Collected Works of Zane Grey

by Zane Grey

  “You wouldn’t hang a Texas cowboy. This murderer would already have swung but for Inskip, who’s another of your Texas breed.”

  “Wal, Surface, thet Texas breed opened up this cattle empire. An’ you seldom heah of one of them gettin’ hanged. Thet might come from their gun-throwin’ proclivity, an’ then again it might be thet few Texans deserve to swing. In this case, I’m refusin’ your offer of a jury. The law of this county is invested in me.”

  “Kiskadden, you may rest assured your authority will not last long,” rejoined Surface heatedly.

  “All right. The hearin’ ‘s on,” called out Kiskadden loudly. “Deputy Bodkin, step forward.” Bodkin took the oath.

  “Now proceed with yore testimony.”

  “Wal, sir, it was late after two o’clock, night before last,” began Bodkin, glib with importance. “I’d been playin’ cards an’ had hardly got asleep when I was woke by somebody at my winder. I seen two men. They was strangers. One of them told me they’d watched a cowboy shoot another off his horse, search him, and drag him into the cabin. Thet was the old Hill cabin, six miles west of town.

  “My informant told me the cowboy came out of the cabin, unsaddled the horses, an’ turned them loose. Then he went back. It was rainin’. He’d likely stay in the cabin till daybreak. Then the two fellers rustled off in the dark. I heerd their horses. Wal, I got up, dressed, an’ rustled out for a posse. At thet hour, it wasn’t easy. It was near dawn when I’d collected ten men. Inskip come along on his own accord. I didn’t want him.

  “Wal, we rode out fast, an’ arrived at the cabin, jest at daybreak. The prisoner thar had just stepped out the door. We held him up, took his gun an’ what he had in his pockets. I seen blood on his hand. I sent men inside to search the cabin. They found the dead man an’ fetched him out. It was Allen Neece. His pockets were turned inside out. I heerd to-day thet Neece won a hundred dollars at faro the afternoon before he rode out of town. He was goin’ to see some girl.

  “Wal, the prisoner hyar sure went white an’ sick when the dead boy was carried out an’ laid on the grass. A blind man could have seen thet he’d murdered him. We found one hoss, the prisoner’s. An’ Segel packed the dead boy in on his saddle. All the way in I was debatin’ on hangin’ the murderer. An’ when I got to it, this side of Twin Sombreros Ranch, Inskip crowded in front of us an’ gave the cowboy a chance to grab his two guns. We got held up pronto an’ drove into town. An’ I’m fer arrestin’ Inskip—”

  “When Surface called you back, what did he say?” interrupted Kiskadden.

  “What?” queried Bodkin. “Surface halted you at his ranch, then followed you an’ stopped you. He drew you out of hearin’ of yore men. This court is powerful interested in what Surface said.”

  “Wal — sir,” exploded the deputy, his visage turning yellow, “he advised hangin’ the cowboy right then an’ thar. Said he distrusted this office.”

  “Thet will do, Bodkin,” said the sheriff. “Doctor Williamson, will you please step forward an’ make yore report.”

  A stout middle-aged man approached the desk.

  “Mister Sheriff,” he began, “and gentlemen. My fellow practitioner and I find that young Neece came to his violent death not later than the middle of the afternoon of day before yesterday. Death was caused by a compound fracture of the skull with consequent concussion of the brain. The bullet hole in his back was made long after he was dead. He had been roped and jerked heavily to the ground, probably from a horse.”

  “Thank you, Doctor,” replied the sheriff. “Now, gentlemen, let me read you a telegram received heah this mawnin’. It is dated Latimer, Colorado, an’ it reads: ‘Sheriff Steve Kiskadden, Las Animas. The letter addressed to Brazos Keene was delivered to him in person at eight-ten o’clock day before yesterday morning, May fifth. Signed, Postmaster John Hilton.”

  “Brazos Keene!” ejaculated Bodkin. A murmur ran through the standing crowd. But it was certain that Raine Surface had never heard the name.

  “Yes, Brazos Keene,” drawled the Texas sheriff. “Gentlemen, you all know thet Latimer is a long way from Las Animas. Much too far for the hardest of hard-ridin’ cowboys to get to the Hill cabin in the afternoon — an’ murder an’ rob young Neece. The letter Keene has in his possession absolutely clears him of any implication whatever in this tragedy. It was physically impossible for Keene to be there!”

