by Max Brand
“We cussed the Champ so much for that that he got sure downhearted. That night we sat around wondering when we’d eat next, and when Ramsay’s devils would rush the house. When the mornin’ come we seen that Champ Sullivan wasn’t no place around. We’d talked a little too much to him. Maybe he turned yaller, too. Him bein’ such a great eater.”
There was a universal snarl of rage from the others in the shack. There was no doubt of the fate of Champ if ever he should meet with one of these men.
“That meant,” went on Chick, “that Ramsay knowed everything about us. It meant that Champ would tell him that we had half a million with us — an’ no chuck! Of course we knew, after that, that Ramsay would stay by us like a wolf until he got that coin.
“We talked about tryin’ to rush through ’em. But how could we rush when we didn’t have no hosses?
“Nope, we was trapped, and the worst of it was that we could see, when the day come, that there wasn’t no need for us to have settled down in that trap. Right plumb ahead of us the canon narrowed down, but there wasn’t no cliff there. There was a place where the wall broke, and we could see through that crack, you might say, that there was a way through the hills outside of the canon. We seen that, and I’ll say that it plumb made us sick. There we was done up in a knot, but if we’d kept right on ridin’ we might of got into rough goin’ where we could of dodged Ramsay and his murderin’ crew, or else that end of the canon was so dog-gone narrow that a couple of us could of crowded the pass full of lead and kept Ramsay back while the rest of us breathed our hosses.
“But we seen that we was cooped up and that we couldn’t get out no way that we figured. All that we could do was to keep Ramsay’s man-killers off as far as a rifle would carry in the day. In the night they might sneak up an’ rush us. But they’d be pretty sure to wait a while for that until we was pretty weak from hunger and easier for them to handle.
“But there ain’t any way of figurin’ Ramsay. He does what you don’t expect. However, there he was sittin’ easy, with three men for one that we had, and ready to jump us when he wanted to. And we had to get word through to you, Harry.
“Lefty got out a pack of cards. We drew for the jack of spades, and I got the unlucky card. I was to try to sneak through by myself tonight an’ then make for you, because we knowed that you’d be up here, of course; so when the dark come, I sneaked out and rustled down the valley. I got along fine for a couple of hundred yards. Then I seen a gent ride right out from behind some rocks; he was ridin’ the rounds of the canyon to watch for just that sort of a thing as I was tryin’ to do. He seen me an’ I seen him at the same time; we drawed at the same time; but I got in my slug a wink quicker’n him. He fanned the hat off’n my head, but I plumb centered him.
“I could hear ’em yell behind the rocks, but I was already in the saddle beneath an’ ridin’ hard for the mouth of the valley. They come like greyhounds after me, but I had a hoss that was a hoss beneath me. I shook ’em off, all except three, and them three had better hosses than mine. How I managed to stave ’em off till 1 got here, I dunno. I tried every trick an’ hand-beneath every step of the way. Anyway, here I am to tell you that there’s half a million down yonder in Salisbury Canon waitin’ for you to come an’ get it, Harry!”
With this concise statement of the case, he ended, and a little silence fell upon the group, each man thinking hard and fast, making every effort to evolve a plan for safety.
“There’s one thing more,” said Hank Geer. “Now that Ramsay knows you got the news and that you’ll be comin’ on the wing for him, he may try to make a dicker with them that are left in the shack alive. He may offer them their share of the coin if they’ll surrender. The question is: What would they do in a case like that? Would they hold out when they got a good excuse to surrender?”
“They’d never trust themselves to a bunch of half-breeds like the gang that follers Ramsay,” said someone from the back of the room.
“Ramsay,” retorted Harry Christopher, “could make a man think that black was white. I know him an’ his ways.”
“We got as many men as Ramsay has,” blurted out big Sam Buttrick. “Countin’ in the boys that are in the shack, we got about as many men as Ramsay has. Why not go down and just fight it out with him?”
