CHAPTER XXI
UNDER ARREST
When Brown emerged from behind the protection of the cabin, hisfreckled face yet burning red in memory of his strenuous love-making,he discovered both Hicks and Winston standing upon the rock whichshortly before had formed their breakfast table, gazing watchfully offinto the purple depths of the canyon, occasionally lifting their eyesto search carefully the nearer surroundings about the hostile"Independence." Something serious was in the air, and all three menfelt its mysterious presence. Hicks held the field-glasses in hishands, outwardly calm, yet his old face already beginning to exhibitthe excitement of rapidly culminating events. That they were not to belong left undisturbed was promised by an increasing number of figuresdistinctly visible around the distant shaft-house and dump, as well asthe continuous shouting, indistinguishable as to words but pronouncedin volume, borne through the clear air to their ears.
"I 'm a liar if ther was n't twenty in that last bunch," Hicksmuttered, just a trifle uneasily. "Good Lord boys! it 's an army they're organizin' over yonder. Blame me if I onderstan' that sorterscheme at all. It don't look nat'ral. I never thought Farnham was nocoward when ther time come fer fightin', but this kind o' fixin' shorelooks as if we had him skeered stiff. Wal, it 'll take more 'n a buncho' San Juan toughs to skeer me. I reckon ther present plan must be tertry rushin' ther 'Little Yankee.'"
He wheeled about, driving the extended tubes of his glass together, hisgray beard forking out in front of his lean, brown face like so manybristles.
"Oh, is thet you come back, Stutter? Thought I heerd somebody walkin'behind me. I reckon, judgin' from ther outlook over thar, thet thedance is 'bout ter begin; leastwise, the fiddlers is takin' theirplaces," and he waved his gnarled hand toward the distant crowd. "Gotsomethin' like a reg'ment thar now, hoss and fut, an' it's safe ter betthar 's more a-comin'. This yere fracas must be gittin' somecelebrated, an' bids fair ter draw bigger 'n a three-ringed circus.All ther scum o' San Juan must 'a got a private tip thet we was easymarks. They 're out yere like crows hopin' ter pick our bones cleanafore the law kin git any show at all. Wal, it 'll be a tough meal allright, an' some of 'em are mighty liable ter have trouble with theirdigestion, fer thar 's goin' ter be considerable lead eat first. Nowsee yere, Stutter, the safest thing we kin do is git ready. You chasethat whole bunch yonder back behind them rocks, where they 'll be outo' the way--the Swede an' the women. Do it lively, an' you an' Mikestay up thar with 'em, with your guns handy. Keep under cover as muchas ye kin, for some o' them lads out thar will have glasses with 'em,and be watchin' of us almighty close. Hurry 'long now; me an' Winstonwill stop yere until we find out just what their little game is likelyter be."
He turned away from his partner, facing once again toward the"Independence." Then he readjusted the tubes, and passed them over tohis silent companion.
"Just see what you make out o' it, Mr. Winston; ye 're some younger,an' yer eyes ought ter be a heap better 'n mine."
The young engineer, his heart already beginning to throb with theexcitement of an unaccustomed position of danger, ran the lensescarefully back and forth from the half-concealed bunk-house to thenearer ore-dump, searching for every sign of life. Whatever emotionswayed him, there was not the slightest tremor to the steady handssupporting the levelled tubes.
"They have certainly got together a considerable number of men," hereported, the glass still at his eyes. "Roughs the most of them lookto be, from their clothes. The largest number are grouped in betweenthe shaft-house and the dump, but there must be a dozen or fifteen downbelow at the edge of those cedars. Farnham is at the shaft-house--no,he and another fellow have just started down the dump, walking thisway. Now they have gone into the cedars, and are coming straightthrough. What's up, do you suppose--negotiations?"
"I 'm damned if I know," returned the old miner, staring blankly."This whole thing kinder jiggers me. Maybe he thinks he kin skeer usout by a good brand o' talk. He 's a bit o' a bluffer, that Farnham."
