West of the Pecos

by Zane Grey

  “Tie this feller hands an’ feet.”

  “See here, Sawtell, that’s goin’ too far. I’m a crippled man. Besides, I’m absolutely neutral in this fight.”

  “Neutral be damned! … Tie him up!”

  His further protestations were of no avail. The three cowhands roped him fast to the bed he sat upon.

  “Now then,” went on the leader. “Sam, you an’ Jack go down by the river. There’s a trail under thet far wall. Hide in the brush an’ hold up any man who might ride alone. … You, Acker, hop your hoss an’ ride up the canyon to thet thicket below where the trail comes out of the gorge. Hide your hoss an’ yourself, an’ you be damn shore to stop any rider comin’ down. You all savvy?”

  “Ahuh. But I reckon we all better have our hosses,” replied Sam.

  “Wal, yes, if it suits you. Now rustle,” finished Sawtell, and sheathed his gun. “An’ now, Bill, it’s for you an’ me to go through this cabin with a currycomb.”

  Chapter XIII

  TERRILL heard this byplay between the two men and watched them with clouded eyes, while almost sinking in the throes of stupefying misery at the renewed doubt of Pecos. But when Sawtell announced his intention of ransacking the cabin she conquered the blinding weakness. Whatever Pecos had been in the past, he was honest and fine now; he had saved her and he was her partner; but even if some of these things were true, she loved him so wonderfully that she would fight for him and share his fortune.

  “Come on, Bill,” sang out Sawtell, his heavy boots creaking the porch boards.

  “Not me. Search the shack yourself,” replied Haines, ill-temperedly. He did not like the situation. Terrill’s hopes leaped at the chance of dissension between them.

  “Wal, by thunder! if you ain’t cross-grained all of a sudden,” snorted Sawtell, in disgust.

  “I hired out to arrest a criminal, an’ not to risk pokin’ around in his shack. Like as not, if there wasn’t anybody here with sense enough to keep a lookout, you’d turn around presently to have a gun poked in y our belly.”

  “But, you thick-headed ——! The boys are guardin’ the only two trails into this canyon. We cain’t be surprised.”

  “That’s what you say. My idee of your judgment has changed.”

  “Ha! It’s your nerve thet’s changed. A few words from this peak-faced cowman an’ you show your white liver.”

  “Sawtell, your remarks ain’t calculated to help this deal,” rejoined Haines.

  “I shore see thet. Wal, in a pinch I can do the job myself.”

  “Haw! Haw!”

  That sardonic ridicule widened the breach. Terrill made sure now that these two men would clash.

  “Haines, this man has fooled you all the way and means to double-cross you in the end,” interposed Terrill.

  The sheriff’s frame vibrated as if it had been surcharged with a powerful current.

  “Kid, you don’t say much, but when you chirp it’s somethin’ worth thinkin’ about,” returned Haines, with a harsh laugh.

  “That’ll do from you, Lambeth, or I’ll slap the tar out of you,” growled Sawtell. “Haines, I’ll give you one more chance. Are you goin’ help hunt for thet money?”

  “Bah! You’re loco, Sawtell. If this Hod Smith ever had any money it’s gone by now. Why, it’s ’most six months since that last cattle drive was made.”

  “Wal, it’s a forlorn hope, I’ll admit, but if I do find thet money you shore won’t get a dollar of it.”

  “The hell I won’t. Find it an’ I’ll show you.”

  Sawtell gave him a long gaze. “You may be surprised pronto,” he said, in another tone. Then he wheeled to stamp toward the door.

  “Get out of my way, Lambeth,” he ordered.

  For reply Terrill extended the gun, which she had drawn and cocked. Sawtell recoiled away from it.

  “By Gawd! … Look here, Bill. … This kid has throwed a gun on me.”

  The sheriff showed a disposition to get out from behind Sawtell.

  “You can’t come in heah,” rang out Terrill. The man’s close, raw presence, his blood-red eyes, the hard amaze he showed, added a last force to her will. She meant to kill him if he tried to enter. And on the instant Terrill was thinking that the hammer of her gun would fall on an empty chamber.

  “Ahuh. So, Lambeth, you’re givin’ yourself away. Cub partner of a rustler an’ murderer, huh?”

