CHAPTER XVIII
A MURDER AND A KILLING
Loudon and Laguerre did not ride directly to Farewell. The threemonths Loudon had given Blakely would not be up for five days. The twomen spent the intervening time in the country between the Farewelltrail and the Dogsoldier River. Of their quarry they found no trace.
Not at all disheartened, however, they rode into Farewell on themorning of the day set for the meeting. As usual, Bill Lainey wasdozing in front of his hotel. They put their horses in the corral, andawakened Lainey.
"Shake hands with Mr. Laguerre, Bill," said Loudon, "an' tell me whatyuh know."
"Glad to know yuh, Mr. Laguerre," wheezed the fat man. "I only knowone thing, Tom, an' that is, Farewell ain't no place for you. I'veheard how there's a warrant out for yuh."
"Is Block in town?"
"Not just now. He rid out yest'day. But he may be back any time. TheSheriff o' Sunset's here. He's lookin' for Rufe Cutting. Seems Rufe'sbeen jumpin' sideways up north--killed a feller or somethin'. TheSunset Sheriff allows Rufe drifted south in company with Block. Block,he says he never seen Cutting. Looked like a shootin' for a minute,but Block he passed it off, an' left town 'bout a hour later."
"Well, the Sheriff o' Sunset don't want me," observed Loudon, "an' he'sa good fellah, anyway. Guess I'll stick here to-day. Maybe Block'llcome back an' make it amusin'. See anythin' of our friend, Mr. SamBlakely?"
"Sam don't never drift in no more," replied Lainey. "Ain't seen himsince I dunno when. Some o' the boys do now an' then, but even theydon't come like they useter. Why, last Monday, when Rudd an' ShortySimms sifted in, was the first time in three weeks that any o' the 88boys had been in town. Shorty said they was powerful busy at theranch."
"That's good. It's probably the first time they ever was busy. Seeyuh later, Bill. S'long."
"So long."
"I'll bet they was busy them three weeks," said Loudon, as he andLaguerre walked away. "The evidence is beginnin' to show itself, ain'tit?"
"You bet," assented Laguerre, his eyes shining.
Most of the citizens they met regarded Loudon with noncommittal eyes,but a few of the glances were frankly unfriendly. The two men enteredthe Happy Heart Saloon, there being sounds of revelry within.
On a table sat the Sheriff of Sunset County. He was heartilyapplauding the efforts of a perspiring gentleman who was dancing a jig.Loudon perceived that the sheriff, while not precisely drunk, was yetnot sober. His gestures were free and his language freer.
There were at least a score of men in the saloon, and they were allBlock's close friends. They muttered among themselves at Loudon'sentrance. The story of Block's tarring and feathering had lost nothingin transmission.
Loudon and Laguerre made their way to the far end of the bar andordered drinks. With the wall at their backs they were reasonablysecure from treachery. The Sheriff of Sunset nodded to the two menfrom the Bend and continued to shout encouragement to the jiggingcitizen. Finally, the dancer succumbed to exhaustion. The sheriffslid from the table.
"Well, I got to be wrigglin' along," he said. "See yuh later."
"Not yet, Sheriff, not yet," protested a tall man with wolfishfeatures. "Have another drink first. Just one. Step up, gents, stepup. Name yore poison."
"No, not another one," said the sheriff, but his tone lacked conviction.
He had another, two in fact. Again he started for the door. But thewolf-faced man barred the way.
"Sheriff," he wheedled, "what yuh say to a little game? Just onelittle game. Only one. Yuh can't be in such a all-fired hurry yuhcan't stop for just one."
"I got to get Rufe Cutting," said the sheriff. "I ain't got no timefor poker."
"Now, looky here, Sheriff," coaxed the tempter, "yuh'll stand just asmuch show o' gettin' Rufe right here in Farewell as yuh will anywhereelse. What's the use o' ridin' the range an' workin' yoreself todeath, when yuh can stay here cool and comf'table?"
"Aw, shut up! I'm a-goin'."
"Well, o' course, if yo're broke----"
"I ain't broke. What do----"
"No offence, Sheriff. No harm meant. None whatever."
"I'll play yuh one game an' that's all. C'mon."
