Cow-Country

by B. M. Bower

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN: WHILE THE GOING'S GOOD

  At supper Bud noticed that Marian, standing at his right side, set downhis cup of coffee with her right hand, and at the same instant he felther left hand fumble in his pocket and then touch his elbow. She wenton, and Bud in his haste to get outside drank his coffee so hot that itscalded his mouth. Jerry rose up and stepped backward over the bench asBud passed him, and went out at his heels.

  "Go play the piano for half an hour and then meet me where you got themmushrooms. And when you quit playing, duck quick. Tell Honey you'll beback in a minute. Have her hunt for music for yuh while you're out--orsomething like that. Don't let on."

  Bud might have questioned Jerry, but that cautious young man was alreadyturning back to call something--to Dave, so Bud went around the corner,glancing into the pantry window as he passed. Marian was not in sight,nor was Honey at the moment when he stood beside the step of thepost-office.

  Boldness carries its own talisman against danger. Bud went in--withoutslamming the door behind him, you may be sure--and drew his smallnotebook from his inside pocket. With that to consult frequently, he satdown by the window where the failing light was strongest, and proceededto jot down imaginary figures on the paper he pulled from his coatpocket and unfolded as if it were of no value whatever to him. The pianoplaying ordered by Jerry could wait.

  What Marian had to say on this occasion could not be written upon acigarette paper. In effect her note was a preface to Jerry's commands.Bud saw where she had written words and erased them so thoroughly thatthe cheap paper was almost worn through. She had been afraid, poor lady,but her fear could not prevent the writing.

  "You must leave to-night for Crater and cash the checks given you to paythe bets. Go to Crater. If you don't know the way, keep due north afteryou have crossed Gold Gap. There's the stage road, but they'll watchthat, I'm afraid. They mean to stop payment on the checks. Butfirst they will kill you if they can. They say you cheated with thatthoroughbred horse. They took their losses so calmly--I knew that theymeant to rob you. To show you how I know, it was Lew you shot on theridge that night. His rheumatism was caused by your bullet that nickedhis shoulder. So you see what sort we are--go. Don't wait--go now."

  Bud looked up, and there was Honey leaning over the counter, smiling athim.

  "Well, how much is it?" she teased when she saw he had discovered her.

  Bud drew a line across the note and added imaginary columns of figures,his hat-brim hiding his face.

  "Over eleven thousand dollars," he announced, and twisted the paperin his fingers while he went over to her. "Almost enough to starthousekeeping!"

  Honey blushed and leaned to look for something which she pretended tohave dropped and Bud seized the opportunity to tuck the paper out ofsight. "I feel pretty much intoxicated to-night, Honey," he said. "Ithink I need soothing, or something--and you know what music does to thesavage breast. Let 's play."

  "All right. You've been staying away lately till I thought you weremad," Honey assented rather eagerly, and opened the little gate in thehalf partition just as Bud was vaulting the counter, which gave hera great laugh and a chance for playful scuffling. Bud kissed her andimmediately regretted the caress.

  Jerry had told him to play the piano, but Bud took his mandolin andplayed that while Honey thumped out chords for him. As he had halfexpected, most of the men strayed in and perched here and therelistening just as if there had not been a most unusual horserace todiscuss before they slept. Indeed, Bud had never seen the Little Lostboys so thoughtful, and this silence struck him all at once as somethingsinister, like a beast of prey stalking its kill.

  Two waltzes he played--and then, in the middle of a favorite two-step,a mandolin string snapped with a sharp twang, and Bud came as close toswearing as a well-behaved young man may come in the presence of a lady.

  "Now I'll have to go get a new E string," he complained. "You play theDanube for the boys--the way I taught you--while I get this fixed. I'vean extra string down in the bunk-house; it won't take five minutes toget it." He laid the mandolin down on his chair, bolted out through thescreen door which he slammed after him to let Jerry know that he wascoming, and walked halfway to the bunk-house before he veered off aroundthe corner of the machine shed and ran.

  Jerry was waiting by the old shed, and without a word he led Bud behindit where Sunfish was standing saddled and bridled.

  "You got to go, Bud, while the going's good. I'd go with yuh if Idared," Jerry mumbled guardedly. "You hit for Crater, Bud, and put thatmoney in the bank. You can cut into the stage road where it crossesOldman Creek, if you go straight up the race track to the far end, andfollow the trail from there. You can't miss it--there ain't but one wayto go. I got yuh this horse because he's worth more'n what the other twoare, and he's faster. And Bud, if anybody rides up on yuh, shoot. Don'tmonkey around about it. And you RIDE!"