“You talk like a fool, Sam,” said the leader with pronounced heat. “What good is it to have a massacre? Suppose we did beat him? We wouldn’t beat him by more’n one or two men. And don’t we all want to have our shares in the coin? Besides, if we rode down to force things, he could keep Lefty’s party in the shack by throwin’ three or four gents around the place with rifles. The whole rest of his men would be ready to mix up with us.”
“Send in a message to Lefty,” said Hank. “Try to slip somebody through the lines to tell Lefty when we’re comin’ and where we’re comin.’ Then at the same time that we bust in from the outside, he’ll try to bust out from the inside. We’ll catch Ramsay on both sides.”
26. TO SACRIFICE ALLAN
THERE WAS MANIFESTLY much good sense in this suggestion of Hank’s, and his chief nodded slowly. He believed in taking good advice. He did not, however, believe in listening to the chatter of many men. He now asked Chick Martin and Hank Geer to walk out with him so that they could talk the whole matter over and come to some sort of a decision. The three departed, leaving the others.
In an adjoining nest of rocks they built a fire and cowered close over it, for the night was turning extremely cold. With their hands extended over the flames, casting great thick shadows over their faces, they drew up their schemes.
First of all a plan of Salisbury Canon, and the high lands immediately around it was drawn up by Chick Martin as carefully as he could draw and remember. It was seen, then, that the narrow valley widened gradually from its beginning to its mouth. In the upper portion it was simply a shallow depression among sharply rolling hills. Finally, in the canon itself, the walls of the valley became steep cliffs which were quite impossible for a horse to pass. It was toward the upper part of the canon that the shack which was now the fortress of Lefty Bill stood. And obviously there were only two ways of approaching it. One was the more natural. It was to come up the valley from below, where there would be more room on either hand. The second was to travel around Salisbury’s length and descend to the goal down the dry valley. Here they would be forced to enter through a much more narrow aperture where a few well-posted men would be able to hold them at bay, perhaps. On the other hand, their approach would be more apt to be expected from below, and there might be the advantage of surprise by swarming down through the narrower gulch.
“Which is just what that fox Ramsay would be likely to figure,” said Harry Christopher. “Boys, we got to do something that has brain in it, here. Otherwise we’re simply goin’ to turn Salisbury Canon into a butcher shop, and Ramsay’s bunch will be the butchers. They know their ground. They’re all good shots. They’ve done so many murders that they’d as soon shoot at a man as at a dog. And our boys in the shack there with Lefty Bill won’t be much account. They’ll make a noise with their guns, maybe, but gents that have gone without chuck for such a while ain’t goin’ to have steady hands.”
This was all very obvious. But what was the brainy maneuver which could be accomplished? Harry Christopher was fumbling toward it.
“We got to make Ramsay and his gang think that we’re sure to come in through one direction. Then we’ll slip in the other way. We got to make him bunch his gang together, and then we’ll come in from the other side.”
“That sounds easy. How’ll we do it?”
“With a false alarm.”
“A what?”
“Send in a gent with a message that’ll seem like it was meant for Lefty Bill but will really be meant for just Ramsay.”
“Where’ll you find a gent among the gang that’ll be willing to put himself into Ramsay’s hands?”
“Get one that’ll run into Ramsay’s hands — but not on purpose.”<
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“What d’you mean, Harry?”
“Is Ramsay a fox?”
“Of course.”
“If a fool was sent to get to Lefty Bill, would Ramsay get him before he ever reached to Lefty?”
“Sure. That’s plain. It’ll take a mighty smart man to break into the valley. Every night Ramsay’ll have his gents out watchin’.”
“Very well, then, I say that I have the very man for the purpose.”
“What man, Harry?”
“Guess. A blockhead that don’t know nothin’. A bull with his hands but a fool in the head.”
“Al Vincent!” cried Hank Geer.
“You’re right.”
“It’d mean that he’d be stopped with a bullet, Harry.”
