VI
THE INCENDIARY
Events of no apparent moment have extensive issues now and then, and whilecattle-man and homesteader braced themselves for the conflict which theyfelt would come, the truce might have lasted longer but for the fact thatone night Muller slept indifferently in the new house he had built. He wasnever quite sure what made him restless, or prompted him to open and leanout of his window; and, when he had done this, he saw and heard nothingunusual for a while.
On one hand the birch bluff rose, a dusky wall, against the indigo of thesky, and in front of him the prairie rolled away, silent and shadowy.There was scarcely a sound but the low ripple of the creek, until,somewhere far off in the distance, a coyote howled. The drawn-out wail hadin it something unearthly, and Muller, who was by no means an imaginativeman, shivered a little. The deep silence of the great empty landemphasized by the sound reacted upon him and increased his restlessness.
Scarcely knowing why he did so, except that he felt he could not sleep, heslipped on a few garments, and moved softly to the door, that he might notdisturb his daughter. There was no moon when he went out, but the starsshone clearly in the great vault of blue, and the barns and stables he hadbuilt rose black against the sky. Though Grant had lent him assistance andhe had hewn the lumber on the spot, one cannot build a homestead and equipit for nothing, and when he had provided himself with working horses,Muller had sunk the last of his scanty capital in the venture. It wasperhaps this fact which induced him to approach the stable, movingnoiselessly in his slippers, and glance within.
The interior was black and shadowy, but there was no doubting the factthat the beasts were moving restlessly. Muller went in, holding his breathas he peered about him, and one broncho backed away as he approached itsstall. Muller patted it on the flank, and the horse stood still, as thoughreassured, when it recognized him, which was not without its meaning. Helistened, but hearing nothing groped round the stable, and taking ahayfork went out as softly as he had entered, and took up his post in thedeepest shadow, where he commanded outbuildings and house. There was, heknew, nobody but Grant dwelling within several leagues of him, and as yetproperty was at least as safe in that country as it was in Chicago or NewYork; but as he leaned, impassively watchful, against the wall, heremembered an episode which had happened a few weeks earlier.
He had been overtaken by a band of stockriders when fording the creek withhis daughter, and one who loitered behind them reined his horse in andspoke to the girl. Muller never knew what his words had been; but he sawthe sudden colour in the fraeulein's face, and seized the man's bridle. Analtercation ensued, and when the man rejoined his comrades, who apparentlydid not sympathize with him, his bridle hand hung limp and the farmer wassmiling as he swung a stick. Muller attached no especial importance to theaffair; but Grant, who did not tell him so, differed in this when he heardof it. He knew that the cattle-rider is usually rather chivalrous thanaddicted to distasteful gallantries.
In any case, Muller heard nothing for a while, and felt tempted to returnto his bed when he grew chilly. He had, however, spent bitter nightsstalking the franc tireurs in the snow, and the vigilance taught anddemanded by an inflexible discipline had not quite deserted him, though hewas considerably older and less nimble now. At last, however, a dim,moving shadow appeared round a corner of the building, stopped a moment,and then slid on again towards the door. So noiseless was it that Mullercould almost have believed his eyes had deceived him until he heard thehasp rattle. Still, he waited until the figure passed into the stable, andthen very cautiously crept along the wall. Muller was not so vigorous ashe had been when proficiency in the use of the bayonet had been drilledinto him; but while his fingers tightened on the haft of the fork hefancied that he had still strength enough to serve his purpose. He hadalso been taught to use it to the best advantage.
He straightened himself a little when he stood in the entrance and lookedabout him. There was a gleam of light in the stable now, for a lanternstood upon a manger and revealed by its uncertain glimmer a pile ofprairie hay, with a kerosene-can upon it, laid against the logs. Mullerwas not wholly astonished, but he was looking for more than that, and thenext moment he saw a shadowy object apparently loosing the nearest horse'shalter. It was doubtless a merciful deed, but it was to cost theincendiary dear; for when, perhaps warned by some faint sound, he lookedup suddenly, he saw a black figure between him and the door.
On the instant he dropped the halter, and the hand that had held ittowards his belt; but, as it happened, the horse pinned him against thestall, and his opportunity had passed when it moved again. Muller haddrawn his right leg back with his knee bent a trifle, and there was arattle as he brought the long fork down to the charge. Thus, when the manwas free the deadly points twinkled in a ray from the lantern within afoot of his breast. It was also unpleasantly evident that a heave of thefarmer's shoulder would bury them in the quivering flesh.
"Hands oop!" a stern voice said.
The man delayed a second. The butt of the pistol that would equalize theaffair was almost within his grasp, and Muller stood in the light, but hesaw an ominous glint in the pale blue eyes and the farmer's fingerstighten on the haft. There was also a suggestive raising of one shoulder;and his hands went up above his head. Muller advanced the points an inchor two, stiffening his right leg, and smiled grimly. The other man staredstraight in front of him with dilated eyes, and a little grey patchgrowing larger in either cheek.