The sheriff played more than one game, for he won the first. Hecontinued to win. He thought no more of Rufe Cutting. And he sat withhis back toward the doorway. Which position is the most eminentlyunsafe of any that an officer of the law may assume. Once, during thattime, Laguerre suggested to Loudon that they go elsewhere. But Loudonhad whispered:
"Wait. There's somethin' crooked here."
So they waited, Loudon watching for he knew not what piece of evil,Laguerre mystified but thoroughly prepared for eventualities. It wasnoticeable that, excepting the card-players, the men in the room wereafflicted with a strange restlessness. They moved aimlessly about;they hitched their chairs to new positions; they conversed by fits andstarts; they threw frequent glances toward the doorway.
Suddenly it happened.
A squat-bodied man with bat ears appeared on the threshold. As at asignal, the three men playing with the sheriff flung themselves down onthe floor. The hand of the squat-bodied man shot up and forward. Arevolver cracked twice, and the Sheriff of Sunset County quietlycrumpled across the card-table.
Through the swirling smoke of the discharge two red streaks flashed asthe six-shooters of Loudon and Laguerre barked in unison. Thesquat-bodied man fell forward on his face.
Head and shoulders on the floor of the saloon, his legs on thesidewalk, he lay motionless. Side by side, the souls of the sheriffand his murderer sped homeward.
The habitues of the Happy Heart unhurriedly deserted their points ofvantage against the wall, on the floor, or behind the bar, and gatheredabout the corpse of the squat-bodied man. They gazed upon the body fora brief space of time, then, one by one, they stepped carefully over itand departed.
"Gents," squeaked the perturbed bartender, "would yuh mind goin' out inthe street? I--I'm goin' to close up."
"It's only the mornin'," said Loudon. "Why close up?"
"I'm sick. I got indigestion right bad," the bartender explained.
Indeed, the bartender looked quite ill. His complexion had turned apasty yellow and his teeth were clicking together.
"Yuh look right bad," agreed Loudon. "But yo're mistaken about closin'up. Yo're a-goin' to keep open. Telescope, let's get the sheriffspread out right."
They pushed two tables together. Then they lifted the sheriff's bodyand laid it on the tables. They unbuckled the spurs, straightened thelimbs, covered the still face with the neck handkerchief, and put thehat over the gaping wound in the chest where the bullets had come out.When they had done all that they could they needed a drink. Theshivering bartender served them.
"For Gawd's sake, gents!" he pleaded. "Block'll be here in a minute!Go out in the street, won't yuh?"
"'Block'll be here,'" repeated Loudon. "How do yuh know he'll be here?"
The bartender began to stutter. His complexion became yellower.Loudon turned to Laguerre.
"Talks funny, don't he?" he observed. "Can't say nothin' but 'I.'"
Reaching across the bar, he seized the bartender by the shoulder.
"Say, fellah," he continued, "how do yuh know so much about Block?"
"I--I--I----" sputtered the bartender.
"I thought Block had left town. How do yuh know he's back?"
The bartender changed his tune.
"Ow! Ow!" he yelled. "Yo're hurtin' me! My shoulder! Ow!"
"I'll hurt yuh worse if yuh don't spit out what yuh know about Blockan' his doin's."
"He--he--oh, I can't! I can't!" wailed the bartender.
"Block shore has you an' the rest o' these prairie-dogs buffaloed. Ijust guess yes. Well, yuh needn't tell me. I'm a pretty good guessermyself. Telescope, let's you'n me go call on Block."
"I am you," said Laguerre, and slid through a rear window. Loudonfollowed
. They hastened along the rear of the line of houses andcrouched beneath the windowsill of a small two-room shack at the end ofthe street. There were sounds of a hot discussion in progress in thefront room.
"Guess he's home!" whispered Loudon. "Might as well go in."
Gently they opened the back door, and very quietly they tiptoed acrossthe floor of the back room to a closed door.
"We've got to hurry," a voice was saying.
"Shore," said the voice of Sheriff Block. "You three cover 'em throughthe back window when me an' the rest come in the front door. Yuh knowthere won't be no fuss if yore fingers slip on the trigger. I'd ratherbury a man any day than arrest him."
With a quick motion Loudon flung open the door.
"'Nds up!" cried he, sharply, covering the roomful.
Ten pairs of hands clawed upward. There were eleven men in the room.Every one of the lot, save the eleventh man, had the impression thatthe six-shooters of Loudon and Laguerre bore upon him personally.