“What of that?”
“Only this: He’s a dog-gone white kid, as square as they come. I seen him closer than the rest of you lately, and he’s always played square and true to the rest of us. I’ve watched him through the thick of it.”
“He near made the whole four of you get caught, Hank. Is that playin’ square?”
“He had a hoss that he couldn’t make run fast. That started things. But he got us out of one bad hole by takin’ a growed-up regular Cranston County fightin’ man with his bare hands.”
“His hands are a great deal more useful than his head. I have said so before.”
“I’d hate to see any harm come to him.”
“Hank, don’t be a fool. Is he worth half a million to you?”
Hank, chewing his nether lip, was silent.
“Besides,” said Harry Christopher sneeringly, “he’ll die with no pain. The gents that ride with Ramsay shoot mighty straight. Hank; here’s our chance to win back the whole slough of that coin!”
Twice the thin lips of Hank parted to speak in behalf of the youth; and twice the words failed to come. For, after all, money was money and a fool was sure to die soon, at any rate.
There by the fire on a scrap of paper the leader wrote his message to Lefty Bill. It read:
Dear Lefty: I’m sending in a message to you by Al Vincent, because I intend to come to give you a hand right away. Vincent will get to you about dusk. I’m pretty sure that he’ll win through to you because he’s as clever a fellow as I know. This will let you know that I intend to come right up through the valley, from the mouth, because I think that Ramsay won’t expect us from that direction. I’ll have extra horses with me. The minute you see the sun stick up over the mountains, bust loose and start for the mouth of the canon. I’ll be ridin’ as hard as I can, and all my boys behind me. We’ll meet you more’n halfway, and when we meet you, we’ll have horses for you to jump onto. We’ll be in and out ag’in before Ramsay and his bunch of man-killers know what we’re about. All depends on you making a quick start. The minute you see the edge of the sun showing, come hell-bent for the mouth of the canon.
Give our best wishes to the boys. I’m sending in some chuck by Al. It’ll be enough to give you one square meal, at least. Then pull your belts tight and get ready to work fast in the morning. I’d try it at night, but a lot of things can go wrong at night, and, besides, the dark is the time when that gang of Ramsay’s will begin to keep the sharpest lookout. As soon as the morning light begins to get bright, they’ll be thinking about hitting the hay.
Harry.
This composition he read aloud to his companions and their applause was most heartfelt. If there had been some doubts and some remorse in the mind of Hank Geer, he forgot them now. The beauty and the simplicity of the scheme appealed to him like delicious music full of surprises, constantly revealing new charms. For, as he saw it, this letter, captured on the person of poor Allan, would undoubtedly induce Ramsay to concentrate his forces of ruffians around the lower end of the canon, and from the upper mouth of the ravine the rescuers could strike quickly in to the shack, gather the fasting friends whom they found there, and so sweep away again, cutting to pieces whatever guards might be on duty and avoiding a battle with the bulk of Ramsay’s forces until all of Christopher’s men were joined together. Indeed, it was very doubtful if even Ramsay would persist in schemes of robbing the robbers if he had once received such a repulse as this would be!
And then the two halves of the gang would be united. The plunder could then be shared, and all of this would be accomplished, if matters went well, at the risk of a few chance bullets and, at the most, the certain death of young Allan. Such a death was an unfortunate sacrifice, but prices must be paid for all good things. And with this reflection, all the remorse died away in the mind of Hank Geer.
There remained to persuade the gull to undertake the journey, and this Harry Christopher took upon his own shoulders. He made no attempt to talk to Allan that night. He waited until a night’s sleep had rubbed the weariness out of the brain of his recruit. But after the breakfast coffee, as the rest of the party sunned itself before the shack and yawned at the breathless distances among the mountains, he took Allan to one side and opened the affair to him.
