CHAPTER XXVII
POINTS OF THE COMPASS
The long-slanting shadows found Hopalong and Tex far from Lone TreePass, riding straight for the Double Y ranch. Their chase after Davehad taken them well to the west of south and they had concluded to keepthe horses and equipment and strike for the ranch. As Hopalong sagelyremarked: "Eighty dollars is eighty dollars, Tex, but these here twobronchs 'pear to me purty good stock; besides, what's eighty dollars'longside the money-bag I 'm a-sittin' on?" and he eyed, complacently,the bloated gunny-sack that hid its wealth under so innocent anexterior.
They went ahead with that unerring instinct of the plainsman whose senseof direction seems positively uncanny to a tenderfoot, especially if thetenderfoot has ever been lost. There was no sign of a trail nor didthey expect to see one, until they struck the Big Moose, north of theReservation. This in itself was a source of gratification to them; theywere quite content to meet with no one and all they asked was to be letseverely alone until such time as the money was turned over to Buck andthey should cease to be responsible for it.
The stumbling of the tired horses led them reluctantly to make camp.Hopalong was loath to be away from Mary longer than was necessary; onlythe grim determination to get Buck's money to him with as little risk aspossible had decided him to ride to the ranch instead of taking thetrain from X----, which would have been hours quicker. They haddiscussed this matter, even to the thinking of a possible train hold-up,and Hopalong expressed his very decided preference for the open. "I wasin a train hold-up once," he told Tex, "an' seven of th' boys was n'tnone too many to break it up. Skinny got plugged--not bad--but it mightbe us this time, an' it might be a whole lot worse."
He entertained Tex with the story while they made their simplepreparations for their supper. Tex listened with the ear of a goodlistener, giving voice to his amusement, or endorsement of an action, orprofanely consigning the whole troupe of train robbers to that regionwhere go the "many who are called but not chosen." But all the while,though interested in the tale which concerned so many of his oldfriends, his analytical mind was pondering over the reason of Dave'saction: How had he got the money from Schatz? Why had no one seen Schatzin Wayback? Where had the transfer of the money been made from Schatzto Dave? What had happened to change the plans of the fake hold-up,when Dave was to relieve Schatz of the money? His busy mind approachedthe riddle from many angles, as in the dark of night, a man with alantern might cover a big stretch of country, searching everywhere forthe track which would lead him to the finding of a hidden treasure.Farther and farther afield went Tex, examining, comparing, and rejectingevery possibility that presented itself to his inward vision.Disappointed at the failure of his efforts to discover the solution, hecast from his mind all his useless speculation and adopted the slowerbut surer method which he should have tried at first: He put himself inthe place of Dave--little by little he cast off his own personality andchanged to that of the other, picturing to himself the effect uponDave's cupidity when told of the part he was to play in the stealing ofthe money. So sensitive was his intelligence, so receptive to theshadowy suggestions that beckoned to him, perhaps from that lonely,unmarked grave beside the upper waters of the Little Jill, thatpresently his eyes began to gleam, his lips parted, and he stretched outhis hand to Hopalong in unconscious emphasis. "Th' gunny sack, Hoppy!Where did he get th' gunny sack?"
The ghost of Schatz smiled. Tex was a man after his own heart.
Tex's abstraction had not escaped Hopalong. The end of his talereached, he had put away the balance of the food, seen to the securepicketing of the two horses, put out the fire by the simple expedient ofkicking over it sufficient sand, and had arranged the saddles in such away that they completely hid the sack and could not be disturbed withoutarousing both him and Tex. From time to time he glanced at his silentcompanion, smiling to himself at the sight of such complete absorption.He could see himself over again in Tex, who was almost as old a man,recalling how he had been wont to ponder on the probable movements of anenemy and the pleasure he took, after a victory, in reviewing what hadgone before and checking the mistakes and the successes in hisreasoning. He wondered idly why it had lost its attraction for him andhe concluded, with a whimsical grin, that marriage gave a man otherthings to think about.