The two watchers waited in breathless expectancy, leaning on theirloaded Winchesters, their eyes eagerly fastened on the concealingcedars. Behind where they remained in the open, yet within easyrifle-shot, the heads of Brown and Old Mike rose cautiously above therock rampart of their natural fort. Suddenly two men, walking abreast,emerged from out the shadow of the wood, and came straight toward themacross the open ridge of rocks. They advanced carelessly, making noeffort to pick their path, and in apparently utter indifference to anypossible peril. The one was Farnham, his slender form erect, hisshoulders squared, his hat pushed jauntily back so as to reveal fullythe smoothly shaven face. The other bent slightly forward as hewalked, his wide brim drawn low over his eyes, leaving little visibleexcept the point of a closely trimmed beard. He was heavily built, anda "45" dangled conspicuously at his hip. If Farnham bore arms theywere concealed beneath the skirt of his coat. Watching them approach,Winston's eyes became threatening, his hands involuntarily clinching,but Hicks remained motionless, his lean jaws continuously munching onthe tobacco in his cheek.
"Who the hell is that with him?" he questioned, wonderingly. "Do youknow the feller?"
Winston shook his head, his own steady gaze riveted upon Farnham.Deliberately the two climbed the low ore-dump side by side, and cameforth on top into the full glare of the sun. Hicks's Winchester sankto a level, his wicked old eye peering along the polished barrel.
"I 'll have to ask ye ter stop right thar, gents," he said, genially,drawing back the hammer with a sharp click. "Ye 're trespassin' on myproperty."
The two men came to an instant halt, Farnham smiling unpleasantly, hishands buried in his pockets. His companion hastily shoved back hishat, as though in surprise at the summons, revealing a broad, ruddyface, shadowed by iron-gray whiskers. Hicks half lowered his gun,giving vent to a smothered oath.
"By God, it's the sheriff!" he muttered, in complete bewilderment."What the hell are we up against?"
There was an interval of intense silence, both parties gazing at eachother, the one side startled, unnerved, the other cool, contemptuous.It was the sheriff who first spoke, standing firmly on his short legs,and quietly stroking his beard.
"You probably recognize me, Bill Hicks," he said, calmly, "and it mightbe just as healthy for you to lower that gun. I ain't here hunting anytrouble, but if it begins I 've got a posse over yonder big enough tomake it mighty interesting. You sabe?"
Old Hicks hesitated, his finger yet hovering about the trigger, hiseyes filled with doubt. There was some mystery in this affair he couldnot in the least fathom, but he was obstinate and hard-headed.
"Yes, I know you all right, Mr. Sheriff," he returned, yet speakinghalf angrily. "But I don't know what ye 're dippin' inter this yereaffair fer. I haven't any quarrel with you, ner any cause fer one.But I have with that grinnin' cuss alongside o' yer. I 'll talk withyou all right, but Farnham will either mosey back ter his own den o'thieves, 'er I 'll blow a hole plumb through him--that's flat. I don'ttalk ter his kind."
The sheriff held up one hand, taking a single step forward, his facegrown sternly resolute.
"Mr. Farnham chances to be present as my deputy," he announced gravely."I don't know anything about a quarrel between you two men, and I careless. I 'm here to enforce the law and arrest law-breakers. If youdecide to interfere between me and my duty I 'll know how to act. I've smelt of the business end of a gun before to-day, and I guessnobody ever saw Sam Hayes play baby when there was a fight on tap. Ifthere 's trouble between you and Farnham, have it out, and git donewith it in proper fashion, but just now he 's a sworn officer of thelaw, and when you threaten him you threaten all Gulpin County. Do youmanage to digest that fact, Hicks?"
The sturdy old prospector, his face white with rage under the tan,uncocked his rifle and dropped the butt heavily upon the earth, hiseyes wandering from the face of the sheriff to that of Winston.
"What the hell is it yer want, then?" he asked sullenly. Hayes smiled,sh
ifting easily so as to rest his weight on one leg.
