Delphi Collected Works of Max Brand US

by Max Brand

  “And why the devil do you want me, Rainier?”

  “Because you’re a good man to have, Dreer. You can keep a cool head. We’ll strike up a partnership before we’re through.”

  “Not in a thousand years. I’ve told you that before. I’m in on this one job, and the only reason I’m in on it is because my pal, Dan Carrol, has begged me to go through for him. After this I’m out.”

  “Wait till you count the easy money, Dreer. I’ve heard others talk like you until we’ve got the can opened and the stuff in our pockets. Then they change.”

  He turned toward the door again.

  “I wonder if it ain’t time to go now?”

  “You seem sort of anxious to see them boys,” remarked the outlaw suspiciously.

  “Fact is,” replied Gus Norman, “that they’s a couple of ’em I ain’t laid eyes on for a long time. I’m kind of homesick for ’em.”

  He went to the wall and took down a saddle from the peg.

  “Well, I’m off, Dreer. Back inside of half an hour.”

  “Take your time. But what’s that?”

  A heavy matting of grass covered most of the valley, muffling the sound of all who approached, but near the cabin there was a gravel coating to the ground. On this gravel, now, came the loud clatter of a galloping horse, and rushed on the cabin. Both men faced the door, but neither of them had time to reach it, when a foaming horse lunged into view and from the saddle leaped a slender youth, who staggered when his feet struck the ground. He recovered himself, turned toward the cabin, and Dreer saw the face of Mary Valentine.

  “Oh, Jess,” she cried hysterically. “I’m in time. But watch him!”

  There had been one convulsive movement on the part of Gus Norman, but now he apparently saw that it would be impossible for him to reach his horse and escape. He stood with a sullen face in the corner.

  “What’s the matter, Rainier?”

  “Rainier?” said the girl. She entered the cabin and stood with her feet braced, her legs trembling with weariness.

  “He’s no more Rainier than I am. Rainier is a mere robber. That man is a sneaking murderer, Jess. That’s Gus Norman.”

  “My, my,” said Jess Dreer softly, but his face was black. “I been thinking you was a little wrong, Gus Norman, but I never come within miles of guessing. Not within miles!”

  “You got me two to one,” said Gus Norman, fixing his eyes on the girl. “You got me cornered; I’ll talk turkey.”

  “Not two to one,” said Jess Dreer. “Not by no means. One of us is a girl, Gus Norman. I’ll send her out of the cabin, and you and me can finish up with a little chat man to man. Eh?”

  Norman’s mouth worked convulsively behind his beard. For one instant his wolfish face grew so savage that it seemed he was about to draw, but he controlled himself.

  “No use,” he said doggedly. “I won’t fight you, Dreer. I ain’t a trained man- killer, and you know it. Nope, I ain’t got you, yet, but you ain’t got me. I’ll tell you why. The minute they’s a gun fired, Dreer, them hills will come alive. They’ll be twenty men come hopping for this cabin. You’re a hard man, Dreer, but d’ you think you could get twenty fighting men?”

  He leered at him as he spoke.

  “No, son. We split fifty-fifty. You can go out with me, and I’ll call the boys off. That’s square.”

  “Except that you lie,” broke in Mary Valentine. “Don’t you see it in his little animal eyes, Jess? The truth is that his gang of Normans and Sheriff Claney are all cached up yonder, between the ears of that mountain. They’re waiting until they get his signal that you’re here, and they aren’t expected to be there, waiting, until an hour after sunrise. That was the plan.”

  Jess Dreer watched Norman silently, and under that stare the older man backed up slowly until his shoulders struck the wall.

  “Just step out to my saddle and get me the coil of rope you find on it, will you, Mary.”

  She obeyed; and a minute later Norman was trussed beyond hope of movement.

  “I’d ought to kill you, Norman,” said Jess, “but I leave butchering for the slaughterhouses.”

  He turned to the girl at last. Until now he had given her not a word of welcome, but now, as his glance went slowly, leisurely over her, words became too light for use.

  Her hair had fallen loose under the brim of her hat; from one white arm the sleeve had been torn; and now she was shrinking into the shadow, as if ashamed of her man’s dress.