"Are you going to murder me, you condemned Dutchman?" he said.
"Yes," said Muller tranquilly, "if you der movement make. So! It is donewithout der trouble when you have der bayonet exercise make."
The points gleamed as they swung forward, and the man gasped; but theystopped at the right second, and Muller, who had hove his burly form atrifle more upright, sank back again, bringing his foot down with a stamp.The little demonstration was more convincing than an hour of argument.
"Well," said the man hoarsely, "I'm corralled. Throw that thing away, andI'll give you my pistol."
Muller laughed, and then raised his great voice in what was to the otheran unknown tongue. "Lotta," he said, "Come quick, and bring the Americanrifle."
There was silence for perhaps five minutes, and the men watched eachother, one white in the face and quivering a little, his adversaryimpassive as a statue, but quietly observant. Then there was a patter ofhasty footsteps, and the fraeulein stood in the lantern light with aflushed, plump face and somewhat scanty dress. She apparently recognizedthe man, and her colour deepened, but that was the only sign of confusionshe showed; and it was evident that the discipline of the fatherland hadnot been neglected in Muller's household.
"Lotta," he said in English, "open der little slide. You feel dercartridge? Now, der butt to der shoulder, und der eye on der sight, as Ihave teach you. Der middle of him is der best place. I shout, und youpress quite steady."
He spoke with a quiet precision that had its effect; and, whatever thegirl felt, she obeyed each command in rotation. There was, however, onedanger which the stranger realized, and that was that with an involuntarycontraction of the forefinger she might anticipate the last one.
"She'll shoot me before she means to," he said, with a little gasp. "Comeand take the condemned pistol."
"Der middle of him!" said Muller tranquilly. "No movement make, you!"
Dropping the fork he moved forward, not in front of the man, but to hisside, and whipped the pistol from his belt.
"One turn make," he said. "So! Your hand behind you. Lotta, you will now ahalter get."
The girl's loose bodice rose and fell as she laid down the rifle, but shewas swift, and in less than another minute Muller had bound his captive'shands securely behind his back and cross-lashed them from wrist to elbow.He inspected the work critically and then nodded, as if contented.
"SHE'LL SHOOT ME BEFORE SHE MEANS TO."--Page 66.]
"Lotta," he said, "put der saddle on der broncho horse. Then in der houseyou der cordial fin
d, und of it one large spoonful mit der water take. Mypipe you bring me also, und then you ride for Mr. Grant."
The girl obeyed him; and when the drumming of horse-hoofs died away Mullersat down in front of his prisoner, who now lay upon a pile of prairie hay,and with his usual slow precision lighted his big meerschaum. The Americanwatched him for a minute or two, and then grew red in the face as a fit ofpassion shook him.
"You condemned Dutchman!" he said.
Muller laughed. "Der combliment," he said, "is nod of much use to-night."
It was an hour later when Grant and several horsemen arrived, and henodded as he glanced at the prisoner.
"I figured it was you. There's not another man on the prairie mean enoughfor this kind of work," he said, pointing to the kerosene-can. "You didn'teven know enough to do it decently, and you're about the only Americanwho'd have let an old man tie his hands."
The prisoner winced perceptibly. "Well," he said hoarsely, glancingtowards the hayfork, rifle, and pistol, which still lay at Muller's feet,"if you're astonished, look at the blamed Dutchman's armoury."
"I've one thing to ask you," Grant said sternly. "It's going to pay you tobe quite straight with me. Who hired you?"
There was defiance in the incendiary's eyes, but Grant was right in hissurmise that he was resolute only because that of the two fears whichoppressed him he preferred to bear the least.
"You can ask till you get sick of it, but you'll get nothing out of me,"he said.
"Take him out," said Grant. "Put him on to the led horse. If you'll comeround to my place for breakfast, I'll be glad to see you, Muller."
"I come," said Muller. "Mit der franc tireur it is finish quicker, buthere in der Republic we reverence have for der law."
Grant laughed a little. "Well," he said drily, "I'm not quite sure."
He swung himself to the saddle, swept off his hat to the girl, who stoodwith the lantern light upon her in the doorway, smiling but flushed, andshook his bridle. Then there was a jingle that was lost in the thud ofhoofs, and the men vanished into the shadowy prairie. Half an hour laterthe homestead was once more dark and silent; but three men sent out byGrant were riding at a reckless gallop across the great dusky levels, andbreakfast was not finished when those whom they had summoned reachedFremont ranch.