“Al,” he said, “I have been watching you since you joined us and everything that I’ve seen has been right. There’s some things that you don’t know. But you’re picking up quick. What you’ve got most of all is a good head on your shoulders. You take time, you think things out, and you’re cool. And that’s why you’re the only gent in the gang that I can come to at a time like this. I got to get a message to Lefty Bill. Will you take it?”
Had Allan been asked to accept sudden death, such a question could hardly have been more welcome, but Christopher went on as though he did not expect an immediate answer and as though he had paid no attention to the pale face of his youthful companion.
“It’ll be a harder job than the one that Chick got away with. Ramsay will be on the lookout as sharp as a cat, now. That’s why I have to send my best man. And take it by and large, you’re the man I mean, Al. What d’you think of it?”
“I haven’t had a chance to think,” said Allan.
“Take your time. I don’t want you to jump at this. I want you to take it easy, partner, and figure this out carefully. You understand? It’s a big chance. I need a man with a big heart to try it. But there’s six poor devils dyin’ in that canon. Along with the message, there’d be some chuck for ’em.”
He had struck skillfully upon the right chord, and he swallowed a smile as he saw Allan straighten and draw in a deeper breath.
“After all,” said Allan quietly, “I’ve given you my word that I’d do as you want me to do. If you choose me, I suppose that I have to go. When shall I start?”
The leader reached out his hand and clasped that of Allan. “Son,” he said, “you got the makings of great things in you. You’re goin’ to win through with this here game. I feel it in my bones. An’ when you’ve finished it, you an’ me are goin’ to be a pile thicker than we’ve been up to this time. I’ve been holdin’ off, Al; sort of studyin’ you, but I liked you right from the first, y’understand?”
There was no reply except a murmur from Allan. He turned away to find Jim Jones, for he was in sore need of council. And as he went, Christopher summoned Geer with a gesture.
“Keep the straight facts dark from Jim,” he said. “If he finds out that it’s a plant, he’ll be plumb wild.”
27. SLOW AL ENTERS THE RACE
THE PLAN WHICH was suggested by the leader was simply that Allan should reconnoiter the mouth of the valley and, if it proved to be only remissly guarded, slip through with his horse and proceed at full speed straight up the canon toward the shack. If he had fortune, it might be that he would not be seen until he was close to the shack, and then he could trust to the speed of his horse and to the darkness of the night to shield him from the fire of Ramsay’s fighters.
If he found, however, that the entrance to the canon was closely guarded, then he should not attempt the impossible but, giving up the effort to penetrate by that direction, he was to ride around to the side of the valley and climb down the precipitous wall of rock on
the north of the shack, abandoning his horse and the precious provisions. For, after all, the message he carried was to be considered far more in importance than the mere food he might bring to the besieged. Having reached the foot of the wall, he was to attempt to slip through the line of the besiegers and reach the shack, and this was the scheme which was most favored by Jim Jones, as he anxiously went over the possibilities with his friend. In the first place he had striven ardently to dissuade Allan from the attempt, but the latter was adamant. He could never be forward in the crimes while he was among them. But here was an opportunity t6 serve without violating the law, and he determined to do his best in the desperate matter.
There was nothing that could be done for him by Jim except to equip him with the best possible advice. And that advice was to treat the men of Ramsay as though they were wild beasts, for Ramsay himself was little more than a predatory animal, and he had gathered around him a crew of desperadoes of his own ilk — outcasts from every society but their own, half-breeds and white men who had forgotten everything saving the brute in their natures.
“Remember that,” said Jim. “Because the trouble with you, Al, is that you figure on every gent being as decent under the skin as you are yourself I But if you get into a mix with Ramsay’s men, shoot!”
That was the parting injunction after which Allan started on the long trail across the mountains with the lofty head of Salisbury Peak to guide him in the distance. By mid-afternoon he was within striking distance of the mouth of the canon, but there he made a camp, let his horse graze, and rested until the dusk began, partly because he must have the night to cover him when he made his attempt, and partly because both he and his horse should be fresh when the time came for the effort.