White Wolf's Law: A Western Story

by Hal Dunning

  CHAPTER XXIV

  THE WOLF CALL

  Dot Reed, Treadwell, and McAllister headed toward old Miser Jimpson'stumble-down house.

  "Yuh mean to say that I may lose my ranch?" she asked anxiously.

  "No, I didn't say quite that," Spur hastened to explain. "But thingsare in a mess, and while I, bein' your guardian, perhaps have the rightto decide without your consent, I thought it better to have it allexplained to yuh an' then have both of us decide what's best."

  Bill McAllister shook his head. He was floundering in deep waters. Hedistrusted Spur, yet apparently everything the man did was aboveboard.He could not see how Spur could be blamed for the present tangled messof the financial affairs of the Double R Ranch. He had seemingly donewhat he could to straighten them out.

  The three turned into the gateless fence that surrounded old MiserJimpson's house and passed into a dingy, shabby room where they foundthree men--Jimpson, One-wing McCann, and a small, dapper man, named W.A. Raine, waiting for them.

  "Miss Reed, this is Mr. Raine, who represents the Wilton County Bank.Yuh know the other two gents. The Double R Ranch owes them all money,"Spur said to the girl.

  Dot Reed smiled at One-wing and old Miser and shook hands with Raine.He was forty-five, with quick, nervous movements. He had keen blueeyes. After studying him, Bill McAllister decided that he was not onlyclever, but honest as well.

  "Miss Reed, I may as well try to explain to you briefly the bank'sposition," Raine said briskly, as soon as Dot had seated herself. "Thebank holds a mortgage of twenty thousand dollars on the Double R. Weare not pressing you for money at this time, but a sight note of twelvethousand dollars has been handed us for collection. Now, we alsounderstand that you are indebted to Mr. McCann for ten thousand more,making a total of forty-two thousand dollars."

  "But surely the buildings, the water rights, and the Double R cattleare worth that!" Dot protested.

  "If you had asked me that six months ago, I would have replied thatthey were worth three times that, without question. But, Miss Reed, youmust remember that a bank loans other people's money, so they have totake every care to protect it. And it has come to our ears that youhave severely suffered from rustlers, so if the man who holds the sightnote for twelve thousand insists on immediate payment, and unless youcan prove that you have sufficient cattle to satisfy all claims, thebank, which has the first claim, will be forced to start foreclosureproceedings," Raine explained.

  "Then what am I goin' to do?" Dot asked, bewildered.

  "Don't worry, Dot. I think they'll find there's enough cows to satisfyevery one," Spur Treadwell encouraged her, as he patted her shoulder.

  "Who is this man who has this call note?" Bill McAllister demanded.

  "Who do yuh suppose he'd be?" Spur replied, as he looked contemptuouslyat Miser Jimpson.

  "'Tain't me, but a client of mine back in Chicago," the old misersquealed.

  "I'm bettin', like I tol' yuh the other day, that if yuh wrote to him,he would be willin' to wait, but yuh see a way of makin' a few dollarsso yuh refuse," growled Spur, towering over the old man.

  "Can't yuh do that?" Dot pleaded.

  "No I can't. I tol' this client to lend his money to your dad when heneeded it to buy them Crossbar Double A cows, because the security wasgood then. Now I don't think it good no more, I have to tell him tocall his loan." Jimpson spoke with a touch of malice in his voice.

  "If Miss Reed will supply the necessary men I will arrive at the DoubleR to-morrow and make an estimate of the number of cattle on her ranch.We'll hope for the best, and if these rumors are false, why, the bankwill take up the note held by Mr. Jimpson's client," Raine said.

  "Of course, yuh can have all the men yuh want," Dot told him. Then shefaltered. "And--if--if----Then the bank will foreclose?"

  It was easy to see that Raine found himself in a difficult andunpleasant position and that he disliked his task.

  "I'm afraid I will have to advise them to do that," he said.

  "My client is willing to buy the ranch," Jimpson sputtered.

  "So that's it, yuh rat!" Bill McAllister growled as he steppedthreateningly toward the leering old man.

  "I have a good mind to sic the twins on yuh," Spur Treadwell saidcoldly.

  Dot Reed faced old Miser Jimpson, and he seemed more affected by thescorn in her eyes than by Spur's threat.

  "An' what will this precious client of yours offer?" she asked coldly.

  "He will assume all indebtedness an' pay yuh twenty thousand cash."

  "He's darn generous. The ranch is worth five times that. Yuh can tellthis client of yours that Miss Reed refuses his offer," Spur Treadwellcried.

