The Texan

by James B. Hendryx

  CHAPTER XV

  THE TEXAN HEARS SOME NEWS

  Bat had pitched the tent upon a little knoll, screened by a juttingshoulder of rock from the sleeping place of the others. When Aliceawoke it was broad daylight. She lay for a few moments enjoying thedelicious luxury of her blankets which the half-breed had spread upon afoot-thick layer of boughs. The sun beat down upon the white canvasand she realized that it was hot in the tent. The others must havebeen up for hours and she resented their not having awakened her. Shelistened for sounds, but outside all was silence and she dressedhurriedly. Stepping from the tent, she saw the dead ashes of thelittle fire and the contents of the packs apparently undisturbed,covered with the tarp. She glanced at her watch. It was half pastnine. Suddenly she remembered that dawn had already began to grey theeast when they retired. She was the first one up! She would let theothers sleep. They needed it. She remembered the Texan had not sleptthe day before, but had ridden away to return later with the clothingfor Endicott--and the whiskey.

  "I don't see why he has to drink!" she muttered, and making her way tothe spring, dipped some water from the catch-basin and splashed it overher face and arms. The cold water dispelled the last vestige ofsleepiness and she stood erect and breathed deeply of the crystal air.At the farther side of the bowl-like plateau the horses grazedcontentedly, and a tiny black and white woodpecker flew from tree totree pecking busily at the bark. Above the edge of the rim-rocks thehigh-flung peaks of the Bear Paws belied the half-night's ride thatseparated them from the isolated Antelope Butte.

  "What a view one should get from the edge!" she exclaimed, and turningfrom the spring, made her way through the scraggly timber to the rockwall beyond. It was not a long climb and five minutes later she stoodpanting with exertion and leaned against an upstanding pinnacle ofjagged rock. For a long time she stood wonder-bound by the mightygrandeur of the panorama that swept before her to lose itself somewhereupon the dim horizon. Her brain grasped for details. It was all toobig--too unreal--too unlike the world she had known. In sheerdesperation, for sight of some familiar thing, her eyes turned towardthe camp. There was the little white tent, and the horses grazingbeyond. Her elevation carried her range of vision over the juttingshoulder of rock, and she saw the Texan sitting beside his blanketsdrawing on his boots. The blankets were mounded over the forms of theothers, and without disturbing them, the cowboy put on his hat andstarted toward the spring. At the sight of the little tent he pausedand Alice saw him stand staring at the little patch of white canvas.For a long time he stood unmoving, and then, impulsively, his two armsstretched toward it. The arms were as quickly withdrawn. The Stetsonwas lifted from his head and once more it seemed a long time that hestood looking at the little tent with the soft brim of his Stetsoncrushed tightly in his hand.

  Evidently, for fear of waking her, the man did not go to the spring,but retraced his steps and Alice saw him stoop and withdraw somethingfrom his war-bag. Thrusting the object beneath his shirt, he roseslowly and made his way toward the rim-rock, choosing for his ascent asteep incline which, with the aid of some rock ledges, would bring himto the top at a point not ten yards from where she stood.

  It was with a sense of guilt that she realized she had spied upon thisman, and her cheeks flushed as she cast about desperately for a meansto escape unseen. But no such avenue presented itself, and she drewback into a deep crevice of her rock pinnacle lest he see her.

  A grubby, stunted pine somehow managed to gain sustenance from thestray earth among the rock cracks and screened her hiding-place. Theman was very close, now. She could hear his heavy breathing and theclick of his boot heels upon the bare rocks. Then he crossed to thevery verge of the precipice and seated himself with his feet hangingover the edge. For some moments he sat gazing out over the bad lands,and then his hand slipped into the front of his shirt and withdrew abottle of whiskey.

  The girl's lips tightened as she watched him from behind her screen ofnaked roots and branches. He looked a long time at the bottle, shookit, and held it to the sun as he contemplated the little beads thatsparkled at the edge of the liquor line. He read its label, and seemeddeeply interested in the lines of fine print contained upon an ovalsticker that adorned its back. Still holding the bottle, he once morestared out over the bad lands. Then he drew the cork and smelled ofthe liquor, breathing deeply of its fragrance, and turning, gazedintently toward the little white tent beside the stunted pines.

