The Max Brand Megapack

by Max Brand

  “He played square—he’s a better man than I. Dan, when you get him, do it the same way—face to face—with time for him to think of hell before he gets there. Partner, I’m going. Wish me luck.”

  “Tex—partner—good luck!”

  It seemed as if that parting wish was granted, for Calder died with a smile.

  When Dan rose slowly Gus Morris stepped up and laid a hand on his arm: “Look here, there ain’t no use of bein’ sad for Tex Calder. His business was killin’ men, an’ his own time was overdue.”

  Dan turned a face that made Morris wince.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, with an attempt at bluff good nature. “Do you hate everyone because one man is dead? I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll loan you a buckboard an’ a pair of hosses to take Tex back to Elkhead. As for this feller Haines, I’ll take care of him.”

  “I sure need a buckboard,” said Dan slowly, “but I’ll get the loan from a—white man!”

  He turned his back sharply on the sheriff and asked if any one else had a wagon they could lend him. One of the men had stopped at Morris’s place on his way to Elkhead. He immediately proposed that they make the trip together.

  “All right,” said Morris carelessly. “I won’t pick trouble with a crazy man. Come with me, Haines.”

  He turned to leave the room.

  “Wait!” said Dan.

  Haines stopped as though someone had seized him by the shoulder.

  “What the devil is this now?” asked Morris furiously. “Stranger, d’you think you c’n run the world? Come on with me, Haines!”

  “He stays with me,” said Dan.

  “By God,” began Morris, “if I thought—”

  “This ain’t no place for you to begin thinkin’,” said the man who had offered his buckboard to Dan. “This feller made the capture an’ he’s got the right to take him into Elkhead if he wants. They’s a reward on the head of Lee Haines.”

  “The arrest is made in my county,” said Morris stoutly, “an’ I’ve got the say as to what’s to be done with a prisoner.”

  “Morris,” said Haines earnestly, “if I’m taken to Elkhead it’ll be simply a matter of lynching. You know the crowd in that town.”

  “Right—right,” said Morris, eagerly picking up the word. “It’d be plain lynchin’—murder—”

  Dan broke in: “Haines, step over here behind me!”

  For one instant Haines hesitated, and then obeyed silently.

  “This is contempt of the law and an officer of the law,” said Morris. “An” I’ll see that you get fined so that—”

  “Better cut it short there, sheriff,” said one of the men. “I wouldn’t go callin’ the attention of folks to the way Jim Silent walked into your own house an’ made his getaway without you tryin’ to raise a hand. Law or no law, I’m with this stranger.”

  “Me too,” said another; “any man who can fan a gun like him don’t need no law.”

  The sheriff saw that the tide of opinion had set strongly against him and abandoned his position with speed if not with grace. Dan ordered Haines to walk before him outside the house. They faced each other in the dim moonlight.

  “I’ve got one question to ask you,” he said.

  “Make it short,” said Haines calmly. “I’ve got to do my talking before the lynching crowd.”

  “You can answer it in one word. Does Kate Cumberland—what is she to you?”

  Lee Haines set his teeth.

  “All the world,” he said.

  Even in the dim light he saw the yellow glow of Dan’s eyes and he felt as if a wolf stood there trembling with eagerness to leap at his throat.

  “An’ what are you to her?”

  “No more than the dirt under her feet!”

  “Haines, you lie!”

  “I tell you that if she cared for me as much as she does for the horse she rides on, I’d let the whole world know if I had to die for it the next moment.”

  Truth has a ring of its own.

  “Haines, if I could hear that from her own lips, I’d let you go free. If you’ll show me the way to Kate, I’ll set you loose the minute I see her.”

  “I can’t do it. I’ve given my faith to Silent and his men. Where she is, they are.”

  “Haines, that means death for you.”

  “I know it.”

  Another plan had come to Dan as they talked. He took Haines inside again and coming out once more, whistled for Bart. The wolf appeared as if by magic through the dark. He took out Kate’s glove, which the wolf had brought to him in the willows, and allowed him to smell it. Bart whined eagerly. If he had that glove he would range the hills until he found its owner, directed to her by that strange instinct of the wild things. If Kate still loved him the glove would be more eloquent than a thousand messages. And if she managed to escape, the wolf would guide her back to his master.

