by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER IV
THE SECOND OFFENSE
Bill Howland emerged from the six-by-six office of the F. S. and S. StageCompany and strolled down the street to where his Concord stood. Hehitched up and, after examining the harness, gained his seat, gathered upthe lines and yelled. There was a lurch and a rumble, and Bill turnedthe corner on two wheels to the gratification of sundry stray dogs,whose gratification turned to yelps of surprise and pain as the driverneatly flecked bits of hair from their bodies with his sixteen foot"blacksnake." Twice each week Bill drove his Concord around the samecorner on the same two wheels and flecked bits of hair from stray dogswith the same whip. He would have been deeply grieved if the supply of newstray dogs gave out, for no dogs were ever known to get close enoughto be skinned the second time; once was enough, and those which had feltthe sting of Bill's leather were content to stand across the street andcreate the necessary excitement to urge the new arrivals forward. Thelocal wit is reported as saying: "Dogs may come and dogs may go, but Billgoes on forever," which saying pleased Bill greatly.
As he threw the mail bag on the seat the sheriff came up and watched him,his eyes a-twinkle with humor.
"Well, Sheriff, how's the boy?" genially asked Bill, who could talk allday on anything and two days on nothing without fatigue.
"All right, Bill, thank you," the sheriff replied. "I hope you are ableto take something more than liquid nourishment," he added.
"Oh, you trust me for that, Sheriff. When my appetite gives out I'll beready to plant. I see your ear is some smaller. Blamed funny how they doswell sometimes," remarked the driver, loosening his collar.
The sheriff knew what that action meant and hurried to break the threadof the conversation.
"New wheel?" he asked, eying what he knew to be old.
"Nope, painted, that's all," the driver replied, grinning. "But sheshore does look new, don't she? You see, Dick put in two new spokesyesterday, and when I saw 'em I says, says I, 'Dick, that new wheel don'tlook good thataway,' says I. 'It'll look like a limp, them new spokescoming 'round all alone like,' says I. So we paints it, but we didn'thave time to paint the others, but they won't make much difference,anyhow. Funny how a little paint will change things, now ain't it? Why, Ican remember when-----"
"Much mail nowadays?" interposed the sheriff calmly.
"Nope. Folks out here ain't a-helpin' Uncle Sam much. Postmaster says heonly sold ten stamps this week. What he wants, as I told him, is women.Then everybody'll be sendin' letters and presents and things. Now, I knowswhat I'm talking about, because-----"
"The Apaches are out," jabbed the sheriff, hopefully.
"Yes, I heard that you had a soiree with them. But they won't get sofar north as this. No, siree, they won't. They knows too much, Apachesdo. Ain't they smart cusses, though? Now, there's old Geronimo--beenraising the devil for years. The cavalry goes out for him regular, andshore thinks he's caught, but he ain't. When he's found he's home smokinghis pipe and counting his wives, which are shore numerous, they say. Now,I've got a bully scheme for getting him, Sheriff----"
"Hey, you," came from the office. "Do you reckon that train is going totie up and wait for you, hey? Do you think you are so d----d importantthat they won't pull out unless you're on hand? Why in h--l don't you quitchinning and get started?"
"Oh, you choke up!" cried Bill, clambering up to his seat. "Who's runningthis, anyhow!" he grumbled under his breath. Then he took up the reinsand carefully sorted them, after which he looked down at Shields, whoseface wore a smile of amusement.
"Bill Howland ain't none a-scared because a lot of calamity howlers get ahunch. Not on your life! I've reached the high C of rollicking progresstoo many times to be airy scairt at rumors. Show me the feather-dustersin war paint, and then I'll take some stock in raids. You get up a beton me Sheriff, make a little easy money. Back Bill Howland to be righthere in seventy-two hours, right side up and smiling, and you'll win. Youjust bet you'll----"
"Well, you won't get here in a year unless you starts, you pest! ForGod's sake get a-going and give the sheriff a rest!" came explosivelyfrom the office, accompanied by a sound as if a chair had dropped to itsfour legs. A tall, angular man stood in the doorway and shook his fist atthe huge cloud of dust which rolled down the street, muttering savagely.Bill Howland had started on his eighty-mile trip to Sagetown.
"Damnedest talker on two laigs," asserted the clerk. "He'll drive me locosome day with his eternal jabber, jabber. Why do you waste time withhim? Tell him to close his yap and go to h--l. Beat him over the head,anything to shut him up!"
Shields smiled: "Oh, he can't help it. He don't do anybody any harm."
The clerk shook his head in doubt and started to return to his chair, andthen stopped.
"I hear you expect some women out purty soon," he suggested.
"Yes. Sisters and a friend," Shields replied shortly.
"Ain't you a little leary about letting 'em come out here while theApaches are out?"
"Not very much--I'll be on hand when they arrive," the sheriff assured him.