  Alice saw that his eyes were serious as he set the bottle upon the rockbeside him. And then, hardly discernible at first, but graduallyassuming distinct form, a whimsical smile curved his lips as he lookedat the bottle.

  "Gosh!" he breathed, softly, "ain't you an' I had some nonsensicaltimes? I ain't a damned bit sorry, neither. But our trails fork here.Maybe for a while--maybe for ever. But if it is for ever, my averagewill be right honourable if I live to be a hundred." Alice noticed howboyish the clean-cut features looked when he smiled that way. Theother smile--the masking, cynical smile--made him ten years older. Theface was once more grave, and he raised the bottle from the rock. "Solong," he said, and there was just that touch of honest regret in hisvoice with which he would have parted from a friend. "So long. I'vegot a choice to make--an' I don't choose you."

  The hand that held the bottle was empty. There was a moment of silenceand then from far below came the tinkle of smashing glass. The Texangot up, adjusted the silk scarf at his neck, rolled a cigarette, andclambering down the sharp descent, made his way toward the grazinghorses. Alice watched for a moment as he walked up to his own horse,stroked his neck, and lightly cuffed at the ears which the horse laidback as he playfully snapped at his master's hand. Then she scrambledfrom her hiding-place and hurried unobserved to her tent, where shethrew herself upon the blankets with a sound that was somehow very likea sob.

  When the breakfast of cold coffee and biscuits was finished the Texanwatched Endicott's clumsy efforts to roll a cigarette.

  "Better get you a piece of twine to do it with, Win," he grinned; "yousure are a long ways from home when it comes to braidin' a smoke. Sawa cow-hand do it once with one hand. In a show, it was in Cheyenne,an' he sure was some cowboy--in the show. Come out onto the flats oneday where the boys was breakin' a bunch of Big O Little Ohorses--'after local colour,' he said." The Texan paused and grinnedbroadly. "Got it too. He clum up into the middle of a wall-eyedbuckskin an' the doc picked local colour out of his face for two hourswhere he'd slid along on it--but he could roll a cigarette with onehand. There, you got one at last, didn't you? Kind of humped up inthe middle like a snake that's swallowed a frog, but she draws allright, an' maybe it'll last longer than a regular one." He turned toAlice who had watched the operation with interest.

  "If you-all don't mind a little rough climbin', I reckon, you'd countthe view from the rim-rocks yonder worth seein'."

  "Oh, I'd love it!" cried the girl, as she scrambled to her feet.

  "Come on, Win," called the Texan, "I'll show you where God dumped thetailin's when He finished buildin' the world."

  Together the three scaled the steep rock-wall. Alice, scorningassistance, was the first to reach the top, and once more the splendourof the magnificent waste held her speechless.

  For some moments they gazed in silence. Before them, bathed in a paleamethyst haze that thickened to purple at the far-off edge of theworld, lay the bad lands resplendent under the hot glare of the sun invivid red and black and pink colouring of the lava rock. Everywherethe eye met the flash and shimmer of mica fragments that sparkled likethe facets of a million diamonds, while to the northward the Bear Pawsreared cool and green, with the grass of the higher levels reachingalmost to the timber line.

  "Isn't it wonderful?" breathed the girl. "Why do people stay cooped upin the cities, when out here there is--this?" Endicott's eyes methers, and in their depths she perceived a newly awakened fire. She wasconscious of a strange glow at her heart--a mighty gladness welled upwithin her, p
ermeating her whole being. "He has awakened," her brainrepeated over and over again, "he has----"

  The voice of the Texan fell upon her ears softly as from a distance,and she turned her eyes to the boyish faced cow-puncher who viewed lifelightly and who, she had learned, was the thorough master of hiswilderness, and very much a man.

