X
"When the high heart we magnify And the sure vision celebrate, And worship greatness passing by-- Ourselves are great." --JOHN DRINKWATER.
Mr. George Gwinne sprawled at his graceless ease along two chairs; heheld a long-stemmed brier-wood pipe between his bearded lips andpuffed thoughtfully. The pipestem was long of necessity; with a shortstem Mr. Gwinne had certainly set that beard alight. It was amagnificent beard, such as you may not see in these degenerate days.Nor did you see many such in those degenerate days, for that matter.It was long and thick and wide and all that a beard should be; itreached from his two big ears to below the fifth rib. It was silky andwavy and curly, and--alas for poor human nature!--it was kempt andkept--an Assyrian beard. Yet Mr. George Gwinne was, of all the sons ofman, unlikeliest to be the victim of vanity. His beard was a dusty redbrown, the thick poll of hair on his big square head was dusky redbrown, lightly sprinkled with frost, his big eyes were reddish brown;and Argive Helen might have envied his brows, perfect brows in anyother setting; merely comic here--no, no, "tragic" is the word, sinceall else about the man was coarse of grain and fiber, uncouth andrepulsive.
His hands were big and awkward, and they swung from armsdisproportionately long; his feet were big and flat, his body was bigand gross, he was deep-chested and round-shouldered, his neck was abull's neck, his ears were big and red, his head was big and coarseand square, his face was gnarled where it was not forested, hischance-seen lips were big and coarse, his nose was a monstrous beak,his voice was a hoarse deep rumble. And somewhere behind that roughhusk dwelt a knightly soul, kindly and tender and sensitive--one ofthat glorious company, "who plotted to be worthy of the world."
He had friends--yes, and they held him high--but seeming and reportheld him pachyderm, and they trod upon his heart. Only to a few havetime and chance shown a glimpse of the sad and lonely spirit behindthose tired eyes--and they have walked softlier all their days for it.This is not his story; but there will be a heavy reckoning when GeorgeGwinne's account goes to audit.
Mr. Gwinne's gaze rested benignantly on a sleeping man; a young andsmallish man, very different from Mr. Gwinne in every respect,sprightly and debonair, even in sleep, with careless grace in everyline of him, just as he had thrown himself upon the bunk. He hadremoved hat and boots by way of preparation for bed, and his vestserved for a pillow. Long lashes lay on a cheek lightly tanned toolive, but his upper forehead was startling white by contrast, where aheavy hat had shaded it from burning suns. His hands were soft andwhite; the gloved hands of a rider in his youth. The bunk, it may bementioned, was behind iron bars; Mr. Gwinne was chief deputy andjailer, and the sleeper was Mr. Johnny Dines.
Mr. Gwinne tapped out his pipe and spoke huskily: "Young feller, getup! Can't you hear the little birds singing their praises to--"
"Ur-rgh! Ugh! Ar-rumph-umph!" said Johnny, sitting up.
He started a little as his eyes fell on the bars. He pulled hisshoulders together. Recollection followed puzzlement on his yetunguarded face; he passed his fingers through his tousled hair, makingfurther tanglement. He looked at the absurd gigantic figure beyond thebars, and his eyes crinkled to smiling. Then his face took on anexpression of discontent. He eyed his bed with frank distaste.
"I say, old top--no offense, and all that, but look now--I've neverbeen in jail before. Is the establishment all scientific andeverything? No objectionable--er--creepers, you know?"
"Why, you impudent young whelp! Damn your hide, I sleep here myself.If there's a grayback in my jail I'll eat your shirt. What in time doyou mean by it, hey? Pulling my leg? You'd a heap better be studyingabout your silly neck, you young devil. Come out of that, now! Nineo'clock, past. Wish I had your conscience. Ten hours' solid sleep andstill going strong."
"Gee, why didn't you wake me up? Are they going to hold my preliminarytrial this morning or wait till after dinner? I'm sort of interestedto see what indiscriminating evidence they've got."
"No trial to-day," said Gwinne gruffly. "Justice of the peace is up inthe hills beyond Kingston, doin' assessments. They've gone after him,but they won't get back till late to-night."
"H'm!" Johnny rubbed his nose and looked searchingly at hisridiculously small and shapely feet; he wriggled his toes. "And don'tI eat till His Honor gets back?" he inquired diffidently.
Gwinne rose heavily and shambled to the cell. "If I let you out to eatbreakfast with me like a white man--no pranks?"
"Nary prank," said Johnny.