  “Mary,” he said at last, “what have you done for me?”

  “It was the short cut that brought me here; I thought it was too late when I got the news, but now — I’m here, Jess, and you’re safe! I’ve been thinking on the way — I’ve been seeing you — dead! You see? You seem more of ghost than real right now.”

  He raised his hand to stop her, growing thoughtful. And his lean face puckered until one might have thought that he was becoming angry.

  “You rode through the mountains from the ranch? You did it at night?”

  “There was the moon — almost as bright as day, Jess.”

  He shook his head.

  “I didn’t know they was any women like you, Mary. I didn’t know they was even any men.”

  “But stay away, Jess. Stay away! I’m afraid of you! Don’t come stalking at me like that!”

  “I was going to shake hands,” said Jess Dreer, “to show the world in general, and mostly to show you, that Jess Dreer has a pal at last. And heavens, girl, but I’ve led a lonesome life.”

  A smile began to tremble on her lips — surely she had never been so lovely as she was now in the shadow, in those ragged clothes — but the hand which she extended toward him was arrested halfway.

  “Jess!” she screamed, looking past him. “Caswell!”

  He whirled as the first word left her lips; whirled toward Caswell, who stood, gun in hand, at the door; and the marvel of it was that he was able to get his gun from the holster and fire before Caswell could send home his shot. He fired, and the sheriff wavered as though he had been struck with a fist; then his own gun spoke, and there was a clangor of steel. The revolver flew out of the hand of Jess Dreer, struck the wall, and dropped with a clatter on the floor, while Jess Dreer stood staring stupidly down at his disarmed hand.

  Mary, with a wail of terror, caught out her own weapon, but the slow voice of Dreer stopped her.

  “Put away that gun, Mary. You see, Caswell ain’t like that thing in the corner. He’s a man, and he won’t fight a woman. So just put up your gun. I reckon this little play is all over.”

  CHAPTER 42

  SHE HESITATED, AND then obeyed.

  “It isn’t possible,” she moaned. “He can’t be here!”

  Sheriff Caswell stepped through the door, his left arm dangling oddly by his side.

  “To tell you true,” he said quietly, “a couple of times during the ride it didn’t look noways possible to me, either. Once when we come to the slide, and then when you shot my hoss.” He shook his head. “That wasn’t hardly fair play, but then I never see a woman that wouldn’t shave pretty close to the shady side of things. This is how I’m here: I went back to the ranch after you drilled my hoss and got another, and my second hoss was some piece of deviltry and leather. They wasn’t no wear out to that hoss, but I wore him out, anyways. He dropped a while back, and I come on by foot and staged this little surprise party just when I’d give up my last hope. Jess, I’ll trouble you to go over there and cut my friend Norman loose. I see you been entertaining him a plenty.”

  Without a word Dreer obeyed. At the touch of his knife the rope fell apart, and Gus Norman rose. He showed no exultation because of the presence of the sheriff. In fact, he hated the man who had seen him tied and helpless.

  “Looks like you’re making ropes popular for clothes, Jess,” went on the sheriff. “First it’s Clancy; now it’s Norman. If you don’t mind, I’ll give you the same sort of a rig — unless you’ll give me your parole, pardner—”

&nb
sp; But Dreer smiled.

  “Of course, I’m a goner. I’ve always felt, Caswell, that if you ever got your teeth into me the game would be up. And now I suppose it is. But I’ll keep trying.”

  The sheriff sighed.

  “All right, Jess. Then it’s the rope; which I hate to use ’em on a man-sized man. Norman, will you oblige me by slipping a couple of nooses around Dreer’s arms and legs?”

  The other spoke for the first time.

  “Pardner,” he said viciously, “they’s one thing that would put him out of trouble. Why not try it and save the rope?”

  He touched his revolver significantly.

  “You do what I say,” said the sheriff. “I don’t need no suggestions.”

  So Gus Norman went ahead sullenly with the work of tying Dreer. Presently the sheriff spoke again.

  “You needn’t sink them nooses into the flesh, Norman.”

  “Thanks,” and Dreer nodded.

