by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER III
THE SHERIFF FINDS THE ORPHAN
The day dragged wearily along for the man in the chaparral, and when thesun showed that it was still two hours from the meridian he leaped tohis feet, rifle in hand, and peered intently to the west, where hehad seen a fast-riding horseman flit between two chaparrals which stoodfar down on the western end of the Cimarron Trail. Without pausing, hemade his way out of cover and ran rapidly along the edge of the thicketuntil he had gained its northwestern extremity, where he plunged intoit, unmindful of the cuts and slashes from the interlocked thorns.Using the rifle as a club, he hammered and pushed until he was screenedfrom the view of anyone passing along the trail, but where he couldsee all who approached. As he turned and faced the west he saw thehorseman suddenly emerge from the shelter of the last chaparral in hiscourse and ride straight for the intersection of the trails, his horseflattened to the earth by the speed it was making. Waiting until therider was within fifty yards of him, he pushed his way out to the trail,the rifle leaping to his shoulder as he stepped into the open. Thenewcomer was looking back at half a dozen Apaches who had burst into viewby the chaparral he had just quitted, and when he turned he was stoppedby a hail and the sight of an unwavering rifle held by the man on foot.
"A truce!" shouted The Orphan from behind the sights, having an idea andwishing to share it.
"Hell, yes!" cried the astonished sheriff in reply, slowing down andmechanically following the already running outlaw to the place wherethe latter had spent the last few hours.
By keeping close to the edge of the chaparral, which receded from thetrail, The Orphan had not been seen by the Apaches, and as he turned intohis hiding place a yell reached his ears. His trophies on the bowlderwere not to be unmourned.
As he wormed his way into the thicket, closely followed by the sheriff,he tersely explained the situation, and Shields, feeling somewhat underobligation to the man who had refrained from killing him, nodded andsmiled in good nature. The sheriff thought it was a fine joke andenthusiastically slapped his enemy on the back to show his appreciation,for the time forgetting that they very probably would try to kill eachother later on, after the Apaches had been taken care of.
As they reached a point which gave them a clear view of the bowlder, TheOrphan kicked his companion on the shin, pointing to the Apaches groupedaround their dead.
"It's a little over three hundred, Sheriff," he said. "You shoot first andI'll follow you, so they'll think you shot twice--there's no use lettingthem think that there's two of us, that is, not yet."
"Good idea," replied the sheriff, nodding and throwing his rifle tohis shoulder. "Right end for me," he said, calling his shot so as to besure that the same brave would not receive all the attention. As he firedhis companion covered the second warrior, using one of his capturedWinchesters, and a second later the rifle spun flame. Both warriorsdropped and the remaining four hastily postponed their mourning andtumbled helter skelter behind the bowlder, the sheriff's second shotbecoming a part of the last one to find cover.
"Fine!" exulted the sheriff, delighted at the score. "Best game I evertook a hand in, d-----d if it ain't! We'll have them guessing so hard thatthey'll get brain fever."
"Three shots in as many seconds will make them think that they arefacing a Winchester in the hands of a crack shot," remarked The Orphan,smiling with pleasure at the sheriff's appreciation. "They'll thinkthat if they can back off from the bowlder and keep it between them andyou that they can get out of range in a few hundred yards more. That iswhere I come in again. You sling a little lead to let them know that youhaven't moved a whole lot, but stop in a couple of minutes, while I godown the line a ways. The chaparral sweeps to the north quite a little,and mebby I can drop a slug behind their fort from down there. That'llmake them think you are a jack rabbit at covering ground and will botherthem. If they rush, which they won't after tasting that kind of shooting,you whistle good and loud and we'll make them plumb disgusted. I'll takea Winchester along with me, so they won't have any cause to suspect thatyou are an arsenal. So long."
The sheriff glanced up as his companion departed and was pleased at theoutlaw's command of the situation. He had a good chance to wipe out theman, but that he would not do, for The Orphan trusted him, and Shieldswas one who respected a thing like that.
The outlaw finally stopped about a hundred yards down the trail and lookedout, using his glasses. A brown shoulder showed under the overhanging sideof the bowlder and he smiled, readjusting the sights on the Winchester ashe waited. Soon the shoulder raised from the ground and pushed out fartherinto sight. Then a poll of black hair showed itself and slowly raised.The Orphan took deliberate aim and pulled the trigger. The head dropped tothe sand and the shoulder heaved convulsively once or twice and then layquiet. Leaping up, the marksman hastened back to the side of the sheriff,who did not trouble himself to look up.
"I got him, Sheriff," he said. "Work up to the other end and I'll go backto where I came from. They have got all the fighting they have any use forand will be backing away purty soon now. The range from the point where Iheld you is some closer than it is from here, so you ought to get in ashot when they get far enough back."
"All right," pleasantly responded Shields, vigorously attacking the thornsas he began his journey to the western end of the thicket. "Ouch!" heexclaimed as he felt the pricks. Then he stopped and slowly turned andsaw The Orphan smiling at him, and grinned:
"Say," he began, "why can't I go around?" he asked, indicating with asweep of his arm the southern edge of the chaparral, and intimating thatit would be far more pleasant to skirt the thorns than to buck againstthem. "These d------d thorns ain't no joke!" he added emphatically.
The outlaw's smile enlarged and he glanced quickly at the bowlder to seethat all was as it should be.
"You can go around in one day afoot," he replied. "By that timethey"--pointing to the Apaches--"will have made a day's journey oncayuses. And we simply mustn't let them get the best of us that way."
Shields grinned and turned half-way around again: "It's a whole lot dryout here," he said, "and my canteen is on my cayuse."
"Here, pardner," replied The Orphan, holding out his canteen and watchingthe effect of the familiarity. "Seven swallows is the dose."