"She goes," said Gwinne.
He unlocked the door. Johnny slipped on his high-heeled boots andfollowed his jailer to the kitchen.
"Water and washpan over there," said Gwinne, and poked fresh wood inthe fire. "Ham and eggs this A. M." He rumbled a subterranean ditty:
_Ham-fat, ham-fat, smoking in the pan-- There's a mighty sight of muscle on a ham-fat man._
Johnny sent an amused glance up and down his warden's inches.
"You must have been raised on it, then."
"Hog and hominy. There's a comb and brush."
"Got a comb." Johnny fumbled comb and toothbrush from his vest, andcompleted his toilet. "Haven't you had breakfast yet?"
"Naw. I hated to wake you up, you was hitting it off so regular. Andyou're the only prisoner I got now. Court's just over and the sheriffhe's gone to Santa Fe with my only boarders. Lord only knows whenhe'll get back," said Mr. Gwinne parenthetically. "Jim is a goodsheriff, a mighty good sheriff--but when he gets away from home hesees life through a glass darkly. They had him in jail, last time. SoI thought we might as well be sociable."
"Oh! Then you're the party for me to jolly up when I want favors?"
"No," said Gwinne regretfully, "I'm not. The justice is gone, thesheriff's gone, and the district judge is always gone except whencourt sits here. But the prosecuting attorney--he serves for the wholedistrict, five counties, like the judge, you know--why, by bad luck,he's right here, a-hoppin' and a-rarin'. So I'm under orders."
"Well, so am I. What are they? What can I do to help?" The ham sizzledmerrily. "Um-m!" said Johnny appreciatively.
"You might set the table. I'll do the cooking to-day. If so beyou get to be a star boarder you'll have to do your share of thecooking--though I reckon they'll want me to keep you under key ifyou're bound over. Come to think, this prosecuting person would likelykick like a green bay horse if he knew I was lettin' you mill roundfoot-loose. However, he don't know. How many eggs? Hard or soft?"
"Oh, about four--medium. We can always cook more if we have to. Andfour pods of _chili_. But why has the prosecutor got it in for me? Hedon't want to cinch me unless I'm guilty, does he?"
"It isn't that, exactly. You see, it has got out that you ride for theBar Cross. And the Bar Cross boys got Wade's goat, some way, down inCruces. I don't know what they did, but he's sure on the peck, andhere's where he stands to break even. Pour the coffee. Tin cow yonderon the shelf."
"Oh, well--he may have a little fun coming to him," said Johnnygenerously. "But let us hope, for his own sake, that he givesme a fair shake when it comes to my trial. If the Bar Cross andthe John Cross aren't just satisfied they are capable of anyrudeness--abandoned ruffians! Say, I hope someone took care ofmy Twilight horse."
"He's all right. I put him up with Otto Gans, myself. There, she'sready. _Sientese!_" The jailer seated himself opposite the guest."No butter. You'll have to excuse me."
"Butter, hell. Whadya think I am--an incubator kid? Say, there's a fewold vets here in Hillsboro that used to know my dad--me, too, when Iwas a little shaver, some of them. Spinal Maginnis, George Perrault,Kayler, Nick Galles and Preisser. H'm, let me see--and Jake Blun,Mabury and Page. Could you manage me a palaver with some one or two of'em after breakfast?"
"Pleasure first, pain afterwards," growled Gwinne. "You eat a fewlines while I hold high discourse to you about the good and great.District attorneys, now. Us being a territory thataway, districtattorneys are appointed by the
President--allee same like our judgesand U. S. marshals and clerks of the court. All of 'em are appointedfor four years, the same being the President's term. Presidents beingso constituted by a wise and beneficent Providence, they appoint menfrom states where said men and their friends, if any, vote forPresident, and not from our humble midst. 'Cause why? We're notallowed to vote. More coffee?"
Johnny held his cup. Gwinne took up his discourse.
