CHAPTER XVIII
The four men stayed at Muletown that night and drove across the hot,dry levels of the Fernandez plain in the early morning. In thefoothills of the Hermosa mountains there was a little place calledAgua Fria--Cold Water. It was a short distance off the main road, buttravelers across the plain frequently went thither to refreshthemselves and their beasts with the cool waters which it furnished.It was only a small Mexican ranch, irrigated by a bountiful flow ofwater from a never failing spring. Cottonwood trees surrounded thehouse, and around the spring grew a little peach orchard. The ruins ofa mining camp, long since deserted, could be seen on the hill above.
Emerson Mead and his companions turned aside into the road leading tothe Agua Fria ranch and drew rein in the shade of the peach trees. Awoman was washing clothes beside the spring and a man came from anear-by field where he was at work. They chatted with the couple whilethe horses were allowed to rest in the shade. Presently Tuttle andEllhorn remounted and started slowly back, leaving Mead and Harlin inthe buggy, ready to go, but exchanging some last words with theMexican. The road curved below the house, through the trees, and asTuttle and Ellhorn came out on the other side they saw a party ofhorsemen approaching from the main road. At once they recognized JohnDaniels and Jim Halliday, who were riding in the front. Behind themcame half a dozen others, and in the rear of the company they sawColonel Whittaker with some pack horses. Tom and Nick drew back intothe cover of the trees and conferred a moment over the probableintentions of the party.
"They are all armed," said Tom. "Six-shooters and Winchesters on everyone."
"I'll bet they're after Emerson, Tommy," Nick exclaimed. "They wanttrouble, and I reckon we'd better begin to give it to 'em right now."
They drew their rifles from beside their saddles, for the men werestill too far away for the use of revolvers. Then Tom looked at Nickdoubtfully.
"Nick, what do you-all think would be Emerson's judgment? You know healways wants the other side to begin the fight."
"My judgment is that the sooner this fight is begun the better. Themfellows are out here lookin' for trouble, and I say, if a man wantstrouble, Lord! let him have it!"
He raised his rifle to his shoulder and sent a bullet singing down theroad, saying to Tom as he fired: "This is just to let 'em know we'rehere."
The bullet creased the neck of Halliday's horse, which reared andplunged with sudden fright. The whole party checked their horses insurprise and looked intently toward the clump of cottonwoods fromwhich the shot had come. Tom raised his gun to his shoulder, saying,"You've started the fun, Nick, so here goes," and he sent a rifle ballwhizzing past Daniels' ear. Harlin and Mead dashed around the house inthe buggy, jumped out, and tied their horses in the rear of the trees.Tuttle and Ellhorn dismounted and dropped their bridles.
The approaching party paused for a moment in a close group and held anexcited conference. Then they separated and, drawing their guns fromthe saddle scabbards, sent a volley into the grove. Four rifle bulletsmade quick answer and set their horses to rearing. It was some timebefore the beasts could be made quiet enough for the shots to bereturned, and in the meantime bullets were pattering all about them.Colonel Whittaker stopped far in the rear with the pack horses, beyondthe reach of the rifle balls, and the others made a sudden dashforward. Checking their horses, they fired a concerted volley into thetrees. One of the bullets scorched the band of Tom's hat.
"Nick," said Tom, "that was Daniels fired that shot. He's gettin' tooimpudent. You take care of him while I clean my gun. Don't you let himget any closer, but don't hurt him, for he's my meat."
He went down on the ground cross-legged and swabbed his gun-barrelwhile the bullets pattered on the ground about him and thudded intothe trees and ploughed up the dirt at his feet. Nick bent his rifleon the sheriff and sent a bullet through his hat brim and anotherthrough his horse's ear, and bit his bridle with one and tore histrouser leg with another. One dropped and stung on the beast's fetlockas Tom sprang to his feet exclaiming, "Now I'll get him!"
Daniels first checked his horse, and then lost control of it as thebridle broke, and when the bullet struck its fetlock it wheeled andwent flying to the rear. The sheriff felt a tingle in his left arm,and, maddened, he seized the severed parts of his bridle and forcedthe horse to face about. Then he bent forward, apparently takingcareful aim at one of the figures beneath the trees, but before hecould fire, his horse reared and plunged and went down in a heapbeneath him.
