CHAPTER VI
THE RIM OF THE BENCH
Out on the flat the Texan was riding "straight up" amid a whirl ofwhite dust.
"Fan him, Tex!"
"Stay with him!"
The cries of the cowboys cut high above the chorus of yelling applauseas the furious outlaw tried every known trick to unseat the rider.High in the air he bucked, swapping ends like a flash, and landing withall four feet "on a dollar," his legs stiff as jack-pine posts. TheTexan rode with one hand gripping the hackamore rope and the other hisquirt which stung and bit into the frenzied animal's shoulders eachtime he hit the ground. In a perfect storm of fury the horse plunged,twisted, sunfished, and bucked to free himself of the rider who swayedeasily in the saddle and raked him flank and sides with his hugerowelled spurs.
"Stay a long time!"
"Scratch him, Tex!" yelled the delighted cowpunchers.
Suddenly the yells of appreciation gave place to gasps even from theinitiated, as the rage-crazed animal leaped high into the air andthrowing himself backward, crashed to the ground squarely upon hisback. As the dust cloud lifted the Texan stood beside him, one footstill in the stirrup, slashing right and left across the strugglingbrute's ears with his braided quirt. The outlaw leaped to his feetwith the cowboy in the saddle and the crowd went wild. Then with theenthusiasm at its height, the man jerked at his hackamore knot, and thenext moment the horse's head was free and the rider rode "on hisbalance" without the sustaining grip on the hackamore rope to hold himfirm in his saddle. The sudden loosening of the rawhide thongs gavethe outlaw new life. He sunk his head and redoubled his efforts, aswith quirt in one hand and hackamore in the other the cowboy lashed hisshoulders while his spurs raked the animal to a bloody foam. Slowerand slower the outlaw fought, pausing now and then to scream shrilly aswith bared teeth and blazing eyes he turned this way and that, suckingthe air in great blasts through his blood-dripping nostrils.
At last he was done. Conquered. For a moment he stood trembling inevery muscle, and as he sank slowly to his knees, the Texan steppedsmiling from the saddle.
"Sometime, Slim," he grinned as he reached for his tobacco and papers,"if you-all can get holt of a horse that ain't plumb gentle, I'll showyou a real ride."
All about was the confusion attendant to the breaking-up of the crowd.Men yelled at horses as they hitched them to the wagons. Pedestrians,hurrying with their tickets toward the saloons, dodged from under thefeet of cowboys' horses, and the flat became a tangle of wagons withshouting drivers.
Alice Marcum stood upon the edge of the lumber-pile with the windwhipping her skirts about her silk stockings as the Texan, saddle overhis arm, glanced up and waved, a gauntleted hand. The girl returnedthe greeting with a cold-eyed stare and once more found herself growingfuriously angry. For the man's lips twisted into their cynical smileas his eyes rested for a moment upon her own, shifted, lingered withundisguised approval upon her silk stockings, and with devilishboldness, returned to her own again. Suddenly his words flashedthrough her brain. "I always get what I go after--sometimes." Sherecalled the consummate skill with which he had conquered the renegadesteer and the outlaw broncho--mastered them completely, and yet alwaysin an off-hand manner as though the thing amused him. Never for amoment had he seemed to exert himself--never to be conscious of effort.Despite herself the girl shuddered nervously, and ignoring Endicott'sproffer of assistance, scrambled to the ground and hastened toward hercoach.
A young lady who possessed in a high degree a very wholesome love ofadventure, Alice Marcum coupled with it a very unwholesome habit ofacting on impulse. As unamenable to reason as she was impervious toargument, those who would remonstrate with her invariably foundthemselves worsted by the simple and easy process of turning theirweapons of attack into barriers of defence. Thus when, an hour later,Winthrop Adams Endicott found her seated alone at a little table in thedining-car he was agreeably surprised when she greeted him with a smileand motioned him into the chair opposite.