  He sat on his heels, caught the wolf on either side of the shaggy head, and stared into the glow of the yellow green eyes. It was as if the man were speaking to the wolf.

  At last, as if satisfied, he drew a deep breath, rose, and dropped the glove. It was caught in the flashing teeth. For another moment Bart stood whining and staring up to the face of his master. Then he whirled and fled out into the night.

  CHAPTER XXI

  ONE WAY OUT

  In a room of the Salton place, on the evening of the next day after Calder’s death, sat Silent, with Kilduff, Rhinehart, and Jordan about him. Purvis was out scouting for the news of Haines, whose long absence commenced to worry the gang. Several times they tried to induce Kate to come out and talk with them, but she was resolute in staying alone in the room which they had assigned to her. Consequently, to while away the time, Bill Kilduff produced his mouth organ and commenced a dolorous ballad. He broke short in the midst of it and stared at the door. The others followed the direction of his eyes and saw Black Bart standing framed against the fading daylight. They started up with curses; Rhinehart drew his gun.

  “Wait a minute,” ordered Silent.

  “Damn it!” exclaimed Jordan, “don’t you see Whistling Dan’s wolf? If the wolf’s here, Dan isn’t far behind.”

  Silent shook his head.

  “If there’s goin’ to be any shootin’ of that wolf leave it to Hal Purvis. He’s jest nacherally set his heart on it. An’ Whistlin’ Dan ain’t with the wolf. Look! there’s a woman’s glove hangin’ out of his mouth. He picked that up in the willows, maybe, an’ followed the girl here. Watch him!”

  The wolf slunk across the room to the door which opened on Kate’s apartment. Kate threw the door open—cried out at the sight of Bart—and then snatched up the glove he let drop at her feet.

  “No cause for gettin’ excited,” said Silent. “Whistlin’ Dan ain’t comin’ here after the wolf.”

  For answer she slammed the door.

  At the same moment Hal Purvis entered. He stepped directly to Silent, and stood facing him with his hands resting on his hips. His smile was marvellously unpleasant.

  “Well,” said the chief, “what’s the news? You got eloquent eyes, Hal, but I want words.”

  “The news is plain hell,” said Purvis, “Haines—”

  “What of him?”

  “He’s in Elkhead!”

  “Elkhead?”

  “Whistling Dan got him at Morris’s place and took him in along with the body of Tex Calder. Jim, you got to answer for it to all of us. You went to Morris’s with Lee. You come away without him and let him stay behind to be nabbed by that devil Whistlin’ Dan.”

  “Right,” said Kilduff, and his teeth clicked. “Is that playin’ fair?”

  “Boys,” said Silent solemnly, “if I had knowed that Whistlin’ Dan was there, I’d of never left Haines to stay behind. Morris said nothin’ about Calder havin’ a runnin’ mate. Me an’ Haines was in the upstairs room an’ about suppertime up came a feller an’ told us that Tex Calder had jest come into the dinin’-room. That was all. Did Whistlin’ Dan ge
t Lee from behind?”

  “He got him from the front. He beat Lee to the draw so bad that Haines hardly got his gun out of its leather!”

  “The feller that told you that lied,” said Silent. “Haines is as fast with his shootin’ iron as I am—almost!”

  The rest of the outlaws nodded to each other significantly.

  Purvis went on without heeding the interruption. “After I found out about the fight I swung towards Elkhead. About five miles out of town I met up with Rogers, the deputy sheriff at Elkhead. I thought you had him fixed for us, Jim?”

  “Damn his hide, I did. Is he playing us dirt now?”

  “A frosty mornin’ in December was nothin’ to the way he talked.”

  “Cut all that short,” said Rhinehart, “an’ let’s know if Rogers is goin’ to be able to keep the lynching party away from Haines!”

  “He says he thinks it c’n be done for a couple of days,” said Purvis, “but the whole range is risin’. All the punchers are ridin’ into Elkhead an’ wantin’ to take a look at the famous Lee Haines. Rogers says that when enough of ’em get together they’ll take the law in their own hands an’ nothin’ can stop ’em then.”

