CHAPTER XXIII
KATE RIDES
In strict point of fact, Laramie had left the room across the hall andat that particular moment was sitting down for a late supper at BelleShockley's whither Sawdy and Lefever had dragged him from the hotel.Carpy had come with them.
At the table--after Laramie had told part of his story--the talk,genial to cheerfulness, was largely professional criticism of the shotacross the Crazy Woman. The technical disadvantages of shootinguphill, the tendency to over-elevate for such shots, the difficulty ofcatching the pace and speed of a horse, all supplied judicialobservations for Lefever and Sawdy, while Laramie--so nearly thevictim--leaving the topic to these Sleepy Cat gun pundits, conferredwith Carpy about the care of gunshot wounds; and protested against FlatNose George and the Museum of Horrors in the Doctor's office.
"But I want to tell you, boys," remarked the doctor, when the talkturned on the discomfiture of the enemy group, "what Barb asked metonight--this is on the dead." The doctor looked around to includeBelle--who was standing with folded arms, her back against thesideboard and listening to the conversation--in his injunction ofsecrecy. "He came to me at the hotel. 'Doc,' says Barb, 'I want toask you a question. There's stories circulating around about Laramie'sgetting shot this morning, on his way into town. Has Laramie been toyou to get fixed up, at all?'
"'Well, Barb,' I says, 'that's not really a fair question for me toanswer--you know that. But since you spoke about it, Jim was in awhileago----'
"'Was in, eh?'
"'For a few minutes----'
"'Hit?'
"'That I couldn't say. What he asked for, Barb, was a bottle of PerryDavis' painkiller--said the rheumatiz was getting him to beat theband.'"
Carpy paused: "'Rheumatiz!' says Barb. He didn't stop to swear--hejust bit his old cigar right square in two in the middle, dropped oneend on the floor and stamped on it." The Doctor leaned forward andspoke to Laramie: "How's longhorn, Jim?"
Laramie looked troubled: "If it wasn't for dragging you into it, I'dask you to go out and see him."
"Jim, a doctor's place is where he's needed."
"I left a twenty dollar gold piece in your medicine chest for the stuffI took."
"You go to hell!" The Doctor pulled a handful of money from his pocketand threw a double eagle at Laramie. "There's your gold piece."
"Belle, look at them fellows," exclaimed Sawdy moodily, "pocketsloaded. I never had more than twenty dollars at one time in my life.My mother told me to take care of the pennies and the dollars wouldtake care of themselves. The blamed dollars wouldn't do it. I tookcare of the pennies. I've got 'em yet--that's all I have got. Jim,I'll match you for that gold piece."
"Gamblers never have a cent," commented Belle darkly.
"That gold piece," explained Laramie, "is not my money, Harry. It'sCarpy's money and he'll keep it if I have to make him swallow it."
"That's not the question," declared Carpy. "Did you get what youwanted?" Laramie told him he did. "And by the great Jehosaphat,"added the doctor, "you bumped into Kate Doubleday!"
"What else did you expect?" retorted Laramie, not pleased at therecollection.
Carpy, throwing back his head, laughed well: "After Kate Doubleday toldme she was going for the dressings herself, I says to myself, 'There'llbe two people in my house tonight--a man and a woman--I hope to Godthey don't meet.'"
"Jim," intervened Belle, "you ought to get Abe Hawk to a hospital."
"He's got to get him to one," affirmed Lefever. "I've seen that man,"he added emphatically, "I know."
"How's he going to do it," inquired Carpy, "without starting the fightall over again?"
Lefever stuck to his ground: "Get him down to Sleepy Cat in the night,"he insisted.
"Can he ride?" asked Sawdy.
"He may have to have help," said Laramie.
"There's a moon right now. They'd pick you off like rabbits," objectedSawdy, "and they've got that whole trail patroled to the Crazy Woman.They're watching this town like cats. You'll have to waste a lot ofammunition to get Abe to a hospital."
"From all I hear," observed Carpy, "if Abe gets any more lead in himyou won't need to take him to the hospital. He'll be ready to headstraight for the undertaker's."
"We've got to wait either for a late moon or a rainy night; then we'llget busy," suggested Lefever.
"He might die while you're waiting," interposed Carpy.
Lefever could not be subdued: "Not as quick as he'd die if Van Horn'sbunch caught sight of him on the road," he said sententiously. "We'llget him down and he won't die, either."
"Well, pay for your supper, boys, and let's get away," said Carpy. "Iwant some sleep."
