CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
THE FRIAR GOES ALONE
The Friar had been in earnest tryin' to get to Olaf; so 'at the fourSimpson boys had finally been forced to throw, an' sit on him. As soonas it was over, they got up and apologized, offerin' to let him takeout any spite on 'em he saw fit, and promisin' not to feel anyill-will; but the Friar wasn't angry. He was hurt and sad to think 'atwe'd do such a thing; but he had no resentment towards us.
"I know most of you men well," said he; "and I know you have done thisbecause you felt it was right. I don't put you on one side and myselfon the other. I take my full share o' the blame. It merely proves thatmy influence with you during the many years we have been together hasnot been for the best, and I am very sorry to learn how poor my workhas been."
He turned and went up to the house; and we all felt nearly as badabout the way he had taken it as though the confounded Greasers hadgot away altogether. We talked it over and finally loaded their bodiesinto Olaf's wagon, and hauled 'em up on the rim, where we buried 'emand heaped a lot o' stones over 'em. We began to feel better afterthis, and shook hands all around, and the Simpsons and their threefriends rode away.
Then we told the others about havin' seen the Friar's girl at TyJones's and held a council as to how we should tell him. We finallydelegated Horace to do it, though he wasn't ambitious for the job. TheFriar had told Kit that it was all over, and had left to take a walkwithout eatin' any supper. We still felt purty low-spirited, and wedidn't eat much ourselves; though we felt certain he wouldn't botherhis head much about a couple o' Greasers, as soon as he found out hisown girl was Ty Jones's woman.
The boys had come light from the Diamond Dot, but Horace had outfittedway beyond his needs, intendin' to do consid'able campin' around, andOlaf also had a couple of extra tarps and plenty o' beddin'; so wefixed up our old bunk-shack which had been left standin', and settleddown as though the interval between our previous visit hadn't beenmore 'n ten days.
The Friar came back about ten o'clock. He came into our shack as quietas he could; but Horace was sittin' before the fire waitin' for him.It was a warm night; but we had built the fire to make it a littlemore cheerful, and had left the door wide open. Horace saw the Friarthe minute he reached the doorway, and he got up and went outside withhim.
They were gone nearly an hour, and then Horace sneaked in, and wakenedme up. I follered him outside; and he said that the Friar intended toride down to see Ty Jones as soon as it was day, and that he insistedon ridin' alone. The Friar was walkin' up and down in the moonlight,his face was all twisted up, through his tryin' to hold it calm, whenI took my turn at reasonin' with him; but it wasn't any use.
"Well, you'll not go alone," I said at last; "and you can make up yourmind to that now. We don't know how much Ty already knows about ourputtin' the Greasers out o' the game, and we don't know how much of ithe'll lay to you; but we do know that he hates you, and would wipeyour name off the list the first good chance he had. I'm goin' along."
The Friar was hot; we stood there in the moonlight facin' each otherand takin' each other's measures. He was a shade taller and someheavier 'n I was; and ya could see 'at he'd have given right smart tohave felt free to mix it with me. "Do you think I'm a baby?" he burstout. "Do you think 'at I'm not fit to be trusted out o' your sight?You take entirely too much on yourself, Happy Hawkins!"
I didn't want to taunt him to hurt him--I'd rather been kicked by ahoss than to do this--but I did want to arouse him to a sense o' thetruth. "You have adjusted yourself to this locality purty well,Friar," sez I; "but the's still a lot you don't quite savvy. Somecases must be settled by a man himself, but some must be left to thelaw. If this woman is the wife o' Ty Jones, he has the law on hisside."
He turned from me and stamped off into the night with his handsclenched. He disappeared in the cottonwoods, and I was just beginnin'to wonder if I hadn't better foller him, when he came back again. "Oh,I've been a fool, I've been a fool!" he cried. "All my life I havetried not to judge others, but all my life I have judged them. I havetried to put myself in their place, but allus I judged and condemnedthem for giving way to temptations which I felt that I, in theirplace, could have resisted. I have been a fool, and I still am a fool.I admit that you are right, and I am wrong--but, I am going to TyJones's at dawn, and I'm goin' alone."
