"We're all willin' to do that, Sam, but there ain't too many of us to handle the herd as it is. What yu think, Jim?"
"Well, these hold-up gents will be watchin' the used trail," the cowboy pointed out. "S'pose we was to bear away to the west for a spell an' then strike north again, nosin' out a road for ourselves ; wouldn't that razzle-dazzle 'em?"
"By the Devil's teeth, he's hit it, Jeff," the cattleman swore. "It'll mean a longer an' harder drive, but that'll be better than losin' men scrappin', an' it's possible Chisholm didn't pick the best path after all. Now, go an' get them steers started. Jim, I'm obliged to yu."
Notwithstanding his employer's approval, Sudden did not feel too comfortable. The step he had suggested was dangerous and might well plunge the expedition into all kinds of difficulty. On the other hand, there was the chance that it would dislocate Rogue's designs on the drive, and this had been his main reason. That Dale was one of the outlaw's men he felt sure, and he was relieved by the thought that he had now declared himself.
Chapter X
THE new plan was not to be put into operation immediately, and dusk found them camped again on the trail they had been following. Straight across the dreary, brown expanse it ran. a road some hundreds of yards in width, carved out of the plain by the sharp hooves of hordes of cattle. Throughout the day no tree broke the monotony of the sky-line.
They had another visitor that evening. The herd had been bedded down, four men left in charge, and the others were grouped around the fire awaiting Peg-leg's intimation that supper was ready, when a figure materialized out of the gloom and came towards them, right hand raised, palm foremost.
"Evenin', folks," greeted a high, reedy voice. "Saw yer fire an' it made me feel kind o' lonesome."
"Step right up, friend," the foreman called out.
The man came on, moving with the easy, tireless stride of a redskin. The firelight showed him to be an oldish fellow, thin but wiry, with long grey hair and beard and bright eyes which seemed never to be still. His tattered doeskin garments, raccoon-skin cap, and moccasins proclaimed that he was a trapper.
"Sit an' eat," the foreman invited.
"Thankee," the stranger replied. "But I pay my footin'."
He lifted the long gun from his shoulder and proffered the carcass of a small deer slung upon it. Jeff protested, but the visitor would not listen.
"Sho, I'm tired o' totin' it," he said. "Mebbe a change for yu fellas, but a hunk o' good beef to me is wuth all the game that ever ran or flew."
"I'm obliged," the cowman said. "We've got a invalid who won't subscribe to them sentiments."
"Sick folk is finicky," the other agreed.
He dumped his pack--the crackling of which suggested dried skins--on the ground, placed his gun upon it, and sat down. When the food arrived, he ate so wolfishly that even in a land of large appetites he knew it must be remarked.
"yu gotta excuse me, friends," he said, "but yu have one damn fine cook, an' I've bin livin' on straight meat an' water for most a week ; run right outa meal, salt, an' coffee."
"I guess we can fix yu up," the foreman said. "Goin' fur?"
"Makin' for the nearest settlement to trade my pelts for supplies," the stranger explained. He sighed contentedly as he finished his fifth mug of coffee. "That's the best feed I've put under my belt for many a day." He produced a battered pipe and regarded it ruefully. "I went shy o' smokin' too."
Several hands shot out, and when he had filled, lighted, and taken a long draw, he smiled whimsically at the company. "I figure yu boys'll be wondering' over me."
They were, but not one of them would have admitted it. He nodded understandingly and went on--as he put it--to explain himself. His name, it appeared, was Tyson, and his story a common one enough in those days. Just a tale of a ravaged cabin, a murdered wife and children, and another blood-debt to the shrieking painted devils who had wrecked his llfe. He told it quite simply in his high-pitched voice, without passion, but in his eyes smouldered a hatred which only death would quench.
"Since then I've bin a sort o' missionary," he concluded grimly. "yes, sirs, me an' `Betsy' "--he patted the stock of the rifle at his back--"has converted quite a few war-whoops."
The cowboys smiled at this. They too held the cynical view that the only "good" Indian was a dead one. Therefore the knowledge that their guest was a "still-hunter"--one who tracked down and slew the redskin on foot--aroused no feeling of repulsion. The foreman questioned him regarding the country for which they were heading, and the chances of getting the herd through.