"Also, and moreover, they appoint politicians. We will not pursue thispainful subject further except to add that, New Mexico being what andwhere it is, these appointees, while they might be first-class men andseldom were--they were always tenth-rate politicians. Becausepoliticians rated higher than tenth-rate demanded something better.Yes. When Grover was in, they all came from Missouri, and they wasn'tso bad but what they might have been worse, with proper care. And nowthey're all from darkest Injianny; a doubtful state. Something else,too. Even when they was well-meaning--which often was guessable--why,they're not our people. We have our little ways and they have theirown little ways, and they're not the same little ways; and they ruleus by their little ways. That's bad. To judge a man by the standardsof another time and place is prejudging, and that means oppression,and oppression breeds riots in hell. That is how most trouble starts,I reckon--not understanding, prejudging. Men don't naturally like topress down. They'd a heap rather comfort and help--if they could justsee the way clear. Helping someone out of a tight is just about thepleasantest thing a man can do. But these people Uncle Sam sends hereto manage us, they don't think our thoughts and they don't speak ourtongue. They ask for brick and we bring them mortar; they ask forbread and we rock 'em to sleep. That's the way I look at it. Won't youcoincide with me?"
"Why, yes," said Johnny, "now that you mention it--I don't care if Ido."
The jailer eyed his captive with painful distrust. Then he sighedheavily.
"Flippant and inattentive! A bad mark. Nine more demerits and you'llbe suspended." He rose and went to a closet and returned with a bottleand glasses. "A long drop and a quick finish!"
"Wishing you the same!" said Johnny Dines. The glasses clinkedtogether.
"So you be advised and don't waive examination," resumed Gwinne. "Wadewill want you to do that. Don't you listen to Wade. You make yourfight to-morrow. Old Andy Hinkle, the J. P., he's a homespun. Whenhe hits a drill he hits her with all his carcass, from the ground up,and when he goes a-judging, justice is what he wants. His habit anddisposition is real earnest and he mostly brings back what he goesafter. You could rake all hell with a fine-tooth comb and not find aworse man to try you--if you killed Adam Forbes. If you did kill himyou're goin' to lose your shadow soon--and there's your fortune told,right now."
"It is my thinking that I will make old bones yet, and tell tales inthe chimney corner. Now you sit back and smoke while I wash up," saidJohnny, gathering up the dishes. "I gotta ingratiate myself with you,you know. Go on, now--tell us some more. And how about me having aconfidential with my friends?"
"That's just it. I was a-preparing of your mind, so you wouldn't bedisappointed too much. This prosecuting person, Wade--he doneinstructed me not to let you see anyone except your lawyer."
"Lawyer, hell! What do I want of a lawyer?"
"Oh! Then you claim to be innocent, do you?" Gwinne's silken browsarched in assumed astonishment.
"Well, I hope so!" said Johnny indignantly. "If I was claiming to beguilty, why confab with my friends? Say, this is one raw deal if afellow can't get an even break."
"Wade claims you might frame up something. He was particularly anxiousthe John Cross shouldn't hear of it until after your preliminary.Undue influence and all that."
"Frame up my foot! I didn't kill that man and I reckon I can prove itif I have any chance to know what evidence they're going to bringagainst me." Again that angry spot glowed on the clear olive of hischeek. "How can I study it over when I don't know what's happened orwhat is said to have happened? I'll have to go to trial in thedark--no chance to cipher on what's what, like I would if I had achance to thresh it out with my friends."
"Well," said Gwinne gently, "what's the matter with me?"
"So that's all?" said Gwinne, after Dines had told his story. "Sure ofit?"
"Absolutely. He rode up while I was branding my long-ear. He gave me aletter to mail and gassed while he smoked a cig, and wandered back theway he came, while I oozed away down the canyon. No more, no less. Saidhe was prospecting, he did--or did he?" Johnny reflected; rememberingthen that Forbes in giving him a letter to mail had mentioned locationnotices. "Yes, he did."
With the words another memory came into his mind, of the trouble withJody Weir on day herd--about another letter, that was. This memory--soJohnny assured himself--flashed up now because Weir was one of hisfive accusers. No--there were only three accusers, as he understood itfrom the talk of the night before; three accusers, five to arrest him.Yet only one had come actually to make the arrest. Queer!
"Now," said Johnny, "it's your turn."
He curled a cigarette and listened. Early in the recital he rubbed hisnose to stimulate thought; but later developments caused him totransfer that attention to his neck, which he stroked with caressingsolicitude. Once he interrupted.
"I never stole a calf in a bare open hillside, right beside a wagonroad, never in my whole life," he protested indignantly. "As anexperienced man, does that look reasonable to you?"
"No, it don't," said Gwinne. "But that's the story. Adam was foundclose by your fire--shot in the back and dragged from the stirrup;shot as he rode, so close up that his shirt took fire. And no one rodein Redgate yesterday, but you, and those three, and Adam Forbes."
"Yes. That might very well be true," said Johnny.
