by Rex Beach
CHAPTER IX
Glass had gone to the cowboys' sleeping-quarters in search of hisemployer, and was upon the point of leaving when the delegationfiled in. He regarded them with careless contempt, and removedhis clay pipe to exclaim, cheerfully:
"B--zoo gents! Where's my protege?"
"I don't know. Where did you have it last?"
"I mean Speed, my trainin' partner. That's a French word."
"Oh! We just left him."
"Think I'll hunt him up."
"Wait a minute." Willie came forward. "Let's talk."
"All right. We'll visit. Let her go, professor."
"You've been handlin' him for quite a spell, haven't you?"
"Sure! It's my trainin' that put him where he is. Ask him if itain't."
"Then he's a good athlete, is he?"
"Is he good? Huh!" Glass grunted, expressively.
"How fast can he do a hundred yards?"
Larry yawned as if this conversation bored him.
"Oh--about--eight--seconds."
At this amazing declaration Willie paused, as if to thoroughlydigest it.
"Eight seconds!" repeated the little man at length.
"Sure! Depends on how he feels, of course."
Berkeley Fresno, in the corner, snickered audibly, at which thetrainer scowled at him.
"Think he can't do it, eh? Well, he's there four ways from theace."
Seeing no evidence that his statement failed to carry convictionin other quarters at least, Glass went further. It was so easy tostring these simple-minded people that he could not resist thetemptation. "Didn't you never hear about the killin' he made atSaratoga?" he queried.
Willie started, and his hand crept slowly backward along hisbelt. "Killin'! Is that his game?"
"Now, get me right," explained the former speaker. "He breakstrainin', and goes up to Saratoga for a little rest. While he'sthere he wins eight thousand dollars playin' diabolo."
"Playin' what?" queried Stover.
"Diabolo! He backs himself, of course."
Glass took an imaginary spool from his pocket, spun it by meansof an imaginary string, then sent it aloft and pretended to catchit dexterously. The cowboys watched him with grave,uncomprehending eyes.
"He starts with a case five and runs it up to eight thousanddollars, that's all."
Stover uttered an exclamation of astonishment, whereupon the New-Yorker grew even bolder.
"The next week he hops over to Bar Harbor and wins the FurturityPing-pong stakes from scratch. That's worth twenty thousand ifit's worth a lead nickel. Oh, I guess he's there, all right!" Hesearched out a match and relighted his pipe.
"I suppose he's a great croquet-player too," observed Fresno,whose face was purple.
"Sure!" Glass winked at him, glad to see that the Californianenjoyed this kind of sport.
"We don't care nothin' about his skill at sleight-of-handtricks," said the man in spectacles, seriously. "And we wouldn'thold his croquet habits agin him. Some men drink, some gamble,some do worse; every man has his weakness, and croquet may behis. What we want to know is this: can he win our phonograph?"
"Surest thing you know!"
"Then you vouch for him, do you?" Willie's eyes were bent uponthe fat man with a look of searching gravity that warned Glassnot to temporize.
"With my life!" exclaimed the trainer.
"You're on!" said the cowboy, with unexpected grimness.
"What d'you mean?"
But before the other could explain, Berkeley Fresno, who had sunkweakly into a chair at Larry's extravagant praise of his rival,afforded a diversion. The tenor had leaned back, convulsed withenjoyment when, losing his balance, he came to the floor with acrash. The sudden sound brought a terrifying result, for with astartled cry the undersized cow-man leaped as if touched by aliving flame. Like a flash of light he whirled and poised on histoes, his long, evil-looking revolver drawn and cocked, his tenseface vulturelike and fierce. His eyes glared through hisspectacles, his livid features worked as if at the sound of hisown death-call. His whole frame was tense; a galvanic current hadtransformed him. His weapon darted toward the spot whence thenoise had come, and he would have fired blindly had not Stoveryelled:
"Don't shoot!"
Willie paused, and the breath crept audibly into his lungs.
"Who done that?" he asked, harshly.