But for Lefever and Sawdy there was little sleep that night. Theechoes of the "fatal" shot--almost fatal, as it proved, to the prestigeof the enemy--were being discussed pretty much everywhere in Sleepy Catand wherever men that night assembled in public places, Sawdy andLefever swaggered in and out at least once. The pair looked wise,spoke obscurely, looked the crowd, large or small, over critically,played an occasional restrained and brief finger-tattoo on the butts oftheir bolstered guns and listened condescendingly to everyone that hada theory to advance, a reminiscence to offer, or a propitiating drinkto suggest.
Wherever they could induce him to go, they dragged Laramie--at once asan exhibit and a defi; but Laramie objected to the thoroughness withwhich his companions essayed to cover the territory, and unfeelinglywithdrew from the party to go to bed. Sawdy and Company, undismayed bythe defection, continued to haunt the high places until the lastsympathizer with Van Horn and Company had been challenged and bulliedor silenced.
But the differing sympathies on the situation in Sleepy Cat were not tobe adjusted in a single night, either by force or persuasion. Thewhole town took sides and the cattlemen found the most defenders. Whatmight be designated, but with modesty, as "big business" in Sleepy Catstood stubbornly, despite the violence of their methods, with Van Horn,Doubleday and their friends; the interest of such business lay with themen that bought the most supplies. The banks and the merchants werethus pretty much aligned on one side. The surgeon of the townprofessed neutrality--at least as regarded operations--for he wasneeded to administer to both factions. Harry Tenison, as dealer of thebig game in town and owner of the big hotel, was of necessity neutral;though men like himself and Carpy were rightly suspected of leaningtoward Laramie, if not even as far as toward Abe Hawk. The opensympathizers of the Falling Wall men were among trainmen, liverymen,the clerks, the barbers and bartenders, and those who could be usuallycounted as "agin the government."
Meantime, the element of mystery in the still unclosed tragedy of theupper country concerned the disappearance of Hawk; and this naturallycentered about Laramie. None but he knew to a certainty the fate ofthe redoubtable old cowboy, so long a range favorite. And wheneverLaramie appeared in town, speculation at once revived every feature ofthe situation, and Kate Doubleday when she came to Sleepy Cat, whethershe would or not, could not escape the talk concerning the Falling Wallfeud.
Loyalty to her own and the intense partizanship of her nature, combinedto urge her to sympathize with the fight of the range owners againstthe Falling Wall men. But in this attitude, Belle Shockley was a trialto Kate. Belle would not drag in the subject of the fight but shenever avoided it; and Kate, even against her inclination, seemedimpelled to speak of the subject with Belle. She instinctively feltthat Belle's sympathies were with the other side; and felt just asstrongly in her impulsiveness, that Belle should be set right aboutrustlers and their friends--meaning always, by the latter, Jim Laramie.Belle, stubborn but more contained, clung to her own views. Though sherarely talked back, the attempt to assassinate Laramie had intensifiedeveryone's feelings, and for days only a spark on that subject wasneeded to fire more than one Sleepy Cat powder magazine. One afternoonrain caught Kate in at Belle's and kept her until almost dark fromstarting for home, and one magazine did explode.
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nbsp; The two women were sitting on the porch watching the shower. McAlpinon his way uptown from the barn, had stopped at Belle's a moment forshelter.
"I'll tell you, Kate," said Belle, after listening as patiently as shecould to what Kate had to say about the Falling Wall fight and itsconsequences, "I like you. I can't help liking you. But the onlyreason you talk the way you do is because you haven't lived in thiscountry long. You don't know this country--you don't know the people."
McAlpin nodded strongly: "That's so, that's true."
"I, at least, know common honesty, I hope."
"But you don't know anything at all of what you are talking about,"insisted Belle, "and if you think I'm ever going to agree with you thatit was right for Van Horn and your father and their friends to take abunch of Texas men up into the Falling Wall and shoot and burn menbecause they're rustlers, you're very much mistaken. And I can tellyou the people of this country won't agree with you either, no matterwhat some folks in this town may say to tickle your ears."
"Do you mean to say you stand up for thieves, too?" asked Kate, hotly.
McAlpin looked apprehensively out at the clouds. Belle twitched hershoulders: "You needn't be so high and mighty about it," she retorted."No, I don't. And I don't stand up for burning men alive because theybrand mavericks. You talk very fierce--like everybody up your way.But if Abe Hawk or Jim Laramie walked in here this minute, you wouldn'tagree to have them shot down. And don't you forget it, Jim Laramiedoesn't claim a hoof of anybody's cattle but his own."
