by Max Brand
CHAPTER XIII
THE THREE
The whistling came from behind the hotel, and although it ended as soonas he reached the veranda of the building, Buck Daniels hurried to therear of the place. There were the long, low sheds of the barn, andbehind these, he knew, must be the corrals. He raced around the cornerof the shed and there came to a halt, for he saw a thing that turned hisblood to ice.
One of those rare rains of the mountain-desert had recently fallen andthe corrals behind the barn were carpeted with a short, thick grass. Inthe small corral nearest him he beheld, rolling on that carpet of grass,a great wolf--or a dog as large and as rough-coated as a wolf, and aman; and they were engaged in a desperate and silent struggle formastery. Their movements were so lightning fast that Buck Daniels couldnot make out distinct forms from the tangle. But he saw the great whiteteeth of the wolf flash in the sun one instant, and the next the man hadwhirled on top. It was Dan and Bart at play.
No outcry from Dan; no growl from the wolf. Buck felt the old chillwhich never left him when he saw the fierce game of the wolf and thewolf-man. All this passed in the twinkling of an eye, and then Dan, by aprodigious effort, had thrown the great beast away from him, so thatBart fell upon its back. Dan leaped with outstretched arms upon thefallen animal, and buried his clutching hands in the throat of thebeast.
Yet still there was a thrill to add to these, for now a black horseappeared in the picture, a miracle of slender, shimmering grace--and herushed with flattened ears upon the two twisting, writhing, prostratefigures. His teeth were bared--he was more like a prodigious dog than ahorse. And those teeth closed on the back of the man's neck--or did theymerely pinch his shirt?--and then Dan was dragged bodily away from thewolf and thrown through the air by a flirt of the stallion's head.
Horrible! Buck Daniels shuddered and then he grinned shamefacedly inapology to himself.
"The three of 'em!" he grunted, and stepped closer to the fence towatch.
The instant the man was torn away by the intercession of the horse, thewolf regained its feet and rushed upon him; but Dan had landed from hisfall upon his feet, with catlike agility, and now he dodged the rush ofthe wolf and the arrowy spring of the creature, and sprang in his turntowards the stallion.
The black met this attack by rearing, his ears flattened, his teethbared, his eyes terrible to behold. As the man raced close the stallionstruck with lightning hoofs, but the blow failed of its mark--by thebreadth of a hair. And the assailant, swerving like a will-o'-the-wisp,darted to the side of the animal and leaped upon its back. At the sameinstant the wolf left the ground with terribly gaping mouth in a springfor the rider; but Dan flattened himself along the shining back of hismount and the wolf catapulted harmlessly past.
After this failure the wolf-dog seemed to desire no further active partin the struggle, but took up a position to one side, and there, withlolling tongue and red-stained eyes, watched the battle continue. Thestallion, to be sure, kept up the conflict with a whole-hearted energy.Never had Buck Daniels in a long and varied career seen such wildpitching. The black leaped here and there, doubling about with thesinuous speed of a snake, springing high in the air one instant, andlanding the next on stiff legs; dropping to the ground the next second,and rolling to crush the rider; up again like a leaf jerked up by a galeof wind, and so the fierce struggle continued, with the wild riderslapping the neck of the horse as if he would encourage it to moreterrible efforts, and drumming its round barrel with vindictive heels.His hair blew black; his face flushed; and in his eyes there was the joyof the sailor, long land-bound, who climbs at last the tallest mast andfeels it pitch beneath him and catches the sharp tang of the travelledwind.
The struggle ceased as if in obedience to an inaudible command. From thefull frenzy of motion horse and man were suddenly moveless. Then Danslipped from his seat and stood before his mount. At once the ears ofthe stallion, which had been flat back, pricked sharply forward; theeyes of the animal grew luminous and soft as the eyes of a woman, and hedropped the black velvet of his muzzle beneath the master's chin. As forDan Barry, he rewarded this outburst of affection with no touch of hishand; but his lips moved, and he seemed to be whispering a secret to hishorse. The wolf in the meantime had viewed this scene with growingunrest, and now it trotted up and placed itself at the side of the man.Receiving no attention in this position, it caught the arm of the manbetween its great fangs and drew his hands down. The stallion, angeredby this interruption, raised a delicate forefoot to strike, and wasreceived with a terrific snarl--the first sound of the entire scene.
"Bart," said the man, and his voice was not raised or harsh, but came assoftly as running water, "if you ain't going to be a gentleman, I gotto teach you manners. Get up on Satan's back and lie down till I tellyou to get off."
The wolf received this command with a snarl even more blood-curdlingthan before, but he obeyed, slinking sidewise a reluctant pace or two,and then springing to the back of the stallion with a single bound.There he crouched, still snarling softly until his master raised asignificant forefinger. At that he lowered his head and maintained afiercely observant silence.
"Dan!" called Buck Daniels.
The other whirled.
"Speakin' of pets," observed Buck Daniels, "I heard tell once about agent that had a tame lion. Which you got the outbeatingest pair I eversee, Dan. Gentle, ain't they, like a stampede of cows!"