  “Why don’t the rotten dog give Haines a chance to make a getaway?” asked Silent. “Ain’t we paid him his share ever since we started workin’ these parts?”

  “He don’t dare take the chance,” said Purvis. “He says the boys are talkin’ mighty strong. They want action. They’ve put up a guard all around the jail an’ they say that if Haines gets loose they’ll string up Rogers. Everyone’s wild about the killin’ of Calder. Jim, ol’ Saunderson, he’s put up five thousand out of his own pocket to raise the price on your head!”

  “An’ this Whistlin’ Dan,” said Silent. “I s’pose they’re makin’ a hero out of him?”

  “Rogers says every man within ten miles is talkin’ about him. The whole range’ll know of him in two days. He made a nice play when he got in. You know they’s five thousand out on Haines’s head. It was offered to him by Rogers as soon as Dan brought Lee in. What d’you think he done? Pocketed the cheque? No, he grabbed it, an’ tore it up small: ‘I ain’t after no blood money,’ he says.”

  “No,” said Silent. “He ain’t after no money—he’s after me!”

  “Tomorrow they bury Calder. The next day Whistlin’ Dan’ll be on our trail again—an’ he’ll be playin’ the same lone hand. Rogers offered him a posse. He wouldn’t take it.”

  “They’s one pint that ain’t no nearer bein’ solved,” said Bill Kilduff in a growl, “an’ that’s how you’re goin’ to get Haines loose. Silent, it’s up to you. Which you rode away leavin’ him behind.”

  Silent took one glance around that waiting circle. Then he nodded.

  “It’s up to me. Gimme a chance to think.”

  He started walking up and down the room, muttering. At last he stopped short.

  “Boys, it can be done! They’s nothin’ like talkin’ of a woman to make a man turn himself into a plumb fool, an’ I’m goin’ to make a fool out of Whistlin’ Dan with this girl Kate!”

  “But how in the name of God c’n you make her go out an’ talk to him?” said Rhinehart.

  “Son,” answered Silent, “they’s jest one main trouble with you—you talk a hell of a pile too much. When I’ve done this I’ll tell you how it was figgered out!”

  CHAPTER XXII

  THE WOMAN’S WAY

  It was a day later, in the morning, that a hand knocked at Kate’s door and she opened it to Jim Silent. He entered, brushing off the dust of a long journey.

  “Good-mornin’, Miss Cumberland.”

  He extended a hand which she overlooked.

  “You still busy hatin’ me?”

  “I’m simply—surprised that you have come in here to talk to me.”

  “You look as if you seen somethin’ in my face?” he said suspiciously. “What is it? Dirt?”

  He brushed a hand across his forehead.

  “Whatever it is,” she answered, “you can’t rub it away.”

  “I’m thinkin’ of givin’ you a leave of absence—if you’ll promise to come back.”

  “Would you trust my honour?”

  “In a pinch like this,” he said amiably, “I would. But here’s my business. Lee Haines is jailed in Elkhead. The man that put him behind the bars an’ the only one that can take him out agin is Whistlin’ Dan. An’ the one person who can make Dan set Lee loose is you. Savvy? Will you go an’ talk with Dan? This wolf of his would find him for you.”

  She shook her head.

  “Why not?” cried Silent in a rising voice.

  “The last time he saw me,” she said, “he had reason to think that I tried to betray him because of Lee Haines. If I went to him now to plead for Haines he’d be sure that I was what he called me—Delilah!”

  “Is that final?”

  “Absolutely!”

  “Now get me straight. They’s a crowd of cowpunchers gatherin’ in Elkhead, an’ today or tomorrow they’ll be strong enough to take the law into their own hands and organize a little lynchin’ bee, savvy?”

  She shuddered.

  “It ain’t pleasant, is it, the picture of big, good-lookin’ Lee danglin’ from the end of a rope with the crowd aroun’ takin’ pot-shots at him? No, it ain’t, an’ you’re goin’ to stop it. You’re goin’ to start from here in fifteen minutes with your hoss an’ this wolf, after givin’ me your promise to come back when you’ve seen Whistlin’ Dan. You’re goin’ to make Dan go an’ set Lee loose.”

  She smiled in derision.

  “If Dan did that he’d be outlawed.”