"For goodness' sake, Winthrop, sit down and talk to me. There'snothing so stupid as dining alone--and especially when you want to talkto somebody." As Endicott seated himself, she rattled on: "I wanted togo to that preposterous supper they are going to 'dish up' at thehotel, but when I found they were going to separate the 'ladies andgents' and feed them in relays, I somehow lost the urge. The men, mostof them, are interesting--but the women are deadly. I know just whatit would be--caught snatches of it from the wagons during thelulls--preserves, and babies, and what Harry's ma died of. The mencarry an atmosphere of unrestraint--of freshness----"
Endicott interrupted her with a nod: "Yes," he observed, dryly, "Ibelieve that is the term----"
"Don't be guilty of a pun, Winthrop. At least, not a slangy one. It'squite unsuited to your style of beauty. But, really, wasn't it alldelightful? Did you ever see such riding, and shooting, and lassoing?"
"No. But I have never lived in a country where it is done. I havealways understood that cowboys were proficient along those lines, butwhy shouldn't they be? It's their business----"
"There you go--reducing everything to terms of business! Can't you seethe romance of it--what it stands for? The wild free life of theplains, the daily battling with the elements, and the mastery of nerveand skill over blind brute force and fury! I love it! And tonight I'mgoing to a real cowboy dance."
"Alice!" The word carried a note of grave disapproval. "Surely youwere not serious about attending that orgy!"
The girl stared at him in surprise. "Serious! Of course I'm serious!When will I ever get another chance to attend a cowboy dance--and witha real cowboy, too?"
"The whole thing is preposterous! Perfectly absurd! If you are boundto attend that affair I will take you there, and we can look on and----"
"I don't want to look on. I want to dance--to be in it all. It willbe an experience I'll never forget."
The man nodded: "And one you may never cease to regret. What do youknow of that man? Of his character; of his antecedents? He may be theveriest desperado for all you know."
The girl clapped her hands in mock delight: "Oh, wouldn't that begrand! I hadn't thought of that. To attend a dance with just a plaincowboy doesn't fall to every girl's lot, but one who is a cowboy and adesperado, too!" She rolled her eyes to express the seventh heavendomof delight.
Endicott ignored the mockery. "I am sure neither your mother nor yourfather----"
"No, neither of them would approve, of course. But really, Winthrop,I'm way past the short petticoat stage--though the way they're makingthem now nobody would guess it. I know it's improper andunconventional and that it isn't done east of the Mississippi nor westof the Rocky Mountains. But when in Rome do as the roamers do, assomeone has said. And as for Mr. Purdy," she paused and lookedEndicott squarely in the eyes. "Do you know why he didn't shoot thatdisgusting Tex when he insulted him?"
Endicott nodded. "Yes," he answered. "Because he was afraid to."
Colour suffused the girl's face and she arose abruptly from the table."At least," she said haughtily, "you and Wolf River are thoroughly inaccord on _that_ point."
As the man watched her disappear through the doorway he became awarethat the fat woman who had sought refuge under the coach was staring athim through her lorgnette from her seat across the aisle.
"Young man, I believe you insulted that girl!" she wheezed indignantly.
"You should be a detective, madam. Not even a great one could befarther from the truth," he replied dryly, and rising, passed into thesmoking compartment of his Pullman where he consumed innumerablecigarettes as he stared out into the gathering night.
Seated in her own section of the same Pullman, Alice Marcum sat andwatched the twilight deepen and the lights of the little town twinkleone by one from the windows. Alone in the darkening coach the girl wasnot nearly so sure she was going to enjoy her forthcoming adventure.Loud shouts, accompanied by hilarious laughter and an occasional pistolshot, floated acr
oss the flat. She pressed her lips tighter andheartily wished that she had declined Purdy's invitation. It was nottoo late, yet. She could plead a headache, or a slight indisposition.She knew perfectly well that Endicott had been right and she wrong but,with the thought, the very feminine perversity of her strengthened herdetermination to see the adventure through.
"Men are such fools!" she muttered angrily. "I'll only stay a littlewhile, of course, but I'm going to that dance if it is the last thing Iever do--just to show him that--that--" her words trailed into silencewithout expressing just what it was she intended to show him.
As the minutes passed the girl's eyes glowed with a spark of hope."Maybe," she muttered, "maybe Mr. Purdy has forgotten, or--" thesentence broke off shortly. Across the flat a rider was approachingand beside him trotted a lead-horse upon whose back was an emptysaddle. For just an instant she hesitated, then rose from her seat andwalked boldly to the door of the coach.