  "All right," Bud muttered. "But I'll have to go down in the pastureand get my money, first. I've got my own private bank down there, and Ihaven't enough in my pockets to play penny ante more than one round."

  "Hell!" Jerry's hand lifted to Bud's shoulder and gripped it for aminute. "That's right on the road to the Sinks, man!" He stood bitinghis lips, thinking deeply, turning his head now and then as littlesounds came from the house: the waltz Honey was playing, the post-officedoor slamming shut.

  "You tell me where that money's cached, Bud, and I'll go after it. Iguess you'll have to trust me--I sure wouldn't let yuh go down to thepasture yourself right now. Where is it?"

  "Look under that flat rock right by the gate post, where the top barshit the ground. It's wrapped up in a handkerchief, so just bringthe package. It's been easy to tuck things under the rock when I wasputting up the bars. I'll wait here."

  "Good enough--I'd sure have felt easier if I'd known you wasn't carryingall that money." Whereupon Jerry disappeared, and his going made nosound.

  Bud stood beside Sunfish, wondering if he had been a fool to trustJerry. By his own admission Jerry was living without the law, and thismight easily be a smooth scheme of robbery. He turned and strained hiseyes into the dusk, listening, trying to hear some sound that wouldshow which way Jerry had gone. He was on the point of followinghim--suspicion getting the better of his faith--when Sunfish moved hishead abruptly to one side, bumping Bud's head with his cheek. At thesame instant a hand touched Bud's arm.

  "I saw you from the kitchen window," Marian whispered tensely. "I wasafraid you hadn't read my note, or perhaps wouldn't pay any attention toit. I heard you and Jerry--of course he won't dare go with you and showyou the short-cut, even if he knows it. There's a quicker way thanup the creek-bed. I have Boise out in the bushes, and a saddle. I wasafraid to wait at the barn long enough to saddle him. You go--he'sbehind that great pile of rocks, back of the corrals. I'll wait forJerry." She gave him a push, and Bud was so astonished that he made noreply whatever, but did exactly as she had told him to do.

  Boise was standing behind the peaked outcropping of rock, and besidehim was a stock-saddle which must have taxed Marian's strength to carry.Indeed, Bud thought she must have had wings, to do so much in so short aspace of time; though when he came to estimate that time he decided thathe must have been away from the house ten minutes, at least. If Marianfollowed him closely enough to see him duck behind the machine shed andmeet Jerry, she could run behind the corral and get Boise out by way ofthe back door of the stable. There was a path, screened from the corralby a fringe of brush, which went that way. The truth flashed upon himthat one could ride unseen all around Little Lost.

  He was just dropping the stirrup down from the saddle horn when Marianappeared with Jerry and Sunfish close behind her. Jerry held out thepackage.

  "She says she'll show you a short cut," he whispered. "She says I don'tknow anything about it. I guess she's right--there's a lot I don't know.Lew 's gone, and she says she'll be back before daylight. If they missBoise they'll think you stole him. But they won't look. Dave wouldn'tslam around in t
he night on Boise--he thinks too much of him. Well--beatit, and I sure wish yuh luck. You be careful, Marian. Come back thisway, and if you see a man's handkerchief hanging on this bush right herewhere I'm standing, it'll mean you've been missed."

  "Thank you, Jerry," Marian whispered. "I'll look for it. Come, Bud--keepclose behind me, and don't make any noise."

  Bud would have protested, but Marian did not give him a chance. Shetook up the reins, grasped the saddle horn, stuck her slipper toe inthe stirrup and mounted Boise as quickly as Bud could have done it--aseasily, too, making allowance for the difference in their height. Budmounted Sunfish and followed her down the trail which led to the racetrack; but when they had gone through the brush and could see starlightbeyond, she turned sharply to the left, let Boise pick his way carefullyover a rocky stretch and plunged into the brush again, leaning low inthe saddle so that the higher branches would not claw at her hair andface.

  When they had once more come into open ground with a shoulder of CatrockPeak before them, Marian pulled up long enough to untie her apron andbind it over her hair like a peasant woman. She glanced back at Bud,and although darkness hid the expression on her face, he saw her eyesshining in the starlight. She raised her hand and beckoned, and Budreined Sunfish close alongside.

  "We're going into a spooky place now," she leaned toward him to whisper."Boise knows the way, and your horse will follow."

  "All right," Bud whispered back. "But you'd better tell me the way andlet me go on alone. I'm pretty good at scouting out new trails. I don'twant you to get in trouble--"

  She would not listen to more of that, but pushed him back with the flatof her bare hand and rode ahead of him again. Straight at the sheerbluff, that lifted its huge, rocky shape before them, she led the way.So far as Bud could see she was not following any trail; but was aimingat a certain point and was sure enough of the ground to avoid detours.