Still Bill brought his lanky frame up above the level of thetable.
"God 'lmighty! don't be so sudden, Willie!" he cried. "It was aaccident."
But the gun man seemed unconvinced. With cat-like tread he stolecautiously to the door, and stared out into the sunlight; then,seeing nobody in sight, he replaced his weapon in its resting-place and sighed with relief.
"I thought it was the marshal from Waco," he said. "He'll nevergit me alive."
Stover addressed himself to Fresno, who had gone pale, and wasstill prostrate where he had fallen.
"Get up, Mr. Berkeley, but don't make no more moves like thatbehind a man's back. He most got you."
Fresno arose in a daze and mopped his brow, murmuring, weakly,"I-I didn't mean to."
Carara and Mr. Cloudy came out from cover whither they had fledat Willie's first movement. "I dreamed about that feller aginlast night," apologized the little man. "I'm sort of nervous, andany sudden noise sets me off."
As for Glass, that corpulent individual had disappeared as ifinto thin air; only a stir in one of the bunks betrayed hishiding-place. At the first sight of Willie's revolver he haddived for a refuge and was now flattened against the wall, apillow pressed over his head to deaden the expected report.
"Hey!" called the foreman, but Glass did not hear him.
"Seems to be gun-shy," observed Willie, gently.
Stover crossed to the bunk and laid a hand upon the occupant, atwhich a convulsion ran through the trainer's soft body, and itbecame as rigid as if locked in death. "Come out, Mr. Glass, it'sall over."
Larry muttered in a stifled voice, "Go 'way!"
"It was a mistake."
He opened his tight-shut lids, rolled over, and thrust forth around, pallid face. He saw Stover laughing, and beheld the whiteteeth of Carara, the Mexican, who said:
"Perhaps the Senor is sleepy!"
Finding himself the object of what seemed to him a particularlysenseless joke, the New-Yorker crept forth, his face suffusedwith anger. Strangely enough, he still retained the pipe in hisfingers.
"Say, are youse guys tryin' to kid me?" he demanded, roughly. Nowthat no firearm was in sight, he was master of himself again; andseeing the cause of his undignified alarm leaning against thetable, he stepped toward him threateningly. "If you try thatagain, young feller, I'll chip you on the jaw, and give you along, dreamy nap." He thrust a short, square fist under Willie'snose.
That scholarly gentleman straightened up, and edged his way toone side, Glass following aggressively.
"You're a husky, ain't you?" said the little man, squinting up atthe red face above him. "Am I?" Glass snorted. "Take a goodlook!" With deliberate menace he bumped violently into the other.It was with difficulty he could restrain himself from crushinghim.
Stover gasped and retreated, while Carara crossed himself, thensidled back of a bunk. Mr. Cloudy stepped silently out throughthe open door and held his thumbs.
"You start to kid me and I'll wallop you--"
"_One moment!_" Willie was transfigured suddenly. An instantsince he had been a stoop-shouldered, short-sighted,insignificant person, more gentle mannered than a child, but in aflash he became a palpitating fury: an evil atom surcharged withsuch terrific venom that his antagonist drew back involuntarily."Don't you make no threat'nin' moves in my direction, or you'llgo East in an ice-bath!" He was panting as if the effort to holdhimself in leash was almost more than he could stand.
"G'wan!" said Glass, thickly.
"You're deluded with the idea that the Constitution made all menequal, but it didn't; it was Mr. Colt." With a movement quickerthan light the speaker drew
his gun for the second time, andburied half the barrel in the New-Yorker's ribs.
"_Look out!_" Glass barked the words, and undertook todeflect the weapon with his hand.
"Let it alone or it'll go off!"
Glass dropped his hand as if it had been burned, and stared downhis bulging front with horrified, fascinated eyes.