"Good evenin', mom," the cowboy smiled as he dismounted to assist herfrom the steps of the coach.
"Good evening," returned the girl. "But, you needn't to have gone tothe trouble of bringing a horse just to ride that little way."
"'Twasn't no trouble, mom, an' he's woman broke. I figured yehwouldn't have no ridin' outfit along so I loant a sideways saddle offena friend of mine which his gal usta use before she learnt to ridestraddle. The horse is hern, too, an' gentle as a dog. Here I'll giveyeh a h'ist." The lead-horse nickered softly, and reaching up, thegirl stroked his velvet nose.
"He's woman broke," repeated the cowboy, and as Alice looked up hereyes strayed past him to the window of the coach where they metEndicott's steady gaze.
The next moment Purdy was lifting her into the saddle, and without abackward glance the two rode out across the flat.
The girl was a devoted horsewoman and with the feel of the horse underher, her spirits revived and she drew in a long breath of the fragrantnight. There was a living tang to the air, soft with the balm of June,and as they rode side by side the cowboy pointed toward the east wherethe sharp edge of the bench cut the rim of the rising moon. Alicegasped at the beauty of it. The horses stopped and the two watched insilence until the great red disc rose clear of the clean-cut sky-line.
About the wreck torches flared and the night was torn by the clang andrattle of gears as the great crane swung a boxcar to the side. Thesingle street was filled with people--women and men from the wagons,and cowboys who dashed past on their horses or clumped along the woodensidewalk with a musical jangle of spurs.
The dance-hall was a blaze of light toward which the people flockedlike moths to a candle flame. As they pushed the horses past, the girlglanced in. Framed in the doorway stood a man whose eyes met herssquarely--eyes that, in the lamplight seemed to smile cynically as theystrayed past her and rested for a moment upon her companion, even asthe thin lips were drawn downward at their corners in a sardonic grin.
Unconsciously she brought her quirt down sharply, and her horse, gladof the chance to stretch his legs after several days in the stall,bounded forward and taking the bit in his teeth shot past the littlecluster of stores and saloons, past the straggling row of houses andheaded out on the trail that wound in and out among the cottonwoodclumps of the valley. At first, the girl tried vainly to check thepace, but as the animal settled to a steady run a spirit of wildexhilaration took possession of her--the feel of the horse boundingbeneath her, the muffled thud of his hoofs in the soft sand of thetrail, the alternating patches of moonlight and shadow, and the keentang of the night air--all seemed calling her, urging her on.
At the point where the trail rose abruptly in its ascent to the bench,the horse slackened his pace and she brought him to a stand, and forthe first time since she left the town, realized she was not alone.The realization gave her a momentary start, as Purdy reined in closebeside her; but a glance into the man's face reassured her.
"Oh, isn't it just grand! I feel as if I could ride on, and on, andon."
The man nodded and pointed upward where the surface of the bench cutthe sky-line sharply.
"Yes, mom," he answered respectfully. "If yeh'd admire to, we c'nfoller the trail to the top an' ride a ways along the rim of the bench.If you like scenes, that ort to be worth while lookin' at. The dancewon't git a-goin' good fer an hour yet 'til the folks gits het up toit."
For a moment Alice hesitated. The romance of the night was upon her.Every nerve tingled, with the feel of the wild. Her glance wanderedfrom the rim of the bench to the cowboy, a picturesque figure as he sateasily in his saddle, a figure toned by the soft touch of the moonlightto an intrinsic symbolism of vast open spaces.
Something warned her to go back, but--what harm could there be in justriding to the top? Only for a moment--a moment in which she couldfeast her eyes upon the widespread panorama of moonlit wonder--andthen, they would be in the little town again before the dance was infull swing. In her mind's eye she saw Endicott's disapproving frown,and with a tightening of the lips she started her horse up the hill andthe cowboy drew in beside her, the soft brim of his Stetson concealingthe glance of triumph that flashed from his eyes.
