Whispering Smith

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Whispering Smith Page 28

by Frank H. Spearman


  CHAPTER XXVII

  PURSUIT

  Brill Young picked up a trail Sunday morning at Tower W before thespecial from Medicine Bend reached there. The wrecked express car,which had been set out, had no story to tell. "The only story," saidWhispering Smith, as the men climbed into their saddles, "is in theone from the hoofs, and the sooner we get after it the better."

  The country around Tower W, which is itself an operating point on thewestern end of the division, a mere speck on the desert, lies high androlling. To the south, sixty miles away, rise the Grosse TerreMountains, and to the north and west lie the solitudes of the Heartrange, while in the northeast are seen the three white Saddle peaks ofthe Missions. The cool, bright sunshine of a far and lonely horizongreets the traveller here, and ten miles away from the railroad, inany direction, a man on horseback and unacquainted with the countrywould wish himself--mountain men will tell you--in hell, because itwould be easier to ride out of.

  To the railroad men the country offered no unusual difficulties. TheYoungs were as much at home on a horse as on a hand car. Kennedy,though a large and powerful man, was inured to hard riding, and BobScott and Whispering Smith in the saddle were merely a part--though animportant part--of their horses; without killing their mounts, theycould get out of them every mile in their legs. The five men coveredtwenty miles on a trail that read like print. One after another of therailroad party commented on the carelessness with which it had beenleft. But twenty miles south of the railroad, in an open andcomparatively easy country, it was swallowed completely up in thetracks of a hundred horses. The railroad men circled far and wide,only to find the herd tracks everywhere ahead of them.

  "This is a beautiful job," murmured Whispering Smith as the party rodetogether along the edge of a creek-bottom. "Now who is their frienddown in this country? What man would get out a bunch of horses likethis and work them this hard so early in the morning? Let's hunt thatman up. I like to meet a man that is a friend in need."

  Bob Scott spoke: "I saw a man with some horses in a canyon across thecreek a few minutes ago, and I saw a ranch-house behind those butteswhen I rode around them."

  "Stop! Here's a man riding right into our jaws," muttered Kennedy."Divide up among the rocks." A horseman from the south came gallopingup the creek, and Kennedy rode out with an ivory smile to meet him.The two men parleyed for a moment, disputed each other sharply, androde together back to the railroad party.

  "Haven't seen any men looking for horses this morning, have you?"asked Whispering Smith, eying the stranger, a squat, square-jawedfellow with a cataract eye.

  "I'm looking for horses myself. I ain't seen anybody else. What areyou looking for?"

  "Is this your bunch of horses that got loose here?" asked Smith.

  "No."

  "I thought," said Kennedy, smiling, "you said a minute ago theywere."

  The stranger fixed his cataract on him like a flash-light. "I changedmy mind."

  Whispering Smith's brows rose protestingly, but he spoke with perfectamiability as he raised his finger to bring the good eye his way. "Youought to change your hat when you change your mind. I saw you drivinga bunch of horses up that canyon a few minutes ago. Now, Rockstro, doyou still drag your left leg?"

  The rancher looked steadily at his new inquisitor, but blinked like agopher at the sudden onslaught. "Which of you fellows is WhisperingSmith?" he demanded.

  "The man with the dough is Whispering Smith every time," was theanswer from Smith himself. "You have about seven years to serve,Rockstro, haven't you? Seven, I think. Now what have I ever done toyou that you should turn a trick like this on me? I knew you werehere, and you knew I knew you were here, and I call this a prettycountry; a little smooth right around here, like the people, butpretty. Have I ever bothered you? Now tell me one thing--what did youget for covering this trail? I stand to give you two dollars for everyone you got last night for the job, if you'll put us right on thegame. Which way did they go?"

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Get off your horse a minute," suggested Whispering Smith, dismounting,"and step over here toward the creek." The man, afraid to refuse andunwilling to go, walked haltingly after Smith.

  "What is it, Rockstro?" asked his tormentor. "Don't you like thiscountry? What do you want to go back to the penitentiary for? Aren'tyou happy here? Now tell me one thing--will you give up the trail?"

  "I don't know the trail."

  "I believe you; we shouldn't follow it anyway. Were you paid lastnight or this morning?"

  "I ain't seen a man hereabouts for a week."

  "Then you can't tell me whether there were five men or six?"

  "You've got one eye as good as mine, and one a whole lot better."