The eleventh citizen, being nearest the door and possessing a gambler'sspirit, attempted to reach the street. He reached it--on his face.For Loudon had driven an accurate bullet through the fleshy part of histhigh.
"The next fellah," harshly announced Loudon, "who makes any fool breakswill get it halfway beneath his mind an' his mouth. There's a party inthe corner, him with the funny face--he ain't displayin' enoughenthusiasm in reachin' for the ceilin'. If he don't elevate hisflippers right smart an' sudden, he won't have no trouble at all inreachin' the stars."
The biceps of the gentleman of the face immediately cuddled his ears.The ten men were now painfully rigid. They said nothing. They did noteven think to swear. They knew what they deserved and they dreadedtheir deserts.
"Telescope," observed Loudon, softly, "s'pose yuh go round an' unbuckletheir belts. Better go through 'em, too. They might carryshoulder-holsters under their shirts. Take the hono'ble Mister SheriffBlock first. That's right. Now, Mister Sheriff, go an' stand in thatcorner, face to the side wall, an' keep a-lookin' right at the wall,too. I wouldn't turn my head none, neither. Yuh see, I don't guessthere'd be no fuss made if my finger should slip on the trigger. It'sa heap easier to bury a man than arrest him, ain't it?"
Loudon laughed without mirth. Block's nine friends, murder in theireyes, stared at Loudon. He stared back, his lips drawn to a white line.
"Yo're a healthy lot o' killers," commented he.
The last belt and six-shooter thudded on the floor just as Loudonperceived that the wounded citizen in the street was endeavouring tocrawl away.
"Telescope," he said, "I guess now the party in the street would feel aheap easier in here with all his friends."
Telescope marched out into the street and removed the wounded man'sgun. Then he seized him by the collar, dragged him into the shack, anddumped him in a corner. Meanwhile, Loudon had lined up the ninebeltless citizens beside Block against the side wall. They stood,stomachs pressed against the planks, a prey to violent emotions.
"Yuh can rest yore hands against the wall," said Loudon, kindly, "an'that's just all yuh can do."
"Gimme a drink!" gasped the wounded man.
Telescope scooped up a dipperful from the bucket under the table. Whenthe man had drunk, Telescope proceeded to cut away his trouser-leg andwash and expertly bandage the wound. His work of mercy finished, theefficient Telescope took post near the doorway where he could watch thestreet.
Loudon seated himself on the edge of the table and rolled a cigaretteone-handed. A silence, marred only by the flurried breathing of thestuck-up gentlemen, fell upon the room.
"Block," said Loudon, suddenly, "where's Blakely?"
Block maintained his attitude of silent protest. Loudon gentlyrepeated his question. Block made no reply.
Bang-g! Block convulsively shrank to one side. The line of citizensshook. Smoke curled lazily from the muzzle of Loudon's six-shooter.
"Block," observed Loudon, serenely, "get back in position. That'sright. Next time, instead o' shadin' yore ear I'll graze it. Nowwhere's Blakely?"
"I dunno," replied Block in a choked tone of voice.
"Well, maybe yuh don't, maybe yuh don't. Ain't he at the ranch nomore?"
"I ain't been to no ranch."
"I didn't say yuh had, did I?" mildly reproved Loudon. "But now thatyuh've brought it up, where did yuh pick up Shorty Simms?"
"What do yuh mean?"
"Oh, I'll explain to yuh. I always do that. Habit I got. Yuh see,Block, yest'day after you an' the Sheriff o' Sunset had a few words yuhleft town. To-day in comes Shorty Simms an' kills the sheriff--shootshim in the back, which is natural for a killer like Shorty.
"Well, Block, between the time of yore ridin' away yest'day an' themurder o' the sheriff to-day a fellah on a hoss like yores would justabout have time to ride to the 88 ranch an' back. O' course the fellahwouldn't have time for pickin' posies on the way, but he could make itby steady ridin'. Think hard now, Block, think hard. Ain't it justpossible yuh rid over to the 88?"
"No, ---- yuh, I didn't!"
"No? Well, now, ain't that curious? I shore thought yuh did.Telescope, I think I see a couple o' hosses in Block's corral. Wouldyuh mind ridin' herd on this bunch while I go out an' look at 'em?"
Loudon went out into the street. Far down the street a group of menhad gathered. Otherwise the street was deserted. Even Bill Lainey haddisappeared.