The trail slanted upward through a narrow coulee that reached the benchlevel a half-mile back from the valley. As the two came out into theopen the girl once more reined her horse to a standstill. Before her,far away across the moonlit plain the Bear Paws loomed in mysteriousgrandeur. The clean-cut outline of Miles Butte, standing apart fromthe main range, might have been an Egyptian pyramid rising abruptlyfrom the desert. From the very centre of the sea of peaks thesnow-capped summit of Big Baldy towered high above Tiger Ridge, and SawTooth projected its serried crown until it seemed to merge into theLittle Rockies which rose indistinct out of the dim beyond.
The cowboy turned abruptly from the trail and the two headed theirhorses for the valley rim, the animals picking their way through thepatches of prickly pears and clumps of low sage whose fragrant aromarose as a delicate incense to the nostrils of the girl.
Upon the very brink of the valley they halted, and in awed silenceAlice sat drinking in the exquisite beauty of the scene.
Before her as far as the eye could see spread the broad reach of theMilk River Valley, its obfusk depths relieved here and there by brightpatches of moonlight, while down the centre, twisting in and out amongthe dark clumps of cottonwoods, the river wound like a ribbon ofgleaming silver. At widely scattered intervals the tiny lights ofranch houses glowed dull yellow in the distance, and almost at her feetthe clustering lights of the town shone from the open windows and doorsof buildings which stood out distinctly in the moonlight, like avillage in miniature. Faint sounds, scarcely audible in the stillnessof the night floated upward--the thin whine of fiddles, a shot now andthen from the pistol of an exuberant cowboy sounding tiny and far awaylike the report of a boy's pop-gun.
The torches of the wrecking crew flickered feebly and the drone oftheir hoisting gears scarce broke the spell of the silence.
Minutes passed as the girl's eyes feasted upon the details of the scene.
"Oh, isn't it wonderful!" she breathed, and then in swift alarm,glanced suddenly into the man's face. Unnoticed he had edged his horseclose so that his leg brushed hers in the saddle. The hat brim did notconceal the eyes now, that stared boldly into her face and in suddenterror the girl attempted to whirl her horse toward the trail. But theman's arm shot out and encircled her waist and his hot breath was uponher cheek. With all the strength of her arm she swung her quirt, butPurdy held her close; the blow served only to frighten the horses whichleaped apart, and the girl felt herself dragged from the saddle.
In the smoking compartment of the Pullman, Endicott finished acigarette as he watched the girl ride toward the town in company withPurdy.
"She's a--a headstrong _little fool_!" he growled under his breath. Hestraightened out his legs and stared gloomily at the brass cuspidor."Well, I'm through. I vowed once before I'd never have anything moreto do with her--and yet--" He
hurled the cigarette at the cuspidor andtook a turn up and down the cramped quarters of the little room. Thenhe stalked to his seat, met the fat lady's outraged stare with anungentlemanly scowl, procured his hat, and stamped off across the flatin the direction of the dance-hall. As he entered the room a feelingof repugnance came over him. The floor was filled with noisy dancers,and upon a low platform at the opposite end of the room threeshirt-sleeved, collarless fiddlers sawed away at their instruments, asthey marked time with boots and bodies, pausing at intervals to moptheir sweat-glistening faces, or to swig from a bottle proffered by apassing dancer. Rows of onlookers of both sexes crowded the walls andEndicott's glance travelled from face to face in a vain search for thegirl.
A little apart from the others the Texan leaned against the wall. Thesmoke from a limp cigarette which dangled from the corner of his lipscurled upward, and through the haze of it Endicott saw that the man wassmiling unpleasantly. Their eyes met and Endicott turned toward thedoor in hope of finding the girl among the crowd that thronged thestreet.
Hardly had he reached the sidewalk when he felt a hand upon his arm,and turned to stare in surprise into the dark features of ahalf-breed,--the same, he remembered, who had helped the Texan tosaddle the outlaw. With a swift motion of the head the man signalledhim to follow, and turned abruptly into the deep shadow of an alleythat led along the side of the livery bam. Something in thehalf-breed's manner caused Endicott to obey without hesitation and amoment later the man turned and faced him.