  "Miss Reed, I hope yuh understand that I am not pressing yuh," One-wingMcCann assured her, as she moved toward the door.

  Out in the street, she turned to Bill McAllister and Spur Treadwell.

  "I want to thank yuh for the way yuh stood back of me," she murmured.

  Bill McAllister grumbled an unintelligible reply, cast a searching lookat Treadwell, and then walked slowly toward the livery stable to securethe team and buckboard. He racked his brains, but could not discoverthe negro in the woodpile. Nor could he in any way decide how Spur wasconcerned or responsible in the remotest way for the present situation.

  Another problem troubled him. How were the rustlers disposing of theirstolen stock? The Double R range had been robbed wholesale, and BillMcAllister had learned through the Cattlemen's Association that nolarge herds that were not absolutely bona fide had been sold. Yet therustlers must get their stock out some way.

  McAllister shook his head and commenced to harness the two horses. Hewas brought out of his meditations by a low voice close to him.

  "Yuh Mr. McAllister?"

  He nodded.

  "My handle is Toothpick Jarrick. I got a message for Jim. Yuh tell himthat me an' a couple of his friends has the jasper he wants. We camp upthe dry wash tother side of Hog Butte. Tell him to come an' do hisbarkin'--we'll be watchin'."

  Bill McAllister stared. His mind raced backward, and he realized themeaning of this strange message.

  "Yuh mean yuh got Squint Lane?" His voice was husky with eagerness.

  "Yep, we sure has. I gets his telegram, collects a coupla friends, an'go collect this Squint person. They thinks a lot of Jim down Cannondaleway, so they arranges for a box car hitched to a train for the ThreeRoads Junction. We piles in, hosses an' all, an' a good time is had byall 'cept this Squint person, who is sufferin' some, both bodily an'mental torment. We gets to the junction yesterday, rides to a suitableplace, an' then I comes lookin' for Jim."

  Suddenly he raised his voice.

  "Mister, I'm tellin' yuh I ride pronto; this here town is too dead forme," he cried, as the hostler appeared in the doorway.

  Bill McAllister was in a fever of impatience to pass on the news ofSquint's capture to Jim Allen, as he rode back to the Double R thatafternoon with Dot Reed. He sighed with relief when he saw thediminutive outlaw trooping toward the cookhouse with the other ridersto answer the supper call.

  Allen had been assigned to night riding the cavvy, and it was hiscustom to go there each night with Snoots Stevens, change his saddle toone of the grays, and then leave for parts unknown. Bill McAllisterbolted his food and then rode out to intercept Allen. It was shortlyafter dusk when Allen and Snoots rode up to where Bill awaited them.The old-timer drew Allen aside and hastily told him the news.

  They rode forward to the pasture, and Allen whistled for Honeyboy. Thegreat stallion cantered up, and the outlaw swiftly changed saddles.

  They gave Snoots certain orders and rode away through the night. Theyleft behind them the most curious cow-puncher in Texas.

  For the first four or five miles the two rode in complete silence, asthere was danger of encountering some of the men assigned to nightriding. They passed no riders, and McAllister swore to himself when herealized that they were crossing the best part of t
he range and that itshould have been covered with bedded cattle--yet they passed scarcely ahundred head.

  After they had left the danger zone behind, McAllister told Allen ofwhat had taken place in town that afternoon. The little outlaw listenedin silence.

  "Yuh say this here ol' Miser gent didn't scare none when Spur talked ofputtin' the twins on him?" he asked, when the older man had finishedhis tale.

  "Not any--but he sure colored aplenty when Dot looked scornful at him,"the other replied.

  Allen made no further remark.

  "A gent like him don't usually have nerve, but Spur didn't scare himworth a cent," McAllister said, after a time.

  "That ain't no sign he's got nerve," Allen said carelessly.

  Again they rode in silence.

  "Drat him," McAllister grumbled to himself, "I ain't the kind of gentwhat loves to hear my own voice, but that darn little half pint nevertalks a-tall unless he's pryin' somethin' loose from the back of yourhead that yuh forgot yourself."

  After they had covered some fifteen miles across the broken flats,McAllister suddenly realized that it was Allen who was doing theguiding. In that black night it would have been necessary for him tostop occasionally and peer about for some landmarks, but Allen made hisway across arroyos, through clumps of brush, with the sure instinct ofa homing animal.

  "Reckon they're here somewheres," Allen said as their horses' hoofsrang on the stones of a dry wash.