In the meantime, Nick, Emerson, and Judge Harlin were exchanging rapidshots with the rest of the sheriff's party. Those of the latter wentrather wild, because their frightened horses made it impossible forthem to take careful aim. And also by reason of the constant dancingabout of the beasts, the accurate markmanship of the men under thetrees was not of much avail. Nick found that his magazine was emptyand called out:
"Tom, give me some of your hulls! I used up all mine keepin' yourdarned sheriff back. Gimme some hulls quick!"
He dropped a handful of cartridges into the magazine and raised hisrifle with the remark, "Now see 'em scatter!"
The sharp, crashing din of the Winchesters kept steadily on. One ofthe Daniels party fell over on his horse's neck, and two of theiranimals became unmanageable. Daniels had knelt behind his fallen horseand across its body he was taking careful aim. Tom felt a bullet grazehis cheek, and saw whence it had come. "I'll put a stop to that," heexclaimed, and in another moment the sheriff tumbled over with abullet in his shoulder. Mead felt a sharp pain in one side, and knewthat hot lead had kissed his flesh. It was the first wound he had everreceived. With a scream of pain a horse fell, struggling, beneath itsrider. From one man's hands the rifle dropped and his right arm hunghelpless by his side. Another horseman swayed in his saddle and fellto the ground, and his horse galloped to the rear, dragging the manpart of the way with his foot in the stirrup.
Still the remnant of horsemen held their own against the steady rainof bullets from the trees. Presently a flesh wound made Halliday'shorse unmanageable and it bolted straight for the grove. The four menpaused with fingers on triggers, looking at him in wonder.
"Who would have thought he had the sand to do that!" Mead exclaimed.
Suddenly his horse turned and flew toward the rear. "Whoo-oo-oo-ee!"came a derisive shout from the grove, followed by a volley ofbullets. The other horsemen took advantage of the diverted firing, andmade a dash forward, dropping their rifles across their saddles andusing their revolvers. It was evident that they hoped, by this suddencharge, to dislodge the enemy and force a retreat.
"Out and at 'em, boys," yelled Nick. "Whoo-oo-oo-ee!" And the four menrushed from under cover of the trees, rifles in hand, straight towardthe approaching horsemen.
Dropping on one knee and firing, then rising and running forward a fewsteps, and dropping and firing again, they dashed toward the enemy.Surprised and confused by this sudden move, the horsemen halted,irresolute, then turned and fled down the road.
"Buffaloed!" yelled Mead.
"After 'em, boys!" shouted Judge Harlin. And the four started on therun after the retreating enemy.
"Chase 'em to Plumas!" yelled Nick.
"And learn 'em to let us alone after this!" bellowed Tom, in a voicethat reached the ears of the flying party, above the muffled roar oftheir horses' hoofs.
Halliday had got his horse under control again by the time he reachedthe place where Colonel Whittaker stood guard, beside the pack horses,and after a few hasty words with Whittaker he started back. When hesaw the rout of his party he pulled a handkerchief from his pocketand waving it aloft he came galloping on.
"Look at that, will you!" yelled Nick. "They want to surrender!"
"I reckon they want to have a conference," said Judge Harlin.
The four men halted and stood with their guns in their hands, waitingHalliday's approach.
"Emerson," he called, "do you stick to what you told Mr. Wellesly?"
"What do you mean?"
"That you'd submit to
arrest when we could prove that Will Whittakerdied by violence."
"Certainly, I do."
"Then hand over your guns, for we've got his body!"
"Let me see it first. If I can recognize it I'll keep my word."
"It's back there where his father is."
"Well, bring it here."
"Will you keep the truce?"
"Yes, if you do."
Halliday galloped down the road again, and presently returned withColonel Whittaker. Between them was one of the pack horses withsomething lashed to its back. They walked their horses to the spotwhere the four men stood, untied the pack, spread a blanket on theground, and laid on it the ghastly, mangled remains of what had oncebeen a man's body.
"We found it in the White Sands," Halliday explained. "It had beenburied nearly at the top of the ridge and the coyotes had dug it outand this is all they had left. But his father here, and every one ofus, have identified it."
Mead and his friends looked the body over carefully. The face had beengnawed by coyotes and picked by buzzards until not a recognizablefeature was left. The shining white teeth glared from a lipless mouth.Closely cropped black hair still covered the head. On one hand was aplain gold ring set with a large turquoise.
