by Brand, Max
For answer Kilduff removed the mouth-organ to take a deep breath, blinked his small eyes, and began again in a still higher key.
"Go slow, Terry," advised Rhinehart in a soft tone. "Kilduff ain't feelin' none too well tonight."
"What's the matter with him?" growled the scar-faced man, none too anxious to start an open quarrel with the formidable Kilduff.
Rhinehart jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
"The gal in there. He don't like the game the chief has been workin' with her."
"Neither do I," said Purvis, "but I'd do worse than the chief done to get Lee Haines back."
"Get Haines back?" said Kilduff, his voice ominously deep. "There ain't no chance of that. If there was I wouldn't have no kick against the chief for what he's done to Kate."
"Maybe there'ssome chance," suggested Rhinehart.
"Chance, hell!" cried Kilduff. "One man agin a whole town full? I say all that Jim has done is to get Whistlin' Dan plugged full of lead."
"Well," said Purvis, "if that's done, ain't the game worth while?"
The rest of the men chuckled and even Kilduff smiled.
"Old Joe Cumberland is sure takin' it hard," said "Calamity" Rhinehart. "All day he's been lightin' into the girl."
"The funny part," mused Purvis, "is that the old boy really means it. I think he'd of sawed off his right hand to keep her from goin' to Whistlin' Dan."
"An' her sittin' white-faced an' starin' at nothin' an' tryin' to comforthim! " rumbled Kilduff, standing up under the stress of his unwonted emotion. "My God, she was apologizin' for what she done, an' tryin' to cheer him up, an' all the time her heart was bustin'."
He pulled out a violently coloured bandana and wiped his forehead.
"When we all get down to hell," he said, "they'll be quite a little talkin' done about this play of Jim's-you c'n lay to that."
"Who's that singin' down the canyon?" asked Jordan. "It sounds like-"
He would not finish his sentence as if he feared to prove a false prophet. They rose as one man and stared stupidly at one another.
"Haines!" broke out Rhinehart at last.
"It ain't no ways possible!" said Kilduff. "And yet-by God, it is!"
They rushed for the door and made out two figures approaching, one on horseback, and the other on foot.
"Haines!" called Purvis, his shrill voice rising to a squeak with his excitement.
"Here I am!" rang back the mellow tones of the big lone rider, and in a moment he and Jim Silent entered the room.
Glad faces surrounded him. There was infinite wringing of his hand and much pounding on the back. Kilduff and Rhinehart pushed him back into a chair. Jordan ran for a flask of whisky, but Haines pushed the bottle away.
"I don't want anything on my breath," he said, "because I have to talk to a woman. Where's Kate?"
The men glanced at each other uneasily.
"She's here, all right," said Silent hastily. "Now tell us how you got away."
"Afterwards," said Haines. "But first Kate."
"What's your hurry to see her?" said Kilduff.
Haines laughed exultantly.
"You're jealous, Bill! Why, man, she sent for me! Sent Whistling Dan himself for me."
"Maybe she did," said Kilduff, "but that ain't no partic'lar sign I'm jealous. Tell us about the row in Elkhead."
"That's it," said Jordan. "We can't wait, Lee."
"Just one word explains it," said Haines. "Barry!"
"What did he do?" This from every throat at once.
"Broke into the jail with all Elkhead at his heels flashing their six-guns-knocked down the two guards-unlocked my bracelets (God knows where he got the key!)-shoved me onto the bay-drove away with me-shot down two men while his wolf pulled down a third-made my horse jump a set of bars as high as my head-and here I am!"
There was a general loosening of bandanas. The eyes of Jim Silent gleamed.
"And all Elkhead knows that he's the man who took you out of jail?" he asked eagerly.
"Right. He's put his mark on them," responded Haines, "but the girl, Jim!"
"By God!" said Silent. "I've got him! The whole world is agin him-the law an' the outlaws. He's done for!"
He stopped short.
"Unless you're feelin' uncommon grateful to him for what he done for you, Lee?"
"He told me he hated me like hell," said Haines. "I'm grateful to him as I'd be to a mountain lion that happened to do me a good turn. Now for Kate!"
"Let him see her," said Silent. "That's the quickest way. Call her out, Haines. We'll take a little walk while you're with her."
The moment they were gone Haines rushed to the door and knocked loudly. It was opened at once and Kate stood before him. She winced at sight of him.
"It's I, Kate!" he cried joyously. "I've come back from the dead."
She stepped from the room and closed the door behind her.
"What of Dan? Tell me! Was-was he hurt?"
"Dan?" he repeated with an impatient smile. "No, he isn't hurt. He pulled me through-got me out of jail and safe into the country. He had to drop two or three of the boys to do it."
Her head fell back a little and in the dim light, for the first time, he saw her face with some degree of clearness, and started at its pallor.
"What's the matter, Kate-dear?" he said anxiously.
"What of Dan?" she asked faintly.
"I don't know. He's outlawed. He's done for. The whole range will be against him. But why are you so worried about him, Kate?-when he told me that you loved me-"
She straightened.
"Love?You? "
His face lengthened almost ludicrously.
"But why-Dan came for me-he said you sent him-he-" he broke down, stammering, utterly confused.
"This is why I sent him!" she answered, and throwing open the door gestured to him to enter.
He followed her and saw the lean figure of old Joe Cumberland lying on a blanket close to the wall.
"That's why!" she whispered.
"How does he come here?"
"Ask the devil in his human form! Ask your friend, Jim Silent!"
He walked into the outer room with his head low. He found the others already returned. Their carefully controlled grins spoke volumes.