"How soon are they due to land?"
"Next trip if nothing hinders them."
"Jim Hawes is comin' out next trip," volunteered the clerk.
"Good," responded the sheriff, turning to go. "Every gun counts, and Jimis a good man."
"Say," the agent was lonesome, "I heard down at the Oasis last night thatThe Orphant was seen out near the Cross Bar-8 yesterday. He ought to getshot, d----n him! But that's a purty big contract, I reckon. They say hecan shoot like the very devil."
"They're right, he can," Shields replied. "Everybody knows that."
"Charley seems to be in a hurry," remarked the agent, looking down thestreet at a cowboy, a friend of the sheriff, who was coming at a deadgallop. The sheriff looked and Charley waved his arm. As he came withinhailing distance he shouted:
"The Orphan killed Jimmy Ford this morning on Twenty Mile Trail! Hispardner got away by shootin' The Orphan's horse and taking to the trailthrough Little Arroyo. But he's shot, just the same, 'though not bad. Therest of the Cross Bar-8 outfit are going out for him; they've been out,but they can't follow his trail."
"Hell!" cried the sheriff, running toward his corral. "Wait!" he shoutedover his shoulder as he turned the corner. In less than five minutes hewas back again, and on his best horse, and following the impatient cowboy,swung down the street at a gallop in the direction of Twenty Mile Trail.
As they left the town behind and swung through the arroyo leading to theLimping Water, through which the stage route lay, Charley began to speakagain:
"Jimmy and Pete Carson were taking a rest in the shade of the chaparraland playin' old sledge, when they looked up and saw The Orphan lookingdown at them. They're rather easy-going, and so they asked him to take ahand. He said he would, and got off his cayuse and sat down with them.Jimmy started a new deal, but The Orphan objected to old sledge andwanted poker, at the same time throwing a bag of dust down in front ofhim. Jimmy looked at Pete, who nodded, and put his wealth in front ofhim. Well, they played along for a while, and The Orphan began to havegreat luck. When he had won five straight jack pots it was more thanJimmy could stand, him being young and hasty. He saw his new Cheyennesaddle, what he was going to buy, getting further away all the time, andhe yelled 'Cheat!' grabbing for his gun, what was plumb crazy for him todo.
"The Orphan fired from his hip quick as a wink, and Jimmy fell back justas Pete drew. The Orphan swung on him and ordered him to drop his gun,which same Pete did, being sick at the stomach at Jimmy's passing. ThenThe Orphan told him to take his dirty money and his cheap life and go backto his mamma. Pete didn't stop none to argue, but mounted and rode away.But the fool wasn't satisfied at having a whole skin after a run-inwith The Orphan, and when he got off about four hundred yards and righton the edge of Little Arroyo, where he could get cover in one jump,he up and let drive, killing The Orphan's horse. Pete got two holes inhis shoulder before he could get out of sight, and he remembered thathis
shot had hardly left his gun before he had 'em, too. Pete says hewonders how in h--l The Orphan could shoot twice so quick, when hisgun's a Sharp's single shot."
Shields was pleased with the knowledge that it was not a plain murderthis time, and fell to wondering if the other killings in which TheOrphan had figured had not in a measure been justified. Hearsay cried"Murderer," but his own personal experience denied the term. Did notThe Orphan know that Shields was after him, and that the sheriff was noman to be taken lightly when he had shown mercy near the big bowlder? Theoutlaw must be fair and square, reasoned the sheriff, else he would nothave looked for those qualities in another, and least of all in anenemy. The outlaw had given him plenty of chances to kill and had thoughtnothing of it, time and time again turning his back without hesitation.True, The Orphan had covered him when his hand had streaked for histobacco; but the sheriff would have done the same, because the movementwas decidedly hostile, and he had been fortunate in not having paiddearly for his rash action. The Orphan had taken a chance when herefrained from pulling the trigger.
Charley continued: "Jimmy's outfit swear they'll have a lynchin' bee tosquare things for the Kid. They are plumb crazy about it. Jimmy was awhole lot liked by them, and the foreman is going to give them a weekoff with no questions asked. They are getting things ready now."
The sheriff turned to his companion, his hazel eyes aflame with angerat this threat of lynching when he had given plain warning that suchlawlessness would not for one minute be tolerated by him.
"We'll call on the Cross Bar-8 first, Charley, and find out when thislynching bee is due to come off," he said, turning toward the northwest.Charley looked surprised at the sudden change in the plans, but followedwithout comment, secretly glad that trouble was in store for the ranch hehad no use for.
After an hour of fast riding they rode up to the corral of the CrossBar-8, and Shields, seeing a cowboy busily engaged in cleaning a rifle,asked for Sneed, at the same time making a mental note of the preparationswhich were going on about him.