Well, that settled it--me an' the Friar had to buck each other again.He continued to stalk up an' down through moonlight and shadow; whileI tried to plan a way to head him off. I was dead sleepy, but I wentaround and wakened up all the other fellers, and told 'em not to getup in the mornin' until called; next I got Tank to help me, and wewaited until the Friar had walked in the opposite direction, and thenwe took the ponies out o' the corral and headed 'em toward the hills.The farther we got, the rougher with 'em we got, and then we turnedour own mounts loose, and sent 'em after the bunch. It was a big jobto pack our saddles back on our heads, but we did it, and tore downthe fences to pertend 'at the ponies had vamoosed on their own hook.Horace was walkin' with the Friar now, arguin' the benefit of a littlesleep, so 'at he'd be at his best. After a time the Friar did go tobed in Horace's tarp in the corner.
I didn't wake up till after seven, myself, and all the fellers werepertendin' to sleep as though it wasn't more 'n three. The Friardidn't wake up till eight. He was beside himself when he found theponies gone; but he ate breakfast as calm as he could, and then setout with us to wrangle in some hosses on foot.
Goin' after hosses on foot is sufficiently irritatin' to a ridin'outfit to make it easy enough to believe 'at this was all an accident,and we didn't come up with the ponies till nearly noon. When wecornered 'em up, I never in my life saw as much poor ropin', nor asmuch good actin'; but we finally got enough gentle ones to ridebareback, so we could wrangle in the rest; and after a quick lunch,the Friar started to make his hoss ready.
We all started along with him. He stopped and faced on us, givin' us along, cold look-over. You can say all you want to again' swearin', butthe's times when it springs out of its own accord in a man, as naturaland beautiful and satisfyin' as the flowers blossom forth on thecactus plants; and I haven't a shred of doubt that if the Friar hadhanded us some o' the remarks that came ready-framed to his tonguejust then, they'd have been well worth storin' up for future needs;but all he did was to fold his arms, and say: "Your methods are not mymethods. I am not goin' there to start trouble, and I do not even wishto give them the slightest excuse to start it of their own vo-lition.If you are my friends, you will respect my wishes."
"Well, but you'll take at least one of us along, won't ya, Friar?" sezol' Tank. "Likely as not we wouldn't take it up, nohow; but still ifthey made away with ya, we'd sort o' like to know about it as early aspossible, in order not to feel suspensed any longer 'n was necessary."
"I should like to take one man along as a guide, as I am not entirelyfamiliar with the trail from here," sez the Friar, still talkin' to usas though we were a lot of evil-lookin' strangers. "If one of you wereto go along until we came within sight o' the ranch buildin's--No,they might see him and get the idee that he had gone back to join areserve body, and I do not wish them to have the slightest grounds forresorting to force on their side. I shall have to go alone."
"I can see what you've been drivin' at, now," sez Tank, whose face wasso muddled up that no one ever tried to read his thoughts in hisfeatures, and so he could lie with impunity. "Yes, I can see what youmean, now, and I got to own up 'at you're right about it. Still, youknow, Friar, we're bound to worry about ya. How long do you want us towait before we start to projectin' around to get some news of ya?"
A look of relief came to the Friar's face: "Why, if I don't come backwithin a week," sez he, "I haven't any objections to your notifyin'the legal authorities that you fear something has happened to me--butdon't make much fuss, for it doesn't really matter."
We all kicked about waitin' a week, but finally compromised on fivedays as bein' about the right interval to allow before notifyin' thelegal autho
rities. Then we advised the Friar to go down by the ravineas it would take him to the ranch by the back way where he wouldn't beso likely to attract attention, especially from the dogs.