Loudon stopped and stared at the distant figures. They made no hostilemotions, but appeared to hold converse with each other. One detachedhimself from the group and came toward Loudon. He saw that it was hisfriend, Mike Flynn, the one-legged proprietor of the Blue Pigeon Store.The red-headed Irishman, his mouth a-grin from ear to ear, halted infront of Loudon and stretched out his hamlike paw.
"H'are yuh, Tom, me lad," he said, giving Loudon's hand a terrificgrip. "I'm glad to see yuh, an' that's the truth. Others are not soglad, I'm thinkin'." He peered through the doorway. "I thought so.'T's all right, Tommy, me an' me friends is with yuh heart an' soul.Though Farewell don't look it they's a few solid min like meself in theplace who are all for law an' order an' a peaceful life. But theyain't enough of us, djuh see, to get all we want to once.
"Still, we can do somethin', so, Tommy, me lad, go as far as yuh likewith Block an' his constituents yuh got inside. Put 'em over thejumps. Me an' me frinds will see that they's no attimpts made at ariscue. We will that. Be aisy. If yuh have a chance come to the BluePigeon. Not a word. Not a word. I know yo're busy."
Mike Flynn returned whence he came. Loudon was considerably relievedby what the Irishman had said. For only ten of the men who had been inthe Happy Heart were in Block's shack, and the absence of the othershad given him much food for thought. He hastened to inspect the horsesin the corral. Within three minutes he had resumed his seat on Block'stable.
"'Course I ain't doubtin' yore word, Block," he observed, "but one o'them hosses is yore black, an' the other hoss is a gray pony branded 88an' packin' a saddle with Shorty Simms's name stamped on the front o'the cantle. Both hosses look like they'd been rode fast an' far.Well, Shorty's dead, anyway. You yellow pup, yuh didn't have nerveenough to shoot it out with the sheriff yore own self! Yuh had to goget one o' Blakely's killers to do yore dirty work for yuh."
"Wat you say, Tom?" queried Laguerre. "Keel heem un tak hees hair,huh?"
"It'd shore improve him a lot. I got a plan, Telescope. Just wait ashake. Block, where's Rufe Cutting an' what happened to my hossRanger?"
"I dunno nothin' about Cutting," mumbled Block.
Instantly Loudon's six-shooter cracked. With a yelp of pain Blockleaped a yard high and clapped a hand to his head.
"Up with them hands!" rapped out Loudon. "Up with 'em!"
Block, shaking like a cedar branch in a breeze, obeyed. From a raggedgash in the Darwinian tubercle of his right ear blood trickled down hisneck.
"Block," said Loudon in his gentlest tone, "I wish yuh'
d give me someinformation about Rufe. I'll ask yuh again, an' this time if yuh don'tanswer I'll ventilate yore left ear, an' I'll use one o' these guns onthe floor here. Yuh got to make allowances for ragged work. I won'tknow the gun like I do my own, an' I may make more of a shot than Imean to. Yuh can't tell."
He drew a six-shooter from one of the dropped holsters, and cocked it.
"Where's Rufe Cutting an' my hoss Ranger?" continued Loudon.
"I dunno! I tell yuh I dunno!" squealed the desperate sheriff.
One of the two guns in Loudon's hands spoke twice. Block fell to hisknees, his hands gripping his head.
"Get up!" shouted Loudon. "Get up! It's only yore ear again. I usedmy own gun after all!"
Then, both what he had undergone at the hands of Block and the loss ofhis pet suddenly overwhelming him, he leaped at the crouching sheriffand kicked him.
"You ---- murderer!" he gritted through his teeth.
"Where's my hoss? Where is he? ---- yore soul! What did Rufe do tohim? Tell me, or by ---- I'll beat yuh to death here an' now!"
And with his wire-bound Mexican quirt Loudon proceeded savagely to lashthe sheriff. Loudon was a strong man. He struck with all his might.The double thongs bit through vest and flannel shirt and raised rawwelts on the flesh.
The sheriff writhed around and flung himself blindly at his torturer.But Loudon kicked the sheriff in the chest and hurled him, a groaningheap, into his corner. Nor did he cease to thrash him with the quirt.Between blows he bawled demands for news of his horse. Loudon feltsure that Ranger was dead, but he wished to clinch the fact.
