Starr, of the Desert

by B. M. Bower

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  A SHOT FROM THE PINNACLE

  "Why--did some one come with you, Mr. Starr? I thought you were alone."

  Starr turned his head and saw Helen May standing quite close, on theother side of him. She was glancing inquiringly from him to the pintopony, and she was smiling the least little bit, though her eyes had ashamed, self-conscious look. Starr eyed her keenly, a bit reproachfully,and she blushed.

  "I thought maybe you'd come around where I was," she defended herselflamely. "It--seemed cooler there--"

  "Yes, I noticed it was pretty cool, from the tone of your voice."

  "Well--oh, I was just nursing a grouch, and I couldn't stop all at once,"Helen May surrendered suddenly, sitting down beside him and crossing herfeet. "I've read in stories how sheepherders go crazy, and I know nowjust why that is. They see so few people that they don't know how to actwhen some one does come along. They get so they hate themselves andeverybody else. I had just finished abusing poor old Pat till he wentoff and sulked too."

  "I thought probably you and Pat had just had a run-in, the way he acted."Starr went back to scanning that part of the mesa where he had glimpsedthe rider. He could not afford to forget business in the pleasure oftalking aimless, trivial things with Helen May.

  "What are you looking for?"

  "Stock," said Starr, falling back on the standard excuse of therange man.

  "And _what's_ the idea of two saddle-horses and two saddles and twobridles?" Helen May's voice was as simply curious as a child's.

  "The idea is that you're going to ride instead of walk from now on. It'san outfit I got from a fellow that was leaving. He borrowed money from meand left his horse and saddle, for a kind of security. I didn't want it,but he had to leave 'em somewhere. So I thought you might as well keepthe horse and use it till he comes back, or something." Starr did verywell with this explanation; much better than he had done in explainingPat. The truth was that he had bought the horse for the express purposeof giving it to Helen May; just as he had bought the dog.

  Helen May studied his face while he studied the distant plain. Shethought he acted as though he didn't care much whether she kept thehorse or not, and for that reason, and because his explanation hadsounded like truth, she hesitated over refusing the offer, though shefelt that she ought to refuse.

  "It ain't right for you to be out here afoot," said Starr, as though hehad read her thoughts. "It's bad enough for you to be here at all. Whatever possessed you to do such a crazy thing, anyhow?"

  "Well, sometimes people can't choose. Dad got the notion first. Andthen--when he died--Vic and I just went ahead with it."

  "Did he know anything about this country? Did he know--what chances you'dbe taking?" Starr was trying to choose his words so that they wouldimpress her without alarming her. It angered him to have to worry overthe girl's welfare and to keep that worry to himself.

  "What chances, for gracious sake? I never saw such a mild, perfectlymonotonous life. Why, there are more chances in Los Angeles every time aperson goes down town. It's deadly dull here, and it's too lonesome forwords, and I hate it. But as for taking chances--" Her voice was franklycontemptuous of the idea.

  "Chances of going broke. It takes experience--"

  "Oh, as to that, it's partly a matter of health," said Helen Maylightly. "I have to live where the climate--"

  "You could live in Albuquerque, or some other live town; close to it,anyway. You don't have to stick away down here, where--"

  "I don't see as it matters. So long as it isn't Los Angeles, no placeappeals to me. And dad had bought the improvements here, so--"

  "I'll pay you for the improvements, if that's all," Starr said shortly.

  Helen May laughed. "That sounds exactly as though you want to get me outof the country," she challenged.

  Starr did not rise to the bait. He took another long look for thehorseman, saw not so much as a flurry of dust, and slid the glasses intotheir case.

  "I brought out that carbine I was speaking about. And the shells that gowith it. I'm kind of a gun fiend, I guess. I'm always accumulating a lotof shooting irons I never use. I run across a six-shooter and belt, too.Come here, Rabbit!"

  Rabbit came, and Starr untied the weapons, smiling boyishly. "You may aswell be using 'em; they'll only rust, kicking around in the shack. Bucklethis around you. I punched another hole or two, so the belt would comewithin a mile or so of fitting. You want to wear that every time you goout on the range. The time you leave it home is the very time when you'llsee a coyote or something.