The sheriff faced him, took the vessel, counted seven swallows andreturned it.
"I'm some moist now," he remarked, as he returned to the thorns. "It'stoo d------n bad you're bad," he grumbled. "You'd make a blamed goodcow-puncher."
The Orphan, still smiling, placed his hands on hips and watched therapidly disappearing arm of the law.
"He's all right--too bad he'll make me shoot him," he soliloquized,turning toward his post. As he crawled through a particularly badly mattedbit of chaparral he stopped to release himself and laughed outright. "Howin thunder did he get so far west? My trail was as plain as day, too."When he had reached his destination and had settled down to watch thebowlder he laughed again and muttered: "Mebby he figured it out that Iwas doubling back and was laying for me to show up. And that's just theway I would have gone, too. He ain't any fool, all right."
He thought of the sheriff at the far end of the chaparral and of therepeater he carried, and an inexplicable impulse of generosity surgedover him. The sheriff would be pleased to do the rest himself, he thought,and the thought was father to the act. He picked up the Winchester hehad brought with him and fired at the bowlder, only wishing to let theApaches know his position so that they would think the way clear tothe northwest, and so innocently give the sheriff a shot at them asthey retreated. Dropping the Winchester he took up his Sharps, his petrifle, with which he had done wonderful shooting, and arose to oneknee, supporting his left elbow on the other; between the fingers ofhis left hand he held a cartridge in order that no time should be lost inreloading. The range was now five hundred yards, and when The Orphan knewthe exact range he swore with rage if he missed.
His shot had the effect he hoped it would have, for suddenly the
re wasmovement behind the bowlder. A pony's hip showed for an instant andthen leaped from sight as the outlaw reloaded. A cloud of dust arose tothe northwest of and behind the bowlder, and a series of close reportssounded from the direction of the sheriff. The Orphan leaped to his feetand dashed out on the plain to where his sight would not be obstructedand saw an Apache, who hung down on the far side of his horse, sweepnorthward and gallop along the northern trail. He fired, but the rangewas too great, and the warrior soon dropped from sight over the rangeof hills. As The Orphan made his way toward the bowlder the sheriffemerged from his shelter and pointed to the west. A pony lay on its sideand not far away was the huddled body of its rider.
As they neared each other the outlaw noticed something peculiar aboutthe sheriff's ear, and his look of inquiry was rewarded. "Stung,"remarked Shields, grinning apologetically. "Just as I shot," he added inexplanation of the Apache's escape. "Wonder what my wife'll say?" hemused, nursing the swelling.
The Orphan's eyes opened a trifle at the sheriff's last words, and hethought of the war party he had sent north. His decision was immediate:no married man had any business to run risks, and he was glad that herefrained from shooting on sight.
"Sheriff, you vamoose. Clear out now, while you have the chance. Ride westfor an hour, and then strike north for Ford's Station. That buck that gotaway is due to run into twenty-seven of his friends and relatives that Isent north to meet you. And they won't waste any time in getting back,neither."
Shields felt of his ear and laughed softly. He had a sudden, strong likingfor his humorous, clever enemy, for he recognized qualities which he hadalways held in high esteem. While he had waited in the chaparral for theApaches to break cover he had wondered if the Indians which The Orphanhad sent north had been sent for the purpose of meeting him, and nowhe had the answer. Instead of embittering him against his companion, itincreased his respect for that individual's strategy, and he felt onlyadmiration.
"I saw your reception committee in time to duck," the sheriff said,laughing. "If they kept on going as they were when I saw them they musthave crossed my trail about three hours later. When they hit that itis a safe bet that at least some of them took it up. So if it's all thesame to you, I'll leave both the north and the west alone and take anotherroute home. I have shot up all the war-whoops I care about, so I amwell satisfied."
He suddenly reached down toward his belt, and then looked squarely intoThe Orphan's gun, which rested easily on that person's hip. His handkept on, however, but more slowly and with but two fingers extended,and disappeared into his chap's pocket, from which it slowly and gingerlybrought forth a package of tobacco and some rice paper. The Orphan lookedembarrassed for a second and then laughed softly.
"You're a square man, Sheriff, but I wasn't sure," he said in apology."So long."
"That's all right," cried the sheriff heartily. "I was a big fool to makea play like that!"
The Orphan smiled and turned squarely around and walked away in thedirection of his horse. Shields stared at his back and then rolled acigarette and grinned: "By George!" he ejaculated at the confidencedisplayed by his companion, and he slowly followed.
After they had mounted in silence the sheriff suddenly turned and lookedhis companion squarely in the eyes and received a steady, frank look inreturn.
"What the devil made you ventilate them sheep herders that way?" he asked."And go and drive all of them sheep over the bank?"
The Orphan frowned momentarily, but answered without reserve.
"Those sheep herders reckoned they'd get a reputation!" he answered. "Andthey would have gotten it, too, only I beat them on the draw. As for theidiotic muttons, they went plumb loco at the shooting and pushed eachother over the bank. To hell with the herders--they only got what they wastrying to hand me. But I'm a whole lot sorry about the sheep, although Ican't say I'm dead stuck on range-killers of any kind."
The sheriff reflectively eyed his companion's gun and remembered itscelerity into getting into action, which persuaded him that The Orphanwas telling the truth, and swept aside the last chance for fair warfarebetween the two for the day.
"Yes, it is too bad, all them innocent sheep drowned that way," he slowlyreplied. "But they are shore awful skittish at times. Well, do we part?"he asked, suddenly holding out his hand.
"I reckon we do, Sheriff, and I'm blamed glad to have met you," repliedthe outlaw as he shook hands with no uncertain grip. "Keep away from themApaches, and so long."
"Thanks, I will," responded the arm of the law. "And I'm glad to have metyou, too. So long!"