Mavericks

by William MacLeod Raine

  CHAPTER XXI

  BREAKING DOWN AN ALIBI

  Keller found convalescence under the superintendence of Miss Sandersonone of the great pleasures of his life. Her school was out for thesummer and she was now at home all day. He had never before found timeto be lazy, and what dreaming he had done had been in the stress ofaction. Now he might lie the livelong day and not too obviously watchher brave, frank youth as she moved before him or sat reading. For thefirst time in his life he was in love!

  But as the nester grew better he perceived that she was withdrawingherself from him. He puzzled over the reason, not knowing that herbrother, Phil, was troubling her with flings and accusations thrown outbitterly because his boyish concern for her good name could find nogentler way to express itself.

  "They're saying you're in love with the fellow--and him headed straightfor the pen," he charged.

  "Who says it, Phil?" she asked quietly, but with flaming cheeks.

  He smote his fist on the table. "It don't matter who says it. You keepaway from him. Let Aunt Becky nurse him. You haven't any call to wait onhim, anyhow. If he's got to be nursed by one of the family, I'll do it."

  He tried to keep his word, and as a result of it the wounded man had toendure his sulky presence occasionally. Keller was man of the worldenough to be amused at his attitude, and yet was interested enough inthe lad's opinion of him to keep always an even mood of cheerfulfriendliness. There was a quantity of winsome camaraderie about him thatwon its way with Phil in spite of himself. Moreover, all the boy in himresponded to the nester's gameness, the praises of which he heard on allsides.

  "I see you have quite made up your mind I'm a skunk," the wounded mantold him amiably.

  "You robbed the bank at Noches and shot up three men that hadn't hurtyou any," the boy retorted defiantly.

  "Not unless Jim Yeager is a liar."

  "Oh, Jim! No use going into that. He's your friend. I don't know why,but he is."

  "And you're Brill Healy's. That's why you won't tell that he wascarrying your sister's knife the day I saw you and him first."

  The boy flashed toward the bed startled eyes. Keller was looking at himvery steadily.

  "Who says he had Phyl's knife?"

  "Hadn't he?"

  "What difference does that make, anyhow? I hear you're telling that youfound the knife beside the dead cow. You ain't got any proof, have you?"challenged young Sanderson angrily.

  "No proof," admitted the other.

  "Well, then." Phil chewed on it for a moment before he broke out again:"I reckon you cayn't talk away the facts, Mr. Keller. We caught you inthe act--caught you good. By your own story, you're the man we came on.What's the use of you trying to lay it on me and Brill?"

  "Am I trying to lay it on you?"

  "Looks like. On Brill, anyhow. There's nothing doing. Folks in this neckof the woods is for him and against you. Might as well _sabe_ that rightnow," the lad blurted.

  "I _sabe_ that some of them are," the other laughed, but not with quitehis usual debonair gayety. For he did not at all like the way thingslooked.

  But though Phil had undertaken to do all the nursing that needed to bedone by the family, he was too much of an outdoors dweller to confinehimself for long to the four walls of a room. Besides, he was oftencalled away by the work of looking after the cattle of the ranch.Moreover, both he and his father were away a good deal arranging for thedisposal of their sheep. At these times her patient hoped, and hoped invain, that Phyllis would take her brother's place.

  Came a day when Keller could stand it no longer. In Becky's absence, hemade shift to dress himself, bit by bit, lying on the bed in completeexhaustion after the effort of getting into each garment. He couldscarce finish what he had undertaken, but at last he was clothed andready for the journey. Leaning on a walking stick, he dragged himselfinto the passage and out to the porch, where Phyllis was sitting alone.

  She gave a startled cry at sight of him standing there, haggard andwhite, his clothes hanging on his gaunt frame much as if he had been askeleton.

  "What are you doing?" she cried, running to his aid.

  After she had got him into her chair, he smiled up at her and pantedweakly. He was leaning back in almost complete exhaustion.

  "You wouldn't come to see me, so--I came--to see you," he gasped out, atlast.

  "But--you shouldn't have! You might have done yourself a great injury.It's--it's criminal of you."

  "I wanted to see you," he explained simply.

  "Why didn't you send for me?"

  "There wasn't anybody to send. Besides, you wouldn't have stayed. Younever do, now."

  She looked at him, then looked away. "You don't need me now--and I havemy work to do."

  "But I do need you, Phyllie."

  It was the first time he had ever spoken the diminutive to her. He letout the word lingeringly, as if it were a caress. The girl felt thecolor flow beneath her dusky tan. She changed the subject abruptly.

  "None of the boys are here. How am I to get you back to your room?"

  "I'll roll a trail back there presently, ma'am."

  She looked helplessly round the landscape, in hope of seeing some ridercoming to the store. But nobody was in sight.

  "You had no business to come. It might have killed you. I thought youhad better sense," she reproached.