But however lost Hopalong might be to inward speculation, no outwardmanifestation of the unusual or unlooked-for failed to appeal to hisalways active and alert senses. The pipe he had been smokingcontentedly was held between his fingers, out and almost cold, his headwas bent to one side and he was listening intently. He put his head tothe ground and then arose to his feet, his ear turned to the straybreeze that was bringing to him faint and disagreeable sounds. WhenTex's hand went out to him and Tex's voice broke in upon those barelyaudible sounds, he grasped the hand and gripped it hard to enjoinsilence. Tex listened with all his ears but the ground noises hadceased and he was not high enough to have the advantage of the wind thatwas vexing Hopalong's hearing. Hopalong silently dragged him to hisfeet; they stood thus for a few seconds and then the look they turnedupon each other was pregnant with significance.
"Makin' quite a noise," said Hopalong. "An' we ain't near th' trailyet. What do you make of it?"
"Dunno," answered Tex. "Had n't ought to be a man within twenty milesof us, Hoppy, 'less it's a Injun--an' them's no Injuns. Sounds to melike singin'."
"Same here," agreed Hopalong. "Can't be a drive herd, can it?"
"Not as I knows of. No herd ever come this way since th' railroad putthrough, an' then they stuck to th' trail."
"We got to find out, Tex," declared Hopalong, decisively. "Can't roostwith a noisy bunch of coyotes like them runnin' 'round an' howlin' forgore."
"I 'll go, Hoppy," said Tex, "an' if I ain't back in an hour, you takeboth cayuses an' hike out for th' ranch."
"An' leave you afoot?" asked Hopalong. "Not by a d--n sight."
"You must, Hoppy. I got a reputation that 'll serve me with eitherhonest men or thieves. I can't come to no harm. 'Tother way, you mightget hurt. Two of us can't get away on them bronchs, they did too muchto-day already. You 'll have to go at a walk, if you do go. 'Course Idon't stop with that bunch 'less I has to. It's that bag I 'm thinkin'about, Hoppy. If I has to stop, you want to put as much ground as youcan between them an' you. I 'm d--d glad they did n't see our fire."
"All right, Tex. I gives you an hour. 'Tain't more 'n a mile. Geta-goin'."
Tex started away and Hopalong began to get ready for a possible flight.Even if Tex did return they might decide that another location for theircamp would be healthier. As he fastened the saddles to the two animalsthey each turned and looked at him with a disgust as expressive as ifspoken.
Tex made for the spot from which the sounds had come, walking easily butsilently, his form a mere shadow in the star-lit night and invisible onthe lower levels, to which he carefully kept, at a distance of twohundred yards. At the end of ten minutes he was able to distinguishwords and knew that Hoppy's and his surmise had been correct: they hadheard the singing of night riders around a herd. It was theun-called-for presence of a herd in this vicinity which, more than allelse, had led Tex to insist upon the reconnoitre being left to him."Honest men or thieves," he had said. He was very doubtful of findinghonest men. Only the condition of the horses had checked him fromadvising a departure on suspicion.
He was skulking along now, bent double; in his hand, the blade lyingalong his arm, was a knife such as few men in the West carried at thatday and in the use of which Tex was unusually expert. It was entirelycharacteristic of him that he should possess such a weapon: silence inaction is desired by the worst class of man, and Tex had been of thatclass before the enforced association of better men and the heroicallymagnanimous action of an opponent had changed him to the man he was. Heslunk forward with the stealthy prowl of a wolf, glancing to right andleft as he went, hoping to sight the camp of the cattl
emen and get nearenough without being seen, to learn what he had come to find out. Hedropped flat to earth as a sudden snort startled him: he had come uponthe herd without knowing it. A disquieted animal sprang to its feet anddid not lie down again until the soothing voice of the herder wasraised. The song floated down the wind and Tex listened as well as thecow:
"'Now then, young men, don't be melancholy; Just see, like me, if you can't be jolly; If anything goes wrong with me I never sulk nor pout; In fact I am and always was The merriest girl that's out.'"
If the cow were soothed it was quite otherwise with Tex: his hair almostbristled as the rider went past, near enough for the heavy knife to havesped through the air and sunk haft-deep between his shoulders. "ChatterSpence!" sprang to Tex's lips. "Who's he driving for?" a question thathe was still asking himself when another herder neared him, whose choiceof lullaby was probably influenced by that of his companion, for he wascalling out in most lugubrious voice:
'Buffalo gals, are you comin' out to-night, Comin' out to-night, comin' out to-night? Buffalo gals, are you comin' out to-night To dance by th' light of th' moon?'