"It is true. They wouldn't dare tell it that way if it wasn't true.Tracks show for themselves. And they knew that good men would bereading those tracks."
The prisoner rose and walked a little before he made answer. When hespoke at last it was in a more serious tone.
"You see, I've got inside information. I know several things youdon't know, that give a different meaning to all this evidence and allthese tracks."
"Well," said Gwinne, "you need it. A horse's track leads from the deadman to Garfield--a track that lacks one shoe."
"My horse had lost a shoe," said Johnny.
"Yes. You tacked one on him at Sam Gray's store. But that is not theworst. The worst is that there are three of them and only one of you."Johnny felt of his neck again, delicately. "By your tell there isn'tany man in the world to help out your bare word. If you have any freshdope, spill it."
"I happen to be in a position to state certainly, at first hand,something which modifies the other evidence," said Dines slowly andconfidentially. "I happen to know positively that I didn't murder thatman. That's exclusive. You only hear me say it--but I know it. So youmustn't be hurt if I'm not convinced. If the horse tracks say I'm thekiller--the tracks are wrong, that's all. Or wrongly read. You will bebest served if you either accept the full assurance of my guilt, andso base your deductions on that, or else accept my innocence as sure,and read sign with that in mind. It gets you nowhere to fit thosetracks to both theories. Such evidence will fit in with the truth tothe last splinter, like two broken pieces of one stick. It won't fitexactly with any lie, not the cleverest; there'll be a crack here, asplinter left over there, unaccountable. For instance, if my accusersare right, the dead man's horse went down Redgate ahead of me; mytracks will be on top of his wherever we took the same trail."
"Exactly. That's what they say. They might have been mistaken. It ishard and stony ground."
"They may have been mistaken, yes. Someone else will see those tracks.Now you listen close. Listen hard. If it turns out that Jody Weir andhis two pardners, coming down Redgate on a run to give the alarm, rodeover and rubbed out all tracks made by my horse and the dead man'shorse, wherever they crossed each other--then that's another mistakethey made. For when I left Forbes there were only two fresh tracks inthe
canyon--tracks of two fresh-shod horses going up the canyon,keeping to the road, and made yesterday. I'm sorry they didn't take meback to Garfield. I would have liked a peek at those tracks myself."
"But it rained, and it rained hard."
Johnny felt of his neck again.
"She sure did," he agreed. "Started just as this man Lull picked me,like fruit on the bough. I forgot that. Well, anyway, if this Garfieldplace is half human, then a slew of men went up Redgate Canyon beforethe rain. There must have been some live ones in the bunch."
"I wouldn't worry about that none if I was you," said the jailer. "Iknow Garfield, and I know old Pete Harkey, and he was taking the lead.If Adam's horse came down the canyon after you did, he'll know it. Andif your track and the other were carefully ridden out where theycrossed--why, old Pete will see that, too."
Johnny raised his hand. "That's what he will see! Hold that ideatight--squeeze it! If I am innocent, those tracks were ridden out andspoiled, till Adam Forbes' horse went one way and mine another."
"Well, then--Pete Harkey'll see that, too; he will think about it onceand twice. Don't you worry. Jerome Martin and Jim-Ike-Jones wentalong, too, and old man Fenderson, maybe. They'll see. That's whatthey're going for."
"Hearsay evidence is no good in court. So I'm going to prophesy inwriting--with you to witness and swear to the time of it--that alltracks this side of the murdered man are muddled. That writtenprophecy may not be evidence, but it will make the judge scratch hishead."
"As much as to say--"
"Exactly. Someone killed Adam Forbes. You don't want to forget that.If it wasn't me--who was it? Well, let me tell you something. It was amean man. Now you keep still a little, while I think over the meanestman I've seen lately."
Johnny rolled another smoke; and when it was alight he spoke again.
"Curious, when we come to think of it, but the meanest things a mancan do is what he does with his mouth. To kiss and tell, for instance;betrayal under trust. We go to church and hear about the crucifixion.We have no hatred for the hands that drove the nails or the soldierwho stood guard--scarcely for the fanatics who hounded the innocent toa shameful death. Our loathing is for Judas Iscariot, who betrayedwith a kiss."
Gwinne eyed his captive benevolently.
"Good land of Goshen, son--what on earth has all this got to do withthe price of hemp?"
"Everything to do with it. Demand for hemp is going to fluctuateviolently if I can swing the deal I have in mind," replied Johnny,with spirit. "I was just thinking about two traitors I know."