  "I wanted to see you," he parroted again.

  Like most young women, she knew how to ignore a good deal. "You'll haveto lean on me. Do you think you can try it now?"

  "If I go, will you stay with me and talk?" he bargained.

  "I have my work to do," she frowned.

  "Then I'll stay here, thank you kindly." He settled back into the chairand let her have his gay smile. Nevertheless, she saw that his lips werecolorless.

  "Yes, I'll stay," she conceded, moved by her anxiety.

  "Every day?"

  "We'll see."

  "All right," he laughed weakly. "If you don't come, I'll take a _pasear_and go look for you." She helped him to his feet and they stood for amoment facing each other.

  "You must put your hand on my shoulder and lean hard on me," she toldhim.

  But when she saw the utter weakness of him, her arm slipped round hiswaist and steadied him.

  "Now then. Not too fast," she ordered gently.

  They went back very slowly, his weight leaning on her more at everystep. When they reached his room, Keller sank down on the bed, utterlyexhausted. Phyllis ran for a cordial and put it to his lips. It was sometime before he could even speak.

  "Thank you. I ain't right husky yet," he admitted.

  "You mustn't ever do such a thing again," she charged him.

  "Not ever?"

  "Not till the doctor says you're strong enough to move."

  "I won't--if you'll come and see me every day," he answeredirrepressibly.

  So every afternoon she brought a book or her sewing, and sat by him,letting Phil storm about it as much as he liked. These were happy hours.Neither spoke of love, but the air was electrically full of it. Theylaughed together a good deal at remarks not intrinsically humorous, andagain there were conversational gaps so highly charged that she wouldrush at them as a reckless hunter takes a fence.

  As he got better, he would be propped up in bed, and Aunt Becky wouldbring in tea for them both. If there had been any corner of his heartunwon it would have surrendered then. For to a bachelor the acme ofbliss is to sit opposite a girl of whom he is very fond, and to see herbuttering his bread and pouring his tea with that air of domesticitythat visualizes the intimacy of which he has dreamed. Keller had playeda lone hand all his turbulent life, and this was like a glimpse ofHeaven let down to earth for his especial benefit.

  It was on such an occasion that Jim Yeager dropped in on them upon hisreturn from Noches. He let his eyes travel humorously over the roombefore he spoke.

  "Why for don't I ever have the luck to be shot up?" he drawled.

  "Oh, you Jim!" Keller called a greeting from the bed.
Phyllis cameforward, and, with a heightened color, shook hands with him.

  "You'll sit down with us and have some tea, Jim," she told him.

  "Me? I'm no society Willie. Don't know the game at all, Phyl. Besides,I'm carrying half of Arizona on my clothes. It's some dusty down in theMalpais."

  Nevertheless he sat down, and, over the biscuits and jam, told themeagre story of what he had found out.

  The finding of the stocking-footed roan near Noches so soon after therobbery disposed of Healy's lie, though it did not prove that Keller hadnot been riding it at the time of the holdup. As for Healy, Yeagerconfessed he saw no way of implicating him. His alibi was just as goodas that of any of them.

  But there was one person his story did involve, and that was Spiker, thetinhorn, tenderfoot sport of Noches. During the absence of this youngman at the gaming table, Jim and his friend, Sam Weaver, had got intohis room with a skeleton key and searched it thoroughly. They had found,in a suit case, a black mask, a pair of torn and shiny chaps, a grayshirt, a white, dusty sombrero, much the worse for wear, and over threehundred dollars in bills.

  "What does he pretend his business is?" Keller asked, when Jim hadfinished.

  "Allows he's a showfer. Drives folks around in a gasoline wagon. That'sthe theory, but I notice he turned down a mining man who wanted to gethim to run him into the hills on Monday. Said he hadn't time. Theshowfer biz is a bluff, looks like."

  The nester made no answer. His eyes, narrowed to slits, were gazing outof the window absently. Presently he came from deep thought to askYeager to hand him the map he would find in his inside coat pocket. Thishe spread out on the bed in front of him. When at last he looked up hewas smiling.

  "I reckon it's no bluff, Jim. He's a chauffeur, all right, but he onlydrives out select outfits."

  "Meaning?"

  The map lying in front of Keller was one of Noches County. The nesterlocated, with his index finger, the town of that name, and traced theroad from it to Seven Mile. Then his finger went back to Noches, andfollowed the old military road to Fort Lincoln, a route which almostparalleled the one to the ranch.

  The eyes of Phyllis were already shining with excitement. She divinedwhat was coming.

  "Is this road still travelled, Jim?"

  "It goes out to the old fort. Nobody has lived there for most thirtyyears. I reckon the road ain't travelled much."

  "Strikes through Del Oro Canon, doesn't it, right after it leavesNoches?"

  "Yep."