"It's all wrong," the singer broke off to say in a sing-song voice,that, as far as the cattle were concerned, had all the effect of amelody. "It's all wrong," he repeated. "There ain't no moon. 'Todance by th' light of th' stars,'" he corrected, and then: "Gentlemen, Irises to a question of order. I don't want to dance. I 'm too blastedsore to dance--I 'm too sore to be a-sittin' on this cross-eyed,rat-tailed, flea-bitten son-of-a-dog, too; an' if I ain't relievedpretty soon, Shanghai is a-goin' to hear--" his voice trailed away andthe words were no longer distinguishable.
Tex cautiously sat up. "That's Argue Bennett. And Shanghai is withthem. Why, d--n it! There must be a whole brood of Ike's chickensroosting around here. I 'm going to find them, even if I miss Hoppy indoing it."
He started to arise and back away before the first singer shouldapproach again, only to drop back into his former prone position at thesound of a third singer, coming from his right. Bennett and Spenceheard him too and were more than ready to resign the herd by the time heand his companion arrived. Bennett did not hesitate to announce hisbitter condemnation of the way things were being done.
"That you, Ship?" he called.
"That's me," came the answer.
"Shore it's you," agreed Bennett, in sarcastic acknowledgment. "I 'd a'bet every cow I own it's you. An' I goes on record as bettin' every cow_you_ own that Cracker is a-ridin' 'longside you. Do I win?"
"You win with yore own stock but I objects to you winnin' with mine. It_might_ a' been Shanghai."
"Yes, it _might_; but if it was I 'd a' dropped dead from surprise.What I want to know is: what call has Shanghai got to hold down all th'soft snaps? Is he any better'n we are? Echo answers no--Echo bein'Chatter Spence, who has n't got pride enough to disagree with a hen."
"Aw, what's eatin' you! This ain't no regular drive. An' did you everknow Shanghai to get left on a deal? How'd we ever got through th'Cyclone if it hadn't been for Shanghai? You make me tired. Did youever know a herd to get over th' ground so fast? Been you, we 'd besome're near Big Moose right now. You leave Shanghai alone an' we 'llhave th' herd in our pockets afore Peters knows they 're gone. Nicelittle bunch, too. Go an' get yore chuck an' you 'll feel better.'Jennie, my own true loved one, Wait till th' clouds roll by'"--he rodeon to circle the herd.
"Did you ever hear such a pill? He thinks nobody knows nothin' butShanghai. What do you say, Cracker?"
"Well, I kind o' sides with Ship. We ain't done as much as Shanghai, ifit comes to that, 'ceptin' night herd."
H--l! I 'm wastin' my breath talkin' to you. Come on, Chatter, we--why,th' greedy hog 's gone a'ready." Bennett made haste to get back tocamp. He knew the supplies to be none too plentiful. So did ChatterSpence.
Tex stole away as silently as he had come, leaving the cattle-thieveshappy in their ignorance of his discovery. He pushed himself hard onhis return, fearful of having overstayed the time. Hopalong was waitingfor him, however, and listened to his news with quiet interest.
"Buck's cows, Hoppy," was Tex's greeting, as he arrived on the run. "Wegot to get 'em but it's one sweet little job. Old Ship o' State is aholy terror in a row; Chatter Spence ain't bad, an' Argue Bennett an'Cracker impressed me as bein' good men to have around. But th' one wegot to watch out for is Shanghai. He never falls down an' it would n'tsurprise me none to know he was watchin' them four same as I was.There's two of 'em ridin' herd an' three in camp. How do we go at it?"
"Got to get th' two night-ridin'. Tie 'em up an' th' other three iseasy. Hol' on a minute till I get th' bank."
