CHAPTER XV
FIRE! FIRE!
"Why didn't you tell me at breakfast?" demanded Swing Tunstall.
"And give it away to Jack Harpe!" said scornful Racey. "Shore, thatwould 'a' been a bright thing to do now, wouldn't it?"
"What didja do with the knife?"
"Dropped it through a knothole in the wall. The only way they'll everget hold of it is by tearing the building down."
"Jack Harpe, if he _is_ the feller, will know you found it and tryagain."
"Shore. We can't help that. One thing, we'll know before the day isover whether it is Jack Harpe or not."
"How?"
"Remember me this morning telling you how I'd left my saddle-blanketout all night and then going out in the corral for the same. I said itso Jack could hear me. He did hear me, and he watched me go. He sawme go out round the corral, and he saw me come back without thesaddle-blanket. Now anybody'd know I wouldn't leave my saddle-blanketout behind the corral, would I?"
"Not likely."
"But a feller who'd just found a knife with blood on it in his warbagsmight go out back of the corral to lose the knife, mightn't he?"
"He might."
"Well, that's what I did. Naturally, having already lost the knifedown through the knothole I couldn't lose her again. But I did thebest I could. I dug in the ground with a sharp stick, and I made ali'l hole like, and I filled her in again, and tramped her all downflat, and sort of half smoothed down the roughed-up ground like I wastrying to hide my tracks and what I'd been doing. Then I came away.
"Now I'm betting that if Jack Harpe is the lad tucked away that knifein my warbags he'll go skirmishing out behind the corral to see what Iwas really doing."
"Maybe." Doubtfully.
"There ain't any maybe if he's the man turned the trick. And fromwhere we're a-laying under this wagon we can see the back of thecorral plain as--There he comes now."
The posts of the corral were less than a hundred yards from whereRacey and Swing lay beneath a pole-propped freight wagon. From thewagon, which was standing beyond the stage company's corral, theground sloped gently to the hotel corral. Racey had taken theprecaution to mask their position with a cedar bush.
Hatless he peered through the branches at the man quartering theground behind the hotel corral.
"He's getting close to where I made that hole," he told Swing. "Nowhe's found it," he resumed as the man dropped on his knees. "JackHarpe all along. Ain't he the humoursome codger?"
"He shore couldn't 'a' dug up that hole already," declared Swing whenJack Harpe jumped to his feet after a sojourn on his knees of possiblythirty seconds' duration.
"No," assented Racey, puzzled. "He couldn't. There's an odd number,"he added, as Jack Harpe pelted back at a brisk trot over the way hehad come. "Le's not go just yet, Swing. I have a feeling."
He was glad of this feeling when ten minutes later Jack Harpe returnedwith Jake Rule and Kansas Casey. The latter carried a shovel. Thethree men clustered round the spot where Racey had dug his hole.Kansas Casey set his foot on the shovel and drove it into the ground.Racey chuckled at the pleasant sight. What must inevitably followwould be even pleasanter.
The deputy sheriff made the dirt fly for six minutes. Then he threwdown the shovel, pushed back his hat, and wiped his face on hissleeve. He spoke, but his language was unintelligible. Jack Harpe saidsomething and picked up the shovel. He began to dig. He cast the earthabout for possibly five minutes.
"Ain't he the prairie-dog, huh?" Racey demanded, jabbing his comradein the ribs with stiffened thumb. "Just watch him scratch gravel."
Suddenly Jake Rule and Kansas Casey turned their backs on thefrantically labouring Jack Harpe and walked away. Jack Harpe watchedthem, threw up a few more half-hearted shovelfuls, and then slammedthe implement to earth with a clatter, hitched up his pants, andstrode hurriedly after the officers.
"That proves it, I guess," said Swing.
"Naturally. She's enough for us, anyhow.---- it to ----!"
"Whatsa matter?" inquired Swing, surprised at his friend's vehemence.
"Whatsa matter? Whatsa matter? Everythin's the matter. I just happenedto think that now Bull won't be able to tell me what he was going toto-night."
"That'so. Can't you ask the girl?"
"I can, but I ain't shore it'll do any good. Marie ain't the kind thatblats all she knows just to hear herself talk. If she wants to tell meshe will. If she don't want to, she won't. Bull was my one best bet."