"He's gone! Oh, my Gawd! He's gone south!" screamed Block, unable towithhold utterance another second.
Loudon held the quirt poised over his shoulder.
"Yuh mean Rufe Cutting?" he inquired.
"Both of 'em! Rufe an' the hoss! They're both gone!"
"Yuh mean Rufe has took my hoss away?"
"Yes! Yes! Don't hit me with that again."
Loudon did not know whether to believe the sheriff. It was more thanpossible that Block was lying to escape further punishment. Loudonstared at him. He made an ugly picture lying there on the floor, hisface a network of red welts. His shirt was dabbled and stained withthe blood from his wounded ears.
"I was goin' to give yuh a chance," said Loudon, slowly. "I was aimin'to give yuh yore gun an' let yuh shoot it out with me. But I can't dothat now. Yuh ain't in no shape for shootin'. It'd be like murder todown yuh, an' I ain't goin' to practise murder even on a dog like you.I'm kind o' sorry I feel that way about it. Yuh don't deserve to livea minute."
"You keel heem," put in Laguerre. "She try for keel you een de Ben'.Or I keel heem. I don' care. So she die, dat's enough."
"Can't be did, Telescope."
"I tell you, my frien', you let heem go, she mak plenty trouble."
"We've got to risk that. Yuh can't murder a man, Telescope. Yuh justcan't."
Laguerre shrugged expressive shoulders and said no more. It wasLoudon's business. He was boss of the round-up.
"Yuh see how it is, Block," observed Loudon. "I can't down yuh now,but next time we meet it's shoot on sight. Next time yuh see Blakelytell him I expected to meet him here in Farewell. I don't guess he'llcome now. Still, on the off chance that he does, me an' my friend willstay till sunset. Telescope, I feel sort o' empty. Guess I'll go inthe back room an' rustle some chuck."
While Loudon and Laguerre were eating, the sheriff fainted. The strainof standing upright combined with the rough handling he had receivedhad proved too much for him. Laguerre threw the contents of the waterbucket over the sheriff.
When the sheriff recovered consciousness Loudon gave the nine citizenspermission to sit on the floor. And they sat down stiffly.
Slowly the long hours passed. Occasionally Loudon walked to the doorand looked up and down the street. Apparently Farewell dozed.
But it was far from being asleep. Here and there, leaning against thehouse walls in attitudes of ease, were men. These men were posted inpairs, and Loudon saw Mike Flynn stumping from one couple to another.One pair was posted across the street from the sheriff's shack. Thefirst time Loudon appeared in the doorway these two nodded, and onewaved his arm in friendly fashion. There were only twelve in all ofthese sentinels, but their positions had been chosen with strategicwisdom. Any attempt at a rescue would be disastrous to the rescuers.
"Well," said Loudon when the sun was near its setting, "we might aswell be movin', Telescope."
"Mabbeso our hosses been rustle'," suggested Laguerre.
"If they are we'll get 'em back. Our friends here'll fix that up O.K."
The friends glared sullenly. They wanted blood, and lots of it. Theyhad been stuck up and reviled, two of them had been wounded, and theirself-respect had been grievously shattered. Vengeance would be verysweet. They wished for it with all the power of very evil hearts.
Loudon gathered up all the cartridge-belts and six-shooters and strungthem together. He slung the bundle over his shoulder and addressed hiscaptives.
"You fellahs stand on yore feet. Yo're goin' down street with us.Telescope, I'll wait for 'em outside. Send 'em out, will yuh."
Loudon stepped into the street. One by one the men came out and werelined up two by two in the middle of the street.
The last man was the sheriff. He did not shamble, and he did not keephis eyes on the ground in the manner of a broken man. It was evidentthat the virtue which passed with him for courage had returned. Evenas Captain Burr had remarked, Sheriff Block was not as other men. Hewas a snake. Nothing but the bullet that killed him could have anyeffect upon his reptilian nature. This Loudon realized to the full.
"I'm watchin' yuh, Block," he said. "My hand ain't none shaky yet,even if I have been holdin' a gun on yuh all day."
Block shot him a venomous side glance and then looked straight ahead.
"Git along, boys," ordered Loudon. "We'll be right behind yuh."
