CHAPTER XXV
"PLANTED--OUT THERE"
Malvey, loafing at the ranch of Mescalero, received The Spider'smessage about the posse with affected indifference. He had Pete'shorse in his possession, which in itself would make trouble should hebe seen. When he learned from the messenger that Young Pete was inShowdown, he fumed and blustered until evening, when he saddled BlueSmoke and rode south toward the Flores rancho. From Flores's place hewould ride on south, across the line to where he could always findemployment for his particular talents. Experience had taught him thatit was useless to go against The Spider, whose warning, whether it werebased on fact or not, was a hint to leave the country.
The posse from Concho, after circling the midnight desert and failingto find any trace of Pete, finally drew together and decided to waituntil daylight made it possible to track him. As they talked together,they saw a dim figure coming toward them. Swinging from their course,they rode abruptly down a draw. Four of them dismounted. The fifth,the chief deputy, volunteered to ride out and interview the horseman.The four men on foot covered the opening of the draw, where the trailpassed, and waited.
The deputy sat his horse, as though waiting for some one. Malvey atonce thought of Young Pete--then of The Spider's warning--and finallythat the solitary horseman might be some companion from below theborder, cautiously awaiting his approach. Half-inclined to ride wide,he hesitated--then loosening his gun he spurred his restless ponytoward the other, prepared to "bull" through if questioned too closely.
Within thirty feet of the deputy Malvey reined in. "You're ridin'late," he said, with a forced friendliness in his voice.
"This the trail to Showdown?" queried the deputy.
"This is her. Lookin' for anybody in particular?"
"Nope. And I reckon nobody is lookin' for me. I'm ridin my own horse."
It was a chance shot intended to open the way to a parley--and identifythe strange horseman by his voice, if possible. It also was achallenge, if the unknown cared to accept it as such. Malvey's slowmind awakened to the situation. A streak of red flashed from his handas he spurred straight for the deputy, who slipped from his saddle andbegan firing over it, shielded by his pony. A rifle snarled in thedraw. Malvey jerked straight as a soft-nosed slug tore through him.Another slug shattered his thigh. Cursing, he lunged sideways, as BlueSmoke bucked. Malvey toppled and fell--an inert bulk in the dim lightof the stars.
The chief deputy struck a match and stooped. "We got the wrong man,"he called to his companions.
"It's Bull Malvey," said one of the deputies as the match flickeredout. "I knew him in Phoenix."
"Heard of him. He was a wild one," said another deputy.
"Comin' and goin'! One of The Spider's bunch, and a hoss-thief right!I reckon we done a good job."
"He went for his gun," said the chief.
"We had him covered from the start," asserted a deputy. "He sure won'tsteal no more hosses."
"Catch up his cayuse," commanded the chief deputy.
Two of them, after a hard ride, finally put Blue Smoke within reach ofa rope. He was led back to where Malvey lay.
"Concho brand!" exclaimed the chief.
"Young Pete's horse," asserted another.
"There'll be hell to pay if Showdown gets wise to what happened to BullMalvey," said the deputy, who recognized the dead outlaw.
Dawn was just breaking when the chief deputy, disgusted with what hetermed their "luck," finally evolved a plan out of the many discussedby his companions. "We got the cayuse--which will look good to theT-Bar-T boys. We ain't down here for our health and we been up againstit from start to finish--and so far as I care, this is the finish. Getit right afore we start. Young Pete is dead. We got his horse." Hepaused and glanced sharply at Blue Smoke. "He's got the Concho brand!"he exclaimed.
"Young Pete's horse was a blue roan," said a deputy. "I guess this ishim--blue roan with a white blaze on his nose--so Cotton told me."
"Looks like it!" said the chief deputy. "Well, say we got his horse,then. We're in luck for once."
"Now it's easy diggin' down there in the draw. And it's gettin'daylight fast. I reckon that's Malvey's saddle and bridle on the blueroan. We'll just cover up all evidence of who was ridin' this hoss,drift into Showdown and eat, and then ride along up north and collectthat reward. We'll split her even--and who's goin' to say we didn'tearn it?"
"Suits me," said a deputy. His companions nodded.
"Then let's get busy. The sand's loose here. We can drag a blanketover this--and leave the rest to the coyotes."
They scraped a long, shallow hole in the arroyo-bed and buried Malveyalong with his saddle and bridle.
The Spider smiled as he saw them coming. He was still smiling as hewatched them ride up the street and tie their tired ponies to thehitching-rail. He identified the led horse as the one Malvey hadstolen from Pete.