  "I love it too," he was saying. "This bad land best of all. What withthe sheep, an' the nesters, the range country must go. But barbed-wirecan never change this," his arm swept the vast plain before him. "Isuppose God foreseen what the country was comin' to," he speculated,"an' just naturally stuck up His 'keep off' sign on places here an'there--the Sahara Desert, an' Death Valley, an' the bad lands. Hewanted somethin' left like He made it. Yonder's the Little Rockies,an' them big black buttes to the south are the Judith, an' you cansee--way beyond the Judith--if you look close--the Big Snowy Mountains.They're more than a hundred miles away."

  The cowboy ceased speaking suddenly. And Alice, following his gaze,made out far to the north-eastward a moving speck. The Texan crouchedand motioned the others into the shelter of a rock. "Wish I had a pairof glasses," he muttered, with his eyes on the moving dot.

  "What is it?" asked the girl.

  "Rider of some kind. Maybe the I X round-up is workin' the southslope. An' maybe it's just a horse-thief. But it mightn't be either.Guess I'll just throw the hull on that cayuse of mine an' siyou downand see. He's five or six miles off yet, an' I've got plenty of timeto slip down there. Glad the trail's on the west side. You two stayup here, but you got to be awful careful not to show yourselves. Folksdown below look awful little from here, but if they've got glassesyou'd loom up plenty big, an' posse men's apt to pack glasses." Thetwo followed him to camp and a few moments later watched him ride offat a gallop and disappear in the scrub that concealed the mouth of theprecipitous trail.

  Hardly had he passed from sight than Bat rose and, walking to hissaddle, uncoiled his rope.

  "Where are you going?" asked Endicott as the half-breed started towardthe horses.

  "Me, oh, A'm trail long behine. Mebbe-so two kin see better'n wan."

  A few minutes later he too was swallowed up in the timber at the headof the trail, and Alice and Endicott returned to the rim-rocks and froma place of concealment watched with breathless interest the course ofthe lone horseman.

  After satisfying himself he was unobserved, the Texan pushed from theshelter of the rocks at the foot of the trail and, circling the butte,struck into a coulee that led south-eastward into the bad lands. Amile away he crossed a ridge and gained another coulee which hefollowed northward.

  "If he's headin' into the bad lands I'll meet up with him, an' if he'sjust skirtin' 'em, our trails'll cross up here a piece," he reasoned ashis horse carried him up the dry ravine at a steady walk. Presently heslanted into a steep side coulee that led upward to the crest of a longflat ridge. For a moment he paused as his eyes swept the landscape andthen suddenly a quarter of a mile away a horseman appeared out ofanother coulee. He, too, paused and, catching sight of the Texan, dugin his spurs and came toward him at a run.

  The cowboy's brows drew into a puzzled frown as he studied the rapidlyapproaching horseman. "Well, I'll be damned!" he grinned, "ain't hethe friendly young spirit! His ma had ought to look after him better'nthat an' teach him some manners. The idea of any one chargin' up to astranger that way in the bad lands! One of these days he's a-goin' torun up again' an abrupt foreshortin' of his reckless young career."The rider was close now and the Texan recognized a self-important youngjackass who had found work with one of the smaller outfits.

  "It's that mouthy young short-horn from the K 2," he muttered,disgustedly. "Well, he'll sure cut loose an' earful of small talk. Hehates himself, like a peacock." The cowboy pulled up his horse with avicious jerk that pinked the foam at the animal's mouth and caused alittle cloud of dust to rise into the air. Then, for a moment, he satand stared.

  "If you was in such a hell of a hurry," drawled the Texan, "you couldof rode around me. There's room on either side."

  The cowboy found his voice. "Well, by gosh, if it ain't Tex! How theystackin', old hand?"

  "Howdy," replied the Texan, dryly.

  "You take my advice an' lay low here in the bad lands an' they won'tketch you. I said it right in the Long Horn yeste'day mornin'--theywas a bunch of us lappin' 'em up. Old Pete was there--an' I says toPete, I says, 'Take it from me they might ketch all the rest of 'em butthey won't never ketch Tex!' An' Pete, he says, 'You're just rightthere, Joe,' an' then he takes me off to one side, old Pete does, an'he says, 'Joe,' he says, 'I've got a ticklish job to be done, an' Iain't got another man I kin bank on puttin' it through.'"