  "And if you expect to get rich in the goat business, you never want topass up a coyote. There's a bounty on 'em, for one thing, because they dolots of damage among sheep and goats. And for another," he addedimpressively, "the rabies that's been epidemic on the Coast is spreading.You've maybe read about it. A rabid coyote would come right at you, andyou know the consequences. Or it would bite Pat, and then Pat wouldtackle you."

  "Oh!" Helen May had turned a sickly shade. Her eyes went anxiously overthe slope as though she half expected something of the sort to happenthen and there.

  "That's why," said Starr solemnly, looking down into her face, "I'm kindaworried about you ranging around afoot and without a gun--"

  "But nobody else has even mentioned--"

  "Everybody else goes prepared, and they're inclined to take chances as amatter of course. I reckon they think you know all about rabies being inthe country. This has always been a scrappy kinda place, remember, andfolks are used to packing guns and using 'em when the case demands it.You wear this six-gun, lady, and keep your eyes open from now on. I'vegot another one for Vic; an automatic. Now we'll go down here in theshade and practice shooting. I brought plenty of shells, and I want tolearn you how to handle a gun."

  Silently she followed him down the slope on the side toward the Basin. Hestopped beside the pinto, took it by the bridle-reins and, whipping outhis gun, fired it once to test the horse. The pinto twitched its ears atthe sound and looked at Starr. Starr laughed.

  "I'll learn you to shoot from horseback," he called back to Helen May."He's broke to it, I can see now."

  "Oh, I wonder if I could! Don't tell Vic, will you? I'd like to takehim by surprise. Boys are so conceited and self-sufficient! You'dthink Vic was my grandfather, the way he lords it over me. First ofall, what is the right way to get on a horse? I wish you'd teach meabout riding, too."

  This sort of instruction grew absorbing to both. Before either guessedhow the time had flown, the sun stood straight overhead; and Pat,standing in front of her with an expectant look in his eyes and anoccasional wag of his stubby tail, reminded Helen May that it was timefor lunch. They had used almost a full box of shells, and Helen May hadsucceeded in shooting from the back of the pinto and in hitting a certainsmall hummock of pure sand twice in six shots. She was tremendouslyproud of the feat, and she took no pains to conceal her pride. She wantedto start in on another box of shells, but Pat's eyes were so reproachful,and her sense of hospitality was so urgent that she decided to wait untilthey had eaten the lunch she had brought with her.

  The rocks which had cast a shadow were now baking in the glare, and thesand where Helen May and Starr had sat was radiating heat waves. Starrtook another long look down toward Medina's ranch through his fieldglasses, while Helen May went to find a comfortable bit of shade.

  "If you'll come over this way, Mr. Starr," she called abruptly, "I'llgive you a sandwich. It's hot everywhere to-day, but this is a littlebetter than out in the sun."

  Starr took the glasses down from his eyes and let them dangle by theircord while he walked over the nose of the ridge to where she waswaiting for him.

  Half-way there, a streak of fire seemed to sear his arm near hisshoulder. Starr knew the feeling well enough. He staggered and wentdown headlong in a clump of greasewood, and at the same instant thereport of a rifle came clearly from the high pinnacle at the head ofSunlight Basin.

  Helen May came running, her face white with horro
r, for she had seenStarr fall just as the sound of the shot came to tell her why. She didnot cry out, but she rushed to where he lay half concealed in the bushes.When she came near him, she stopped short. For Starr was lying on hisstomach with his head up and elbows in the sand, steadying the glasses tohis eyes that he might search that pinnacle.

  "W-what made you fall down like that?" Helen May cried exasperatedly."I--I thought you were shot!"

  "I am, to a certain extent," Starr told her unconcernedly. "Kneel downhere beside me and act scared, will you? And in a minute I want you toclimb on the pinto and ride around behind them rocks and wait for me.Take Rabbit with you. Act like you was going for help, or was scaredand running away from a corpse. You get me? I'll crawl over there aftera little."

  "W-why? Are you hurt so you can't walk?"

  Helen May did not have to act; she was scared quite enough forStarr's purpose.

  "Oh, I could walk, but walking ain't healthy right now. Jump up now andclimb your horse like you was expecting to ride him down to a whisper. Goon--beat it. And when you get outa sight of the pinnacle, stay outasight. Run!"