In a prolonged silence Mr. Gwinne rumpled his beard and refilled hispipe.
"The two Garfield men and the other three did not seem to be agreeingvery well," he said at last. "Lull--he's the one who arrested you--hewent back to Garfield last night. Couldn't sleep, he said, and they'dbe wanting to know in Garfield. The other one, See, the least one, hewas round here soon this morning wanting to talk it up with you. Hewas real feverish about the quarantine."
Johnny cocked his head impishly and looked sidelong at the jailer.
"Just what was the big idea for sending one man to arrest me?"
"They didn't say."
"And why were they all crosswise with each other, like jackstraws?"
"They didn't tell me that either."
"You're allowed three guesses."
Gwinne puffed unhurriedly at his pipe, and after some meditationdelivered himself of a leisurely statement between puffs.
"About a year ago, near as I can remember, this man Caney--Big EdCaney--deputy sheriff in Dona Ana--did you know that? Thought not.Well, he went out beyond Hatch with a warrant for a fellow. He foundanother man--old Mexican sheep herder--cut down on him with a rifleand ordered him to throw 'em up. The old Mexican was scared or else heremembered something, I don't know which; he was perfectly innocent ofthis particular charge, whatever it was; they caught the other manlater. Anyhow the old gentleman made a dash for his gun--it wasleaning up against a tree not far away. And Caney killed him."
"So you think maybe Caney wanted to start something. Ambush, maybe? SoI'd go after my gun?"
"I don't know anything about what Caney wanted to do or didn't want todo. All I know is--he didn't."
"And the Garfield boys wouldn't stand for it?" persisted Johnny.
"Lull and Charlie See won't stand for any crooked work--if it's themyou mean. Lull was the only Garfield man. Charlie See is from DonaAna, where they grow good and bad, same as they do here."
"Yes. I see. I know Jody and Toad Hales, myself. I met Lull and Seeyesterday evenin', just out of Garfield. Say, Mr. Gwinne, could yourustle me a razor?"
"I can too. Anything else on your mind?"
"Why, no. Only I wish I knew where the John Cross outfit is holdingforth, and when they are likely to get word about me being in a tight.They may hear to-day, and it may be a week."
"They're up beyond Hermosa, somewhere at the head of Cuchillo Creek.And I shouldn't much wonder if they heard about you to-day sometime."Mr. Gwinne looked through the window at the visible wedge ofHillsboro, wavy low hills and winding streets; looked with long andlingering interest, and added irrelevantly: "I knew your father."
* * * * *
Late that afternoon a heavy knock came at the outer door of the jail.Gwinne hustled his prisoner into a cell and answered the call.
He was greeted at the door by Aloys Preisser, the assayer, agay-hearted old Bavarian--the same for whom, in his youth, PreisserHill was named--and by Hobby Lull. Hobby's face was haggard and drawn;there were dark circles under his eyes.
"We want to settle a bet," announced Hobby, "and we're leaving itto you. I say that Robin Hood knocked out the Proud Sheriff ofNottingham, and Preisser claims it was a draw. How about it?"
"Hood got the decision on points," said Gwinne soberly.
"There! What did I tell you, you old hunk of Limburger?" Hobby Lulllaid hands delicately upon his adversary's short gray beard and tuggedit with deferential gentleness. The unresisting head wagged sedatelyto and fro. "Take that, you old bug hunter!" said Hobby, and stoodback, waiting.
The assayer became statuesque.
"You see, Mister Deputy? He has assauldt gommitted, and you a witnessare. With abusive language!"
"The wienerwurst is yet to come," observed Lull, in a voice sepulchraland ominous.
"With threats also, and insults--abandoned ruffian! Desperate!Catiline! Officer--do your duty! I make demand of you. Dake dot moninto gustody!" Preisser's eyes were dancing as he fought down a grin.
Mr. Gwinne regarded the impassioned disputants with grave eyes.
"You are under arrest, Mr. Lull," he said with somber officialseverity. "Can you give bail?"
"Not one red cent."
"Come in, then."
Lull followed through the door. Turning, he smiled back at the littleassayer. Preisser winked.
"I'll have to lock you up, you know," said Gwinne. "District attorneyparticularly desired that no one should hold communication with Dines,over yonder." He locked Lull in a cell; forgetfully leaving the key inthe lock. "Don't try to shout across to Dines, now," he warned. "I'llhear you. Well, I'll be meanderin' along to the kitchen and startingsupper."