"Got anybody in your bunch named Winston?" he questioned, "Ned Winston,mining engineer?"
The younger man started in surprise.
"That is my name," he replied, before Hicks could speak. The sherifflooked toward him curiously, noting the square jaw, the steady grayeyes; then he glanced aside at Farnham. The latter nodded carelessly.
"So far, so good. By the same luck, have you a Swede here called NelsSwanson?"
Hicks shook his head in uncertainty.
"There 's a Swede here, all right, who belongs ter the 'Independence'gang. I don 't know his name."
"It's Swanson," put in Farnham, cheerfully. "Those are the two birdsyou 're after, sheriff."
The latter official, as though fascinated by what he read there, neverventured to remove his watchfulness from the face of the engineer, yethe smiled grimly.
"Then I 'll have to trouble you to trot out the Swede, Hicks," he said,a distinct command in his voice. "After he 's here we 'll get down tobusiness."
It was fully five minutes before the fellow arrived, his movements slowand reluctant. From his language, expressing his feelings freely toMike and Brown, who were engaged in urging him forward, it was evidenthe experienced no ambition to appear in the limelight. The four menwaiting his coming remained motionless, intently watchful of oneanother. As the slowly moving Swede finally approached, Hayes venturedto remove his eyes from Winston just long enough to scan swiftly themournful countenance, that single glance revealing to him the characterof the man. The latter gazed uneasily from one face to another, hismild blue eyes picturing distress, his fingers pulling aimlessly at hismoustache.
"Ay ban yere by you fellers," he confessed sorrowfully, unable todetermine which person it was that wanted him.
"So I see," admitted the sheriff laconically. "Are you Nels Swanson?"
The fellow swallowed something in his throat that seemed to choke him.This question sounded familiar; it brought back in a rush arecollection of his late controversy with Mr. O'Brien. His faceflushed, his eyes hardening.
"Ay ban Nels Swanson!" he exploded, beating the air with clenched fist."Ay ban Lutheran! Ay ban shovel-man by Meester Burke. Ay get twotollar saxty cint! Ay not give won tamn for you! Ay lick de fellarvot ask me dot again!"
The sheriff stared at him, much as he might have examined a new andpeculiar specimen of bug.
"I don't recall having asked you anything about your family history,"he said quietly, dropping one hand in apparent carelessness on the buttof his "45." "Your name was all I wanted." He tapped the breast ofhis coat suggestively, his gaze returning to Winston.
"Well, gents, we might as well bring this affair to a focus, althoughno doubt you two understand the meaning of it pretty well already. I've got warrants here for the arrest of Winston and Swanson. I hopeneither of you intend to kick up any row."
The white teeth of the young mining engineer set like a trap, his grayeyes gleaming dangerously beneath frowning brows. Instinctively hetook a quick step forward.
"Warrants?" he exclaimed, breathlessly. "In God's name, for what?"
Hayes tightened his grip on the gun butt, drawing it half from thesheath, his eyes narrowing.
"For the murder of Jack Burke," he said tersely. "Don't you move,young man!"
There was a long moment of intense, strained silence, in which the fivemen could hear nothing but their own quick breathing. Before Winstoneverything grew indistinct, unreal, the faces fronting him a phantasyof imagination. He felt the fierce throb of his own pulses, a suddendull pain shooting through his temples. _Murder_! The terrible wordstruck like a blow, appearing to paralyze all his faculties. In frontof him, as if painted, he saw that fierce struggle in the dark, thelimp figure lying huddled among the rocks. _Murder_! Aye, and howcould he prove it otherwise? How could he hope to clear himself fromthe foul charge? Even as he yet swayed unsteadily upon his feet, ahand pressed across his eyes as if shielding them from that horriblevision, a voice, deep and strident, rang out:
"Mike an' me have got the two cusses covered Mr. Winston. If theymove, or you give us the highball, we 'll plug 'em dead centre!"
Beth Norvell: A Romance of the West Page 21