"What's that?" cried Swing, raising himself on an elbow.
"That" was the noise of a tumult in Farewell Main Street. There wereshouts and yells and screams. Above all, screams. Racey and Swinghurried to the street. When they reached it the shouts and yells hadsubsided, but the screams had not. If anything they were louder thanbefore. They issued from the mouth of Marie, whom Jake Rule, KansasCasey, and four other men were taking to the calaboose. They weredoing their duty as gently as possible, and Marie was making itas difficult for them as possible. She was as mad as a teasedrattlesnake, and not a man of her six captors but bore the marks offingernails, or teeth, or heels.
She had, it appeared, attacked without warning and with a derringer,Jack Harpe as he was walking peacefully along the sidewalk in frontof the Starlight. Only by good luck and a loose board that had turnedunder the girl's foot as she fired had Mr. Harpe been preserved fromsudden death.
"That's shore tough," Racey said to their informant. "I'm goin' rightaway now and get me a hammer and some nails and fix that loose board."
"You better not let Jack Harpe hear you say that," cautioned theother.
"If you want something to do, suppose now you tell him," was Racey'sinstant suggestion.
Racey's tone was light, but his stare was hard. The other man wentaway.
"Fire! Fire!" shrilled young Sam Brown Galloway, bouncing out of hisfather's store, and jumping up and down in the middle of Main Street."The jail's afire! The jail's afire!"
Men added their shouts to his childish squalls and ran toward thejail. Racey and Swing trundled along the sidewalk together. "She'safire, all right," said Racey. "Lookit the smoke siftin' through thewindow at the corner."
The smoke was followed by a vicious lash of flame that whipped up theside of the building and set the eaves alight. The glass of anotherwindow fell through the bars with a tinkle. A billow of smoke rushedforth. Smoke was seeping through cracks at the back of the building.
"My Gawd!" exclaimed Racey, as a shriek rent the air. "The girl's inthere!"
He had for the moment forgotten that Marie was incarcerated in thejail. But Kansas Casey had not forgotten. Racey, having picked up ahandy axe, raced round to the back only to find the deputy unlockingthe back door. A burst of smoke as he flung open the door assailedtheir lungs. Choking, holding their breath, both men dashed into thejail. Kansas unlocked the girl's cell.
"You shore took yore time about comin'," drawled Marie. "I didn't knowbut what I'd be burned up with the rest of the jail. You big lummox!You don't have to bust my wrist, do you? Go easy, or I'll claw yoreface off!"
Once outside they were immediately surrounded by the townsfolk. Mostof them were laughing. But Jake Rule was not laughing.
"Good joke on you, Jake," grinned a friend. "Burned herself out onyou, didn't she?"
"You can't keep a good man down," shouted another.
"Never let the baby play with matches," advised a third.
"Get pails, gents!" shouted Rule. "We gotta put it out. Where's apail? Who--"
"Aw, let 'er burn," said Galloway. "Hownell you gonna put it out?She's all blazin' inside. You couldn't put it out with ShoshoneFalls."
"The wind's blowin' away from town," contributed Mike Flynn. "Nothin'else'll catch. Besides, we been needing a new calaboose for a longtime. You done us a better turn than you think, Marie."
"If you say I set the jail afire, Mike Flynn," cried Marie, "Yo're aliar by the clock."
"You set it afire," said the sheriff, sternly. "You'll find it a
serious business setting a jail afire."
"Prove I done it, then!" squalled Marie. "Prove it, you slab-sidedhunk! Yah, you can't prove it, and you know it!"
To this the sheriff made no reply.
"We gotta put her somewhere till the Judge gets sober," he said,hurriedly. "Guess we'll put her in yore back room, Mike."
"Guess you won't," countered Mike. "They ain't any insurance on myplace, and I ain't taking no chances, not a chance."
"There's the hotel," suggested Kansas Casey.
"You don't use my hotel for no calaboose," squawked Bill Lainey."Nawsir. Not much. You put her in yore own house, Jake. Then if shesets you afire, it's your own fault. Yeah."