"You must remember that ring," said the father. Mead nodded. ColonelWhittaker slipped it from the finger, dried and burned by the sun, andshowed the four men the initials, "W. W.," on the inside. The clothingwas badly tattered and much of it had been torn away. Part of a pongeesilk shirt still hung on the body. On the inside of the collar werethe young man's initials worked in red silk. "His mother did that,"said Colonel Whittaker. Around the neck was a dark-colored scarf, andin it was an odd, noticeable pin, a gold nugget of curious shape. Thefour men had all seen Will Whittaker wear it many times. A raggedremnant of a coat hung on the mangled body. In the breast pocketColonel Whittaker showed them some letters and a small memorandumbook. From the book had been torn some leaves and all the remainingpages were blank. But on the inside of the leather cover the name,"Will Whittaker," had been printed in heavy black letters. Rain andsun had almost obliterated the addresses on the two envelopes in thepocket, but enough of the letters could still be made out to show whatthe words had probably been.
Halliday turned the body over and showed them three bullet holes inthe back, in the left shoulder blade. They were so close together thattheir ragged edges touched one another, and a silver dollar would havecovered all of them. Apparently, the man had been shot at close rangeand the bullets had gone through to the heart.
Mead finished his inspection of the body and turned to Halliday. Allthe rest of the party had come up and dismounted and were standingbeside their horses around the grisly, mangled thing and the four menwho were examining it. Several of the men were wounded and blood wasdripping over their clothing. A red mark across Tuttle's cheek showedhow narrow had been his escape, and a bloody stain on Mead's shirttold the story of a flesh wound.
"Jim," Mead began, and then paused, looking Halliday squarely in theeyes, while his own friends and the sheriff's party edged closer, alllistening breathlessly. None of them had any idea what he was going tosay, whether it would be surrender, or defiance and a declaration ofcontinued war. Nick and Tom exchanged glances and cocked theirrevolvers, which they held down beside their legs. "Jim," Mead wenton, "I acknowledge nothing about this body except that, as far as Ican see, it seems to be the body of Will Whittaker and he seems tohave died from these pistol shots. But I reckon it calls, merely onthe face of it, mind, for me to make good the word I gave to Wellesly.Here are my guns."
He handed his rifle to Halliday, unfastened his cartridge belt andpassed that and his revolver to the deputy sheriff. Among theWhittaker party there were some glances of surprise, but more nods ofcongratulation. Nick and Tom looked at each other in indignant dismay.Tom's eyes were full of tears and his lips were twitching. "What didhe want to do that for?" he whispered to Nick. "We had 'em surebuffaloed and on the run, and now he's plum' spoiled the whole thing!"
"I reckon it was the best thing you could do, Emerson," said JudgeHarlin, "but I'm sorry you had to do it."
Mead saw Daniels in the crowd around the body. "Hello, John," hecalled, "I thought we tipped you over just now. Hurt much?"
"No, not much. Only a scratch on the shoulder."
The entire party went around to the spring and bathed one another'swounds, and the Mexican woman tore her sheets into strips and madebandages for them. No one had been killed, but there were a number offlesh wounds and some broken bones. They hired horses of the Mexicanto take the place of those that had been killed and then started forLas Plumas, Mead riding between Daniels and Halliday. Judge Harlin,with Nick and Tom, followed some distance in the rear.
Tom looked after them, as they rode away, with angry eyes. His hugechest was heaving with sobs he could scarcely control. "Damn theirsouls," he exclaimed fiercely to Nick, "if Emerson wasn't among themI'd open on 'em right now."
"How we could buffalo 'em," assented Nick.
"It was a damned shame," Tuttle went on indignantly, "for Emerson togive up that way. We could have cleaned 'em all out and got rid of 'emfor good, if he hadn't given up. We'll never get such a chance again,and the Lord knows what will happen to Emerson now!" And Tom bent hishuge frame over his gun and bowed his head on his hands, while a greatsob convulsed his big bulk from head to foot. He and Judge Harlinargued the question all the way to Las Plumas, and the judge well-nighexhausted his knowledge of law and his ingenuity in argument in theeffort to convince his companion that Emerson Mead had done the bestthing possible for him to do. But the last thing Tom said as they drewup in front of Judge Harlin's office was:
"Well, it was a grand chance to clean out Emerson's enemies, for goodand all, and make an end of 'em, so that he could live here in peace.It was plumb ridiculous not to do it."
With Hoops of Steel Page 18