"Middlin' slim," he said bluntly. "yu'll have a man-size job to make it. Steers is bringin' real money at the rail-head, an' it's knowed that herds is comin' up from Texas. The Nations is lousy with bad men, hide-hunters, rustlers, outlaws of every sort, an' they ain't likely to overlook a bet o' that kind. Then there's the Kiowas an' Commanches from the headwaters o' the Red River ; they're watchin' the trail mighty close."
"S'pose we turned west for a piece an' then cut our own road north?" Sudden queried.
Tyson grinned. "She ain't a bad idea--might diddle 'em," he admitted. "But yu gotta mind yu don't hit the Staked Plain --no water an' as hot as Hell's gridiron--an' if yore cows git tangled up with a herd o' buff'ler yu can wish 'em good-bye. Allasame, I'd say it's yore best bet."
Soon after midnight, Sudden, having done his turn of night-herding, returned to camp and sought his blankets. He had not fallen asleep when he heard the low, musical but melancholy hoot of a dwarf-owl. Since there were no trees or bushes in the vicinity, the presence of the bird was sufficiently remarkable to call for investigation. Slipping from beneath his covering he crawled cautiously in the direction from which the sound had seemed to come. At the side of a small hummock he stood up, drew his gun, coughed slightly, and instantly moved.
"That yu, Sandy?"
"No, it's Green."
A shadow detached itself from the side of the hummock.
" 'Lo, Jim, I was wantin' a word with one o' yu," Rogue said, and then, abruptly, "Why for did yu* shoot up my man, . Dale?"
"How in hell was Ito know yu owned the Double O brand?" Sudden retorted.
"I don't," the outlaw chuckled, "but yu mighta guessed how it was. Bad luck he had to bump into yu."
"I'd say he was plumb fortunate," Sudden retorted. "Next time he starts to pull a gun on me he won't get off with just a busted arm."
"It looks like yu mean to double-cross me, Jim," Rogue said harshly.
"Double-cross nothin'," was the reply. "I never joined yu, an' I don't owe yu anythin' but a bad name an' a prospect o' swingin' for a crime yu committed."
The savage intensity of his tone seemed to impress the other and when he spoke again the rasp had gone from his voice:
"That's so. I got yu in bad, but short o' givin' myself up, I did what I could to get yu clear. I liked yu, Jim, an' when yu consented to join the S E I reckoned it meant ..."
"That I was ready to be what yu had made me--an outlaw," Sudden finished bitterly. "Well, it mighta been--I was undecided--but when it came to shootin' old men from cover ..."
"I had nothin' to do with that, Jim."
"yu were around when it happened."
"I'd gone. I knew afterwards, but it was no part of my plan."
"Then who did it?"
"I don't know who fired the shot, but Navajo fixed it. I had trouble with him over that--an' other things. He's gettin' uppity."
The cowboy was silent, considering. Somehow he believed Rogue was telling him the truth. Ruthless ruffian he undoubtedly was, yet he possessed a streak of something--bravado, it might be--which made him scorn a lie as the resort of a coward. He had been frank over the killing of Judson, when he need not have been. The husky voice broke in on his thoughts:
"Must be gettin' tired holdin' that gun, Jim ; there ain't no manner o' need."
Shame swept over Sudden as he slipped the revolver back into its holster. "Sorry, Rogue," he said. "I warn't noticin'."
; "Shucks," the outlaw said, and there was a weariness in his tone. "I don't blame yu for playin' safe, boy. I'm takin' it I can't count on yu an' Sandy?"
"That's correct," Sudden told him. "We ain't neither of us bitin' the hand that feeds us." An impulse stirred him. "Why don't yu cut away from that gang, Rogue? yo're too good a man..."
The outlaw laughed. "Sorry for me, Jim?" he gibed. "Well, yu needn't to be. I went wrong with my eyes open because the world treated me mean an'"
"It's done that to me, but I'm goin' to forget it," Sudden cut in.
He could not see the pitying smile on the older man's face. "yu never will, boy ; the faculty o' forgettin' what yu don't want to remember is one o' God's greatest gifts an' few has it," Rogue said bitterly, and then his voice grew harsh again. "I'm gettin' mushy. Bite on this, boy: I've passed my word to bust Eden's drive an' I'm goin' to do it."