Jake Rule scratched his head. It was patent that he did not quite knowwhat to do. Came then Dolan, the local justice of the peace. Dolan'shair was plastered well over his ears and forehead. Dolan was paleyellow of countenance and breathed strongly through his nose. Helooked not a little sick. He pawed a way through the crowd and cast abilious glance at Marie.
He inquired of Jake Rule as to the trouble and its cause. On beingtold he convened court on the spot. Judge Dolan agreed with MikeFlynn that the burning of the jail was a trivial matter requiring noofficial attention. For was not Dolan's brother-in-law a carpenter andwould undoubtedly be given the contract for a new jail. Quite so.
"You can't prove anything about this jail-burning," he told Jake Ruleand the assembled multitude, "but this assault on Jack Harpe is a catwith another tail. It was a lawless act and hadn't oughta happened.Marie, yo're a citizen of Farewell, and you'd oughta take an interestin the community instead of surging out and trying to massacre avisitor in our midst, a visitor who's figuring on settlin' hereabouts,I understand. Gawd knows we need all the inhabitants we can get, andit's just such tricks as yores, Marie, that discourages immigration."
Here Judge Dolan frowned upon Marie and thumped the palm of his handwith a bony fist. Marie stood first on one leg and then on the otherand hung her head down. Since her raving outburst at the time of herarrest she had cooled considerably. It was evident that she was nowtrying to make the best of a bad business.
"Marie," resumed Judge Dolan, and cleared his throat importantly, "whydid you shoot at Mr. Jack Harpe?"
"He insulted me," Marie replied without a quiver.
"I ain't ever said a word to her," countered Jack Harpe. "I don't evenknow the girl."
The judge turned back to Marie. "Have you any witnesses to thisinsult?" he queried.
"Nary a witness." Marie shook her brown head.
"Y' oughta have a witness. She's yore word against his. Where did thisinsult take place?"
"At my shack. He come there early this mornin'."
"That's a lie!" boomed Jack Harpe.
"Which will be about all from you!" snapped Judge Dolan, vigorouslypounding his palm.
"What did he say to you?" was the judge's next question.
"I'd rather not tell," hedged Marie.
"Well, of course, you don't have to answer," said the judge,gallantly. "But alla same, Marie, you hadn't oughta used a gun on him.It--it ain't ladylike. Nawsir. Don't you do it again or I'll send youto Piegan City. Ten dollars or ten days."
"What?" Thus Jack Harpe, astonished beyond measure.
"Ten dollars or ten days," repeated Judge Dolan. "Taking a shot at youis worth ten dollars but no more. It don't make any difference whetheryou came here to invest money or not, you wanna go slow round thewomen."
"But I didn't even say howdy to her," protested Jack Harpe.
"She says different. You leave her alone."
Public opinion, which at first had rather favoured Jack Harpe, nowfrowned upon him. He shouldn't have insulted the girl. No, sir, he hadno business doing that. Be a good thing if he was arrested for it,perhaps. What a virtuous thing is public opinion.
"I ain't got a nickel, Judge," said Marie. "You'll have to trust mefor it till the end of the week."
"I'll pay her fine," nipped in Racey, glad of an opportunity to annoyJack Harpe. "Here y' are, Judge. Ten dollars, you said."
It was a few minutes after he had eaten dinner that Racey Dawsonpresented himself at the door of Kansas Casey's shack. The door wasopen. Racey stood in the doorway and leaned the shovel against thewall of the room.
"You forgot yore shovel, Kansas," he said, gently, "or Jack Harpe did.Same thing, and here it is."
Kansas had the grace to look a trifle shamefaced. "Somebody said you'dburied that knife--" he began, and stopped.
"Yep, I know, Jack Harpe," smiled Racey. "Li'l Bright Eyes is shore afriend of mine. Only I wouldn't bank too strong on what he says aboutme."
"I ain't," denied the deputy.
"Another thing, Kansas," drawled Racey, "did you ever stop to thinkhow come he knowed so much about that knife? And did you ask him if hewas the gent left that paper in Jake's office? And going on from thatdid you ask him why he didn't come out flat footed at first and saywhat he thought he knowed instead of waiting till after you'd searchedmy room? You don't have to answer, Kansas, only if I was you I'd thinkit over, I'd think it over plenty. So long."
