ll believe it,” answered Delgas.”
“Listen and learn,” said Silver calmly. “Delgas, all you need to do is to sign a little paper that I’ll draw up for you. That paper deeds your share of the ranch to Danny Farrel. Understand?”
“Hey,” said Delgas, “why should I deed my share to that bum. He ain’t the one that handed me the rap! Deed it to you, you mean?”
“To Farrel,” said Silver. “Except for him, the job would never have gone through.”
He himself sat down at the table and took pen and paper. Rapidly he wrote, in a hand strangely small and swiftly flowing. When he had ended, he passed the paper to Delgas.
“How does that sound to you?” Silver asked.
“Yeah, I’ll sign,” said Delgas. “Same for Harry?”
“Ask him,” said Silver.
“Same for you, Harry?” asked Delgas.
Rutherford merely smiled. “The big hombre knows me better than I thought,” he declared.
“What’s that mean?” asked Delgas. “Have I gone and missed anything? I won’t sign, then. I ain’t signed it yet, anyway.”
“You’ll sign, you flat-faced fool!” said Rutherford. “I mean, the big boy knows what’s in my mind. I don’t take anything but lead from him.”
Silver opened the door and called. Danny Farrel answered at once with a joyous voice, and the girl’s cry of triumph joined with the sound.
“Danny,” Silver said, “get a pair of horses. Put Esther on one of ’em, and clear out. Don’t come back to this place before morning. Stay five mile away from it, unless you want to take a chance on your hide. Get out fast.”
The girl’s voice began to protest, but Farrel could be heard to say:
“Whatever he says is good enough for me. Come on. We’ll ride when Silver tells us to.”
“I dunno what the gag is,” said Delgas, agape.
Waring had closed his eyes. The motion of his lower jaw against his chest made his head sway up and down.
“They’re going to have it out, first,” he said. “They’re going to shoot it out, brother. Those two hombres ain’t made to live and circulate. Not on one little earth like this. The continents is too frequent, and the oceans is just wet places to step across, for birds like them.”
“I guess we can agree, Harry,” Silver said.
“I guess we can,” said Rutherford. “I’ll sign if you’ll fight for it afterward, Silver.”
“I’ll fight for it,” said Jim Silver.
He sat down to write, once more, and completed the second paper, by which Mr. Harry Rutherford legally transferred his rights to the Wycombe ranch to Daniel Farrel. When he had ended, he took two revolvers, laid one at each end of the table, and set Rutherford free from the ropes. He kept a gun in his hand until Rutherford had signed his name.
“Funny thing,” said Waring, as he looked on. “Now you’ve done the job for him, he could let the daylight into you, Harry.”
“He’s an honorable man, though,” answered Rutherford. His malice twisted his smile as he flung the pen down on the floor.
“What happens?” he asked.
“Go back to that opposite wall,” said Silver.
Rutherford went back to the opposite wall. Silver faced him. The table was exactly between them, and in front of each, a stride away, was a loaded gun.
“Stand a few inches away from the wall,” said Silver.
Rutherford obeyed.
“That’s to even things up,” said Silver. “I’m taller than you are and I could reach farther. Now, Harry, I’ll just toss this gun aside, and when I do that, we’ll both go for the guns. Is that right?”
“Right!” said Rutherford.
He looked aside at Waring, and then he said: “Silver, killing you is going to be the sweetest thing in my life!” He had put so much passion into the words that his breath was exhausted. He drew it in again with a drinking sound. And his eyes devoured Silver. His head was back. The eyelids were half lowered. He had almost the look of a man staring at a thing of surpassing beauty. There was the same sort of a smile on his face.
“Are you ready?” asked Silver.
“Ready,” said Rutherford.
“Are you on edge?”
“On edge!”
“Then go!” said Silver, and threw his gun aside.
He leaped for the other weapon at the same instant, and saw the flash of Rutherford’s hand, bright with speed like a bit of metal.
Then, before Silver’s eyes, he saw the table heel over and the Colt spill off to the side. It was Waring, who with his long leg had managed to reach the foot of the table and hook it suddenly toward him, spilling both weapons at Rutherford and away from Silver.
He saw Rutherford bending, picking a falling gun out of the air. But Silver did not dodge. He went straight on, and with the lift of his shoulder c
aught the edge of the table, hurling it before him right at Harry Rutherford.
Catching the gun from the air with unfailing hand, Rutherford had tried a snap shot even before he straightened his body. The bullet slit open the shirt along Silver’s left side. Then, with his bulk behind it, the table crashed against Rutherford.
The gun spoke again, but there was no whir of a bullet in the air. Waring was up, kicking at Silver with his spurs, using them as a game-cock fights. But Silver, bare-footed and swift as a cat, was on the other side of the table in an instant and had caught up a fallen Colt — his own. One gesture with that gun sent Waring crowding back into a corner.
Most of the body of Rutherford was hidden under the table, but his head and shoulders, jammed up against the wall, were visible. He had both arms pinned down, and he was not struggling to get free. Something about the eyes of the man told Silver just what had happened.
He jerked the table away and saw on the breast of Rutherford the spreading red stain of the blood. As the table struck him, a bullet from his own gun had penetrated his body. No doctor on earth would be able to heal that wound. Still, with a nerveless hand, he was trying to pick up the fallen revolver from the floor, but the weight of it slid through his fingers.
Rutherford began to smile.
“Poor Steve Wycombe thought he could make it three for one,” said he huskily. “But the poor devil was out of luck. He only got an even break. He only got — me!”
He seemed to nod a confirmation of his last words, but Silver knew that the head would never lift again. He picked up the body. It was hardly more heavy than the body of a child. Silver laid it straight on the floor and closed the eyes. He stood up and turned to Waring. Delgas, all this while, had sat entranced. Events had moved a little too fast for his comprehension.
“I ought to put you there beside him on the floor,” said Silver to Waring. “But you’ve a little too old. Besides, I need you for a witness, on both those little documents. But the law will do the rest of the talking to you, partner. You’re old enough to need a rest, and the state will take care of you free of charge.”