"An' I'll fight yu till hell freezes," Sudden smiled, and shoved out a fist. "No hard feelin's, Rogue, but that don't go for yore followin'. Sabe?"
The bandit gripped the hand heartily. So this strange compact between men who were to war, one against the other, was sealed. The intruder melted into the shadowed plain and Sudden crept back to the camp, his mind full of the man he had just left. For the interview had surprised him. He had gone to it expecting reproaches, threats, even attempted violence, and found none of them. He had given his promise to his employer and would do his best to fulfil it. As to whom this might be, Sudden could make no guess Sam Eden's bluff, outspoken nature and quick temper would earn him enemies enough.
His thoughts veered to the dark, sinister face of Navajo, the man who--according to Rogue--had "fixed" the attempted murder of the cattleman. Was it a misguided effort to help his leader, or was the fellow playing a hand for him self? The stars, paling in the sky, warned him that the night was passing, and he turned over to snatch an hour's sleep before sunrise.
In the morning, the guest, after packing his spare frame with bacon, beans, and coffee, went on his way, rejoicing that --thanks to the generosity of his hosts--he would again be able to "feed like a Christian."
"I figure yu'll be all right till yo're over the Red River," he added. "Then make yore pass west. Adios."
Gun on shoulder and pack on back, he swung off southwards along the trail, moving swiftly but unhurriedly. Several of the men stood watching the gradually diminishing form.
"A queer little cuss," Jeff commented. "One time them devils will catch him an' then--he'll want death a hell of a while before it comes."
"Well, he's sent some to wait for him," Jed remarked. "Did yu notice the nicks on the stock o' that gun? I didn't count 'em, but I'll bet there was mighty near two score."
During the morning, Sudden made an opportunity to tell Sandy of his meeting with Rogue.
"I'm relieved he took it that way," the boy said. "An odd mixture, Rogue. At times, a fiend from the Pit itself, an' yet, he can be real folks. Navajo now, he's bad all through, an' he hates Rogue. I'm glad to be clear o' that crowd, Jim."
Sudden regarded him sardonically. "yo're tellin' me news."
"yu know what I mean," Sandy replied.
Sudden did. He had already noted that his companion's gaze was never long away from a certain graceful figure riding ahead. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he said gravely:
"Shore I do, but what's worryin' me is"--he paused, and Sandy looked up expectantly--"does she like red hair?" He was yards away before the boy realized the significance of the question and then it was too late to do anything but swear softly.
"yu damned pirut," he smiled. "But Gosh! I'm mighty pleased I met up with yu."
Chapter XI
THE days oozed by, days of long, lazy hours in the saddle under a scorching sun, for the fine weather held. Jeff was too good a cowman to hurry the herd but he took care that the animals were healthily tired and ready for sleep when they reached a good average.
They had crossed the Brazos River without much difficulty, being fortunate in finding it low, and, as Tyson had predicted, no "trouble" had materialized. Moreover, the wounded man was progressing favourably, so that the outfit generally was in high good humour. Only the foreman refused to join in any jubilation.
"Everythin' is goin' too slick--it ain't natural," he grumbled, pacing behind the wagon as it bumped its way over the cracked and rutted surface of the plain. "Just when yo're feelin' careless an' contented is the time Lady Luck chooses to give yu a kick in the pants."
The cattleman pulled a wry face. "If yu was lyin' here yu wouldn't think it was all so hunky, yu of death's-head," he replied. "How're the new men pannin' out?"
"Green an' Sands is awright but I don't like Lasker," Jeff said bluntly. "Does his work but ..." He did not finish. "Wish I knowed who put that pill in yu, Sam."
"yu ain't thinkin' it was one o' the outfit, are yu?"
"I'm in the dark," the foreman admitted. "Sands or Lasker could 'a' done it--they weren't in camp or with the cows."
"Forget it," Eden said irritably. "I'm here, ain't I? Why should any o' the boys want to crab the drive? I figure it was a war-whoop, the one that got away from Green, likely ; Injuns never let up when it's a case of evenin' a score."
"Dessay yo're right, but I'm wonderin'," Jeff insisted. "Then stop it, yu fool," his employer told him. "All yu gotta worry about is the cows ; they're goin' through if we have to carry 'em one at a time. yu sabe?"