He asked Horace to ride with him until he could get a landmark; soHorace flung his saddle on a hoss an' started along, while the rest ofus made ready to go trout-fishin', or take a snooze, or shake thecards, accordin' to the way we generally amused ourselves whenloafin'. The Friar turned back once on the pretense that he wanted toget a good drink o' water before startin'; but he found us scatteredout peaceful an' resigned, so he headed away at good speed.
Horace took him the open road, while we went mostly through cuts, theway we had allus gone to our look-out. Our way was some the longer;but we pushed our hosses a little more, and made the look-out just asthe Friar reached the point where the path went down into the ravine.Horace had agreed to do all he could to get the Friar to go up to theclump of bushes where the woman spent her afternoons, though he saidhe doubted if the Friar would do it.
I had the field glasses with me, and kept 'em on the Friar's face whenhe paused to examine the spot and make sure he was right. He couldn'tsee the ranch buildin's from where he was, nor the path leadin' to theclump of trees. I could see his face plain through the glasses, and hehad taken the guy ropes off and let it sag into just the way he felt.It was filled with pain an' sufferin'.
As soon as Horace came, he and I sneaked down to the bunch o' bigrocks from which we could see the path as it dipped from the oppositeedge of the ravine, leavin' the rest of the boys to watch the ranchbuildin's. We could see them from where we were, and they could seeus, and we had a signal for us to come back, or them to come to us;and another that the Friar was gettin' it bad down below, and to makea rush for him. We hadn't seen any one about the buildin's, except theChinese cook. Our plan was to not rush the buildin's right away,unless we saw the Friar gettin' manhandled beyond his endurance.Horace said 'at the Friar had refused to go to the clump o' trees tosee the woman, as it might give the impression that she had sent wordto him to meet her there, and he wouldn't cast the slightest suspicionupon her name.
"Horace," I said, as an awful fear struck me, "supposin' after all, itain't the right woman!"
Horace's eyes stuck out like the tail lights on a freight caboose."Oh, I'm sure it's the same woman," sez he. "Course she's changedsome; but we couldn't all three be mistaken."
"I still think it's the same woman," sez I; "but as far as all threenot bein' mistaken, the's nothin' to that. Half o' the fellers whomake bets are mistaken, and most of us make bets. Still I think she'sthe same woman."
In spite of this doubt, I was feelin' purty comfortable. The othertime we had been there, I hadn't been able to think up any excuse asto why; but this time I felt I was in right and it left me free toenjoy the prospects of a little excitement. I allus try to be honestwith myself; and when I'm elated up over anything, I generally aim totrail back my feelin's to their exact cause. I'm bound to admit thatwhen I'm certain that any trouble likely to arise will be thrust uponme in spite of my own moral conduct, I allus take a pleasantsatisfaction in waitin' for it.
The Friar slid his hoss down the bank o' the ravine, and disappearedjust a few moments before we saw the woman comin' along the path fromthe clump of trees. We kept glancin' up at the look-out now and again,but mostly we glued our eyes on the woman. Horace hogged the fieldglasses most o' the time, but my eyes were a blame sight better 'nhis, so I didn't kick about it much.
When she reached the edge o' the ravine, she paused and gave a littlestart. "Does she know him, Horace?" I sez.
"She don't seem to," sez Horace. "She's speakin' down at him; but herface looks as though she didn't know him."
"If it's the wrong woman," sez I, "I'm goin' to start to the NorthPole to locate the fool-killer."
While I spoke, she started down the path slow and matter o' fact; andme an' Horace scuttled back to the look-out to be in time to see 'emcome out at the bottom--providin' the Friar went on with her.
We didn't get there more 'n two minutes before they came out at thebottom; but it seemed a week. When they finally came into sight, theFriar was walkin' an' leadin' his hoss, and she was walkin' at hisside about four feet from him with a big dog on each side of her. Justthen we saw six Cross-branders ride in toward the corral.
"It looks calm an' quiet," drawled ol' Tank, his free eye bouncin'about like a rubber ball; "but I'll bet two cookies again' the hole ina doughnut that we have a tol'able fair sized storm before mornin'."
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