  They came out upon the bank of the dry river-bed. Bud knew it by theflatness of the foreground and the general contour of the mountainsbeyond. But immediately they turned at a sharp angle, travelled for afew minutes with the river-bed at their backs, and entered a narrow slitin the mountains where two peaks had been rent asunder in some titanicupheaval when the world was young. The horses scrambled along the rockybottom for a little way, then Boise disappeared.

  Sunfish halted, threw his head this way and that, gave a suspicioussniff and turned carefully around the corner of a square-faced boulder.In front was blackness. Bud urged him a little with rein and softpressure of the spurs, and Sunfish stepped forward. He seemed reassuredto find firm, smooth sand under his feet, and hurried a little untilBoise was just ahead clicking his feet now and then against a rock.

  "Coming?" Marian's voice sounded subdued, muffled by the close walls ofthe tunnel-like crevice.

  "Coming," Bud assured her quietly "At your heels."

  "I always used to feel spooky when I was riding through here," Mariansaid, dropping back so that they rode side by side, stirrups touching."I was ten when I first made the trip. It was to get away from Indians.They wouldn't come into these places. Eddie and I found the way through.We were afraid they were after us, and so we kept going, and our horsesbrought us out. Eddie--is my brother."

  "You grew up here?" Bud did not know how much incredulity was in hisvoice. "I was raised amongst the Indians in Wyoming. I thought you werefrom the East."

  "I was in Chicago for three years," Marian explained. "I studied everywaking minute, I think. I wanted to be a singer. Then--I came home tohelp bury mother. Father--Lew and father were partners, and I--marriedLew. I didn't know--it seemed as though I must. Father put it that way.The old story, Bud. I used to laugh at it in novels, but it does happen.Lew had a hold over father and Eddie, and he wanted me. I married him,but it did no good, for father was killed just a little more than amonth afterwards. We had a ranch, up here in the Redwater Valley, abouthalfway to Crater. But it went--Lew gambled and drank and--so he took meto Little Lost. I've been there for two years."

  The words of pity--and more--that crowded forward for utterance, Budknew he must not speak. So he said nothing at all.

  "Lew has always held Eddie over my head," she went on pouring out hertroubles to him. "There's a gang, called the Catrock Gang, and Lew isone of them. I told you Lew is the man you shot. I think Dave Trumanis in with them--at any rate he shuts his eyes to whatever goes on,and gets part of the stealings, I feel sure. That's why Lew is such afavorite. You see, Eddie is one--I'm trusting you with my life, almost,when I tell you this.

  "But I couldn't stand by and not lift a hand to save you. I knew theywould kill you. They'd have to, because I felt that you would fight andnever give up. And you are too fine a man for those beasts to murder forthe money you have. I knew, the minute I saw Jeff paying you his losingswith a check, and some of the others doing the same, just what wouldhappen. Jeff is almost as bad as the Catrockers, except that he is toocowardly to come out into the open. He gave you a check; and everyonewho was there knew he would hurry up to Crater and stop payment on it,if he could do it and keep out of your sight. Those cronies of his woulddo the same--so they paid with checks.

  "And the Catrock gang knew that. They mean to get hold of you, roband-and-kill you, and forge the endorsement on the checks and let oneman cash them in Crater before payment can be stopped. Indeed, the gangwill see to it that Jeff stays away from Crater. Lew hinted that whilethey were about it they might as well clean out the bank. It wouldn't bethe first time," she added bitterly.

  She stopped then and asked for a match, and when Bud gave her one shelighted a candle and held it up so that she could examine the walls."It's a natural tunnel," she volunteered in a different tone. "Somewherealong here there is a branch that goes back into the hill and ends in ablow-hole. But we're all right so far."

  She blew out the candle and urged Boise forward, edging over to theright.

  "Wasn't that taking quite a chance, making a light?" Bud asked as theywent on.

  "It was, but not so great a chance as missing the way. Jerry didn't hearanything of them when he went to the pasture gate, and they may not comethrough this way at all. They may not realize at first that you haveleft, and even when they did they would not believe at first that youhad gone to Crater. You see"--and in the darkness Bud could picture hertroubled smile--"they think you are an awful fool, in some ways. Theway you bet to-day was pure madness."

  "It would have been, except that I knew I could win."

