CHAPTER IX
MURDER IN THE CHAPARRAL
To Jack Roberts, engaged at the Delmonico restaurant in the seriousbusiness of demolishing a steak smothered in onions, came Pedro Menendezwith a strange story of a man lying dead in the rim-rock, a bullet-holein the back of his head.
The Mexican _vaquero_ came to his news haltingly. He enveloped it inmystery. There was a dead man lying at the foot of Battle Butte, out inthe rim-rock country, and there was this wound in the back of his head.That was all. Pedro became vague at once as to detail. He took refuge inshrugs and a poor memory when the Ranger pressed him in regard to thesource of his information.
Roberts knew the ways of the Mexicans. They would tell what they wantedto tell and no more. He accepted the news given him and for the momentdid not push his questions home.
For twenty-four hours the Ranger had been in the saddle, and he wasexpecting to turn in for a round-the-clock sleep. But Pedro's talechanged his mind. Captain Ellison was at Austin, Lieutenant Hawley atTascosa. Regretfully Roberts gave up his overdue rest and orderedanother cup of strong coffee. Soon he was in the saddle again with afresh horse under him.
The Panhandle was at its best. Winter snows and spring rains had set itblooming. The cacti were a glory of white, yellow, purple, pink, andscarlet blossoms. The white, lilylike flowers of the Spanish bayonetflaunted themselves everywhere. Meadowlarks chirruped gayly andprairie-hens fluttered across the path in front of the rider.
Battle Butte had received its name from an old tradition of an Indianfight. Here a party of braves had made a last stand against anoverwhelming force of an enemy tribe. It was a flat mesa rising sharplyas a sort of bastion from the rim-rock. The erosions of centuries hadgiven it an appearance very like a fort.
Jack skirted the base of the butte. At the edge of a clump of pricklypear he found the evidence of grim tragedy which the circling buzzardshad already warned him to expect. He moved toward it very carefully, inorder not to obliterate any footprints. The body lay face down in ahuddled heap, one hand with outstretched finger reaching forth like asign-post. A bullet-hole in the back of the head showed how the man hadcome to his death. He had been shot from behind.
The Ranger turned the body and recognized it as that of RutherfordWadley. The face was crushed and one of the arms broken. It was an easyguess that the murder had been done on the butte above and the bodyflung down.
Jack, on all fours, began to quarter over the ground like a bloodhoundseeking a trail. Every sense in him seemed to quicken to the hunt. Hisalert eyes narrowed in concentration. His fingertips, as he creptforward, touched the sand soft as velvet. His body was tense as a coiledspring. No cougar stalking its prey could have been more lithely wary.
For the Ranger had found a faint boot-track, and with amazing pains hewas following this delible record of guilt. Some one had come here andlooked at the dead body. Why? To make sure that the victim was quitedead? To identify the victim? Roberts did not know why, but he meant tofind out.
The footprint was alone. Apparently none led to it or led from it. Onthat one impressionable spot alone had been written the signature of aman's presence.
But "Tex" Roberts was not an old plainsman for nothing. He knew that ifhe were patient enough he would find other marks of betrayal.
He found a second track--a third, and from them determined a course tofollow. It brought him to a stretch of soft ground at the edge of awash. The footprints here were sharp and distinct. They led up an arroyoto the bluff above.
The Ranger knelt dose to the most distinct print and studied it for along time. All its details and peculiarities were recorded in his mind.The broken sole, the worn heel, the beveled edge of the toe-cap--allthese fastened themselves in his memory. With a tape-line he measuredminutely the length of the whole foot, of the sole and of the heel.These he jotted down in his notebook, together with cross-sections ofwidth. He duplicated this process with the best print he could find ofthe left foot.
His investigation led him next to the summit of the bluff. A littlestain of blood on a rock showed him where Wadley had probably beenstanding when he was shot. The murder might have been done by treacheryon the part of one of his companions. If so, probably the bullet hadbeen fired from a revolver. In that case the man who did it would havemade sure by standing close behind his victim. This would have leftpowder-marks, and there had been none around the wound. The chances werethat the shooting had been done from ambush, and if this was a trueguess, it was a fair deduction that the assassin had hidden behind thepoint of rocks just back of the bluff. For he could reach that point byfollowing the rim-rock without being seen by his victim.
Roberts next studied the ground just back of the point of rocks. Thesoil here was of disintegrated granite, so that there were nofootprints to betray anybody who might have been hidden there. But Jackpicked up something that was in its way as decisive as what he had beenseeking. It was a cartridge that had been ejected from a '73[1] rifle.The harmless bit of metal in his hand was the receptacle from whichdeath had flashed across the open toward Ford Wadley.
At the foot of the rim-rock the Ranger found signs where horses had beenleft. He could not at first make sure whether there were three or four.From that spot he back-tracked for miles along the edge of the rim-rocktill he came to the night-camp where Wadley had met the outlaws. This,too, he studied for a long time.
He had learned a good deal, but he did not know why Ford Wadley had beenshot. The young fellow had not been in Texas more than six or eightmonths, and he could not have made many enemies. If he had nothing abouthim worth stealing--and in West Texas men were not in the habit ofcarrying valuables--the object could not have been robbery.
He rode back to Battle Butte and carried to town with him the body ofthe murdered man. There he heard two bits of news, either of which mightserve as a cause for the murder: Young Wadley had quarreled with TonyAlviro at a dance and grossly insulted him; Arthur Ridley had beenrobbed of six thousand dollars by masked men while on his way toTascosa.
Ranger Roberts decided that he would like to have a talk with Tony.
[Footnote 1: The '73 rifle was not a seventy-three-caliber weapon, butwas named from the year it was got out. Its cartridges could be used fora forty-four revolver.]
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