It was nearly six o'clock but still dark this winter morning when Three Finger stamped into the saloon. One look at his contorted face was enough to show that he was decidedly ill-tempered. Dante should have been in hours ago. What was keeping him? He gulped down four fingers of liquor and grimaced savagely as he threw down the glass. The bartender receded to the far corner of the bar. It was the act of prudence to keep as far away from Three Finger as possible when he looked like this. The scar on his ugly face was livid as he began pacing the floor.
Fifteen minutes later Dante came rushing into the saloon. Three Finger stopped his walking to stare at his stool pigeon angrily.
"Yore late!" he rasped. "What'd yuh find out?"
"Everything, Three Finger! We can take 'em like that!" He snapped his fingers. "God! I rode on their trail all night!"
"Wal, hurry up! What is it?" Three Finger demanded impatiently.
"Get yore men! I'll take yuh to 'em!"
"I know where the gal is. Buck come in two hours ago. But do yuh know where Pokerface Bob is?"
"Hell's blazes, didn't I say I knows where they is? Didn't I trail Pokerface from his hideout to the gal? Gimme a fresh horse. I'm in on that reward!"
"Like hell yuh are! The boss is payin' yuh! I'm gettin' the dust out o' this haul!"
Dante whirled about to face the ugly visage staring at him. "Why, damn yuh, I'll--" His hand slipped toward his gun.
Three Finger waited. The gun had partly cleared leather, when Three Finger stooped forward slightly. A gun leaped into his hand. There was an instant report. Dante dropped his gun, clutched at his chest, swayed and fell forward on his face. Three Finger calmly sheathed his gun.
Turning to the bartender he said calmly, "The damned fool drawed on me."
He had cautioned Buck not to give out any information to anyone, least of all to Plummer, with the promise of a thousand dollars for his trouble. Buck was glad enough to accept the offer, as he supposed there was only a reward of two thousand dollars for Pokerface Bob. He knew nothing of the reward for the girl.
Three Finger had already sent new guards to spy on the Davis cabin, as well as the others. When night came he would close in and take his prisoners. Tonight he would demand his money and turn over the prisoners. Then he would watch his chance, put Plummer out of the way, and take the gal. Oh, he'd make sure that Pokerface was bumped off. That could be done when they took him. In fact it would be easier. Plummer would prefer to have him delivered dead. He hadn't the least doubt now but that he would find the gal and Pokerface in the same place.
* * * *
Daisy had been right--Dixie had put the heart back into Bob again. He no longer relished the evasive defensive play. He could not endure the long lonely winter months ahead of him, knowing that Dixie was in constant danger.
He had tried to sleep after he returned to his cabin that morning, but it was no use. He arose and began pacing the floor. Something had to be done. He would have to get into action or go mad. But what? His way was blocked. Angry men, men who were after the price on his head, were scouring the Basin and hills for him. What chance had he against them--he, a lone wolf? He ran his fingers through his hair and stared unseeingly into the fireplace.
Up until now he had refused the aid of the small Vigilance Association, because it incurred serious consequences if they failed, and he would be to blame. Yet now things had a different outlook. They would be fighting, not only for him, but for the future safety of their women and children. For what they would do to Dixie they would do to the wives and daughters of any of the men in the Basin if they chose. After all, the fight was not his alone, and he would hesitate no longer. Tonight, as soon as it was safe, he would ride back. He would arouse the Vigilantes. He would put the problem straight up to them. If they agreed they would begin an offensive at once.
As he made up his mind the old vim came back to him. It was better to die in the fight for a principle than run away from difficulty and danger to save a man's miserable life. If he fought it through and came out alive, then he had many things to look forward to. He now suddenly believed in the possibility of the picture he had painted to Dixie--a neat little home in this very valley. It would be beautiful when spring came and the grass and wild flowers grew. There they would raise a family, maybe a son, as Dixie had said.
It seemed an endless time until night. He mended the cinch of his saddle. He oiled his guns and fit the shiny shells in the magazines again. He flipped the cylinders affectionately.