  The Texan happened to know that Mr. Peter G. Kester, owner of the K 2,was a very dignified old gentleman who left the details of his ranchentirely in the hands of his foreman, and the idea of his drinking inthe Long Horn with his cowboys was as unique as was hearing himreferred to as "Old Pete."

  "What's ailin' him?" asked the Texan. "Did he lose a hen, or is hefixin' to steal someone's mewl?"

  "It's them Bar A saddle horses," continued the cowboy, without noticingthe interruption. "He buys a string of twenty three-year-olds offenthe Bar A an' they broke out of the pasture. They range over here onthe south slope, an' if them horse-thieves down in the bad lands hasgot 'em they're a-goin' to think twict before they run off any more K 2horses, as long as I'm workin' fer the outfit."

  "Are you aimin' to drive twenty head of horses off their own rangesingle handed?"

  "Sure. You can do it easy if you savvy horses."

  The Texan refrained from comment. He wanted to know who was supposedto be interested in catching him, and why. Had someone told the truthabout the lynching, and was he really wanted for aiding and abettingthe pilgrim's escape?

  "I reckon that's true," he opined. "They can't get me here in the badlands."

  The other laughed: "You bet they can't! Say, that was some ride youput up down to Wolf River. None of us could have done better."

  "Did you say they was headin' this way?"

  "Who?"

  "Who would I be thinkin' about now, I wonder?"

  "Oh! Naw! They ain't ready to make any arrests yet. The grand juryset special an' returned a lot of indictments an' you're one of 'em,but the districk attorney, he claims he can't go ahead until he digs upthe cripus delinkty----"

  "The what?"

  "Oh, that's a nickname the lawyers has got fer a pilgrim."

  "Wasn't one stranglin' enough for spreadin' out Purdy? What do theywant of the pilgrim?"

  "Spreadin' out Purdy!" exclaimed the other, "don't you know that Purdydidn't stay spread? Wasn't hardly hurt even. The pilgrim's bulletjust barely creased him, an' when Sam Moore went back with a springwagon to fetch his remains, Purdy riz up an' started cussin' him outan' scairt Sam so his team run away an' he lost his voice an' ain'tspoke out loud since--an' them's only one of the things he done. So,you see, you done your lynching too previous, an' folks is all stirredup about it, holdin' that lawless acts has got to be put a stop to inChoteau County, an' a pilgrim has got as good a right to live as thenext one. They're holdin' that even if he had got Purdy it would ofbe'n a damn good thing, an' they wasn't no call to stretch a man forthat. So the grand jury set, an' the districk attorney has got a gangof men diggin' up all the coulees for miles around, a-huntin' for thepilgrim's cripus delinkty so he kin go ahead with his arrests."

  The eyes of the Texan were fixed on the mountains. He appeared notinterested. Twenty feet away in a deep crevice at the edge of thecoulee, Bat Lajune, who had overheard every word, was convulsed withsilent mirth.

  "You say they've dug up all the coulees? Red Rock an'--an' all,Buffalo, Six-mile, Woodpile, Miller's?" The Texan shot out the nameswith all appearance of nervous haste, but his eye was sombre as beforeas he noted the gleam of quick intelligence that flashed into thecowboy's eyes. "You're sure they dug up Buffalo?" he pressed shrewdly.
r />   "Yes, I think they finished there."

  The Texan gave a visible sigh of relief. "Say," he asked, presently,"do you know if they're fordin' at Cow Island this year?"

  "Yes, the Two Bar reps come by that way."

  "I'm right obliged to you. I reckon I'll head north, though. Canadalooks good to me 'til this here wave of virtue blows over. So long."

  "So long, Tex. An', say, there's some of us friends of yourn that'sgoin' to see what we kin do about gettin' them indictments squashed.We don't want to see you boys doin' time fer stretchin' no pilgrim."

  "You won't," answered the Texan. "Toddle along now an' hunt up Mr.Kester's horses. I want room to think." He permitted himself a broadsmile as the other rode at a gallop toward the mountains, then turnedhis horse into the coulee he had just left and allowed him his own pace.