  Kiskadden silenced the uproar that followed. “I’m returning your gun, Brazos,” he drawled, “and offerin’ my apologies.” He turned toward his white-faced deputy. “As my last official act, Bodkin, I’m firin’ yu! An’ then I’m resignin’ as sheriff of this county!”

  Kiskadden took off his star and laid it on the desk, and then, arm in arm with Brazos, shouldered his way through the crowd.

  Brazos saw a familiar face appear before him. “Hank Bilyen!”

  The old man put out his hand enthusiastically. “Say, Brazos, but you’re sure a sight for these old eyes! An’ I’ve got somethin’ to tell you that’ll sure make you want to stay right here and get to work.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, suppose we go rob the bank first. Even a grub-line-ridin’ cowboy’s gotta have some money these days.”

  At the door they were accosted by a lithe young man in rider’s garb much the worse for wear. He had a clean-cut, youthful face and fine eyes.

  “I’d like to shake your hand, Keene,” he said, with a winning smile.

  “Shore. An’ who’re yu?” returned Brazos slowly, as he returned the smile.

  “Jack Sain. I’ve been pretty friendly with the Neeces. Allen was my pard.”

  “Brazos, it was Jack’s friendship for the Neeces thet cost him his job,” Hank Bilyen offered. “He rode fer Surface.”

  “Wal, Jack, I’ll be wantin’ to hobnob with yu some,” said Brazos thoughtfully. “Where yu workin’ now?”

  “Nowhere. I can’t get a job. Surface is strong in the association an’ he’s queered me.”

  “Doggone!” mused Brazos. “Jack, where can I find yu later in the afternoon?”

  “Meet me at the Twin Sombreros Restaurant. About supper-time.”

  They parted, and Bilyen led Brazos slowly up the wide street. “Fine lad, thet,” Bilyen was saying. “I reckon he didn’t tell you everythin’. Lura Surface was sweet on Jack. She throws herself at every feller who strikes her fancy. But when Jack met June Neece, he went loco. An’ June leans to him a lot, though she’s not a hell of a flirt at all like Janis.”

  “My Gawd! Hank, is this a story yu’re readin’ me? The next thing yu’ll tell me these sisters will be pretty an’ sweet an’—”

  Bilyen halted in front of a bank and spoke low. “They’ve lost their brother. An’ the beautiful home thet was built fer them. Their father is dyin’ of grief. They’ve been cheated, robbed, ruined. An’ last, young Allen Neece was givin’ his time to ferretin’ out the secret of thet ruin. An’ thet’s why he was murdered!”

  “Shore, Hank, I savvy yu,” he answered. “Let’s go in an’ rob the bank. Then yu can take me oot to meet Abe Neece. An’ after thet, I’ll see the twins.”

  A few minutes later, Brazos stood outside the bank again, feeling a compact bulge in his pocket not altogether made by his precious letter.

  “Hank, I only wanted a little money,” expostulated Brazos. “How’n hell will I ever pay it back?’”

  “Holy mackerel, Brazos, ask me an easy one. But I know you will,” rejoined Bilyen. “I can spare thet. Before I went to work fer Neece, I sold my herd to him, an’ I’ve saved my money. I’m takin’ care of the old man now an’ I lent the twins enough to start their restaurant.”

  “Wal, you always was a good friend, Hank. Say, who’s this gazabo comin’?”

  “Thet’s Sam Mannin’. Still has his store down the street.”

  A spare grey Westerner of venerable and kindly aspect came up to them, his lined face breaking into a smile.

  “Hello, Brazos,” he said heartily, extending his hand. “Glad to see yo
u again. An’ just about the same!”

  “Howdy, Sam. I’m gonna run in pronto an’ buy oot yore store. Have you any of those red silk scarfs Louise used to sell me?”

  “Plenty, cowboy. My store an’ business have grown with the years.”

  “Hank, let’s duck down an alley. If I meet any more old friends I’ll bust.”

  “Stand your ground, cowboy. I got to buy some grub. Haw! Haw! Look who’s spotted you. Has she got eyes? Aw no—”

  “Save me, Hank. Who’n hell? I’ll bet it’s thet Surface girl.”

  “Right, Brazos. I’ll duck in the store. Hope some of you’ll be left when I come out.”

  Brazos had attention only for the stunningly handsome and strikingly attired young woman who bore down upon him, eyes alight. She was taller than she had appeared astride a horse, beautifully-proportioned, and several years beyond her teens.