Ship o' State was beginning the twenty-seventh stanza in the melodioushistory of an incorrigible reprobate who deserved death in every one ofthem, when he was utterly confounded to hear a voice, almost at his ear,command him to "throw up his hands an' climb down of 'n that cayuse,_pronto_." Contrary to what all his friends would have expected him todo, he obeyed the command instantly and to the letter. He was relievedof his gun and was being very effectually secured when the strangelyquavering voice of Cracker was heard and came near. Ship eyed hiscaptor in wonder. If Cracker were to be captured in the same manner,then this was the coolest man in the country. Nearer and nearer came thevoice until Ship actually found himself worrying over the narrowness ofthe margin of safety. It was not until Cracker went by that heunderstood. The grotesque shape could only be accounted for in one way:Cracker's captor was straddling the same pony.
It was just when Ship had reached this conclusion that a very unpleasantbunch of rags was thrust into his mouth and he was lifted and thrownface down across the back of his horse. Hopalong got into the saddleand they rode away from the herd. They had not gone far before anotherhorseman joined them and Ship could hear the singing Cracker as hecircled the herd. "There's three of 'em anyway," was his thought,wherein he was wrong. Cracker, with his hands trussed high behind hisback and his feet hobbled, was stumbling slowly along with the threat inhis memory that if he stopped singing until he was told, his head stooda good chance of being separated from the rest of his carcass, when hewould never be able to sing again; and the further information that, ifthe herd should stampede, he was in a fair way to be crushed to a pulp.The latter he knew to be true and he was equally convinced that theother would be quite likely to take place.
Fifty yards from the herd, Ship was quietly dumped to the ground. Farenough away from him the horses were picketed and two forms creptcarefully upon the three men in camp.
Dark as it was, there was no difficulty in finding two of the three.Spence and Bennett, the latter agreeably surprised to find that Shanghaihad depleted the general treasury to the extent of one cow, had botheaten a large and satisfying meal; their hunger appeased, weariness hadasserted itself in double force and nothing less than a determined kickwould have awakened either of them. But Hopalong and Tex prowled aroundlooking for Shanghai without success.
Shanghai was living up to his reputation. Having made his plans andgiven orders to insure their carrying out, he then stayed around and sawit done. Argue Bennett might grumble to the others but he knew thefutility, as also the danger, of grumbling to Shanghai. When his twosubordinates had eaten their fill and gone to sleep, Shanghai still sathunched before the dying embers of the fire, smoking a meditative pipe.When the smoke ceased to float lazily from his nostrils he knocked thewarm ashes onto the palm of his hand, got to his feet and slippedquietly away from the camp.
Any one who knew Shanghai well would have reasoned that he was probablygoing to look over the herd because he started away in the oppositedirection. Going straight to his objective point was entirely tooelemental for Shanghai. He fetched a wide circle before drawing nearthe herd, his approach being unheralded and made with the suspiciouscaution which marked all his movements. He listened inattentively tothe husky voice of Cracker who was mourning the demise of somebody na
medBrown, and moved a little nearer. Presently he became vaguely uneasy atthe silence of old Ship-o'-State. It was not the lack of song on Ship'spart that troubled Shanghai--the cattle were resting easy enough--butwhere was he? When Cracker came around again Shanghai was near enoughto see him and he craned his neck in wonder at the sight: Cracker on histwo feet, staggering along like a man about three whiskeys fromoblivion, and Ship off post. Here was something very wrong and Shanghaicursed softly to think how far away his horse was. What in blazes madehim come afoot, anyway? He started back to camp to repair the oversightand to have Chatter and Argue behind him before making an investigationof Cracker's astonishing preference for night-herding on foot.
His descent upon the camp would have been creditable to an Apache.First making sure of his horse and leaving him in shape for instantdeparture, he circled the two sleeping forms, viewing them from allsides. There was something wrong. Shanghai did not know what it was butthe figures of his two companions seemed actually to exhale menace andthe longer he hesitated the stronger the feeling became. Shanghai stolequietly back to his horse, mounted and rode off with the settledconviction that sun-up was the proper time for investigating theseunusual circumstances and that the proper spot was several miles distantfrom below the sky-line of some convenient knoll.
At the unmistakable sound of retreating hoofbeats the figures in campcame to life. They sat up and listened and then Tex looked at Hoppywith frank disapprobation. "Hoppy, my way was best," he declared.Hopalong nodded, in silent agreement, and Tex continued: "I beena-hearin' considerable talk about this here Shanghai an' I 'm bound tosay I believe all I hears. D--n if he ain't got second sight."