"Where's Silent?" he asked heavily.
"He's gone," said Jordan.
Hal Purvis took Haines to one side.
"Take a brace," he urged.
"She hates me, Hal," said the big fellow sadly. "For God's sake, was there no other way of getting me out?"
"Not one! Pull yourself together, Lee. There ain't no one for you to hold a spite agin. Would you rather be back in Elkhead dangling from the end of a rope?"
"It seems to have been a sort of-joke," said Haines.
"Exactly. But at that sort of a joke nobody laughs!"
"And Whistling Dan Barry?"
"He's done for. We're all agin him, an' now even the rangers will help us hunt him down. Think it over careful, Haines. You're agin him because you want the girl. I want that damned wolf of his, Black Bart. Kilduff would rather get into the saddle of Satan than ride to heaven. An' Jim Silent won't never rest till he sees Dan lyin' on the ground with a bullet through his heart. Here's four of us. Each of us want something that belongs to him, from his life to his dog. Haines, I'm askin' you man to man, was there any one ever born who could get away from four men like us?"
* * *
It was close to sunset time when they reached the old Salton place, where they found Silent sitting on the porch with Haines, Kilduff, Jordan, and Rhinehart. They stood up at sight of the newcomers and shouted a welcome. Buck waved his hand, but his thoughts were not for them. The music he had heard Dan whistle formed in his throat. It reached his lips not in sound but as a smile.
At the house he swung from the saddle and shook hands with Jim Silent. The big outlaw retained Buck's fingers.
"You're comin' in mighty late," he growled, "Didn't you get the signal?"
&nb
sp; Buck managed to meet the searching eyes.
"I was doin' better work for you by stayin' around the house," he said.
"How d'you mean?"
"I stayed there to pick up things you might want to know. It wasn't easy. The boys are beginnin' to suspect me."
"The cowpunchers is gettin' so thick around those parts," broke in Purvis, "that Buck wouldn't even let me go back to his house with him to get my gun."
The keen eyes of Silent never left the face of Daniels.
"Don't you know that Gus Morris gives us all the news we need, Buck?"
Rhinehart and Jordan, who were chatting together, stopped to listen. Buck smiled easily.
"I don't no ways doubt that Morris tells you all he knows," he said, "but the pint is that he don't know everything."
"How's that?"
"The rangers is beginnin' to look sidewise an' whisper when Morris is around. He's played his game with us too long, an' the boys are startin' to think. Thinkin' is always dangerous."
"You seem to have been doin' some tall thinkin' yourself," said Silent drily; "you guess the cowpunchers are goin' on our trail on their own hook?"
"There ain't no doubt of it."
"Where'd you hear it?"
"Young Seaton."
"He's one of them?"
"Yes."
"I'll remember him. By the way, I see you got a little token of Whistlin' Dan on your arm."
He pointed to the bandage on Buck's right forearm.
"It ain't nothin'," said Buck, shrugging his shoulders. "The cuts are all healin' up. The arm's as good as ever now."
"Anyway," said Silent, "you got somethin' comin' to you for the play you made agin that devil."
He reached into his pocket, drew out several twenty dollar gold pieces (money was never scarce with a lone rider) and passed them to Buck. The latter received the coin gingerly, hesitated, and then returned it to the hand of the chief.
"What the hell's the matter?" snarled the big outlaw. "Ain't it enough?"
"I don't want no money till I earn it," said Buck.
"Life's gettin' too peaceful for you, eh?" grinned Silent.
"Speakin' of peace," chimed in Purvis, with a liberal wink at the rest of the gang, "Buck allows he's the boy who c'n bring the dove o' the same into this camp. He says he knows the way to bring the girl over there to see reason."
Buck followed the direction of Purvis's eyes and saw Kate sitting on a rock at a little distance from the shanty in which she lived with her father. She made a pitiful figure, her chin cupped in her hand, and her eyes staring fixedly down the valley. He was recalled from her by the general laughter of the outlaws.
"You fellers laugh," he said complacently, "because you don't know no more about women than a cow knows about pictures."
"What do you think we should do with her, Solomon?" Buck met the cold blue eye of Haines.
"Maybe I ain't Solomon," he admitted genially, "but I don't need no million wives to learn all there is to know about women."
"Don't make a fool of yourself, Buck," said Silent. "There ain't no way of movin' that damn girl. She's gone on a hunger strike an' she'll die in it. We can't send her out of the valley. It's hell to have her dyin' on our hands here. But there ain't no way to make her change her mind. I've tried pleadin' with her-I've even offered her money. It don't do no good. Think of that!"
"Sure it don't," sneered Buck. "Why, you poor bunch of yearlin' calves, she don't need no coaxin'. What she needs is a manhandlin'. She wants a master, that's what she wants."
"I suppose," said Haines, "you think you're man enough to change her?"
"None of that!" broke in Silent. "D'you really think you could do somethin' with her, Buck?"
"Can I do somethin' with her?" repeated Buck scornfully. "Why, boys, there ain't nothin' I can't do with a woman."
"Is it because of your pretty face or your winnin' smile?" growled the deep bass of Bill Kilduff.
"Both!" said Buck, promptly. "The wilder they are the harder they fall for me. I've had a thirty-year old maverick eatin' out of my hand like she'd been trained for it all her life. The edyoucated ones say I'm 'different'; the old maids allow that I'm 'naive'; the pretty ones jest say I'm a 'man,' but they spell the word with capital letters."
"Daniels, you're drunk," said Haines.
"Am I? It'll take a better man than you to make me sober, Haines!"
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 cattl
e 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.
* * *