The foreman, as if in answer to the sheriff's words, walked into sightaround the corral wall and stepped forward eagerly when he saw who thecaller was.
"I see that you know all about it, Sheriff," he began, hastily. "I'vejust told the boys that they can go out for him," he continued. "They'regetting ready now, and will soon be on his trail."
"Yes?" coldly inquired the sheriff.
"They'll get him if you don't," assured the foreman, who had about as muchtact as a mule.
"I'll shoot the first man who tries it," the sheriff said, as he fleckeda bit of dust from his arm.
"What!" cried Sneed in astonishment. "By God, Sheriff, that's a d----dhard assertion to make!"
"And I hold _you_ responsible," continued the sheriff, leaning forwardas if to give weight to his words.
The cowboy stopped cleaning his rifle and stood up, covering the sheriff,a sneer on his face and anger in his eyes.
"If you're a-scared, we ain't, by God!" he cried. "The Orphan has gotaway too many times already, and here is where he gets stopped for good!When we gets through with him he won't shoot no more friends of ourn,nor nobody else's!"
Shields looked him squarely in the eyes: "If you don't drop that gun I'lldrop you, Bucknell," he said pleasantly, and his eyes proclaimed that hemeant what he said.
Sneed sprang forward and knocked the gun aside; "You d----n fool!" hecried. "You ornery, silly fool! Get back to the bunk house or I'll makeyou wish you had never seen that gun! Go on, get the h--l out of herebefore you join Jimmy!"
Then the foreman turned to Shields, feeling that he had lost much throughthe rashness of his man.
"Don't pay any attention to that crazy yearling, Sheriff," he saidearnestly. "He's only feeling his oats. But we only wanted to round himup," he continued on the main topic. "We meant to turn him over to youafter we'd got him. He's a blasted, thieving, murdering dog, that's whathe is, and he oughtn't get away this time!"
"You keep out of this, and keep your men out of it, too," respondedShields, turning away. "I mean what I say. Jimmy started the mess andgot the worst of it. I'll get The Orphan, or nobody will. As long as I'msheriff of this county I'll take care of my job without any lynchingparties. Come on, Charley."
"Deputize some of my boys, Sheriff!" he begged. "Let 'em think they'redoing something. The Orphan is a bad man to go after alone. The boys areso mad that they'll get him if they have to ride through hell after him.Swear them in and let them get him lawfully."
"Yes?" retorted Shields cynically. "And have to shoot them to keep themfrom shooting him?"
"By God, Sheriff," cried Sneed, losing control of his temper, "this isour fight, and we're going to see it through! We'll get that cur, sheriffor no sheriff, and when we do, he'll stretch rope! And anybody who triesto stop us will get hurt! I ain't making any threats, Sheriff; onlytelling plain facts, that's all."
"Then I'll be a wreck," responded Shields, still smiling. "For I'll stopit, even if I have to shoot you first, which are also plain facts."
Sneed's men had been coming up while they talked and were freely voicingtheir opinions of sheriffs. Sneed stepped close to the peace officer andlaughed, his face flushed with foolish elation at his strength.
"Do you see 'em?" he asked, ironically, indicating his men by a sweep ofhis arm. "Do you think you could shoot me?"
The reply was instantaneous. The last word had hardly left his lips beforehe peered blankly into the cold, unreasoning muzzle of a Colt, and thesheriff's voice softly laughed up above him. The cowboys stood as ifturned to stone, not daring to risk their foreman's life by a move, forthey did not understand the sheriff's methods of arguments, never havingbecome thoroughly acquainted with him.
"You know me better now, Sneed," Shields remarked quietly as he slippedhis Colt into its holster. "I'm running the law end of the game and I'llkeep right on running it as I d----d please while I'm called sheriff,understand?"
Sneed was a brave man, and he thoroughly appreciated the clean-cutcourage which had directed the sheriff's act, and he knew, then, thatShields would keep his word. He involuntarily stepped back and intentlyregarded the face above him, seeing a not unpleasant countenance, althoughit was tanned by the suns and beaten by the weather of fifty years. Thehazel eyes twinkled and the thin lips twitched in that quiet humor forwhich the man was famed; yet underlying the humor was stern, unyieldingdetermination.
"You're shore nervy, Sheriff," at length remarked the foreman. "The boysare loco, but I'll try to hold them."
"You'll hold them, or bury them," responded the sheriff, and turning tohis companion he said: "Now I'm with you, Charley. So long, Sneed," hepleasantly called over his shoulder as if there had been no unpleasantdisagreement.
"So long, Sheriff," replied the foreman, looking after the departing pairand hardly free from his astonishment. Then he turned to his men: "Youheard what he said, and you saw what he did. You keep out of this, orI'll make you d----d sorry, if he don't. If The Orphan comes your way,all right and good. But you let his trail religiously alone, do you hear?"