  "So Purdy ain't dead," he muttered, "or was that damned fool lyin'? Ireckon he wasn't lyin' about that, an' the grand jury, an' the districtattorney." Again he smiled. "Let's see how I stack up, now: In thefirst place, Win ain't on the run, an' I am--or I'm supposed to be.But, as long as they don't dig Win up out of the bottom of some coulee,I'm at large for want of a party of the first part to the allegedfelonious snuffin'-out. Gosh, I bet the boys are havin' fun watchin'that diggin'. If I was there I'd put in my nights makin' fresh-dugspots, an' my days watchin' 'em prospect 'em." Then his thoughtsturned to the girl, and for miles he rode unheeding. The sun had swungwell to the westward before the cowboy took notice of his surroundings.Antelope Butte lay ten or twelve miles away and he headed for it with alaugh. "You must have thought I sure enough was headin' for Cow IslandCrossing didn't you, you old dogie chaser?" He touched his horselightly with his spurs and the animal struck into a long swinging trot.

  "This here's a mixed-up play all around," he muttered. "Win's worryin'about killin' Purdy--says it's got under his hide 'til he thinks aboutit nights. It ain't so much bein' on the run that bothers him as it isthe fact that he's killed a man." He smiled to himself: "A littleworryin' won't hurt him none. Any one that would worry over shootin' apup like Purdy ought to worry--whether he done it or not. Then,there's me. I start out with designs as evil an' triflin' asPurdy's--only I ain't a brute--an' I winds up by lovin' her.Yes--that's the word. There ain't no mortal use beatin' around thebush to fool myself. Spite of silk stockin's she's good clean through.I reckon, maybe, they're wore more promiscuous in the East. That EagleCreek Ranch, if them corrals was fixed up a little an' them old cattlesheds tore down, an' the ditches gone over, it would be a good outfit.If it was taken hold of right, there wouldn't be a better propositionon the South Slope." Gloom settled upon the cowboy's face: "Butthere's Win. I started out to show him up." He smiled grimly. "Well,I did. Only not just exactly as I allowed to. Lookin' over theback-trail, I reckon, when us four took to the brush there wasn't onlyone damned skunk in the crowd--an' that was me. It's funny a man canbe that ornery an' never notice it. But, I bet Bat knew. He's puregold, Bat is. He's about as prepossessin' to look at as an old gumboot, but his heart's all there--an' you bet, Bat, he knows."

  It was within a quarter of a mile of Antelope Butte that the Texan,riding along the bottom of a wide coulee met another horseman. Thistime there was no spurring toward him, and he noticed that the man'shand rested near his right hip. He shifted his own gun arm andcontinued on his course without apparently noticing the other whoapproached in the same manner.

  Suddenly he laughed: "Hello, Curt!"

  "Well, I'm damned if it ain't Tex! Thought maybe I was going to getthe high-sign."

  "Same here." Both men relaxed from their attitude of alertness, andCurt leaned closer.

  "They ain't dug him up yet," he said, "but they sure are slingin'gravel. I hope to God they don't."

  "They won't."

  "Anything I can do?"

  The Texan shook his head: "Nothin', thanks."

  "Hot as hell fer June, ain't it."

  "Yes; who you ridin' for?"

  "K 2."

  "K 2! Mister Kester moved his outfit over to the south slope?"

  "Naw. I'm huntin' a couple of old brood mares Mister Kester boughtoffen the Bar A. They strayed away about a week ago."

  "Alone?"

  "Might better be," replied the cowboy in tones of disgust. "I've gotthat damned fool, Joe Ainslee, along--or ruther I had him. BobBrumley's foreman of the K 2, now, an' he hired the Wind Bag in amoment of mental abortion, as the fellow says, an' he don't dast firehim for fear he'll starve to death. They wouldn't no other outfit havehim around. An' I'm thinkin' he'll be damn lucky if he lives longenough to starve to death. Bob sent him along with me--said he'd doless harm than with the round-up, an' would be safer--me bein' amiableenough not to kill him offhand."

  "Ain't you found your mares?"