In his excitement he raised both his voice and his body, only to sink back with an oath. Instantly the hard-faced woman on the driver's seat thrust her head through the canvas flaps. "yu, Jeff, pull yore freight, pronto," she ordered. "Ain't there critters enough out there to pester but yu gotta come here an' git my patient all het up? If yu didn't wear a hat yu'd have no use for yore head."
The foreman made no reply ; he knew better than to engage in verbal warfare with the lady. Sam Eden, however, promptly protested:
"Jeff's doin' his duty, reportin' to me, Judy," he said. "It ain't his fault if I'm restive, lyin' in this damn wagon day after day." He looked at her slyly. "Mebbe, if I could have a smoke ..."
"Sam Eden, yo're plumb crazy," she snapped. "Here's yu with yore innards all tore up an' yu want baccy. Where'd yu be if it makes yu cough an' starts a bleedin'?" She looked at Jeff. "Beat it," she added.
The foreman obeyed, leaving them wrangling, but there was a smile on his face. Riding beside the wagon he stooped and peeped through a hole in the cover. The patient had a pipe in his mouth and his nurse was striking a match.
"Pure gold, that woman," Jeff murmured. "But her tongue cuts like a bowie."
Quickening his pace, he rode after the herd. As he passed the remuda, he spoke to Lasker:
"We must be near Injun country now. Best not let yore hosses stray far to-night. yu can have help if yu want it." The wrangler nodded sullenly. "I can manage," he said. "Been this way afore?" Jeff asked.
"Nope, it's new to me," the man replied.
Two or three miles were covered and their eyes were gladdened by the sight of trees in the far distance. For days past they had seen no timber--for the sparse scrub-oak and stunted mesquite could not be so designated--and they knew the line of foliage indicated a river.
"Reckon that'll be the Red," Sudden remarked to Sandy. "She'll be high," Sandy predicted.
Their fears proved to be well founded, when, a little later, Sudden and the foreman--who had ridden ahead--halted on the bank of the river. Jeff's face fell as he surveyed the swift-moving, eddying torrent, murky with the red sediment which stained the timber and driftwood along the banks and gave the river its name. He shook his head.
"She's all of six hundred yards acrost an' with the drift thatmeans swimmin' near twice as fur, an' she's carryin' too much sand," he said. "We'll never make it as the cards lie."
"Better play it safe, ol-timer," Sudden agreed. "These streams, I've heard, rise an' fall in a day."
He was studying the ground ; there were cattle-tracks in plenty but his experience
d eye told him that they had not been recently made.
"S'pose them jaspers in front of us beat the floodwater, but I'm guessin' they didn't cross here," he remarked.
"They may still be this side--further downstream," the foreman suggested. "The trail forked a few miles back. Well, we gotta wait, whether Sam likes it or not."
The wagon was drawn up beneath some tall pines, and the cook was busy with his pots and pans when a horseman rode in from the gloom. Sudden, watching the leaping flames of the big fire, stepped forward.
"This Sam Eden's outfit?" the new arrival queried, and then, peering from his saddle, "but of course it must be, unless you're riding for someone else. Isn't your name Green?"
Sudden did not reply. Directly the rider had come within the circle of firelight he had seen that it was Jethro Baudry, and, for some reason he did not attempt to track down, the aversion he had experienced on first meeting the man returned.
"And where is Sam? Not working while his men warm their hands, I hope?" Baudry went on, with clumsy facetiousness. "yu'll find Mister Eden in the wagon, seh," the cowboy said stiffly, and walked away.
The gambler's eyes followed him and their expression was scarcely amiable. "Starchy, eh?" he muttered. "Odd about Sam though."
He rode over to the wagon, got down, and looked in. By the light of a hanging oil-lamp he saw the invalid, pale and haggard, but obviously on the mend.
"Hello, Sam, what's the meaning of this?" he greeted. "Howdy, Jethro," the cattleman responded. "Come right in an' I'll tell yu."
Squatting on a sack of meal, chewing a black cigar, the visitor listened in silence to the story and then gave his opinion :
"Looks like redskins ; who else would want to lay you out?"
"yu can search me. But how come yu here, Jethro?"
"Meeting a man at Doan's Store--some way down the river.
Got news of a herd arriving and suspicioned it might be the S E. you're making good time, Sam."
"Barrin' this," Eden tapped his chest, "we've been lucky. Mebbe all our troubles is to come."
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