  McAllister grunted, then he jumped and swore, for directly beside him awolf mourned his lonely cry. Once, twice, three times it rang out inthe night.

  "Darn yuh, Jim, no wonder they calls yuh the Wolf, if yuh bark likethat. Darn me, I sure thinks a big lobo is gettin' ready to jump me,"McAllister complained.

  He saw Allen's teeth flash in the darkness. Then ahead of them therecame an answer.

  "Gosh, yuh got a real wolf answerin' yuh!"

  "Yuh didn't tell me Jack was with Toothpick," Allen cried.

  A short time before, McAllister had complained at the matter-of-factway Allen had taken what he thought was exciting news, but now Allen'svoice quivered like that of a man who has just been reprieved from thescaffold.

  "Hell, Honeyboy--get along there some--don't yuh know your ol' boss?"

  In response, the scrawny gray hurled itself up the wash. McAllisterurged his horse up after the gray, but was rapidly outdistanced, forHoneyboy sped up the wash, with its treacherous footing, as rapidly asmost horses could have run over a smooth plain in the daylight.

  McAllister was still some hundred yards from the small fire aroundwhich he saw three men standing, when Allen brought his gray to asliding stop and sprang from the saddle and landed on top of one ofthem. When McAllister arrived, he saw the two engaged in what appeareda desperate struggle; and all the time both contestants hurled the mostblood-curdling oaths at each other. He stared at them in amazement.They whirled this way and that. The other man was no larger than Allen,but looked years older, because of the heavy beard that covered hisface. Little by little, the other bested Allen, and, finally pinninghim down on his face, planted both heels in the small of Allen's back.

  "Yuh got enough?" he panted.

  "Yep," grunted Allen.

  The two arose to their feet and stood breathing deeply for a moment.Then Allen turned to McAllister.

  "That there long galoot is Toothpick; reckon yuh met him afore. Theother gent by the fire is Silent Moore, who is plumb ignorant an' can'ttalk, an' this here is my brother, Jack, who is the dickens on hossthieves, rustlers----"

  "Hoss thieves! Ain't yuh one yourself? Didn't yuh steal Honeyboy fromme?" Jack Allen interrupted Jim's flow of words.

  Toothpick chuckled and Silent Moore grinned.

  "Hello, Jim. Darn me, but I'm plumb glad to see yuh," Toothpick greeted.

  "'Lo, yuh little devil," Silent mumbled.

  Bill McAllister knew that here were two men who would willingly die ata nod from Jim Allen.

  "Where's this Squint person?" Jim Allen asked.

  Toothpick led the way to where Squint Lane lay flat on his back beneatha tree. He was of medium height, with a big, loose mouth, a pug nose,and eyes like those of a Chinaman. He was snoring, and Jim Allen lookedquestioningly at Toothpick.

  "We had to get him drunk afore he would come with us, so we figgered itwould be best to keep him that way. He's been ossified for five daysnow," Toothpick explained joyfully.

  "But he can't tell us nothin' now," Bill McAllister complained.

  "I can sober him pronto," Jack Allen volunteered.

  "I bet yuh could! Yuh got experience runnin' poor drunks to thehoosegow an' then maltreatin' 'em. But I figgers we better try apsy-cho-log-ical experiment on him." Allen grinned, first at hisbrother and then at Toothpick.

  "Gents, I has erudition, so I'll elucidate what this herepsy-cho-log-ical thing is. It's to do with the mind," Toothpickexplained, delighted at the opportunity to use a few long words whichhe devoutly hoped no one else understood.

  "A professor gent once tol' me that a hombre suffers a heap more fromwhat he imagines is goin' to happen than from what does, so we'll tryit on Squint," Jim Allen told them.

  He quickly explained what he had in mind, and then the five retreatedto the fire and brewed fresh coffee. Later, he told them what he wishedto learn from Squint as to the situation at the Double R Ranch. He keptmost of his suspicions to himself.

  "I heard tell of 'em twins--watch 'em," Jack Allen warned.

  Jim Allen hardly listened to the discussion which followed. Jack Allenoccasionally volunteered a shrewd opinion; Silent emitted severalgrunts; but Toothpick talked continuously. That night Bill McAllisterhad a man who would talk and argue endlessly about Spur Treadwell'splans. Before he and McAllister returned to the ranch, Jim gaveexplicit directions as to where the three would find Slivers Hart. Itwas arranged that Jack Allen was to go for him, as the wolf call wasthe signal of a friend. Besides, Jack Allen had met Slivers up inGoldville.