But Barry left this remark unanswered. He ran to the tall fence, placedhis hand on the top rail, and vaulted lightly over it. Then he claspedthe hand of the larger man, and his face lighted.
"Buck," he said, "I been sort of lonesome. It feels pretty good to seeyou agin."
"Oh man," answered Buck Daniels, "speakin' of bein' lonesome------" Hechecked himself. "How about steppin' inside and havin' a talk?"
The other started forward agreeably, but stopped almost at once.
"Heel!" he called, without turning his head.
Black Bart left the back of the stallion in a long bound that carriedhim half way to the fence. His next leap brought him over the rail andbeside his master. Buck Daniels moved back a step involuntarily.
"Bart," he said, "d'you know me?"
He stretched out his hand; and was received with a sudden baring of thefangs.
"Nice dog!" said Buck sarcastically. "Regular house-pet, ain't he?"
The other apparently missed the entire point of this remark. He said inhis gentle, serious way: "He used to be real wild, Buck. But now hedon't mind people. He let the cook feed him a chunk o' meat the otherday; and you remember he don't usually touch stuff that other men havehandled."
"Yep," grunted Buck, "it's sure disgustin' to have a dog as tame asthat. I'd bet he ain't killed another dog for a whole day, maybe!"
And still Barry saw no irony in this.
He answered, as gravely as before: "No, it was the day before yesterday.Somebody come to town and got drunk. He had two dogs, and sicked 'em onBart."
Buck Daniels controlled an incipient shudder.
"Both dead?"
"I was inside the house," said Dan sadly, "and it took me a couple ofseconds to get outside. Of course by that time Bart had cut theirthroats."
"Of course. Didn't the drunk guy try to pot Bart?"
"Yes, he got out his gun; but, Mr. O'Brien, the bartender, persuaded himout of it. I was glad there wasn't no trouble."
"My God!" exclaimed Buck Daniels. And then: "Well, let's go inside.We'll take your man-eater along, if you want to."
A shadow came in the eyes of Barry.
"Can't we talk jest as well out here?"
"What's the matter with findin' some chairs?"
"Because I don't like to get inside walls. You know how four walls seemlike so many pairs of eyes standin' around you?"
"No," said Buck bluntly, "I don't know nothin' of the kind. What d'youmean?"
"I dunno," answered Barry, depressed. "It jest seems that way. Ain't younoticed how sort of close it is in a house? Hard to breathe? Lik
e you hadon a shirt too small for you."
"We'll stay out here, then."
The other nodded, smiled, and made a gesture to the dog behind him.Black Bart crouched on the ground, and Dan Barry sat down cross-legged,his shoulders leaning against the shaggy pelt of Bart. Daniels followedthe example with less grace. He was thinking very hard and fast, and herolled a Durham cigarette to fill the interlude.
"I s'pose you're bustin' to find out the news about the folks," he saiddryly, at last.
The other sat with his hands loosely clasped in his lap. His wide eyeslooked far away, and there was about his lips that looseness, that lackof compression, which one sees so often in children. He might have sat,in that posture, for the statue of thoughtlessness.
"What folks?" he asked at last
Buck Daniels had lighted a match, but now he sat staring blank until thematch burned down to his fingers. With an oath he tossed the remnantaway and lighted another. He had drawn down several long breaths ofsmoke to the bottom of his lungs before he could speak again.
"Some people you used to know; I suppose you've forgotten all about 'em,eh?" His eyes narrowed; there was a spark of something akin to dread inthem. "Kate Cumberland?" he queried.
A light came in the face of Dan Barry.
"Kate Cumberland?" he repeated. "How is she, Buck? Lately, I beenthinkin' about her every day."
A trembling took the body and the voice of Daniels; his errand, afterall, might meet some success.
"Kate?" he repeated. "Oh, ay, she's well enough. But Joe Cumberlandain't."
"No?"
"He's dyin' Dan."
And Dan replied calmly. "He's kind of old, I s'pose."
"Old?" said Buck, with a sort of horror. "Yes, he's old, right enough.D'you know why he's dying? It's because you went away the way you done,Dan. That's what's killin' him."
Something of thought came in the face of Barry.
"Maybe I understand," he said slowly. "If I was to lose Satan, orBart--" here the great dog whined at the mention of his name, and Barrydropped a slender hand across the scarred forehead of his servant. "If Iwas to lose 'em, I'd sort of mourn for 'em, maybe."
Buck Daniels set his teeth.
"I don't suppose it seems possible," he said, "that a man could missanother man the way you could miss your--dog, eh? But it is! JoeCumberland is dying for you, Dan, as sure as if you'd put a bullet inhis bowels."
The other hesitated and then frowned and made a gesture of vaguedismissal.
"Don't you figure on doin' nothing about it?" asked Buck softly.
"What could I do?"
"My God A'mighty, ain't you got no human feelin's?"
"I dunno what you mean," said the soft voice.
"This! Can't you git on your hoss and ride back with me to CumberlandRanch? Stay with the old man till he gets back on his feet. Ain't thateasy to do? Is your time so damned valuable you can't spare a few daysfor that?"