Hobby reached through the bars and turned the key. He went over toJohnny's cell.
"Well, Dines, how goes it? You don't look much downhearted."
"I'm not," said Johnny. "I'm sorry about the dead man, of course. ButI didn't know him, and you can't expect me to feel like you do. I'mright as rain--but I can't say as much for you. You look like you'dbeen dragged through a knothole."
"No sleep. I went back to Garfield, made medicine, and hurried backhere. Seventy-five miles now, after a day's work and not much sleepthe night before. I thought you'd be having your prelim, you see, orI'd have waited over. Didn't know that Judge Hinkle was out of town."
"Any news?"
"Yes," said Hobby, "there is."
He held out his hand. Johnny took it, through
the bars.
"You don't think I killed your friend, then?"
"I know you didn't. But, man--we can't prove it. Not one scrap ofevidence to bring into court. Just a sensing and a hunch--against aplain, straight, reasonable story, with three witnesses. You are It."
"Now you can't sometimes most always ever tell," said Johnny."Besides, you're tired out. Get you a chair and tell it to me. I'vebeen asleep. Also, you and I have had some few experiences not incommon before our trails crossed yesterday. I may do a little sensingmyself. Tell it to me."
"Well, after Caney's crowd told us Adam was killed in Redgate, UnclePete and a bunch went up there hotfoot. They found everything justabout as Caney told it. There was your track, with one shoe gone, andAdam's horse with the bridle dragging--till he broke it off--"
"And where those two tracks crossed," interrupted Johnny, "thosefellows had ridden over the trail till you couldn't tell which was ontop."
Hobby stared.
"How did you know that? Uncle Pete was all worked up over it. I neverheard him so powerful before, on any subject."
"You're tired out, so you can't see straight," said Johnny. "Also, Iknow that when I came down Redgate there were no fresh tracks headingthis way. If those three men killed Forbes and want to saw it off onme--then they confused that trail on purpose. If they didn't killForbes, and muddled the tracks that way, they're half-wits. Andthey're not half-wits. Go on."
"They found poor old Adam and your fire. They pushed on ahead to readall the sign they could before dark. Up in the park there'd been aheap of riding back and forth. Just at dark they found where a bunchof cattle had been headed and had gone over the divide into Deadmanand gone on down. Then the rain came--and the rest is mud."
"Yes. It rained. There was a little low gap to the north from where Ibranded my calf. If anybody had been there making tracks--those cattlewould blot 'em out." Johnny began to laugh. "Look, _amigo_--all thisdope seems fairly reasonable and nightmareish, turn about, as we seeit across thirty miles and twenty-four hours--but it is a safe guessthat some folks didn't sleep much last night. They know all about it,and I reckon when they got to thinking it over it seemed to them likethe whole story was printed in letters a mile high. Scared? I guessyes. I'd hate to trade places with 'em right now. And before itrained--oh, mamma! I bet they was tickled to see that rain! Well, goon. Proceed. Give us some more."
"The further I go the less you'll like it," said Lull. "Pete andhis hand-picked posse stayed up there and scattered out at daylight,for general results. They found one of Adam's cows with a bigfresh-branded calf--branded yesterday. Dines, you're up againstit--hard! It's going to look black to any jury. That calf carried yourbrand--T-Tumble-T!"
"'Hellfire and damnation--make my bed soon!'" said Johnny. "The boystood on the burning deck, With neither high nor low! The Sons ofZeruiah!... Ho, warder! Pull up the drawstring! Let the portcrayonfall! Melt down the largess, fling out the pendulum to the breeze, andhowl the battle cry of Dines!"
Hobby's gaunt features relaxed to a laugh.
"You silly ass! And the rope on your very neck! And what is the battlecry of Dines, if I may ask?"
"Only two out!" said Johnny Dines. He flung up his head; his hawk'sface was beautiful.
"Good boy!" said Hobby Lull. "Good boy! You never shot AdamForbes--not in the back. You hold your mouth right. It isn't so bad,Dines. I wanted to see how you'd take it. I know you now. There's moreto come. You live a long way from here, with roughs and the riverbetween. We've never seen any of your cattle. But we looked you up inthe brand book. Your earmark is sharp the right, underslope the left.That yearling's ears are marked sharp the left, underslope the right.
"Yes. And I knew that without looking at the brand book," said Johnny."They've overplayed their hand. Any more?"