  “Breen Sawtell, you bet I’m Pecos’ partner,” flashed Terrill, and pulled the trigger. The hammer fell with a sharp metallic click. Sawtell flinched. Terrill cocked the gun again. “Look out for the next one. I’ll kill you. … You can’t——”

  Sawtell’s hand flashed out to throw up the gun. Terrill screamed and pulled the trigger. The gun went off in the air, but it was a narrow escape for him. Holding her arm up, he wrenched the gun loose, and tossing it back he knocked Terrill into the cabin. As she went down her head struck hard.

  When Terrill came to she found that she had been bound to a chair. Sawtell had taken down a jug of liquor that had stood on the shelf for years, and after smelling it he took a long gulp.

  “Aggh! … Bill Haines don’t know what he’s missin’.”

  Whereupon Sawtell began a search of the room. This did not take many moments, for there were such few places to hide anything. Meanwhile Terrill had fully recovered her wits. She had been hastily tied with some soft rope hobbles that had hung just inside the door. She could twist one small and capable hand so as to reach the knot, which she believed she could loosen. There were two rifles in the living-room, of which hers was loaded. If she could get hold of that! Then she grasped the fact that her feet were bound to the legs of the chair. Even if she did free her hands she could not get up. Then she espied Sambo’s hunting-knife on the table, within reach. After that she watched the ransacking ruffian while she redoubled her efforts to free her hands. She wondered what had become of Mauree. Probably the negress had run off in fright to her cabin and baby.

  Sawtell got through searching the living-room. Then he gave the pole partition a vigorous shake. Terrill’s door flew open and Sawtell entered her little room. No one was ever permitted to go in there. Any thorough search must discover that there was something strange about Terrill Lambeth. But on the moment Terrill had no qualms about this. It was the money Pecos had intrusted to her. Why had she not hid the belt in the barn or a crevice in the cliff. For Sawtell would most surely find it.

  “Haw! Haw! Haw!” roared in husky accents from Terrill’s room. Then Sawtell appeared with the money belt clutched in his hands. There was a radiance about him, but it appeared far from beautiful. His eyes emitted a wolfish hunger. “By Gawd! … I’ve got it,” he crowed as he laid the belt on the table. His big shaking hand, with its tobacco-stained fingers, tore out sheafs of greenbacks that had been neatly and compactly folded. “Oho! I guess I didn’t have a hunch. … All the big bills-—fifties—hundreds! … Mister Hod Smith, you shore are a savin’ hombre.”

  The doorway darkened to the wide frame of Haines, who suddenly halted, pop-eyed, at sight of Sawtell and what he was doing. As if by magic, then, astonishment appeared swept away.

  “Breen, so help me Gawd, you found it!” he exclaimed.

  “I shore did,” replied the other, in grim exultance.

  “There’s twenty thousand, anyway. An’ that was worth comin’ for.” Whereupon he moved the belt and piles of bills back to his left on the table, interposing his body between it and Haines. Then he poured out a cupful of red liquor from the jug. “Here’s to your bad luck, Haines, an’ poor judgment!”

  He tossed off the drink with a flourish. “Aggh!—That’s stuff for you. Have a drink, Bill. It’s as old as the hills.”

  Neither of the men seemed aware of Terrill. Haines took a stiff drink, though his gray eyes, now with a blaze in them, never left the belt and money for an instant.

  “Good likker, all right,” he coughed, and edged along the table. “Breen, I was wrong. You shore had a hunch. But I was only
sore, an’ worried aboot this Hod Smith mebbe bein’ Pecos Smith. … Do you recognize the money?”

  “Yes, if it’s anythin’ to you,” responded Sawtell, dryly, and he began stowing the flat packets of bills back into the belt.

  “Shore it’s a lot to me. I’m as tickled as can be. If you know your own money we’re justified in takin’ it. An’ I say let’s let well enough alone an’ rustle out of here before this Smith person gets back.”

  “An’ why for, Bill?”

  “He might be Pecos Smith?”

  “Hell! S’pose he is? What do we care? Wouldn’t he look as fine danglin’ from a rope as anyone else?”

  “You don’t seem to savvy somethin’,” retorted Haines. “If he is Pecos Smith he won’t be easy to string up.”

  “Haw! Haw!”

  “Man, you’ve lost your head completely.”

  “Nope. Thet applies to you, Bill. I’m figgerin’ shore close. There’s only two trails into this canyon, an’ I’ve got two men hid on the river trail an’ one man hid on the gulch trail. Smith will be held up either way.”