Hopalong nodded again. "Let's round up th' rest of th' roosters,anyhow. We got four, an' four's a plenty to take care of."
"Shore is," admitted Tex. "Let's bring 'em in an' hog-tie 'em. Themcows would n't move for anythin' 'less 'n a Norther after th' way they've come across country."
A half hour later Ike's four pets were lying side by side in camp,trussed to the point of immovability and all apparently, in spite oftheir discomfort, taking advantage of the opportunity to secure thesleep they so much needed after their unsuccessful exertions.
"Hoppy," said Tex, "I think that with that Shanghai party still runnin'at large, it 'd be some wise to split up that wealth. Better take achance of losin' half of it than all of it. What you think?"
"Same here," agreed Hopalong. He opened the sack and dumped out thepackages, dividing them roughly into two parts with a sweep of his hand,and proceeded to rip up the sack, preparatory to making two parcels ofthe money.
"'With milk an' honey blest,'" faltered a voice and they turned to findArgue Bennett's eyes almost starting from his head at the sight hebeheld.
"Playin' 'possum, eh? It'd do you no harm to stretch hemp right now,"and Tex's meditative air was fringed with ferocity.
"No offence, Comin', no offence. You woke me movin'. Is that what Davegot away with?"
"Yes--an' there won't no more Daves get away with it, you can bet allth' cows you own on that."
"An' me a-riskin' my neck rustlin' that bunch when all that beautifulwealth was a-leavin' th' country easy an' graceful an' just a-shoutin'to be brought back. Excuse me, Comin'. I ain't got no call to talk. Ireckon I never did talk. Th' best I ever done since I was born isbray."
Thus it came about that Shanghai suffered the acute misery of seeing hisfour-footed fortune headed back the way it had come. Not that he lostheart all at once. After some hours of following he had decided that abold stroke might put him again in possession and was perfecting thedetails of the stratagem his ready mind conceived, when a sudden checkwas given by a rapidly approaching cloud of dust from the northwest.The check became check-mate when the useful field-glasses disclosed tohis pained vision the hilarious meeting that took place. A certainjaunty carriage, a characteristic swagger that did not forsake him evenin the saddle, made Shanghai look hard at the leader of the new-comersand suspect Cock Murray. And his suspicion was well founded. CockMurray had already redeemed his promise to Buck and it may be pardonedhim if in the joy of his heart, his swagger became so pronounced as todisclose his personality across some miles of country.
Shanghai closed his glasses and moved slowly to his horse. "Well, ithad to be," he conceded, philosophically. "An' I reckon it's about timeI pulled my freight."
CHAPTER XXVIII
THE HEART OF A ROSE
And the evening and the morning were the second day. At a time when,through the diffused and fading light of the sun-vacant sky, thesilver-pale stars blinked one by one in their awakening; when theprotesting twitter of disturbed birds seeking their rest sounded sweetlyclear above the steady rumble of the marshland frogs; when thevelvet-footed killers stretched and yawned and gazed with dilated pupilsat the near approach of night; when the men who persuaded luck to theiradvantage, in various ways, began to gather about the tables in cow-townand mining-camp, and there was a lighting of lamps by the foresightedand a trimming of wicks by the procrastinators--the French Rose facedher father, Jean, and did battle for love and happiness, though she knewit not.
The easy-going Jean had known nothing of the manner in which their guestwas wounded, nor by whom; and Rose had not thought it wise to tell him,even if it occurred to her in the stress of that first day. But Jeanhad heard many rumors in Twin River, many disquieting facts and equallydisturbing inferences. He had hurried home beset with fears for theoutcome, alarmed at the reckless step Rose had taken and vainly askinghimself why. Immediately upon his entry he had set Pickles at a taskwhich would occupy him away from the cabin. Standing moodily at thewindow he watched him go. Then he turned to his daughter for anexplanation.
"Is Dave here yesterday?" he asked.
"Yes," replied Rose, non-committally.
Jean turned over in his mind this new fact and fitted it into thepattern. "For why you go so fast to Twin?" he questioned.
"No one is here but me. Fritz, he go to the Two Y's ranch."
"You tell him?"