"Now, listen. We've stood for you as long as we can. You've madeyour talk and got away with it, but from now on you're workingfor us. We've framed a foot-race, and put up our _panga_because you said you had a champeen. Now, we ain't sayin' youlied--'cause if we thought you had, I'd gut-shoot you here, now."Willie paused, while Glass licked his lips and undertook to framea reply. The black muzzle of the weapon hovering near his heart,however, stupefied him. Mechanically he thrust the stem of hispipe between his lips while Willie continued to glare at himbalefully. "You're boss is a guest, but you ain't. We can talkplain to you."
"Y--yes, of course."
"You said just now you'd answer for him with your life. Well, weaim to make you! We ain't a-goin' to lose this foot-race under nocircumstances whatever, so we give you complete authority overthe body, health, and speed of Mr. Speed. It's up to you to makehim beat that cook."
"S-s-suppose he gets sick or sprains his ankle?" Glass undertookto move his body from in front of the weapon, but it followed himas if magnetized.
"There ain't a-goin' to be no accidents or excuses. It's pay orplay, money at the tape. You're his trainer, and it's your faultif he ain't fit when he toes the mark. Understand?"
Willie lowered the muzzle of his weapon, and fired between thelegs of Glass, who leaped into the air with all the grace of agazelle. It was due to no conscious action on his part that thetrainer leaped; his muscles were stimulated spasmodically, andpropelled him from the floor. At the same time his will was soutterly paralyzed that he had no control over his movements; hedid not even hear the yell that burst from his throat as hislungs contracted; he merely knew that he was in the supremestperil, and that flight was futile. Therefore he undertook tosteady himself. Every tissue of his body seemed to creep andcrawl. The flesh inside his legs was quivering, the close-croppedhair of his thick neck rose and prickled, and his capaciousabdomen throbbed and pulsated like a huge bowl of jelly. He laidhis hands upon it to still the disturbance. Then he becameconscious that he had bitten his pipe-stem in two and swallowedthe end. He felt it sticking in his throat.
"Did you hear what I said?" demanded Willie, in a voice thatsounded like the sawing of a meat bone.
Glass opened his mouth, and when no sound issued, nodded.
"And you understand?"
Again the trainer bobbed his head. The pipe-stem had cut off allpower of speech, and he knew himself dumb for life.
"Then I guess that's all. It's up to you." Willie replaced hisgun, and the fat man threatened to fall. "Come on, boys!" Thecowboys filed out silently, but on the threshold Willie pausedand darted a venomous glance at his enemy. "Don't forget what Isaid about Mr. Colt and the equality of man."
"Yes, sir!--yes, ma'am!" ejaculated the frightened trainer,nervously. When they were gone he collapsed.
"They are rather severe, aren't they?" ventured Fresno.
"Severe!" cried the unhappy man. "Why, Speed can't--" He wasabout to explain everything when the memory of Willie's wordssmote him like a blow. That fiend had threatened to kill him,Lawrence Glass, without preliminary if it became evident that afraud had been practiced. Manifestly this was no place forhysterical confidences. Larry's mouth closed like a trap, whilethe Californian watched him intently. At length he did speak, butin a strangely softened tone, and at utter variance with hiscustom.
"Say, Mr. Fresno! Which direction is New York?"
"That way." Fresno pointed to the east, and the other man staredlongingly out through the bunk-house window.
"It's quite a walk, ain't it?"
"Walk?" Berkeley laughed. "It's two or three thousand miles!"Glass sighed heavily. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh, nothin'. Jest gettin' homesick." He calmed himself with aneffort, entered the gymnasium as if in search of something, andthen set forth to find Speed.
That ecstatic young gentleman wrenched his gaze away from theblue eyes of Miss Blake to see his trainer signalling him fromafar.
"What is it, Lawrence?"
"Got to see you."
"Presently."
"Nix! I got to see you _now!_" Glass's ruddy face wasblotched, and he seemed to rest in the grip of some blightingmalady. Beneath his arm he carried a tight-rolled bundle. Sensingsomething important back of this unusual demeanor, Speed excusedhimself and followed Larry, who did not trust to speech untilthey were alone in the gymnasium with the doors closed. Then heunrolled the bundle he carried, spread it upon the floor, andstepped into its exact centre.