  “Then we ought to help guard. There’s many a slip, you know. … Give up your crazy notion to hang Smith an’ let’s go.”

  “He shot my brother.”

  “What’n’hell if he did?” shouted Haines, stridently. “There’s some who say that wasn’t such a loss. You make me sick with your braggin’ loyalty, when all the time you was double-crossin’ him yourself.”

  “You’re a——liar!” returned Sawtell, ominously.

  “Now, Breen, don’t bluster that way an’ go back on what you know.”

  “What I know is my business,” returned Sawtell, doggedly. “What you think you know concerns me when you get to gabbin’ in front of strangers. You forget that nigger tied up out there. An’ this cattleman who calls himself Watson. You talk too much. You haven’t one damned proof that I double-crossed my brother.”

  “No. It’s just my hunch. But you can bet your pile this Smith vaquero knows. An’ that’s why you’re so keen to hang him.”

  “Air you goin’ to shet up?” demanded Sawtell, threateningly.

  “Wal, there’s no use in arguin’ any more since we’ve got the money.”

  “We?” shouted Sawtell, derisively.

  “You heard me correct, Breen. I consented to take up my old Kansas job as sheriff to serve your ends. I rode down in this Gawd-forsaken Pecos country with you. I’m riskin’ my skin right this minute, an’ you bet I’m in on everythin’.”

  “Haines, you’re in on nothin’. I told you thet a while back. You shot your chin off once too often.”

  “You mean you’re not goin’ to divide that money?” yelled Haines, hoarsely, his ruddy face changing color.

  “Get out! Your fat greedy face hurts my sensitive feelin’s,” retorted Sawtell, and he shoved Haines out of the cabin. For a moment his tall form obstructed the light. Terrill espied Sawtell’s hand creeping down toward his gun. Her heart nearly burst. The fight was coming. These ghouls would destroy one another. Terrill’s right hand came free. If she could only get up! She tore at the knots. The men had forgotten her. Her rifle leaned against the wall. Sawtell had left the money belt on the table.

  “Breen Sawtell, you’re as crooked as a rail fence,” replied Haines. “But crooked or not, I want my share of that cattle money. You agreed to divide it.”

  Sawtell stepped out on the porch, so that all Terrill could see was his left side. His left hand was stiff, with the long fingers quivering.

  “Shore. But you lost your nerve an’ you wouldn’t help me. So I’m justified in not makin’ a divide.”

  “——! I’ll show you up all over New Mexico,” hissed Haines.

  “No you won’t, Bill.”

  “Of all the thick-skulled men I ever seen! Do you think you can soft-soap me out of this deal?”

  “All I’m thinkin’ now, Bill, is that you won’t be goin’ back.”

  “He-l—!” A shot cut short Haines’ yelp of fury. The thundering report appeared to clamp Terrill’s eyes tight shut. Then her ears vibrated to the crash—crash—crash of guns. Both men must have emptied their weapons. As Terrill opened her eyes she heard a groan that appeared to come from the left side of the door. Sambo or Watson had been hit. Then a boot grated, the porch boards creaked—and there followed another bursting report.

  Terrill’s strung faculties broke to sight of Sawtell stepping before the door. He was sheathing a smoking gun. Terrill had wit enough to grasp that Sawtell had not had time to reload the gun. His face was black and terrible. He felt of his left arm where blood showed near the shoulder.

  “Barked me, huh,” he soliloquized, and pulled a bandana from his pocket. Then as he stepped to the threshold he espied Terrill. “Ha! ’most forgot you, Lambeth.”

  “Is—he—dead?” gasped Terrill.

  “Who? Bill? … I reckon so, for all intents an’ purposes. … Tie this arm up for me.” And taking the hunting-knife off the table, he cut the hobble that bound Terrill’s hands, not noticing that one of them was already free. “What you shakin’ aboot, youngster? A little while ago you was steady enough. I thought my day had come.”

  Terrill at last succeeded in knotting the bandana securely. Sawtell stuck the knife upright in the table and made no move to retie Terrill’s hands. “Now what?—Aha! Another little drink for my nerves.”

  When he threw back his head and tipped the jug to his lips, Terrill snatched the knife, and quick as a flash freed her feet. He saw her out of the corner of his eyes. Down the jug thumped. Terrill flashed her hand for the money belt, and securing it she whirled to flee.