"Stay with me on this one job," he talked to them as though they were alive and understood, "and I'll hang you on the rack forever."
At last he forced himself to lie down again, and blissful sleep finally overcame him.
* * * *
It was almost night when Plummer and his men rode back into Bannock after a long day's fruitless search for Pokerface Bob and Dixie Lee. Plummer was surly over their failure. He at once instituted a search for Three Finger, and when he didn't find him he proceeded to get drunk--something that Hen Plummer seldom did.
He cursed and swore at his deputies, blaming them for failure. As he sullenly brooded he became more and more suspicious of Three Finger. He saw now that the gun fighter had purposely kept him out of Placerville for only one reason--Pokerface Bob was there.
"Boys," he said, "at the break of day we head for Placerville. Pokerface is there or we'd have found him before this. If that damn Three Finger has double crossed me, I'll shoot it out with him! I'm going to get Pokerface--the damned yellow belly! He can't bulldoze Hen Plummer!"
Meanwhile, Three Finger, with ten picked men, was headed for the Davis cabin in the gulch in Placerville. Already he was gloating over the triumph he would have over Pokerface Bob and Hen Plummer. Then he would have the gal in the bargain. He'd keep her hidden or maybe he'd make her marry him at once. Yes, that was it, he'd make her marry him.
He instructed the men as they rode. "We'll surround the house when we git there, an' I'll git in er bust in. If Pokerface Bob's there, I'll git him. We'll be totin' a gal back with us, an', by God, I don't want no harm tuh come tuh her!"
It was dark in the cabin when Bob awoke. He had slept longer than he had intended. He sprang from his blankets and kindled a fire over the few live coals. He cut some thin slices of bacon, arranged them deftly in the pan, slipped the pan on the coals, and the bacon began to sizzle deliciously. He was actually hungry for the first time in days. Nothing robs a man of his appetite quicker than worry and indecision. Now that he had decided on a course he ceased to worry, and he was fairly ravenous. He set the coffee pot over the coals and the aroma of the boiling liquid soon filled the room. He mixed up some sour dough flapjacks and cooked them in the pan which had contained the bacon, which was still sizzling on a tin plate on the hot stone hearth.
After he had eaten he buckled on his guns, flipped the tail of his beaded vest over the heavy cartridge belt, put on his bearskin coat and stepped out into the night. The stars were snapping in the cold night. The ice on the nearby pond cracked like a pistol shot and reverberated across the flat.
One of the pack mules, seeking shelter from the biting north breeze, stood hunched up beside the log stable. A lonely wolf howled, then a chorus of others answered, until the whole flat resounded with their mournful echoes.
Bob went into the stable where Star Face was standing with his blanket on.
"Star Face," he said, "you and I are going into action tonight, and I'm going to be good to you and give you a good rubdown first. We'll maybe have to go a long ways, and I might never have a chance to do this for you again." The horse nuzzled him lovingly.
* * * *
Shorty Windless was wakened from a deep sleep by frantic pounding on his door. Daisy screamed and sat bolt upright, only half awake. Shorty was on his feet in the middle of the room before he realized it.
"What tuh hell's the matter?" he called.
"Open up quick, Shorty!"
Shorty recognized Pat Davis's voice, and f
rom its frantic tone he knew something dreadful had happened. He opened the door.
Davis whisked inside, his red beard bristling with frost. "It's Dixie! Three Finger Smith 's got Dixie! Him and a bunch of his gang has run away with her!"
"Which way'd they go, Pat? Goddam 'em! We'll git 'em!" he raged as he jerked on his clothes.
"Went toward Bannock, my woman said, but I wasn't home. I been in Bannock myself. I knowed something was comin' off, but didn't expect it till later. I was jest waitin' tuh make shore. Plummer and his men--I was watchin' them--was comin' up in the mornin', but Three Finger beat 'em tuh it!"
"How long ago did it happen, Pat?"
"About a hour ago, maybe longer."