With Loudon and Laguerre marching on the right and left flank rearrespectively the procession trailed down the street till it arrivedopposite Bill Lainey's hotel. There, in obedience to Loudon's sharpcommand, it halted. While Laguerre guarded the prisoners Loudon wentto the corral. He found Lainey sitting on a wagon-box beside the gate,a double-barrelled shotgun across his knees. Lainey was excessivelywide awake.
"Did somebody come a-lookin' in at our hosses?" drawled Loudon.
"Somebody did," wheezed Lainey. "Somebody near had both of 'em out thegate, but I had this Greener handy, an he faded. By ----! I'd shoreadmire to see any tin-horn rustle hosses out o' my corral. They're fedan' watered, Tom, an' my wife's done----"
"Yes, Mr. Loudon," interrupted Mrs. Lainey, sticking her lean head outof the kitchen window. "I knowed yuh wouldn't have no time to eat, soI just rolled up some canned tomatters an' canned peaches an' somebeans an' some bacon an' a little jerked beef in yore slickers. Ain'tit hot? My land! I'm most roasted to death. How'd yuh like it upno'th?"
"Fine, Mis' Lainey, fine," replied Loudon. "I'm obliged to yuh, ma'am.I hope next time I'm in town I won't be so rushed an' I'll have time tostay awhile an' eat a reg'lar dinner. I tell yuh, ma'am, I ain'tforgot yore cookin'."
"Aw, you go 'long!" Mrs. Lainey giggled with pleasure and withdrew herhead.
"Bill," said Loudon, "yo're a jim-hickey, an' I won't forget it. Let'ssee--four feeds, two dinners. How much?"
"Nothin', Tom, nothin' a-tall. Not this trip. It's on the house.This is the first time I ever had a real chance to pay yuh back forwhat yuh done for my kid. Don't say nothin', now. Tom, I kind o'guess Farewell is due to roll over soon. Me an' Mike Flynn an' PineyJackson, the blacksmith, an' a few o' the boys are gettin' a heap tiredo' Block an' his little ways."
"I thought Piney was a friend o' Block's."
"He was, but Block ain't paid for his last eight shoein's, an' Pineycan't collect, an' now he ain't got a bit o' use for the sheriff.
Someday soon there's goin' to be a battle. Downin' the Sheriff o' Sunsetjust about put the hat on the climax. Folks'll take us for a gang o'murderers. Well, I'm ready. Got this Greener an' a buffler gun an'four hundred cartridges. Oh, I'm ready, you bet!"
Loudon, leading the two horses, rejoined his comrade. The animals werefractious, yet Loudon and Laguerre swung into their saddles withoutlosing for an instant the magic of the drop.
"We got here without no trouble," Loudon observed in a loud tone."We're goin' back the way we came. We'll hope that nobody turns looseany artillery from the sidewalk. If they do you fellahs won't live aminute."
No shots disturbed the almost pastoral peace of Farewell as prisonersand guards retraced their steps. Opposite the sheriff's shack theconvoy began to lag.
"Keep a-goin'," admonished Loudon. "We don't like to part with yuhjust yet."
The prisoners were driven to where a tall spruce grew beside theParadise Bend trail, three miles from Farewell.
"Yuh can stop here," said Loudon. "We'll drop yore guns an' belts acouple o' miles farther on. We're goin' back to the Bend, an' we'lltell the boys what a rattlin' reception yuh give me an' my friend. Ifyuh see Sam Blakely, Block, don't forget to tell him I was a heapdisappointed not to find him to-day. So long, sports, yo're theeasiest bunch o' longhorns I ever seen."
Loudon laughed in the sheriff's blood-caked face, and set spurs to hishorse.
"How far we go, huh?" queried Laguerre, when a fold in the groundconcealed the tall spruce.
"About four mile. There's a draw runnin' southeast. We'll ride downthat. We'd ought to be at the Cross-in-a-box round two o'clock. Wecould turn off right after we dump this assortment o' cannons. Theywon't follow us to see whether I told 'em the truth or not. They'lljust keep right on believin' we're a-headin' for the Bend hot-foot."
"I guess dey weel. Say, my frien', why deed'n you geet dat warran'from de sher'f un mak heem eat eet? I would, me."
"I don't want to let on I know anythin' about the warrant. Block wantsto spring it nice an' easy. All right--let him."
Between two and three in the morning they dismounted in front of theCross-in-a-box ranch house. Loudon pushed open the front door andwalked in. He closed the door and set his back against it.