"I see you got him," he said in his high-pitched voice.
The chief deputy nodded. "He's planted--out there."
"I meant the horse," said The Spider.
Ordinarily, The Spider was a strange man. The posse thought himunusually queer just then. His eyes seemed dulled with a peculiarfaint, bluish film. His manner was over-deliberate. There wassomething back of it all that they could not fathom. Moreover, theplace was darkened. Some one had hung blankets over the windows. Thedeputies--four of them--followed The Spider into the saloon.
"I guess you boys want to eat," said The Spider.
"We sure do."
"All right. I'll have Manuelo get you something." And he called tothe Mexican, telling him to place a table in the private room--TheSpider's own room, back of the bar. While the Mexican preparedbreakfast, the posse accepted their chief's invitation to have a drink,which they felt they needed. Presently The Spider led the way to hisroom. The deputies, somewhat suspicious, hesitated on the threshold asthey peered in. A lamp was burning on the table. There were plates,knives and forks, a coffee-pot, a platter of bacon . . . Beyond thelamp stood Young Pete, his back toward the couch and facing them. Hiseyes were like the eyes of one who walks in his sleep.
The Spider held up his hand. "You're planted--out there. Thesegentlemen say so. So you ain't here!"
Pete's belt and gun lay on the floor. The Spider was in hisshirt-sleeves and apparently unarmed.
The chief deputy sized up the situation in a flash and pulled his gun."I guess we got you--this trip, Pete."
"No," said The Spider. "You're wrong. He's planted--out there. Whatyou staring at, boys? Pete, stand over there. Come right in, boys!Come on in! I got something to show you."
"Watch the door, Jim," said the chief. "Ed, you keep your eye on TheSpider." The chief deputy stepped to the table and peered across it ata huddled something on the couch, over which was thrown a shimmeringserape. He stepped round the table and lifted a corner of the serape.Boca's sightless eyes stared up at him.
"Christ!" he whispered. "It's the girl!" And even as he spoke he knewwhat had happened--that he and his men were responsible for this. Hishand shook as he turned toward The Spider.
"She--she ran into it when she-- It's pretty tough, but--"
"Your breakfast is waiting," said The Spider.
"This was accidental," said the deputy, recovering himself, andglancing from one to another of his men. Then he turned to Pete."Pete, you'll have to ride back with us."
"No," said The Spider with a peculiar stubborn shrug of his shoulders."He's planted out there. You said so."
"That's all right, Spider. We made a mistake. This is the man wewant."
"Then who is planted out there?" queried The Spider in a soft,sing-song voice, high-pitched and startling.
"That's our business," stated the deputy.
"No--mine!" The Spider glanced past the deputy, who turned to face aMexican standing in the doorway. The Mexican's hands were held belthigh and they were both "filled."
"Get the first
man that moves," said The Spider in Mexican. And as hespoke his own hand flashed to his armpit, and out again like the strokeof a snake. Behind his gun gleamed a pair of black, beady eyes, ascold as the eyes of a rattler. The deputy read his own doom and thedeath of at least two of his men should he move a muscle. He had YoungPete covered and could have shot him down; Pete was unarmed. Thedeputy lowered his gun.
Pete blinked and drew a deep breath. "Give me a gun, Spider--and we'llshoot it out with 'em, right here."
The Spider laughed. "No. You're planted out there. These gents sayso. I'm working this layout."
"Put up your gun, Ed," said the chief, addressing the deputy who hadThe Spider covered. "He's fooled us, proper."
"Let 'em out, one at a time," and The Spider gestured to the Mexican,Manuelo. "And tell your friends," he continued, addressing the chiefdeputy, "that Showdown is run peaceful _and that I run her_."
When they were gone The Spider turned to Pete. "Want to ride back toConcho?"
Pete, who had followed The Spider to the saloon, did not seem to hearthe question. Manuelo was already sweeping out with a broom which hehad dipped in a water-bucket--as casually busy as though he had neverhad a gun in his hand. Something in the Mexican's supreme indifferencetouched Pete's sense of humor. He shrugged his shoulders.
"Who's goin' to tell her father?" he queried, gesturing toward theinner room.
"He knows," said The Spider, who stood staring at the Mexican.
"You're drunk," said Pete.
"Maybe I'm drunk," echoed The Spider. "But I'm her father."
Pete stepped forward and gazed into The Spidery scarred and lined face."Hell!" Then he thrust out his hand. "Spider, I reckon I'll throw inwith you."
The Ridin' Kid from Powder River Page 25