  “And now, if you’ll take the lady’s guns, I’ll be real obliged, Norman. Thanks.” He added, to Mary: “You might get careless. I’ve seen it happen.”

  He sat down cross-legged on the floor; a great spot of red was growing and spreading around his left shoulder.

  “Now, Norman, just cut away my shirt and make a bandage for this shoulder of mine. Then ride into Windville and send out a buckboard, so we can all go in together.”

  “You mean you’re going to trust Dreer to another jail?”

  He added softly: “He’s worth just as much dead as he is alive, Sheriff.”

  “Listen,” murmured Caswell. “You’re getting me real peeved, Norman. In the first place, I don’t like the way you say it; second place, I don’t like the thing you say. Dreer is going to stay alive till the judge hands him the rope. Now, do what I say. You can be back here in two hours. I’ll take care of ’em in the meanwhile.”

  And Gus Norman, with a black face, obeyed, and drew the bandages which they improvised hastily around the sheriffs shoulders.

  A moment later he was on his horse and clattering away.

  “So here we are,” murmured Jess Dreer. “Mary, could you do me a terrible big favor?”

  She, had been sitting with her head bowed in her hands, trembling. “Yes,” she murmured.

  “Wonder if you’d be any hand at rolling a cigarette?”

  “I’ve done them for the boys often. Yes.”

  “Pocket of this shirt is where the makings are.”

  She took out the papers and tobacco. “And one thing more. Smile for me, Mary.”

  It was a white caricature of a smile with which she obeyed him. She said nothing while she rolled the cigarette, placed it between his lips, and lighted it. He thanked her with a nod.

  “Are you in a pile of pain, Sheriff?”

  “Not me, Jess. I’m comfortable, well enough. Besides, it’s only a couple of hours to wait.”

  “Less’n that. Norman ain’t going to town. He’s got his gang and Claney cached away up in the hills yonder. He’ll be back with ’em inside an hour and a half, or less.”

  “But how can they move me without a buckboard? I can’t sit a saddle with this.”

  “It ain’t you they’re worrying about. They’re thinking about me. Steady, Mary!”

  “Yes,” she whispered, and set her teeth.

  The sheriff looked from one to the other with a frown; then he shook his head.

  “May I ask one thing?”

  “A thousand, Caswell, and welcome.”

  “Where was you and the girl figuring to head together?”

  “I dunno,” said Jess Dreer, as though the thought had just come into his head. “What was we figuring on, Mary?”

  She could not speak; but a pitiful ghost of a smile came on her face and went out again as she looked at him.

  “They ain’t any use of feeling cut up, Sheriff. It was simply the end of my luck. The old gun went back on me.”

  “Went back on you? Jess, that was the neatest snap shot I ever seen. There I was standing with the gun in my hand, and yet you beat me to the shot.”

  “Maybe it looked that. But as a matter of fact she hung in the holster. And when I got the gun on you at last, I had to hurry the shot. A hundredth part of a second more — I’m sorry to say it, Caswell, and you’d of been dead as a thousand years ago.”

  The sheriff moistened his pale lips.

  “I kind of half believe you, Jess. But then, wasn’t it luck for you that my shot hit your own gun instead of hitting you?”

  “It wouldn’t of hit me. My gun was two inches away from my side. That snap shot of yours was traveling wide, Caswell, when it hit my gun. No, I figure the luck was with you.”

  The sheriff cautiously raised the back of his hand that held the gun and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. He shifted his position a little to one side, so that he could look at a more favorable angle on the girl, but as he did so, forgetfully he threw his weight on his left arm. There was no muscular reaction, of course, but the bones of the arm shoved up against the injured shoulder and strained heavily against the bandage. The sheriff, white with pain, settled suddenly back in the shadow.

  “That hurt you, Caswell?”

  “Not a bit, Jess. Just a twinge. That’s all.”

  But a moment later he knew that he had belied the situation. The strain had loosened the bandage at the same time that it opened the raw wound, and when the pain subsided a little, he was aware of something hot running down his side in a steady trickle. He tried to raise his shoulder so that the bandage would press again on the wound and cut off the bleeding. It was no use.

  With a touch of coldness he realized that an hour at least must run before Norman returned, and in the meantime, what might not that steady flow do to him? It would render him helpless as a woman.