Kate would not back down: "Why do they call him king of the rustlers?"she demanded.
"King of the rustlers, nothing," echoed Belle in disgust. "That'sbarroom talk. No decent man ever accused him of branding so much as ahorse hair that didn't belong to him."
"And his reputation is, he's not very slow when it comes to shooting,either," declared Kate.
McAlpin thought it a time for oil on the waters! "You've got to makeallowances," he urged with dignity. "Ten years ago--less'n that,even--they was all pretty quick on the trigger in this country. Jimwas a kid 'n' he had to travel with the bunch."
"And he was quicker 'n any of them," interposed Belle, defiantly,"wasn't he, Mac?"
McAlpin was for moderation and better feeling:
"Well," he admitted gravely, "full as quick, I guess."
"It seems to me," observed Kate, still resentful, "as if men here arepretty quick yet."
"Oh, no," interposed McAlpin at once; "oh, no, not special now'days.More talk'n there used to be--heap more."
"Bring over my pony, Mr. McAlpin, will you?" asked Kate, very muchirritated.
McAlpin looked surprised: "You wouldn't be ridin' home tonight?"
"Yes," replied Kate, sharply, "I would."
As McAlpin started on his way she turned on Belle: "And you mustn'tforget, Belle, that vigilantes, no matter whether they do make mistakesor go too far, have built this country up and made it safe to live in."
Belle's face took on a weariness: "Oh, no--not always safe to livein--sometimes safe to make money in. There's nothing I'm so sick ofhearing as this vigilante stuff. The vigilante crowd are mostly bigthieves--the rustlers, little thieves--that's about all the differenceI can see."
"Well, is there any difference between being a rustler, and protectingand being the friend of one?"
Belle's restraint broke: "You'd better set your own house in orderbefore you criticize me or Jim Laramie. He's never yet tried toassassinate anybody."
"Neither has my father, nor the men that raided the Falling Wall."
"Don't you know," demanded Belle, indignantly, "that the men who raidedthe Falling Wall are the men that tried to murder Laramie?"
"I don't believe it," said Kate, flatly. "Father doesn't believe_any_body tried to murder him."
Belle's wrath bubbled over: "Your father's as deep in it as anybody."
She could have bitten her tongue off the instant she uttered the angrywords. But they were out.
Kate sprang to her feet. Even Belle, used to shocks and encounters,was silenced by the look that met her. For a moment the angry girl didnot utter a word, but if her eyes were daggers, Belle would have beentransfixed. Kate's breast rose sharply and she spoke low and fast:"How dare you accuse my father of such a thing?"
Belle, though cowed, was defiant: "I dare say just what I believe to betrue."
"What proof have you?"
"I don't need proof for what everyone knows."
"You say what is absolutely false." Kate's tranquil eyes were aflame;she stood child, indeed, of her old father. Belle had more than oncedoubted whether Kate _could_ be the daughter of such a man--she neverdoubted it after that scene on the day of the rain. Barb himself wouldhave waited on his daughter's words. "You're glad to listen to thestories of our enemies," she almost panted, "because they're yourfriends; you're welcome to them. But my father's enemies are myenemies and I know now where to place you."
White with anger as she was herself, Belle, older and more controlled,tried to allay the storm she had raised: "I didn't meant to hurt you,Kate," she protested, "you drove me too far."
"I'm glad I did," returned Kate, wickedly, as she stepped back into theliving-room, pinned on her hat and made ready as fast as possible togo. "I know you in your true colors."
"Well, whether I'm right or wrong, you'll find my colors don't fade anddon't change."
A boy stood at the gate with Kate's pony.
The two women were again on the porch. Belle looked at the sky. Therain had abated but the mountains were black. "Now, Kate, what are yougoing to do?"
Kate had walked out and was indignantly throwing the lines over herhorse's neck. "I'm going home," she answered, as sharply as the wordscould be spoken.
Belle crossed the sidewalk to her side: "This is a poor time of day fora long ride. We've quarreled, I know, but don't try a mountain trail anight like this. The rain isn't over yet."
"I'll be home before it starts again," returned Kate, springing intothe saddle. "I'm sick of this town and everybody in it."
So saying, she struck her horse with the lines and headed for themountains.
Laramie Holds the Range Page 23