  Curt snorted: "Yes. Found 'em couple hours ago. An' now I've lost theWind Bag. Them mares was grazin' right plumb in plain sight of whereI'd sent him circlin', an' doggone if he not only couldn't find 'em,but he's lost hisself. An' if he don't show up pretty damn _pronto_ hekin stay lost--an' the K 2 will win, at that."

  The Texan grinned: "Go get your mares, Curt. The short-horn hasstampeded. I shouldn't wonder if he's a-foggin' it through themountains right now to get himself plumb famous for tippin' off thedistrict attorney where to do his minin'."

  "You seen him!"

  "Yes, we had quite a little pow-wow."

  "You sure didn't let him git holt of nothin'!"

  "Yes. He's about to bust with the information he gathered. An' say,he might of seen them mares an' passed 'em up. He ain't huntin' nobrood mares, he's after twenty head of young saddle stock--forgot tomention there was any one with him. Said it was easy to runthree-year-olds off their own range single handed if you savviedhorses. Called Mister Kester 'Old Pete' an' told of an orgy they hadmutual in the Long Horn."

  Curt burst out laughing: "Can you beat it?"

  "I suppose they'll have Red Rock Coulee all mussed up," reflected theTexan, with a grin.

  "You wait 'til I tell the boys."

  "Don't you. They'd hurt him. He's a-whirlin' a bigger loop than hecan throw, the way it is."

  Curt fumbled in his slicker and produced a flask which he tendered.

  Tex shook his head: "No thanks, I ain't drinkin'."

  "You ain't _what_?"

  "No, I'm off of it"; he dismounted and tightened his cinch, and theother followed his example.

  "Off of it! You ain't sick, or nothin'?"

  "No. Can't a man----?"

  "Oh, sure, he could, but he wouldn't, onless--you got your camp nearhere?"

  Tex was aware the other was eyeing him closely.

  "Tolerable."

  "Let's go camp then. I left my pack horse hobbled way up on LastWater."

  The Texan was thinking rapidly. Curt was a friend of long standing anddesired to share his camp, which is the way of the cow country. Yet,manifestly this was impossible. There was only one way out and thatwas to give offence.

  "No. I'm campin' alone these days."

  A slow red mounted to the other's face and his voice sounded a triflehard: "Come on up to mine, then. It ain't so far."

  "I said I was campin' alone."

  The red was very apparent now, and the other took a step forward, andhis words came slowly:

  "Peck Maguire told me, an' I shut his dirty mouth for him. But now Iknow it's true. You're ridin' with the pilgrim's girl."

  At the inference the Texan whitened to the eyes. "_You're a damnedliar_!" The words came evenly but with a peculiar venom.

  Curt half drew his gun. Then jammed it back in the holster. "Notbetween friends," he said shortly, "but jest the same you're goin' toeat them words. It ain't a trick I'd think of you--to run off with aman's woman after killin' him. If he was alive it would be different.I'd ort to shoot it out with you, I suppose, but I can't quite forgetthat time in Zortman when you----"

  "Don't let that bother you," broke in
the Texan with the same evennessof tone. "_You're a damned liar_!"

  With a bound the man was upon him and Tex saw a blinding flash oflight, and the next moment he was scrambling from the ground. Afterthat the fight waxed fast and furious, each man giving and receivingblows that landed with a force that jarred and rocked. Then, the Texanlanded heavily upon the point of his opponent's chin and the lattersank limp to the floor of the coulee. For a full minute Tex stoodlooking down at his victim.

  "Curt can scrap like the devil. I'm sure glad he didn't force no gunplay, I'd have hated to hurt him." He recovered the flask from theground where the other had dropped it, and forced some whiskey betweenhis lips. Presently the man opened his eyes.

  "Feelin' better?" asked the Texan as Curt blinked up at him.

  "Um-hum. My head aches some."

  "Mine, too."

  "You got a couple of black eyes, an' your lip is swol up."

  "One of yours is turnin' black."

  Curt regained his feet and walked slowly toward his horse. "Well, I'llbe goin'. So long."

  "So long," answered the Texan. He, too, swung into the saddle and eachrode upon his way.