"Then it won't do no good tuh foller 'em with only yuh an' me an' Jim an' Ranger. I'll be teetotally damned! I'm goin' tuh call the Vigilance Association! If we don't do something, Pat, we'll all be did fer, women an' all! Yuh take Ranger with yuh to rouse the Vigilantes, an' I'll have Jim stay with Daisy. I'm goin' tuh git Bob. Have 'em meet here. I kin have Bob here at daybreak."
A moment later Pat Davis was pounding on the door of Jim's cabin. A light flared and the door opened. Shorty saddled his horse and was gone before Jim and his partner were dressed. Their success or failure this night would determine the fate of Bob Bainbridge and his Vigilantes in the fight for the new empire.
28
HEN PLUMMER WAS STILL PACING THE FLOOR IN his room in the hotel when Three Finger opened the door. Plummer whirled on him.
"Where in hell have you been keeping yourself?"
Three Finger made no answer but slowly tamped his pipe with tobacco and lighted it. He straddled a chair and folded his arms across the back of it.
"Speak up, you infernal devil! Are you dumb?"
Three Finger spoke coolly and with meaning. "I come tuh collect five thousand from yuh, Plummer."
"Did yuh get him?" Plummer's eyes snapped anxiously. "Where is he? Is he dead or alive?"
"I didn't catch him this time, but I've got the gal."
"You mean you let him get away?" Plummer put a nervous hand to the back of his neck and gradually brought it around to his throat.
"He wasn't with her, but he was last night, fer one o' my men saw him. If I don't miss my guess, he'll be down on top o' us fer this. I've ordered our trusty deputies, seventy-five o' 'em, tuh hang around. Now, where's my money?"
"Where's the gal? Bring her to me. If things get too hot we'll have to make a fast getaway."
"She's safe enough, an' I knows whar she is, but nobody finds out till I git my claws on that five thousand."
"But I haven't got that much on me, and you know it," defended Plummer. "It's in the safe."
"They ain't no reason why yuh kain't go an' git it, is there?"
"I'll get it in the morning and give it to you. I tell you there isn't time for that now!"
Three Finger was eyeing him coldly. Glints of green showed in each eye. "Git that money, Plummer!" he said slowly, menacingly.
"All right--all right, if you don't trust me!" bellowed the sheriff.
"I ain't trustin' even my gran'mother! An' remember, they ain't tuh be no citizens in on this. Once they learn about this an'--there'll be a rope around our necks."
"Will you take me to her tonight, Three Finger? Then we'll throw our men about the place to guard it in case we're attacked by his gang."
"The gang's already about the place. She's as safe as if she was in yore jail, an' a damn sight safer. There ain't enough men in the Basin tuh take her away from that gang. But when I gits my hands on the money I'll bring her here."
"God! I wish Pokerface was out of the way!" Plummer cursed. "You never know what he's going to do. Oh, well--I'll get the money for you."
"I'll go with yuh, Plummer, jest in case yuh might be tempted tuh shoot me in the back."
* * * *
Bob Bainbridge had crossed the summit and was making his way into the Basin at a swinging gait when he caught sight of a rider coming up the trail toward him at breakneck speed. His heart contracted with fear as he intuitively surmised what had happened. Another instant and he recognized Shorty. He gave his horse the spurs to lessen the gap between them as quickly as possible. Both horses skidded in the crusted snow as they met.
"Three Finger's got Dixie!" Shorty shouted.
Bob's face blanched. Without a word he dug his spurs into the horse's flanks. Star Face shot forward. Bob urged him to his topmost speed. He seemed to forget that Shorty was with him. The miles flew by under the pounding hoofs. The trees, black and formidable, flashed by like black shadows.
As Bob's reasoning began trekking back he slackened his speed. There could be nothing gained by killing his horse. He must go at this thing calmly, for the odds were a hundred to one against him.
A half hour later the two partners stopped in front of Shorty's cabin where forty stalwart sober Vigilantes had gathered. These hardy quiet men who had answered Shorty's call meant business. Each was heavily armed. Bob greeted them soberly. He knew only too well that they were risking their lives if they failed in their mission.