  "They never bet like that. They always 'figure', as they call it, thatthe other fellow is going to play some trick on them. Half the time Jeffbets against his own horse, on the sly. They all do, unless they feelsure that their own trick is best."

  "They should have done that to-day," Bud observed dryly. "But you'veexplained it. They thought I'm an awful fool."

  Out of the darkness came Marian's voice. "It's because you're sodifferent. They can't understand you."

  Bud was not interested in his own foolishness just then. Something inher voice had thrilled him anew with a desire to help her and with theconviction that he was desperately in need of help. There was a patheticpatience in her tone when she summarized he whole affair in those lasttwo sentences. It was as if she were telling him how her whole lifewas darkened because she herself was different--because they could notunderstand a woman so fine, so true and sweet.

  "What will happen if you are missed? If you go back and discover Jerry'shandkerchief on that bush, what will you do? You can't go back if theyfind out--" There was no need for him to finish that sentence.

  "I don't know," said Marian, "what I shall do. I hadn't thought muchabout it."

  "I haven't thought much about anything else," Bud told herstraightforwardly. "If Jerry flags you, you 'd better keep going.Couldn't you go to friends?"

  "I could--if I had any. Bud, you don't understand. Eddie is the onlyrelative I have on earth, that I know at all. He is--he's with theCatrockers and Lew dominates him completely. Lew has pushed Ed intodo
ing things so that I must shield both or neither. And Eddie's just aboy. So I've no one at all."

  Bud studied this while they rode on through the defile that was morefrequently a tunnel, since the succession of caves always had an outletwhich Marian found. She had stopped now and dismounted, and they wereleading their horses down a steep, scrambling place with the starsshowing overhead.

  "A blowhole," Marian informed him briefly. "We'll come into anothercave, soon, and while it's safe if you know it, I'll explain now thatyou must walk ahead of your horse and keep your right hand always intouch with the wall until we see the stars again. There's a ledge-fivefeet wide in the narrowest place, if you are nervous about ledges--andif you should get off that you'd have a drop of ten feet or so. We foundthat the ledge makes easier travelling, because the bottom is full ofrocks and nasty depressions that are noticeable only with lights."

  She started off again, and Bud followed her, his gloved fingers touchingthe right wall, his soul humbled before the greatness of this littlewoman with the deep, troubled eyes. When they came out into thestarlight she stopped and listened for what seemed to Bud a very longtime.

  "If they are coming, they are a long way behind us," she saidrelievedly, and remounted. "Boise knows his trail and has madegood time. And your horse has proven beyond all doubt that he's athoroughbred. I've seen horses balk at going where we have gone."

  "And I've seen men who counted themselves brave as any, who wouldn't dowhat you are doing to-night; Jerry, for instance. I wish you'd go back.I can't bear having you take this risk."

  "I can't go back, Bud. Not if they find I've gone." Then he heard herlaugh quietly. "I can't imagine now why I stayed and endured it all thiswhile. I think I only needed the psychological moment for rebellion, andto-night the moment came. So you see you have really done me a serviceby getting into this scrape. It's the first time I have been off theranch in a year."

  "If you call that doing you a service, I'm going to ask you to let medo something also for you." Bud half smiled to himself in the darkness,thinking how diplomatic he was. "If you're found out, you'll have tokeep on going, and I take it you wouldn't be particular where you went.So I wish you 'd take charge of part of this money for me, and if youleave, go down to my mother, on the Tomahawk ranch, out from Laramie.Anyone can tell you where it is, when you get down that way If you needany money use it. And tell mother I sent her the finest cook in thecountry. Mother, by the way, is a great musician, Marian. She taughtme all I know of music. You'd get along just fine with mother. And sheneeds you, honest. She isn't very strong, yet she can't find anyone tosuit, down there--"

  "I might not suit, either," said Marian, her voice somewhat muffled.

  "Oh, I'm not afraid of that. And--there's a message I want to send--Ipromised mother I'd--"

  "Oh, hush! You're really an awfully poor prevaricator, Bud. This is tohelp me, you're planning."

  "Well--it's to help me that I want you to take part of the money. Thegang won't hold you up, will they? And I want mother to have it. I wanther to have you, too,--to help out when company comes drifting in there,sometimes fifteen or twenty strong. Especially on Sunday. Mother has towait on them and cook for them, and--as long as you are going to cookfor a bunch, you may as well do it where it will be appreciated, andwhere you'll be treated like a--like a lady ought to be treated."

  "You're even worse--" began Marian, laughing softly, and stoppedabruptly, listening, her head turned behind them. "Sh-sh-someone iscoming behind us," she whispered. "We're almost through--come on, anddon't talk!"