  “I congratulate you, Mr. Brazos Keene,” she said, graciously offering her hand. “I’m very glad indeed. It was a stupid blunder.”

  “Wal, thet’s Shore nice of yu, Miss Surface,” replied Brazos as he bowed bareheaded to take her hand. “Considerin’ how keen yore father was to see me hanged, I’m more’n grateful to see yu wasn’t.”

  “Oh, Dad is impossible,” she declared. “He seems to suspect every cowboy who rides in from the West.”

  “Shore does seem hard on us Western riders,” drawled Brazos, his gaze strong on her. “I was aboot to shake the dust of Las Animas. But now, I just reckon I’ll hang around. Do yu think I might met to see yu again?”

  “You might,” she replied, blushing becomingly. “I’d like nothing better.”

  “But Mr. Surface wouldn’t like it.”

  “There’s Dad down the street,” she returned coolly. “Meet me tomorrow afternoon about three in the grove on the east bank of the brook that runs into the Purgatory about a mile out of town. Can you remember all that?”

  “I’ll be there,” promised Brazos.

  She rewarded him with a dazzling smile and swept on down the street.

  “Brimstone an’ chain lightnin’,” soliloquized Brazos, watching the superb form depart. “Turrible took with herself. Crazy aboot men. An’ I cain’t savvy what else. But doggone it! I like her.”

  Bilyen emerged from the store burdened with bags.

  “You look kinda sheepish,” he observed. “I’d be some worried if I didn’t know you was goin’ to meet’ June Neece to-day.”

  Bilyen had a little ten-acre ranch on the Purgatory. A grey shack faced the rocky, swift-running stream, and the splendid vista of plains to the south and the noble slopes of foothills rising to the Rockies on the west.

  “I reckon I’ll buy this place from yu an’ settle down,” drawled Brazos dreamily.

  He was leaning over the rocky bank, still dreaming, when Hank came out of the shack accompanied by a man whose lean grey visage denoted the havoc of trouble if not of years. Brazos leaped erect.

  “Howdy, Brazos Keene,” was the man’s greeting. “Hank has told me about you.”

  “Shore happy to meet you, Mr. Neece.” responded Brazos warmly.

  “Cowboy, you’ve got the cut of my son Allen — only you’re older — an’ there’s something proved about you. Allen was reckless, inexperienced.”

  “Let’s set down on the bank heah. Nice view.”

  Neece sighed and gazed out to the open range. He was not old, nor feeble, but it appeared plain that the shock of disaster had broken him.

  “Brazos, is what Bilyen tells me true?” he queried presently. “Hank says you’re goin’ to stay here an’ look into the deal we Neeces have had.”

  “Wal, thet’s easy to answer,” declared Brazos coolly. “Bodkin arrested me because he needed to hang the crime on somebody. He thought I was a stranger — a cowboy down on his luck. Surface wanted me hanged. For reasons I’m gonna find oot. If thet wasn’t enough to rile Brazos Keene — wal, this rotten deal handed to you an’ yore kids shore would be. I don’t want to brag, but the ootfit chalked up some bad marks for themselves.”

  “You insinuate Surface is in some way connected with Bodkin?”

  “Insinuate nothin’. I’m tellin’ you, Mr. Neece.” Brazos took out Holly’s letter; carefully opened and sorted the pages until he came to Renn Frayne’s postscript. The passage that related to Surface he slowly and gravely read.

  “No coincidence! That was my herd. It was last seen on the Canadian.”

  “Wal. I had thet hunch myself. My idee is thet Frayne has tipped me a hunch damn important to eastern Colorado. Neece, I’ve heahed yore story from Hank. Just now, I only want to put one question. How an’ when did yu lose thet money of Surface’s you got in Dodge?”

  “Simple as A. B. C. I wanted cash. Got it, an’ took it on the train in a satchel. The train didn’t get into Las Animas till after midnight. Jerry, my stableboy, met me with the buckboard. We drove out toward the ranch. At the turn of the road, where the brook crosses, I was held up by three men an’ robbed.”

  “Ahuh. An’ they shore knew where you’d been an’ what you had. Was there anythin’ familiar aboot them?”

  “No. Strangers. They wore masks. But I never forget a voice. One of the three had a young, nervous, high-pitched voice, almost womanish. He called the burly man what sounded like ‘Brad,’ an’ got cussed for doin’ it. They were tough range riders.”