"One thing more. Nothing to put before a jury--but it fits with aframe-up. This morning, Uncle Pete scouted round beyond where theyquit the trail at dark. He found locations where Weir and Caney andHales struck rich placer yesterday. A big thing--coarse gold. It wasnatural enough that they didn't tell us. For that matter, theymentioned prospecting along with their saddle-thieves' hunt. Youheard 'em tell Gwinne about the saddle thieves last night. But--AdamForbes was prospecting too. That's what he went up there for. Caney,Weir and Hales--any one of them has just the face of a man to turnlead into gold. There's a motive for you--a possible motive."
"More than possible. Let me think!" Johnny nursed his knee. He sawagain the cool dark windings of Redgate, the little branding fire, thebrushy pass low above him--where a foe might lurk--himself and Forbes,clear outlined on the hillside, the letter Forbes had given him.
"H'm!" he said. "H'm! Exactly!" With a thoughtful face, he chanted amerry little stave:
_The soapweed rules over the plain, And the brakeman is lord of the train, The prairie dog kneels On the back of his heels, Still patiently praying for rain._
"Say, Mr. Lull, isn't it a queer lay to have the county seat inland,not on the railroad at all, like Hillsboro?"
"That's easy. Hillsboro was the county seat before there was anyrailroad."
"Oh--that way? And how do you get your mail at Garfield? Does thatcome from Hillsboro?"
"No. Hillsboro is the closest post office, but our mail goes toRincon. There's the river, you see, and no bridge. A letter takes twodays and a hundred miles to get from Garfield to Hillsboro--and it'sonly twenty-five miles straight across in low water."
"I see," said Johnny.
Again he visioned the scene on the hillside, the fire, Adam Forbes,the location papers he was to mail; he remembered Toad Hales and hisattempted betrayal of the horse camp guest; he remembered Jody Weir'sletter to Hillsboro, and how it was to be delivered. Jody Weir--andthe girl in Hillsboro post office--steady, Johnny--steady, boy! Evenso, Jody Weir could keep those location papers from reaching therecorder!
The whole black business became clear and sure to him. And in thatsame flaming moment he knew that he could not clear himself by shamingthis light lady--that he had never seen or known. To shield her faultor folly, he must take his chance. He looked up and spread out hishands.
"No go, Mr. Lull!" he said cheerfully. "Much obliged to you--and hereis gear enough for a cuckoo clock, but I can't make it tick. Surmiseand suspicion. Not one fact to lay hands on. Something may come out inthe trial, of course. Looks like both ends against the middle, don'tit? When dry weather keeps you poor and a rain hangs you? Tough luck!Alas, poor Johnny! I knew him well!"
So far his iron fortunes had brought him--to the shadow of thegallows. There, beset with death and shame, with neck and name on theventure, he held his head high, and kept his honor spotless. Welldone, Johnny Dines! Well played, our side!
* * * * *
There is somewhat which must be said here. Doubtless it is badArt--whatever that means--but it is a thing to be done. It is chargedto me that I suppress certain sorry and unsavory truths when I putremembered faces to paper--that I pick the best at their best, andshield with silence their hours of shame and weakness--these men Iloved. Well--it is true. I take my own risk by that; but for them, itis what they have deserved. It is what Johnny Dines did for KittySeiber.
* * * * *
"Well, that's about all," said Hobby. "Uncle Pete is still skirmishinground. Adam had a tame tank somewhere close by, and Pete thinks he mayfind some more light on the case, there or somewheres else. If youdon't think of anything more I guess I'll go down to the Gans Hoteland sleep a day or two. Nobody knows where See is. He may beasleep--and then again he may be up to some devilment."
"From what I could hear a while ago," said Johnny, grinning hugely, "Ithought you were a prisoner."
"I am," said Hobby.
He went to a window at the end of the big hall and looked out.Hillsboro is generously planned, and spreads luxuriously over morehills than Rome. This is for two reasons: First, there was plenty ofroom, no need to crowd; second, and
with more of the causativeelement, those hills were rich in mineral, and were dotted thick withshaft and tunnel between the scattered homes.
Several shafts were near the jail. On the nearest one Mr. Preisserdiligently examined the ore dump. Hobby whistled. Mr. Preisser lookedup. Hobby waved his hat. Preisser waved back and started toward thejail. Hobby returned to his cell and locked himself in. Mr. Preisserthundered at the jail door.
"Well?" said Gwinne, answering the summons.
"I have been thinking about the criminal, Lull," said Mr. Preisser,beaming. "Considering his tender years and that he is nod fullygompetent and responsible mentally--I have decided nod to bress thecharge against him. You may let him go, now."