"Hey, Jack!" he called. "Wake up!"
"Who's there?" came in the incisive voice of Richie, accompanied by adouble click.
"It's me--Tom Loudon. I want to see yuh a minute."
"That's good hearin'. I'll be right out. Light the lamp, will yuh,Tom?"
Tousle-headed Jack Richie brisked into the dim circle of lamplight andgripped his friend's hand. He was unfeignedly glad to see Loudon.
"C'mon where it's light," invited Richie. "What yuh standin' by thedoor for? I'll turn the lamp up."
"No, yuh won't. Don't touch the lamp, Jack. There's plenty o' lightfor my business. I'm standin' here 'cause I don't want nobody to knowI come here to-night--nobody but you an' Ramsay."
"I see," said Richie. "Want a hoss?"
"No, ours'll do. Yeah, I've got a friend with me. I can't bring himin. Got to be movin' right quick. I just stopped to know could Iborrow Johnny Ramsay for a while. It's on account o' the 88 outfit."
"Yuh shore can. The 88, huh? Well, I wish yuh luck. When yuh needany more help, let me know."
"Thanks, Jack. I knowed I could count on yuh."
"I'll get Johnny right away."
"No, to-morrow 'll do. There's somethin' I want Johnny to do first.I'd like him to ride over to the Bar S an' tell Chuck Morgan that if hefeels like makin' a change there's a job waitin' for him at the Flyin'M. I hate to take one of his men away from Old Salt, but it's root hogor die. I need another man, an' Chuck'll just fill the bill."
"Lemme fix it up. I can borrow Chuck for yuh. Old Salt'll listen tome. No, I won't have to tell him nothin' about yore business. Leaveit to me."
"All right. That's better'n takin' Chuck away from him. Yuh needn'tmention no name, but yuh can guarantee to Old Salt that Chuck's wageswill be paid while he's off, o' course. Yuh can tell Chuck on the sidethat Scotty Mackenzie will do the payin'."
"Scotty, huh? I did hear how he lost a bunch o' hosses. How many--twohundred, wasn't it?"
"One hundred. But that's enough."
"Yuh don't suspect the 88, do yuh? Why, the Flyin' M is two hundredmile north."
"What's two hundred mile to the 88? An' didn't Scotty ride it just tofind out whether I was straight or a murderer?"
"He shore did," laughed Richie. "Yuh couldn't blame the old jigger,though. That 88 brand on yore hoss was misleadin' some."
"That hoss o' mine's been stole. Yep, lifted right in the street inParadise Bend. Rufe Cutting done it."
"I don't remember him. Is he anybody special besides a hoss thief?"
"Friend o' Blakely's. Block says Rufe's drifted south--him an' thehoss. But Block may be lyin'. Yuh can't tell."
"Did the sheriff give yuh that information free of charge?"
"Not so yuh could notice it. I got it out of him with a quirt, an' Ihad to drill both his ears, he was that stubborn."
"Drilled both his ears. Well! Well! Yuh'd ought to have killed him."
"I know it. He went an' got Shorty Simms to kill the Sheriff o'Sunset."
"What?"
"Shore. It was thisaway."
Loudon related the circumstances of the sheriff's murder.
"An'," he said in conclusion, "Sunset ain't a-goin' to take it kindly."
"Which I should say not! His friends'll paint for war, that's a cinch.This country's gettin' worse an' worse!"
"No, only the people are, an' maybe we can get some of 'em to change.But I been here too long already. We're ridin' to Marysville, Jack,an' we aim to stay there a couple o' days. Tell Johnny an' Chuck tomeet us there, an' tell 'em not to bawl out my name when they see me.It'd be just like the two of 'em to yell her out so yuh could hear itover in the next county. An' I've got plenty of reasons for wishin' tobe private."
"Don't worry none. They'll keep their mouths shut. I'll fix that up.I wish yuh luck, Tom. I shore hope yuh get the 88 an' get 'em good. Iain't lost no more cows lately, but I don't like 'em any better forthat."
"I wish I could make Old Salt see the light," Loudon grumbled.
"I kind o' think he's comin' round. I seen him a week ago, an' hedidn't talk real friendly 'bout the 88. But then, he might have had abellyache at the time. Old Salt's kind o' odd. Yuh can't always tellwhat he's thinkin' inside."
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