  But as she leaped through the door Sawtell’s hand fastened on the back of her coat. He gave such a tremendous jerk that not only did he drag Terrill back across the threshold, but he ripped both coat and shirt almost off her body.

  “You —— little devil! Must I kill you, too?” And with his free hand he twisted the belt out of her now nerveless hands and tossed it back on the table.

  Terrill sank to her knees, almost fainting. To be suddenly snatched almost nude paralyzed her. Sawtell pulled at the split garments, which divided and slipped off Terrill’s white shoulders.

  “Fer Gawd’s sake!” he rolled out, in breathless amaze, his bold eyes feasting on the curved white breast Terrill could not hide. “A girl!”

  He let go the half of Terrill’s garments, and dropping heavily into the chair he placed a hand on each of her shoulders. He shook her. Terrill’s head wabbled back and forth. She was almost swooning.

  “Come out of it!—You ain’t hurt. … Let me look at you. … Terrill Lambeth, heh? … Wal, I’ll be … ! I reckoned you was damned pretty for a boy.”

  “Let me—go!” wailed Terrill. The end had come. She would rather have died. This man’s horny hands! His hot eyes! Her faintness left her. There was more horror than shame. She tried to get up. He held her down with hands like lead.

  “All the time you’ve been a girl?” he ejaculated. “When I was here—twice before—you was a girl?”

  “Yes—yes. I’ve always been. … It was Dad’s fault. He—he hated girls. He would dress me as a boy—when I was little. … And so—out heah—I kept to boy’s clothes. … For pity’s sake—let me—cover myself!”

  “That —— half-breed Felipe—he knows you’re a girl,” declared Sawtell. “I savvy now. That’s why he wanted me to stay away from here. … Wal, if this ain’t my lucky day!”

  Terrill, with returning strength, plucked at her rent garments, so obviously agonized by her nudity that Sawtell let go and flung some of them in her face.

  “Why, you damned little hussy!” he rasped in sudden passion. “Awful ashamed, ain’t you, half undressed before a strange man? Puttin’ it on thick, huh? … You damned lyin’ cat. Livin’ here with this rustler, Smith. Pretendin’ to be a boy!—Why I ought to strip you an’ drive you up an’ down this canyon.”

  Something about this remarkable revelation, no doubt
the sight of the girl, had inflamed Sawtell into a frenzy. He jerked the torn coat out of her hands and flung it aside. He pulled at the shirt, but she clung desperately to this.

  “Kill me—and be—done!” she whispered.

  “Kill nothin’. You’re too pretty to kill. But I’ll beat hell out of you if you try any more tricks with me.”

  Terrill would have sagged to the floor but for his pressing knees.

  “You’ve been livin’ here with this man Smith?”

  She thought she understood him.

  “Answer me,” he went on, and cuffed her sharply over the head. “You’re livin’ with this man Smith?”

  “Yes—I—I’m living—heah.”

  “You’re not married to him? … An’ you’re in love with him? … Haw! Haw!—You bet you air. … An’ you know he’s a rustler—a cattle thief? He told you where all this money come from?”

  “Yes. But he wasn’t brand-burning. … He was only—branding mavericks.”

  “Aw, hell! You’re not an idiot. You didn’t swaller that old guff?”

  “I did—I did. I believed him.”

  “Wal, I furnished thet money to him an’ his pards. I paid it into his hands.”

  “But you—you said Pecos wasn’t—with those men?”

  “I lied to fool Haines. It served my turn. … Yes, you been livin’ with a low-down rustler. Shore you’re no lady to be proud. Sooner or later you’d seen him hanged. An’ it’s just as well that I come along when I did. You’re young yet. You’ll get over it. … Now when this Smith feller comes back we’ll swing him up. An’ I’m goin’ to stay here all night—with you. An’ tomorrow I’ll be takin’ you away with me.”

  Terrill was past speech and almost power of vision.

  “Wal, if you ain’t pretty ——”

  He broke off suddenly. He seemed to listen, and his fondling hands dropped from her person.

  “What the hell?” he muttered.

  Terrill’s ears—that had been strained to breaking all these interminable hours—caught a low swift rhythmic patter of hoofs.

  “A hoss comin’. … Must be Sam.”

  When he got up Terrill slid forward, her head toward the door. Sawtell strode over her.