"But I am goin' back," answered Dan, in a rather hurt voice. "They ain'tno need for cussin' me, Buck. I been thinkin' of Kate, every day,almost."
"Since when?"
"I dunno." Dan stirred uneasily. He looked up, and far above Buck,following the direction of Dan's eyes, saw a pattern of wild geese. "Ibeen sort of driftin' North towards the Cumberland Ranch and Kate," wenton Dan. He sighed: "I been thinkin' of her eyes, which is blue, Buck,and her hair, and the soft sound of her voice. They been hangin' in myears, stayin' behind my eyes, lately, and I been driftin' up that waysteady."
"Why, man," cried Buck, "then what's there to keep you here? Jump onyour hoss, and we'll head North in ten minutes."
"I will!" said Dan, full as eagerly. "We'll start full speed."
"Come on, then."
"Wait a minute!" said Dan, his voice growing suddenly cold. "I beenforgettin' something."
Buck Daniels turned and found his companion strangely changed. There wasa set expression of coldness about his face, and a chill glitter in hiseyes.
"I got to wait here for something."
"What's that?"
"They's a man in town that may want to see me."
"Mac Strann! I've heard about him. Dan, are you goin' to let JoeCumberland die because you want to stay here and fight it out with adirty cutthroat?"
"I don't want to fight," protested Barry. "No, there ain't nothin' Ilike less than fightin'!"
Buck Daniels cursed softly and continuously to himself.
"Dan," he said, "can you sit there and lie like that to me? Ain't I seenyou in action? Don't I remember the way you trailed Jim Silent? Don't Iremember how we all got down and prayed you to keep away from Jim? Don'tI remember how you threw everything to hell so's you could get yourhands on Jim? My God A'mighty, man, didn't I see your face when you hadyour fingers in Silent's throat?"
An expression of unutterable revulsion rippled over the face of DanBarry.
"Stop!" he commanded softly, and raised his slender hand. "Don't keep ontalkin' about it. It makes me sick--all through. Oh, Buck, they's atingle in the tips of my fingers still from the time I had 'em in histhroat. And it makes me feel unclean--the sort of uncleanness that won'twash out with no kind of soap and water. Buck, I'd most rather diemyself than fight a man!"
A vast amazement overspread the countenance of Buck Daniels as helistened to this outburst; it was as if he had heard a healthy manproclaim that he had no desire for bread and meat. Something rose to hislips, but he swallowed it.
"Then it looks kind of simple to me," he said. "You hate fightin'. Thisgent Mac Strann likes it; he lives on it; he don't do nothing but waitfrom day to day hungerin' for a scrap. What's the out? Jest this! Youhop on your hoss and ride out with me. Young Jerry Strann kicks out--MacStrann starts lookin' for you--he hears that you've beat it--he goes offand forgets about you. Ain't that simple?"
The old uneasiness returned to the far-seeing eyes of Dan Barry.
"I dunno," he said, "maybe----"
Then he paused again.
"Have you got anything to say agin it?" urged Buck, arguing desperately.
"I dunno," repeated Barry, confused, "except that I keep thinking what aterrible disappointment it'll be to this Mac Strann when his brotherdies and I ain't around."
Buck Daniels stared, blinked, and then burst into unmelodious laughter.Satan trotted across the corral and raised his head above the fence,whinnying softly. Barry turned his head and smiled up to the horse.
Then he said: "Seems like if Jerry Strann dies I owe somebody something.Who? Mac Strann, I reckon. I sort of got to stay and give him hischance."
"I hope to God," burst out Daniels, smashing his hands together, "thatMac Strann beats you to a pulp! That's what I hope!"
The eyes of Dan Barry widened.
"Why d'you hope that?" he asked gently.
It brought Daniels again to speechlessness.
"Is it possible?" he growled to himself. "Are you a human bein' and yetyou think more of your hoss and your damned wolf-dog than you do of thelife of a man? Dan, I'm askin' you straight, is that a square thing todo?"
The fragile hands went out to him, palm up.
"Don't you see, Buck? I don't want to be this way. I jest can't helpit!"
"Then the Lord help poor old Joe Cumberland--him that took you in out ofthe desert--him that raised you from the time you was a kid--him thatnursed you like you was his own baby--him that loved you more'n he lovedKate--him that's lyin' back there now with fire in his eyes, waitin',waitin', waitin', for you to come back. Dan, if you was to see him you'dgo down on your knees and ask him to forgive you!"
"I s'pose I would," murmured Barry thoughtfully.
"Dan, you're goin' to go with me!"
"I don't somehow think its my time for movin', Buck."
"Is that all you got to say to me?"
"I guess maybe it is, Buck."
"If I was to beg you to come for old-time's sake, and all we beenthrough together, you and me, wouldn't it make no difference to you?"
The large, gentle eyes
focused far beyond Buck Daniels, somewhere on apoint in the pale, hazy blue of the spring sky.
"I'm kind of tired of talkin', Buck," he said at length.
And Buck Daniels rose and walked slowly away, with his head fallen.Behind him the stallion neighed suddenly and loud, and it was so muchlike a blast of defiant triumph that Buck whirled and shook his clenchedfist at Satan.