From the house of Casey he went to the shack of Marie. He found thegirl cooking her dinner quite as if attempts at murder, dead men,and jailburning were matters of small moment. But if her mannerwas placid, her eyes were not. They were bright and hard, and theyflickered stormily upon him when she lifted her gaze from the pan offrying potatoes and saw who it was standing in the doorway.
"I'm obliged to you," she said, calmly, "for payin' my fine. You ranaway so quick this mornin' you didn't gimme any chance to thank you.I'll pay you back soon's I get paid come Saturday."
Racey stared reproachfully. He shifted his weight from oneuncomfortable foot to the other. "I didn't come here about the fine,"he told her. "I--" He stopped, uncertain whether to continue or not.
"If you didn't come about the fine it must be something elseimportant," said she, insultingly. "I shore oughta be set up, Isuppose. So far it's always been me that's had to make all the moves."
"'Moves?'" repeated Racey, frankly puzzled.
"Moves," she mimicked. "Didn't you ever play checkers? Oh, nemmine,nemmine! Don't take it to heart. I don't mean nothin'. Never did.C'mon in an' set. Take a chair. That one. What do you want? Downfeller, down!"
The command was called forth by the violent entry of the yellow dogwhich, remembering Racey as a friend, flung itself upon him withwhines and tail-waggings.
"He's all right," said Racey, rubbing the rough head. "I just thoughtI'd ask you what you knew about Jack Harpe."
Marie's narrowed eyes turned dark with suspicion. "Whadda you knowabout me an' Jack Harpe?" she demanded.
"Not as much as I'd like to know," was his frank reply.
"I ain't talkin'." Shortly.
"Now, lookit here--" he began, wheedlingly.
She shook her head at him. "S'no use. I don't tell everything I know."
"Then you do know something about Jack Harpe?"
"I didn't say I did."
"You didn't. But--"
"That's what the goat done to the stone wall. Look out you don't bustyore horns, too."
"Meanin'?"
"Meanin' you'll knock 'em off short before you get anything out o' meI don't want to tell you. And I tell you flat I ain't talkin' overJack Harpe with you."
"Scared to?" he hazarded, boldly.
"You can give it any name you like. Pull up a chair. Dinner's mostready. They's enough for two."
Despite the fact that he had just dined at the hotel he accepted herinvitation in the hope that she could be persuaded to talk. And afterdinner he smoked several cigarettes with her--still hoping. Finally,finding that nothing he could say was of any avail to move her, hetook up his hat and departed.
"Don't go away mad," she called after him.
"I ain't," he denied, and went on, her mocking laughter ringing in hisears.
After Racey was gone out of sight Marie turned back into her littlehouse. There was no la
ughter on her lips or in her eyes as she satdown in a chair beside the table and stared across it at the chair inwhich Racey had been sitting.
"He's a nice boy," she whispered under her breath, after a time. "Iwish--I wish--"
But what it was she wished it is impossible to relate, for, instead ofcompleting the sentence, she hid her face in her hands and began tocry.
Early next morning Racey Dawson and Swing Tunstall rode out of town bythe Marysville trail. They were bound for the Bar S and a job.
* * * * *
"What have you been drinkin', Racey?" demanded Mr. Saltoun, winking athis son-in-law and foreman, Tom Loudon.
The latter did not return the wink. He kept a sober gaze fastened onRacey Dawson.
Racey was staring at Mr. Saltoun. His eyes began to narrow. "Meanin'?"he drawled.
"Now don't go crawlin' round huntin' offense where none's meant,"advised Mr. Saltoun. "But you know how it is yoreself, Racey. Any gentwho gets so full he can't pick out his own hoss, and goes weaving offon somebody else's is liable to make mistakes other ways. You gottaadmit it's possible."
The slight tinge of red underlying Racey's heavy coat of tanacknowledged the corn. "It's possible," he admitted.
Mr. Saltoun saw his advantage and seized it. "S'pose now this isanother mistake?"
"Tell you what I'll do," said Racey. "You said you had jobs for acouple of handsome young fellers like us. Aw right. We go to work. Weride for you six months for nothing."
"Huh?" Mr. Saltoun and Tom Loudon stared their astonishment.