The silver night was well spent and the day was fast creeping over the sky when Pat Davis came galloping into the yard.
"What news?" Bob asked anxiously.
"They must be seventy-five or more deputies hangin' around the hotel an' the Bannock Saloon, an' all's heavy armed. They's lookin' fer us tuh attack."
"Did you see Plummer or Three Finger Smith?"
"I seen Plummer once, but I don't think Three Finger's there. Leastways I didn't spy him."
Bob became very quiet as he weighed the doubtful situation. At length he turned his horse to face the men. His face looked grey in the morning light, but the lines of his rugged face were hard, and his voice gave no evidence of the emotions within.
"Well, boys, it looks like we're driving up a blind alley," he began. "We're in the dark and we're outnumbered two to one or better. The only thing we know is that they have Dixie, but we haven't any idea where she is. Men, they have committed a heinous crime against the decency and honor of our inland empire. We must remember that we are but a handful to go up against these desperate criminals. They're on the defensive now and have the added advantage of representing the only law in these parts. If we ride into town in a body and strike, some or all of us will be wiped out and many innocent people may be killed.
"Love and duty calls me to rescue Dixie Lee or die in the attempt. I'll be perfectly honest with you. I'm not certain, in any degree, of our success. I can't ask you to go further into this thing. If any or all of you want to turn back, now is the time."
"Go on! Go on!" came the shouts from the loyal Vigilantes.
"Then let's go!" he called, leading them down the trail toward Bannock City.
As they came nearer and nearer the stronghold of the enemy the more serious he became, the more formidable their objective appeared. In Bob's fancy, he could imagine every conceivable torture to Dixie, his Dixie. He could see the snow, blood red, from dying men who were so loyal to him.
29
THREE FINGER AND PLUMMER WERE SILENTLY watching each other. They had locked the girl in an upstairs room of the hotel and had agreed to skip the country toward Fort Boise after nightfall. They both realized the danger to themselves if the citizens of the Basin got wise to what they had done, but neither trusted the other to keep faith.
They had not slept all night, and had kept their hirelings in readiness to meet any attack from Pokerface Bob and his few followers. The attack had been so long delayed they began to wonder if one would be made, or if Pokerface Bob had given up and decided to save his own neck.
"I tell you, Three Finger, we're not safe till Pokerface is wiped out!" Plummer declared. "Your idea that he won't fight is no good. I think when he finds out the gal's gone he'll come fighting. If we don't get him today--I'll take the gal and take a vacation. You, being chief deputy, will take charge till I get back."
"Uh-huh," Three Finger sneere
d. He had other thoughts and plans which would beat that.
The sun had risen and sent a beam of yellow light in at the window. Three Finger walked to the window and looked out on the street. His first glance was naturally up the street toward the northeast. In a gesture of excitement he threw back the calico curtain and his eyes bulged.
"They's comin', Plummer! Yuh gits yore wish! Looks like fifty men ridin' this way!"
Instantly Plummer was at his side. "God ! I didn't think he could get so many men together! We can't let them come into town! Even if we lick them we'll be found out! Give the order to advance and command them in the name of the law to surrender and deliver up their arms."
"Go tuh the devil!" rasped Three Finger. "Do yore own commandin'! This here is one fight yore goin' tuh take a hand in!"
Plummer saw that he could not keep under cover any longer. Three Finger was forcing him into the open. He would have to fight this battle. He would get Pokerface if possible, then he could deal with Three Finger.
"Come on, then!" he commanded coldly. "This will be the decisive blow for Hen Plummer and his gang!"
The Vigilantes had turned into the street, as yet unfenced. A hundred yards farther, where the street crossed a ravine, Bob stopped his men.
"They've seen us. They're certainly getting ready for us. This is where we'll take our stand; it's a natural bulwark. I think they'll be headed this way any minute. Ride down into the ravine where the horses will be out of sight. Then we can climb up on foot behind the bank."
Instantly his orders were obeyed as grim-faced men tried the action of their guns and took their places behind the embankment.
The Bitterroot Trail Page 21