"Oh, very well," said Gwinne.
He went to the cell--without remark concerning the key in thelock--and set the prisoner free. His face kept a heavy seriousness;there was no twinkle in his eye. Assailant and victim went arm in armdown the hill.
* * * * *
Mr. Charlie See came softly to Hillsboro jail through the velvetnight. He did not come the front way; he came over the hill after awearisome detour. He approached the building on the blind side,cautiously as any cat, and crouched to listen in the shadow of thewall. After a little he began a slow voyage of discovery. At the rearof the building a broad shaft of light swept out across the hill. Thiswas the kitchen. See heard Gwinne's heavy tread, and the cheerfulsplutterings of beefsteak. Then he heard a dog within; a dog thatscratched at the door with mutter and whine.
"Down, Diogenes!" growled Gwinne; and raised his voice in a roaringchorus:
"_And he sunk her in the lonesome lowland low-- And he sunk her in the lowland sea!_"
Charlie retraced his steps to the corner and the friendly shadows. Hecrept down the long blank side of the jail, pausing from time to timeto listen; hearing nothing. He turned the corner to the other end. Adim light showed from an unwindowed grating. The investigator stood ona slope and the window place was high. Reaching up at full stretch, heseized the bars with both hands, stepped his foot on an uneven stoneof the foundation, and so pulled himself up to peer in--and foundhimself nose to nose with Johnny Dines.
The prisoner regarded his visitor without surprise.
"Good evening," he observed politely.
"Good eve--Oh, hell! Say, I ought to bite your nose off--you and yourgood evening! Look here, fellow--are you loose in there?"
"Oh, yes. But the outer door's locked."
"Well, by gracious, you'd better be getting to thunder out of this!You haven't a chance. You're a gone goose. You ought to hear the talkI've heard round town. They're going to hang you by the neck!"
"Well, why not--if I did that?" inquired Johnny, reasonably enough.They spoke in subdued undertones.
"But I know damn well you didn't do it."
The rescuer spoke with some irritation; he was still startled. Johnnyshook his head thoughtfully.
"The evidence was pretty strong--what I heard of it, anyhow."
"I guess, by heck, I know a frame-up when I see it. Say, what the hellare you talking about? You wild ass of the desert! Think I got nothingto do but hang on here by my eyelashes and argue with you? One morebreak like that and down goes your meat house--infernal fool! Listen!There's a mining shaft right over here--windlass with a ratchet wheeland a pawl. I can hook that windlass rope on these bars and yank 'emout in a jiffy. If the bars are too stubborn I'll strain the ropetight as ever I can and then pour water on it. That'll fetch 'em;won't make much noise, either, I judge. Not now--your jailer man willbe calling you to supper in a minute. Maybe we'd better wait till hegoes to sleep--or will he lock you up? Fellow, what you want to do isgo. You can make Old Mexico to-morrow. I'll side you if you say so.I've got nothing to keep me here."
"Now ain't that too bad--and I always wanted to go to Mexico, too,"said Johnny wistfully. "But I reckon I can't make it this riffle. Yousee, this old rooster has treated me pretty white--not locked me up,and everything. I wouldn't like to take advantage of it. Come to thinkof it, I told him I wouldn't."
"Well, say!" Charlie stopped, at loss for words. "I get your idea--butman, they'll hang you!"
"I'm sorry for that, too," said Johnny regretfully. "But you see howit is. I haven't any choice. Much obliged, just the same." Then hisface brightened. "Wait! Wait a minute. Let me think. Look now--ifGwinne locks me up in a cell, bimeby--why, you might come round andhave another try, later on. That will be different."
"I'll go you once on that," returned the rescuer eagerly. "Which isyour cell?"
"Why, under the circumstances it wouldn't be just right to tellyou--would it, now?" said the prisoner, doubtfully. "I reckon you'llhave to project round and find that out for yourself."
"Huh!" snorted Charlie See.
"Of course if I make a get-away it looks bad--like admitting themurder. On the other hand, if I'm hanged, my friends would always hateit. So there we are. On the whole, I judge it would be best to go.Say, Gwinne'll be calling me to chuck. Reckon I better beat him to it.You run on, now, and roll your hoop. I'll be thinking it over.G'night!"
His face disappeared from the embrasure. Charlie See retiredIndian-fashion to the nearest cover, straightened up, and wandereddiscontentedly down the hill to Hillsboro's great white way.
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