"Oh, the cat's got more of a tail than that," said Racey. "You don'tpay us a nickel for those six months _provided_ what I said willhappen, don't happen. If it does happen like I say, you pay each of ustwo hundred large round simoleons per each and every month."
"Come again," said Mr. Saltoun, wrinkling his forehead.
Racey came again as requested.
"Six months is a long time" frowned Mr. Saltoun. "If I lose--"
"But I dunno what I'm talkin' about," pointed out Racey. "I makemistakes, you know that. And you were so shore nothin' was gonnahappen. Are you still shore?"
"Well--" hesitated Mr. Saltoun.
"If you take us up you stand to be in the wages of two punchers forsix months. That's four hundred and eighty dollars. Almost fivehundred dollars. Of course, it's a chance. What ain't, I'd like toknow? But yo're so shore she's gonna keep on come-day-go-day likealways, that I'd oughta have odds."
"Five to one," mused Mr. Saltoun, pulling at the ends of his graymustache.
"And fair enough--seeing that nothing is going to happen."
"I wouldn't do it," put in Tom Loudon. "These trick bets are unlucky."
"Oh, I dunno," said Mr. Saltoun, running true to form in that herarely took kindly to advice. "Looks like a good chance to get sixmonths' work out of two men for nothing."
"Looks like a good chance to lose twenty-four hundred dollars,"exclaimed Tom Loudon, wrathfully.
"My Gawd, Tom," said Mr. Saltoun, cocking a grizzled eyebrow, "youdon't mean to tell me you think they's any chance a-tall of Racey'swinning this bet, do you?"
"They's just about ten times more chance for him to win than to lose."
"Tom, do you ever see any li'l pink lizards with blue tails an' redfeet? I hear that's a sign, too."
"Aw right, have it yore own way," said Tom Loudon with every symptomof disgust. "Only don't say I didn't warn you."
"Gawd, Tom, y' old wet blanket, yo're always a-warnin' me. I never seesuch a feller."
"Aw right, I said. Aw right. But when yo're a-writin' out a checkfor twenty-four hundred dollars, just remember how I always told yousomebody was gonna horn in here some day and glom half the range."
"Laugh," said Mr. Saltoun. "Yo're shore the jokin'est feller, TomLoudon. Even Racey and his partner are laughing."
"I should think they would," Tom Loudon returned, savagely. "I'dlaugh, too, if I stood to win twenty-four hundred in six months."
Mr. Saltoun shook a whimsical head at Racey Dawson. "Whatsa use?" heasked, sorrowfully. "Whatsa use?"
* * * * *
"You was too easy with him," declared Swing, as he and Racey wereunsaddling at the Bar S corral. "You could 'a' stuck him for threehundred a month just as easy."
Racey shook a decided head. "No, there's a limit even to Old Salt'sstubbornness. I know him better'n you do ... Aw, what you kickingabout? We've got enough coin in our overalls to last out six months ifyou don't drink too much."
"If I don't drink too much, hey! If _I_ don't drink too much! Which Ilike that. Who's--"
"Racey," interrupted Tom Loudon, who had approached unperceived, "thisis a fine way to treat yore friends."
"What's bitin' you?"
"You hadn't oughta take advantage of Old Salt thisaway."
"And why not? What's wrong with the bet? Fair bet. Leave it toanybody."
"Shore, shore, but alla same, Racey, you'd oughta gone a li'l easy.Twenty-four hundred dollars--"
"What's the dif? You won't have to pay it."
"'Tsall right, but I didn't think it of you, damfi did. You know howOld Salt is--always certain shore he's right, and you took advantage."
"Shore I took advantage," Racey acquiesced, amiably. "I got sense, Ihave. Alla same, he'd never 'a' taken me up if you hadn't slipped inyore li'l piece of advice for him not to. That was a bad play, Tom.You might know he'd go dead against you. But I ain't complaining, notme. Nor Swing ain't, either. We'll thank you for yore helping hand toour dying day."
"I guess you will," Tom Loudon said, ruefully. "When you get throughhere, Racey, you and Swing come on over to the wagon shed. I wannasift through this Jack Harpe business once more."
The Heart of the Range Page 15