VIII
ONE KILLED
The newcomers' talk, as they crouched busily over their horses' feet,was on random themes: Dan Rice, John Owens, Adelina and Carlotta Patti,the comparative merits of Victor's and Moreau's restaur'--hah! Greenleafsnatched up his light cane, sprang erect, and gazed close into the mildeyes of Maxime. Gibbs's more wanton regard had no such encounter; Hilarygave him a mere upward glance while his hands continued their task.
"Good-evening," remarked Gibbs.
"Good-morning," chirped Hilary, and scrubbed on. "Do you happen to beMr. Samuel Gibbs?--Don't stop, Fred, Maxime won't object to your workingon."
"Yes, he will!" swore Gibbs, "and so will I!"
Still Hilary scrubbed: "Why so, Mr. Gibbs?"
"Bic-ause," put in Maxime, "he's got to go back through the same mud hecame!"
"Why, then," laughed Hilary, "I may as well knock off, too," and beganto wash his hands.
"No," growled Gibbs, "you'll ride on; we're not here for you."
"You can't have either of us without the other, Mr. Gibbs," playfullyremarked Kincaid. The bull-drivers loomed out of the fog. Hilaryleisurely rose and moved to draw a handkerchief.
"None o' that!" cried Gibbs, whipping his repeater into Kincaid's face.Yet the handkerchief came forth, its owner smiling playfully and dryinghis fingers while Mr. Gibbs went on blasphemously to declare himself"no chicken."
"Oh, no," laughed Hilary, "none of us is quite that. But did you everreally study--_boxing?_" At the last word Gibbs reeled under a blow inthe face; his revolver, going off harmlessly, was snatched from him,Maxime's derringer missed also, and Gibbs swayed, bleeding andsightless, from Hilary's blows with the butt of the revolver. Presentlydown he lurched insensible, Hilary going half-way with him butrecovering and turning to the aid of his friend. Maxime tore loose fromhis opponent, beseeching the bull-drivers to attack, but beseeching invain. Squawking and chattering like parrot and monkey, they spurredforward, whirled back, gathered lassos, cursed frantically as Sam fell,sped off into the fog, spurred back again, and now reined their poniesto their haunches, while Kincaid halted Maxime with Gibbs's revolver,and Greenleaf sprang to the bits of his own and Hilary's terrifiedhorses. For two other men, the Gascon and the Italian, had glided intothe scene from the willows, and the Gascon was showing Greenleaf two bigknives, one of which he fiercely begged him to accept.
"Take it, Fred!" cried Hilary while he advanced on the defiantlyretreating Maxime; but as he spoke a new cry of the drovers turned hisglance another way. Gibbs had risen to his knees unaware that theItalian, with yet another knife, was close behind him. At a bound Hilaryarrested the lifted blade and hurled its wielder aside, who in the nextbreath seemed to spring past him head first, fell prone across theprostrate Gibbs, turned face upward, and slid on and away--lassoed.Both bull-drivers clattered off up the road.
"Hang to the nags, Fred!" cried Hilary, and let Maxime leap to Gibbs'sside, but seized the Gascon as with murderous intent he sprang afterhim. It took Kincaid's strength to hold him, and Gibbs and his partnerwould have edged away, but--"Stand!" called Hilary, and they stood,Gibbs weak and dazed, yet still spouting curses. The Gascon begged invain to be allowed to follow the bull-drivers.
"Stay here!" said Hilary in French, and the butcher tarried. Hilarypassed the revolver to his friend, mounted and dashed up the highway.
The Gascon stayed with a lively purpose which the enfeebled Gibbs wasthe first to see. "Stand back, you hell-hound!" cried the latter, andwith fresh oaths bade Greenleaf "keep him off!"
Maxime put Gibbs on Greenleaf's horse (as bidden), and was about to leadhim, when Kincaid galloped back.
"Fred," exclaimed Hilary, "they've killed the poor chap." He wheeled."Come, all hands," he continued, and to Greenleaf added as they went,"He's lying up here in the road with--"
Greenleaf picked up something. "Humph!" said Hilary, receiving it,"knives by the great gross. He must have used this trying to cut thelasso; the one he had back yonder flew into the pond." He reined in:"Here's where they--Why, Fred--why, I'll swear! They've come backand--Stop! there was a skiff"--he moved to the levee and peeredover--"It's gone!"
The case was plain, and while from Greenleaf's saddle Gibbs broke intofrantic revilings of the fugitives for deserting him and Maxime to sinktheir dead in the mid-current of the fog-bound river, Kincaid and hisfriend held soft counsel. Evidently the drovers had turned their horsesloose, knowing they would go to their stable. No despatch to stopGreenleaf could be sent by anyone up the railroad till the Committee ofPublic Safety had authorized it, so Hilary would drop them a line out ofhis pocket note-book, and by daybreak these prisoners could go free.
"Mr. Gibbs"--he said as he wrote--"I have the sprout of a notion thatyou and Mr. Lafontaine would be an ornament to a field-battery I'm aboutto take command of. I'd like to talk with you about that presently." Hetore out the page he had written and beckoned the Gascon aside:
"_Mon ami_"--he showed a roll of "city money" and continued inFrench--"do you want to make a hundred dollars--fifty now and fifty whenyou bring me an answer to this?"
The man nodded and took the missive.
The old "Jackson Railroad" avoided Carrollton and touched the river fora moment only, a short way beyond, at a small bunch of flimsy clapboardhouses called Kennerville. Here was the first stop of its early morningoutbound train, and here a dozen or so passengers always poked theirheads out of the windows. This morning they saw an oldish black man stepoff, doff his hat delightedly to two young men waiting at the platform'sedge, pass them a ticket, and move across to a pair of saddled horses.The smaller of the pair stepped upon the last coach, but kept hiscompanion's hand till the train had again started.
"Good-by, Tony," cried the one left behind.
"Good-by, Jake," called the other, and waved. His friend watched thetrain vanish into the forest. Then, as his horse was brought, he mountedand moved back toward the city.
Presently the negro, on the other horse, came up almost abreast of him."Mahs' Hil'ry?" he ventured.
"Well, uncle Jerry?"
"Dat's a pow'ful good-lookin' suit o' clo'es what L'tenant Greenfeel gotawn."
"Jerry! you cut me to the heart!"
The negro tittered: "Oh, as to dat, I don't 'spute but yone is betteh."
The master heaved a comforted sigh. The servant tittered again, butsuddenly again was grave. "I on'y wish to Gawd," he slowly said, "dat denext time you an' him meet--"
"Well--next time we meet--what then?"
"Dat you bofe be in de same sawt o' clo'es like you got on now."
Kincaid's Battery Page 8