  "So it was fixed up for cash a week ago?"

  "Everything is cash in this country."

  "Well, Rockstro, I'm sorry, but we'll have to take you back with us."

  The rancher whipped out a revolver. Whispering Smith caught his wrist.The struggle lasted only an instant. Rockstro writhed, and the pistolfell to the ground.

  "Now, shall I break your arm?" asked Smith, as the man cursed andresisted. "Or will you behave? We are going right back and you'll haveto come with us. We'll send some one down to round up your horses andsell them, and you can serve out your time--with allowances, ofcourse, for good conduct, which will cut it down. If I had ever doneyou a mean turn I would not say a word. If you could name a friend ofyours I had ever done a mean turn to I would not say a word. Can youname one? I guess not. I have left you as free as the wind here,making only the rule I make for everybody--to let the railroad alone.This is my thanks. Now, I'll ask you just one question. I haven'tkilled you, as I had a perfect right to when you pulled; I haven'tbroken your arm, as I would have done if there had been a doctorwithin twenty-five miles; and I haven't started you for the pen--notyet. Now I ask you one fair question only: Did you need the money?"

  "Yes, I did need it."

  Whispering Smith dropped the man's wrist. "Then I don't say a word. Ifyou needed the money, I'm not going to send you back--not for mine."

  "How can a man make a living in this country," asked the rancher, witha bitter oath, "unless he picks up everything that's going?"

  "Pick up your gun, man! I'm not saying anything, am I?"

  "But I'm damned if I can give a double-cross to any man," addedRockstro, stooping for his revolver.

  "I should think less of you, Rockstro, if you did. You don't needmoney anyway now, but sometime you may need a friend. I'm going toleave you here. You'll hear no more of this, and I'm going to ask youa question: Why did you go against this when you knew you'd have tosquare yourself with me?"

  "They told me you'd be taken care of before it was pulled off."

  "They lied to you, didn't they? No matter, you've got their stuff. NowI am going to ask you one question that I don't know the answer to;it's a fair question, too. Was Du Sang in the penitentiary with you atFort City? Answer fair."

  "Yes."

  "Thank you. Behave yourself and keep your mouth shut. I say nothingthis time. Hereafter leave railroad matters alone, and if the womanshould fall sick or you have to have a little money, come and see me."Smith led the way back to the horses.

  "Look here!" muttered Rockstro, following, with his good eye glued onhis companion. "I pulled on you too quick, I guess--quicker'n I'dought to."

  "Don't mention it. You didn't pull quick enough; it is humiliating tohave a man that's as slow as you are pull on me. People that pull onme usually pull and shoot at the same time. Two distinct movements,Rockstro, should be avoided; they are fatal to success. Come down tothe Bend sometime, and I'll get you a decent gun and give you a fewlessons."

  Whispering Smith drew his handkerchief as the one-eyed man rode awayand he rejoined his companions. He was resigned, after a sicklyfashion. "I like to play blind-man's-buff," he said, wiping hisforehead, "but not so far from good water. They have pulled ushalf-way to the Grosse Terre Mountains on a beautiful trail, toob
eautiful to be true, Farrell--too beautiful to be true. They havebeen having fun with us, and they've doubled back, through the TopahTopahs toward the Mission Mountains and Williams Cache--that is myjudgment. And aren't we five able-bodied jays, gentlemen? Fivestrong-arm suckers? It is an inelegant word; it is an inelegantfeeling. No matter, we know a few things. There are five good men anda led horse; we can get out of here by Goose River, find out when wecross the railroad how much they got, and pick them up somewherearound the Saddle peaks, _if_ they've gone north. That's only a guess,and every man's guess is good now. What do you think, all of you?"

  "If it's the crowd we think it is, would they go straight home? Thatdoesn't look reasonable, does it?" asked Brill Young.

  "If they could put one day between them and pursuit, wouldn't they besafer at home than anywhere else? And haven't they laid out one day'swork for us, good and plenty? Farrell, remember one thing: there issometimes a disadvantage in knowing too much about the men you areafter. We'll try Goose River."

  It was noon when they struck the railroad. They halted long enough tostop a freight train, send some telegrams, and ask for news. Theygot orders from Rooney Lee, had an empty box car set behind theengine for a special, and, loading their horses at the chute, made ahelter-skelter run for Sleepy Cat. At three o'clock they struck northfor the Mission Mountains.

 

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