  There were several questions which Helen May wanted to ask, but she onlygave him a hasty, imploring glance which Starr did not see at all, sincehis eyes were focussed on the pinnacle. She ran to the pinto and scaredhim so that he jumped away from her. Starr heard and glanced impatientlyback at her. He saw that she had managed to get the reins and wasmounting with all the haste and all the awkwardness he could possiblyexpect of her, and he grinned and returned to his scrutiny of the peak.

  Whatever he saw he kept to himself; but presently he began to wrigglebackward, keeping the greasewood clump, and afterwards certain rocks andlittle ridges, between himself and a view of the point he had fixed uponas the spot where the shooter had stood.

  When he had rounded the first rock ledge he got up and looked for HelenMay, and found her standing a couple of rods off, watching him anxiously.He smiled reassuringly at her while he dusted his trousers with the flatof his hands.

  "Fine and dandy," he said. "Whoever took a pot-shot at me thinks he gotme first crack. See? Now listen, lady. That maybe was some herder outgunning for coyotes, and maybe he was gunning for me. I licked a herderthat ranges over that way, and he maybe thought he'd play even. Butanyway, don't say anything about it to anybody, will you. I kinda--"

  "Why not? If he shot at you, he wanted to kill you. And that's murder; heought to be--"

  "Now, you know you said yourself that herders go crazy. I don't want toget the poor boob into trouble. Let's not say anything about it. I've gotto go now; I've stayed longer than I meant to, as it is. Have Vic putthat halter that's on the saddle on the pinto, and tie the rope to it andlet it drag. He won't go away, and you can catch him without any bother.If Vic don't know how to set the saddle, you take notice just how it'sfixed when you take it off. I meant to show you how, but I can't stopnow. And don't go anywhere, not even to the mail box, without Pat or yoursix-gun, or both. Come here, Rabbit, you old scoundrel!

  "I wish I could stay," he added, swinging up to the saddle and lookingdown at her anxiously. "Don't let Vic monkey with that automatic till Icome and show him how to use it. I--"

  "You said you were shot," said Helen May, staring at him enigmaticallyfrom under her lashes. "Are you?"

  "Not much; burnt a streak on my arm, nothing to bother about. Nowremember and don't leave your gun--"

  "I don't believe it was because you licked a herder. What made somebodyshoot at you? Was it--on account of Pat?"

  "Pat? No, I don't see what the dog would have to do with it. It was somehalf-baked herder, shooting maybe because he heard us shoot and thoughtwe was using him for a target. You can't," Starr declared firmly, "tellwhat fool idea they'll get into their heads. It was our shooting, mostlikely. Now I must go. Adios, I'll see yuh before long."

  "Well, but what--"

  Helen May found herself speaking to the scenery. Starr was gone withRabbit at a sliding trot down the slope that kept the ridge between himand the pinnacle. She stood staring after him blankly, her hat askew onthe back of her head, and her lips parted in futile astonishment. She didnot in the least realize just what Starr's extreme caution had meant. Shehad no inkling of the real gravity of the situation, for her ignorance ofthe lawless possibilities of that big, bare country insulated her againstunderstanding.

  What struck her most forcibly was the cool manner in which he had orderedher to act a part, and the unhesitating manner in which she had obeyedhim. He ordered her about, she thought, as though he had a right; and sheobeyed as though she recognized that right.

  She watched him as long as he was in sight, and tried to guess where hewas going and what he meant to do, and what was his business--what he didfor a living. He must be a rancher, since he had said he was looking forstock; but it was queer he had never told her where his ranch lay, or howfar off it was, or anything about it.

  After a little it occurred to her that Starr would want the man who hadshot at him to think she had left that neighborhood, so she called toPat and had him drive the goats around where they could not be seen fromthe pinnacle.

  Then she sat down and ate her sandwiches thoughtfully, with long,meditative intervals between bites. She regarded the pinto curiously,wondering if Starr had really taken him as security for a debt, andwishing that she had asked him what its name was. It was queer, the wayhe rode up unexpectedly every few days, always bringing something hethought she needed, and seeming to take it for granted that she wouldaccept everything he offered. It was much queerer that she did accepteverything without argument or hesitation. For that matter, everythingthat concerned Starr was queer, from Helen May's point of view.