  As the smile occurred to him, he looked at the girl. Aye, more helpless than this girl, certainly, who had ridden with the daring of more than most men that night. Dreer himself was securely bound. But what of the girl? How could he disarm her in the same manner?

  “Jess,” he said, “they’s one thing I want to ask.”

  “Fire away, Sheriff,” replied the outlaw, maintaining his unvarying good nature.

  “I could of had Norman tie the girl, you know.”

  “Sure, I know it.”

  “And if it come to a pinch, it’d sort of run agin’ nature for me to fight a woman, Jess.”

  “I know that. You’re white enough, Caswell.”

  “Well, then, all I ask is that you won’t let the girl help you no way to escape.”

  “I’ll promise I won’t take no help from her.”

  “Don’t!” cried Mary Valentine suddenly. “Don’t say it, Jess. I tell you, something is happening. And he knows it! He knows it!”

  The sheriff grinned feebly at her.

  “I know it, Mary Valentine. But he’s promised.”

  “You tricked it out of him!”

  “You got something to learn, lady,” answered the sheriff. “No matter how you get it, Dreer’s word is good as gold. I’m going fast, but mind you, Jess, not a finger of help from the girl!”

  “What the devil is the matter?” cried the outlaw. “What’s got into you, Caswell? You look like a ghost!”

  “Look!”

  He swayed over and showed a thin pool of crimson beside him. His smile was ghastly.

  “I busted her open ag’in.”

  Jess Dreer groaned. Then: “Caswell, you fool, would you die like this?”

  “I dunno, Jess. Yep, I’d put death under taking you. I’ve got you, son, and I’ll die sooner than let you go loose.”

  “Let’s dicker, Caswell. Mary, here, will bandage you up so’s you’ll be safe. They ain’t any danger if that bleeding can be stopped. You’re safe, and you let Mary cut my ropes.”

  The sheriff sighed, and then shook his head.

  “Here I stay,” he said, “living or dead. And there you stay, Dreer, until they come for you.”

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sp; CHAPTER 43

  A SILENCE FELL between them; and the bright, desperate, hopeful eyes of Mary Valentine went from one to the other. She had risen to her feet.

  The head of the sheriff sagged; he jerked it straight again with a mighty effort.

  “Your oath, Dreer!” he said hoarsely.

  “Yes. I intend to stay by it. I’ll take no help from her. But if you won’t make an exchange, then Mary’ll fix you up, anyway. Mary, tie up his shoulder again. Caswell, you’re going under!”

  The sheriff turned his shadowed eyes upon the girl with a last appeal.

  “Will you do that?” he asked.

  “And let Jess die?” said the girl. “Trade you for him?”

  “There’s no question of a trade,” broke in Dreer. “I’m a goner, anyway. There’s no chance for me to get loose without the use of my hands or my feet, and without your help. There’s no question of an exchange. It’s only a matter of saving the sheriff.”

  “If he drops,” said the girl, very white of face, “then you can try to get away. As long as he has his senses and that gun, you haven’t a ghost of hope. I won’t raise a hand for him, Jess.”

  “Caswell, won’t you talk to her?”

  “I’ve never begged for bread or money,” said the dauntless sheriff. “And I won’t start now begging for my life.”

  “Then I command you, Mary. D’you hear me? I command you to give Caswell a hand.”

  “I won’t do it, Jess. That’s flat.”

  “Ain’t you got a drop of mercy in your body, girl?”

  “Not for your enemies, Jess. Not a drop!”

  “I’ll tell you a thing I never thought to talk about. It was Caswell that gave me the watch spring that gave me the chance to break away from the jail. He saved my life once. I got a life that I owe to him. He wouldn’t let the dogs take me. He took his own chance. And now he’s got me in a fair-and-square fight, the first time any man on earth ever did. Mary, for Heaven’s sake be a woman. Go help him!”

  “You can break my heart, Jess, but you can’t budge me with your talk. You’re more to me than he is!”

  “It’s a question of what’s right, not one man agin’ another. Girl, I tell you he’s always played fair on the trail. He’s never once used a dirty trick agin’ me!”