  "I reckon, Jim, your friend, Spiker, drove a party out that way theafternoon of the holdup," the nester drawled smilingly. "By the way, isyour friend in the lockup?"

  "He sure is. The deputy sheriff arrested him same night we went throughhis room."

  "Good place for him. Well, it looks like we got Mr. Healy tagged atlast. I don't mean that we've got the proof, but we can prove he mighthave been on the job."

  "I don't see it, Larry. I reckon my head's right thick."

  "I see it," spoke up Phyllis quickly.

  Keller smiled at her. "You tell him."

  "Don't you see, Jim? The motor car must have been waiting for themsomewhere after they had robbed the bank," she explained.

  "At the end of Del Oro Canon, likely," suggested the nester.

  She nodded eagerly. "Yes, they would get into the canon before thepursuit was in sight. That is why they were not seen by Slim and therest of the posse."

  Yeager looked at her, and as he looked the certainty of it grew on him.His mind began to piece out the movements of the outlaws from the timethey left Noches. "That's right, Phyl. His car is what he calls ahummer. It can go like blazes--forty miles an hour, he told me. And theold fort road is a dandy, too."

  "They would leave the automobile at Willow Creek, and cut across to thePass," she hazarded.

  "All but Brill. Being bridlewise, he rode right for Seven Mile to makedead sure of his alibi, whilst the others made their getaway with theloot. When he happened to meet you on the way, he would be plumbtickled, for that cinched things proper for him. You would be a witnessnobody could get away from."

  "And what about their hawsses? Did they bring the bronchs in the car,too?" drawled Keller, an amused flicker in his eyes.

  The others, who had been swimming into their deductions so confidently,were brought up abruptly. Phyllis glanced at Jim and looked foolish.

  "The bronchs couldn't tag along behind at a forty per clip. That'sright," admitted Yeager blankly.

  "I hadn't thought about that. And they had to have their horses withthem to get from Willow Creek to the Pass. That spoils everything," thegirl agreed.

  Then, seeing her lover's white teeth flashing laughter at her, she knewhe had found a way round the difficulty. "How would this do,partners--just for a guess: The car was waiting for them at the end ofthe Del Oro Canon. They dumped their loot into it, then unsaddled andthrew all the saddles in, too. They gave the bronchs a good scare, andstarted them into the hills, knowing they would find their way back homeall right in a couple of days. At Willow Creek they found hawsseswaiting for them, and Mr. Spiker hit the back trail for Noches, with hiscar, and slid into town while everybody was busy about the robbery."

  "Sure. That would be the way of it," his friend nodded. "All we got todo now is to get Spiker to squeal."

  "If he happens to be a quitter."

  "He will--under pressure. He's that kind."

  A knock came on the door, and Tom Benwell, the store clerk, answeredher summons to come in.

  "It's Budd, Miss Phyl. He came to see about getting-that stuff you wasgoing to order for a dress for his little girl," the storekeeperexplained.

  Phyllis rose and followed the man back to the store. When she had gone,Jim stepped to the door and shut it. Returning, he sat down beside thebed.

  "Larry, I didn't tell all I know. That hat in Spiker's room had theinitials P.S. written on the band. What's more, I knew the hat by a bigcoffee stain splashed on the crown. It happens I made that stain myselfon the round-up onct when we were wrastling and I knocked the coffeepotover."

  Keller looked at his friend gravely. "It was Phil Sanderson's hat?"

  Yeager nodded assent. "He must have loaned his old hat to Spiker for theholdup."

  "You didn't turn the hat over to the sheriff?"

  "Not so as you could notice it. I shoved it in my jeans and burnt itover my camp fire next day."

  "This mixes things up a heap. If Phil is in this thing--and it surelooks that way--it ties our hands. I'd like to have a talk with Spikerbefore we do anything."

  "What's the matter with having a talk with Phil? Why not shove thisthing right home to him?"

  The nester shook his head. "Let's wait a while. We don't want to driveHealy away yet. If the kid's in it he would go right to Healy with thewhole story."

  Yeager swore softly. "It's all Brill's fault. He's been leading Philinto devilment for two years now."

  "Yes."

  "And all the time been playing himself for the leader of us fellows thatare against the rustlers and that Bear Creek outfit," continued Jimbitterly. "Why, we been talking of electing him sheriff. Durn hisforsaken hide, he's been riding round asking the boys to vote for him ona promise to clean out the miscreants."

  "You can oppose him, of course. But we have no absolute proof againsthim yet. We must have proof that nobody can doubt."

  "I reckon. And'll likely have to wait till we're gray."

  "I don't think so. My guess is that he's right near the end of his rope.We're going to make a clean-up soon as I get solid on my feet."

  "And Phil? What if we catch him in the gather, and find him wearing thebad-man brand?"

  Keller's eyes met those of his friend. "There never was a rodeo wheresome cattle didn't slip through unnoticed, Jim."