  “You won’t stir?”

  “Not a step!”

  “Well, kid, for everything that happens to Lee somethin’ worse will happen to someone in the next room. Maybe you’d like to see him?”

  He opened the door and she stepped into the entrance. Almost opposite her sat old Joe Cumberland with his hands tied securely behind his back. At sight of her he rose with a low cry. She turned on big Silent and whipped the six-gun from his hip. He barely managed to grasp her wrist and swing the heavy revolver out of line with his body.

  “You little fiend,” he snarled, “drop the gun, or I’ll wring your neck.”

  “I don’t fear you,” she said, never wincing under the crushing grip on her wrists, “you murderer!”

  He said, calmly repossessing himself of his gun, “Now take a long look at your father an’ repeat all the things you was just saying’ to me.”

  She stared miserably at her father. When Silent caught Kate’s hand Cumberland had started forward, but Kilduff and Rhinehart held him.

  “What is it, Kate,” he cried. “What does it mean?”

  She explained it briefly: “This is Jim Silent!”

  He remained staring at her with open mouth as if his brain refused to admit what his ear heard.

  “There ain’t no use askin’ questions how an’ why she’s here,” said Silent. “This is the pint. Lee Haines is behind the bars in Elkhead. Whistlin’ Dan put him there an’ maybe the girl c’n persuade Dan to bring him out again. If she don’t—then everything the lynchin’ gang does to Haines we’re goin’ to do to you. Git down on your ol’ knees, Cumberland, an’ beg your daughter to save your hide!”

  The head of Kate dropped down.

  “Untie his hands,” she said. “I’ll talk with Dan.”

  “I knew you’d see reason,” grinned Silent.

  “Jest one minute,” said Cumberland. “Kate, is Lee Haines one of Silent’s gang?”

  “He is.”

  “An’ Dan put him behind the bars?”

  “Yes.”

  “If Dan takes him out again the boy’ll be outlawed, Kate.”

  “Cumberland,” broke in Kilduff savagely, “here’s your call to stop thinkin’ about Whistlin’ Dan an’ begin figgerin’ for yourself.”

  “Don’t you see?” said Kate, “it’s your death these cowards mean.”

/>   Cumberland seemed to grow taller, he stood so stiffly erect with his chin high like a soldier.

  “You shan’t make no single step to talk with Dan!”

  “Can’t you understand that it’s you they threaten?” she cried.

  “I understan’ it all,” he said evenly. “I’m too old to have a young man damned for my sake.”

  “Shut him up!” ordered Silent. “The old fool!”

  The heavy hand of Terry Jordan clapped over Joe’s mouth effectually silenced him. He struggled vainly to speak again and Kate turned to Silent to shut out the sight.

  “Tell your man to let him go,” she said, “I will do what you wish.”

  “That’s talkin’ sense,” said Silent. “Come out with me an’ I’ll saddle your hoss. Call the wolf.”

  He opened the door and in response to her whistle Black Bart trotted out and followed them out to the horse shed. There the outlaw quickly saddled Kate’s pony.

  He said: “Whistlin’ Dan is sure headin’ back in this direction because he’s got an idea I’m somewhere near. Bart will find him on the way.”

  Silent was right. That morning Dan had started back towards Gus Morris’s place, for he was sure that the outlaws were camped in that neighbourhood. A little before noon he veered half a mile to the right towards a spring which welled out from a hillside, surrounded by a small grove of willows. Having found it, he drank, and watered Satan, then took off the saddle to ease the stallion, and lay down at a little distance for a ten-minute siesta, one of those half wakeful sleeps the habit of which he had learned from his wolf.

  He was roused from the doze by a tremendous snorting and snarling and found Black Bart playing with Satan. It was their greeting after an absence, and they dashed about among the willows like creatures possessed. Dan brought horse and dog to a motionless stand with a single whistle, and then ran out to the edge of the willows. Down the side of the hill rode Kate at a brisk gallop. In a moment she saw him and called his name, with a welcoming wave of her arm. Now she was off her horse and running to him. He caught her hands and held her for an instant far from him like one striving to draw out the note of happiness into a song. They could not speak.

  At last: “I knew you’d find a way to come.”

  “They let me go, Dan.”