  “Brad,” echoed Brazos, with a wild leap of his pulse. “Was thet all you heahed?”

  “Yes. One of them batted me on the head. Jerry is not well yet from the beatin’ they gave him.”

  “Did yu ever tell thet you heahed the name Brad — spoke by a young, nervous, high-pitched voice?”

  “Come to think of it, I don’t believe I ever did, except maybe to Allen. It must have slipped my mind. You excite me so it all comes back clear.”

  “Well, thet’s all I want to heah this time. Walk aboot a bit an’ think. Then I’ll ride back to town an’ keep my appointment with Jack Sain. Hank, I’ll be heah in the mawnin’. An’ Mr. Neece, don’t get het up overly aboot this. I might be loco, but I swear we’re on as black an’ bloody a trail as I ever took up. So it behooves us to use our haids. Adios.”

  CHAPTER 4

  WHEN BRAZOS KEENE arrived at the railroad station it was near the supper hour. The restaurant he sought had been remodelled from an old adobe building. A second storey had been added and the whole given a coat of whitewash The building, the location, and the neat sign were all attractive. A hitching-rail ran along in front.

  Brazos dismounted. Tying Bay to the rail, he stalked with his clinking step into the restaurant. But Jack Sain was not there. So far as he could see, the place was empty.

  At this juncture, two things happened simultaneously — Brazos remembered the Neece twins, and a door opened to admit a girl. Brazos never figured out what gave him such a shock, but the fact was that never in his life before had any girl produced the effect this one had on him.

  She was slight and graceful of form, fair-haired, but not blonde, and her face was white, sweet, sad. It struck Brazos she did not act like a waitress. She approached him, and, putting her hands on the counter, she leaned forward.

  “Brazos Keene,” she affirmed.

  “Wal, I — I was when I come in heah,” he said, fighting to smile, “but I cain’t say now for shore.”

  “I am — June Neece,” she returned, her low voice breaking a little. “We are sorry you were arrested and—”

  “Thet was nothin’ at all, Miss Neece,” interrupted Brazos. “Shore I hardly ever ride into a town but somethin’ like thet happens. I’m a marked man. As for the cause this time, wal, I oughtn’t to remind you aboot — but I swear to Gawd I’m innocent—”

  “Don’t,” she interposed earnestly. “If you had not been proved innocent, I would have known you were innocent.” And she pressed a warm little hand in Brazos’s upturned palm and left it there while she turned to call: “Jan, come here.”

  Then it appeared
to the bewildered and thrilled cowboy that another June Neece walked into his heart.

  “Jan, this is he,” said the first tawny-eyed vision to the second, and then to him with a little, smile: “My sister, Janis.”

  There was absolutely no telling these twin sisters apart. The one called Janis blushed and a bright glow suddenly burned out the shadow in her eyes.

  “Brazos Keene? Oh, I am glad to meet you!” she exclaimed, and, repeating her sister’s action, she put her hand in his other as it lay on the counter.

  The street door banged suddenly and Jack Sain came tramping in.

  “Howdy, Brazos. I see you’ve got acquainted without my help,” he remarked, as the girls withdrew their hands from Brazos’s grip.

  “Jack, this Brazos cowboy is not so slow,” said Janis teasingly.

  “Slow! Never in this world could you apply that word to Brazos Keene. I see he’s perked you up already. Let’s get our order in before the gang comes rollin’ along.”

  “Boys, what will you have?” asked one of the twins. The other had turned to the vanguard of hungry visitors, now flocking from all directions.

  While the restaurant rapidly filled and the young waitresses flitted to and fro, Brazos listened to his voluble friend and eagerly watched for June without any hope whatever of being able to tell which of the twins really was June.

  When, however, Sam gave Brazos a dig in the ribs with his elbow, Brazos came out of his trance.

  “Look behind you — at thet handsome dressed-up dude rancher,” whispered Sam. “At the table.”

  “Ahuh. Wal—” replied Brazos, leisurely complying. “Kinda spick and span, at thet. But he’s got a nice face. Who is he?”

  “Henry Sisk, an’ he has a nice face, I’m bound to admit. Too damn nice! Women like him a heap.”

  “How aboot June an’ Janis heah?”

  “June couldn’t see him with a telescope. But I got a hunch Jan likes him. Anyway, it’s Jan he ‘pears to be courtin’.”

  “How’n hell does he know which one he’s courtin’?”

  “He doesn’t, unless they tell him, you can bet your roll on thet.”