"Are you standing on my prayer-rug?" demanded his companion,angrily.
"I am! And from this on I'm goin' to make it work itself todeath. She said a feller couldn't get hurt if he stood on it andsaid 'Allah.' Well, I'm goin' to wear it out."
"What's wrong?"
"Do you know what's goin' to happen to me if Covington don't gethere and beat this cook?"
"Happen to you?"
"Yes, me! These outlaws have put it up to me to win this bet forthem."
"Well, Covington can beat anybody."
"But Covington isn't here yet."
"Not yet, but--" The young man smiled. "You're not frightened,are you?"
"Scared to death, that's all," acknowledged the other. Then whenhis employer laughed openly, he broke out at a white-heat. "Joke,eh? Well, you'd better have a good laugh while you can, becauseHumpy Joe's finish will be a ten-course dinner to what you'll getif Covington misses his train."
"How easily frightened you are!"
"Yes? Well, any time people start shooting shots I'm too big forthis earth. The hole in a gun looks as big as a gas-tank to me."
"But nobody is going to shoot you!" exclaimed the mystifiedcollege man.
"They ain't, hey? I missed the Golden Stairs by a lip not half anhour ago. I got a pipe-stem crossways in my gullet now, and ittickles." He coughed loudly, then shook his head. "No use; itwon't come up." With feverish intensity he told of his narrowescape from destruction, the memory bringing a sweat of agony tohis brow. "And the worst of it is," he concluded, "I'm 'marked'with guns. I've always been that way."
"Tut! tut! Don't alarm yourself. If Covington shouldn't come, therace will be declared off."
"No chance," announced the trainer, with utter conviction. "Thesethugs have made it pay or play, and the bets are down."
"You know I can't run."
"If he don't come, you'll _have_ to!"
"Absurd! I shall be indisposed."
"If you mean you'll get sick, or sprain an ankle, or break a leg,or kill yourself, guess again. I'm responsible for you now.Something may go wrong with me, that pipe-stem is liable to gimmea cancer, but nothin' is goin' to happen to you. My only chanceto make a live of it is to cough up that clay, and get some oneto outrun this cook. You're the only chance I've got, if Culverdon't show, and the first law of nature ain't never beenrepealed."
"Self-protection, eh?"
"Exactly." Glass coughed thrice without result, stepped off theprayerrug, rolled it up tightly; then, hugging it beneath hisarm, went on: "That four-eyed guy slipped me a whole lot of feed-box information. Why, he's a killer, Wally! And he's got a cash-register to tally his dead."
"Notches on his gun-handle, I suppose?"
"So many that it looks like his wife had used it to hang pictureswith. I tell you, he's the most deceitful rummy I ever seen.What's more, he's got the homicide habit, and the habit has gotits eye on _me_." Glass was in deadly earnest, and his alarmcontrasted so strongly with his former contemptuous attitudetoward the cowboys that Speed was constrained to laugh again.
"It's the most amusing thing I ever heard of."
"Yes," said the trainer, with elaborate sarcasm, "it would beawful funny if it wasn't
on the square." He moistened his lipnervously.
"You alarm yourself unnecessarily. We'll hear from Culver soon,either by wire or in person. He's never failed me yet. But if Iwere you, Larry, I'd leave that Mexican girl alone."
"Mary?"
"Yes. Mariedetta. Now, there's something to be afraid of. Ifthese cowboys are in love with her and have their eyes on you--"
"Oh, Willie ain't her steady, and he's the only one I'm leary of.Mary's beau is that Egyptian with the funny clothes, and I canlick any guy with tight pants."
A gentle knock sounded at the door, at which Speed called:
"Come in!"
Senor Aurelio Maria Carara entered. He was smoking his customarycorn-husk cigarette, but his dark eyes were grave and his silkenmustachios were pointed to the fineness of a bristle.