"You hont you 'oman?" Endicott nodded impatiently and the half-breedcontinued: "She gon' ridin' wit Purdy." He pointed toward the windingtrail. "Mebbe-so you hur' oop, you ketch." Without waiting for areply the man slipped the revolver from his holster and pressed it intothe astonished Endicott's hand, and catching him by the sleeve, hurriedhim to the rear of the stable where, tied to the fence of the corral,two horses stood saddled. Loosing one, the man passed him the bridlereins. "Dat hoss, she damn good hoss. Mebbe-so you ride lak' hell youcom' long in tam'. Dat Purdy, she not t'ink you got de gun, mebbe-soyou git chance to kill um good." As the full significance of the man'swords dawned upon him Endicott leaped into the saddle and, dashing fromthe alley, headed at full speed out upon the winding, sandy trail. Onand on he sped, flashing in and out among the clumps of cottonwood. Atthe rise of the trail he halted suddenly to peer ahead and listen. Afull minute he stood while in his ears sounded only the low hum ofmosquitoes and the far-off grind of derrick wheels.
He glanced upward and for a moment his heart stood still. Far above,on the rim of the bench, silhouetted clearly against the moonlight skywere two figures on horseback. Even as he looked the figures blendedtogether--there was a swift commotion, a riderless horse dashed fromview, and the next moment the sky-line showed only the rim of the bench.
The moon turned blood-red. And with a curse that sounded in his earslike the snarl of a beast, Winthrop Adams Endicott tightened his gripupon the revolver and headed the horse up the steep ascent.
The feel of his horse labouring up the trail held nothing ofexhilaration for Endicott. He had galloped out of Wolf River with thewords of the half-breed ringing in his ears: "Mebbe-so you ride lak'hell you com' long in tam'!" But, would he "com' long in tam'"? Therehad been something of sinister portent in that swift merging togetherof the two figures upon the sky-line, and in the flash-like glimpse ofthe riderless horse. Frantically he dug his spurless heels into thelabouring sides of his mount.
"Mebbe-so you kill um good," the man had said at parting, and asEndicott rode he knew that he would kill, and for him the knowledgeheld nothing of repugnance--only a wild fierce joy. He looked at therevolver in his hand. Never before had the hand held a lethal weapon,yet no slightest doubt as to his ability to use it entered his brain.Above him, somewhere upon the plain beyond the bench rim, the woman heloved was at the mercy of a man whom Endicott instinctively knew wouldstop at nothing to gain an end. The thought that the man he intendedto kill was armed and that he was a dead shot never entered his head,nor did he remember that the woman had mocked and ignored him, andagainst his advice had wilfully placed herself in the man's power. Shehad harried and exasperated him beyond measure--and yet he loved her.
The trail grew suddenly lighter. The walls of the coulee flattenedinto a wide expanse of open. Mountains loomed in the distance and inthe white moonlight a riderless horse ceased snipping grass, raised hishead, and with ears cocked forward, stared at him. In a fever ofsuspense Endicott gazed about him, straining his eyes to penetrate thehalf-light, but the plain stretched endlessly away, and upon itssurface was no living, moving thing.
Suddenly his horse pricked his ears and sniffed. Out of a near-bydepression that did not show in the moonlight another horse appeared.It, too, was riderless, and the next instant, from the same directionsounded a low, muffled cry and, leaping from his saddle, he dashedtoward the spot. The sage grew higher in the depression which was thehead of a branch of the coulee by means of which the trail gained thebench, and as he plunged in, the head and shoulders of a man appearedabove a bush. Endicott was very close when the man pushed somethingfiercely from him, and the body of a woman crashed heavily into thesage. Levelling the gun, he fired. The shot rang loud, and upon theedge of the depression a horse snorted nervously. The man pitchedforward and lay sprawled grotesquely upon the ground and Endicott sawthat his extended hand grasped a revolver.
Dully he stared at the thing on the ground at his feet. There was amovement in the scrub and Alice Marcum stood beside him. He glancedinto her face. And as her eyes strayed from the sprawling figure tomeet his, Endicott read in their depths that which caused his heart torace madly. She stepped toward him and suddenly both paused to listen.The girl's face turned chalk-white in the moonlight. From thedirection of the coulee came the sound of horses' hoofs pounding thetrail!
The Texan Page 7