They were young men for the most part, and Americans, though there were afew who had only just become so among them, and two or three whose grimfaces and grey hair told of a long struggle with adversity. They were cladin blue shirts and jean, and the hard brown hands of most betokened aclose acquaintance with plough stilt, axe, and bridle, though here andthere one had from his appearance evidently lived delicately. All appearedquietly resolute, for they knew that the law which had given them theright to build their homes upon that prairie as yet left them to bear therisks attached to the doing of it. Hitherto, the fact that the greatranchers had made their own laws and enforced them had been ignored ortacitly accepted by the State.
When they were seated, one of the men deputed to question the prisoner,stood up. "You can take it that there's nothing to be got out of him," hesaid.
"Still," said another, "we know he is one of Clavering's boys."
There was a little murmur, for of all the cattle-barons Clavering was theonly man who had as yet earned his adversaries' individual dislike. Theywere prepared to pull down the others because their interests, which theyhad little difficulty in fancying coincided with those of their country,demanded it; but Clavering, with his graceful insolence, ironical contemptof them, and thinly-veiled pride, was a type of all their democracyanathematized. More than one of them had winced under his soft laugh andlightly spoken jibes, which rankled more than a downright injury.
"The question is what we're going to do with him," said a third speaker.
Again the low voices murmured, until a man stood up. "There's one cure forhis complaint, and that's a sure one, but I'm not going to urge it now,"he said. "Boys, we don't want to be the first to take up the rifle, and itwould make our intentions quite as plain if we dressed him in a coat oftar and rode him round the town. Nobody would have any use for him afterthat, and it would be a bigger slap in Clavering's face than anything elsewe could do to him."
Some of the men appeared relieved, for it was evident they had no greatliking for the sterner alternative; and there was acclamation until Grantrose quietly at the head of the table.
"I've got to move a negative," he said. "It would be better if you handedhim to the Sheriff."
There was astonishment in most of the faces, and somebody said, "TheSheriff! He'd let him go right off. The cattle-men have got the screw onhim."
"Well," said Larry quietly, "he has done his duty so far, and may do itagain. I figure we ought to give him the chance."
Exclamations of dissent followed, and a man with a grim, lean face stoodup. He spoke tolerable English, but his accent differed from that of therest.
"The first man put it straight when he told you there was only onecure--the one they found out in France a hundred years ago," he said. "Youdon't quite realize it yet. You haven't lived as we did back there acrossthe sea, and seen your women thrust off the pavement into the gutter tomake room for an officer, or been struck with the sword-hilt if youresented an insult before your fellow citizens. Will you take off yourhats to the rich men who are trampling on you, you republicans, and, whilethey leave you the right of speech, beg them to respect your rights andliberties? Do that, and sit still a little, and they'll fasten the yokewe've groaned under on your necks."
"I don't know that it isn't eloquent, but it isn't business," saidsomebody.
The man laughed sardonically. "That's where you're wrong," he said. "I'mtrying to show you that if you want your liberties you've got to fight forthem, and your leader doesn't seem to know when, by hanging one man, hecan save a hundred from misery. It's not the man who laid the kindlingyou're striking at, but, through him, those who employed him. Let them seeyou'll take your rights without leave of them. They've sent you warningthat if you stay here they'll burn your homesteads down, and they'rewaiting your answer. Hang their firebug where everyone can see him, in themiddle of the town."
It was evident that the men were wavering. They had come there with thelaw behind them, but, from their youth up, some following visions thatcould never be realized, had hated the bureaucrat, and the rest, crippledby the want of dollars, had fought with frost and drought and hail. It wasalso plain that they felt the capture of the incendiary had given them anopportunity. Then, when a word would have turned the scale, Grant stood upat the head of the table, very resolute in face.
"I still move a negative and an amendment, boys," he said. "First, thoughthat's not the most important, because I've a natural shrinking frombutchering an unarmed man. Secondly, it was not the cattle-men who senthim, but one of them, and just because he meant to draw you on it would bethe blamedest bad policy to humour him. Would Torrance, or Allonby, or theothers, have done this thing? They're hard men, but they believe they'reright, as we do, and they're Americans. Now for the third reason: whenClavering meant to burn Muller's homestead, he struck at me, guessing thatsome of you would stand behind me. He knew your temper, and he'd havelaughed at us as hot-blooded rabble--you know how he can do it--when he'dput us in the wrong. Well, this time we'll give the law a show."
There was discussion, but Larry sat still, saying nothing further, with acurious gravity in his face, until a man stood up again.
"We think you're right," he said. "Still, there's a question. What are yougoing to do if they try again?"
"Strike," said Larry quietly. "I'll go with you to the hanging of the nextone."
Nothing more was said, and the men rode away with relief in their faces,though three of them, girt with rifle and bandolier, trotted behind thewagon in which the prisoner sat.
The Cattle-Baron's Daughter Page 6