"No. He hear Dave talk an' go to tell M'sieu Peters Dave have stole allhis money."
"_Diable_! Steal?"
"Yes."
Jean knitted his brows in the effort to understand the reason for this;quite naturally he came back in a circle to his first inquiry andrepeated it: "For why you go to Twin?"
"I go for men to catch Dave when he steal the money." This, while notstrictly true, was the nearest to truth that Jean could understand.
The trend of his thoughts was shown by his next question. "Dave--heknow?" he asked, and his anxiety was apparent.
"Yes," was the brief answer.
"_Mon Dieu!_" exclaimed Jean. He turned from her and stared withunseeing eyes over the land he had struggled hard to make his own. Andnow he must lose it. Rapidly calculating how long his slender resourceswould support him until Rose could dispose of his stock and follow,despair came upon him as he realized that the vengeance of Dave was notto be escaped. "For why," he asked, hoarsely, "for why you do this?"
"For why?" repeated Rose and the thrill in her voice caused him to turnand look at her in surprise. "Figure to yourself, then: That devil hecome here and he sneer at you, and he insult me--yes. Many times heinsult me that I have to hold myself, so! that I do not kill him. Iendure. He send me---_Dieu!_ that I should say it--he make dirt of meto walk on, to arrive at a man who is high, good, ah, a man! _mon pere_,a man like you, one time when you have no fear. He send me. I saynothing. Many times he try, like a dog, to spring at his throat, butalways, it is nothing but snap at his heels. Like a dog which he is.Then he come to me and say he is triumph. He get much money. And hetell me go with him. Me! me! he command like he is master and me slave.He steal money from M'sieu Peters and him and me, we go away together,like that, like man and his squaw. And I say nothing. Ah, _mon pere_!it is too much--too much. If it be some other man--not M'sieuPeters--then
I go. I save you, _mon pere_, though it kill me. But--itis too much."
She bowed her head, filled with self-reproach, with a knowledge that herfather could never see this thing as she did. Jean stared at her,motionless; but his dumb amaze slowly lifted. He came to her and restedhis hand lightly on her bowed head. "_Ma Rose--ma belle Rose_--when youhave for a good man so big love as that, I would die, with gladness, toknow so big happiness is come to you." And he went swiftly from thecabin.
At the closing of the door she sprang to it and threw it wide again."You will not go--now--to-night?" she called.
The answer, low, determined, in the tones of the father of that othertime, reassured her: "No. We stay. Maybe--who knows?--God is good."
She went back and with steady hand lit the lamp and placed it on thetable. The noble face was aglow with hopeful pride: he would face it atlast, this thing that had embittered both their lives.
"Rose!"
She started and turned in dismay toward the inner room. He wasawake--how long?--and calling her.
"Rose!" the call came again, gentle but insistent. "Rose, I--I wantyou."
She stood a moment longer, both hands pressed against her heart, herbreath coming in great gasps and in her eyes the frightened look of achild. Then she caught up the lamp and with swift step went in andstood beside the bunk. "Is it then you rest ill, my friend?" she askedsoftly, and then bent to re-arrange the pillow. Buck's hand closed overhers.
"Rose," he whispered, "Rose--I heard."
She slipped to her knees, hiding her face in the pillow, her figureshaking with great tremors and sobs breaking from her so that she couldscarcely speak. "Oh, I am ashamed," she said brokenly, "I am ashamed."
"Ashamed! And I----" he stopped, drawing in a deep breath at the wonderof it; then raising himself to rest on bent arm, he laid his cheekagainst her hair. "I 'm th' one as ought to be ashamed, Rose: a man o'my age, an' feelin' th' way I do--an' you a girl. But I 've got to haveyou, Rose. I just got to have you. An' if you don't say 'yes' I swearto God I 'll give up an' pull out o' this country. I don't want to stopanother day if you say 'no.'"
She drew away from him and raised her head to look at him doubtfully,appealingly, believingly. A wonderful smile broke through her tears andstilled the trembling of her lips. "You mean it, Buck. Oh! You do!You do!" Her arms were about him and she lowered him gently back again."Rest you, and get well quickly, wounded man," she murmured. "Myman--my man until I die--and after."
FINIS
Buck Peters, Ranchman Page 27