CHAPTER XXI
THE PASSING OF LONG BILL KEARNEY
It was yet dark when the Texan rolled from the blankets at the edge ofMcWhorter's haystack, and dumped a liberal measure of oats into the blueroan's feed box. While the animal ate, the man carefully examined hisoutfit by the light of the waning moon. Gun, cinch, bridle, saddle,rope, each came in for its bit of careful scrutiny, and when he hadfinished he saddled and bridled the horse in the stall and led him outjust as the first faint hint of dawn greyed the east. As he swung intothe saddle, the horse tried to sink his head, but the Texan held him up,"Not this mornin', old hand," he said, soothingly, "it wastes strength,an' I've got a hunch that maybe I'm goin' to need every pound you've gotin you." As if recognizing the voice of a master, the horse gave one ortwo half-hearted jumps, and stretched into an easy lope. As the couleebegan to slant to the bench the man pulled him down to a walk whichbecame a steady trot when the higher level was gained.
The Texan rode with a much lighter heart than he had carried on theprevious day. The words of Janet McWhorter had kindled a ray of hope--ahope that had grown brighter with the dawning of the day. He even smiledas he thought of the girl back there in the cabin. "I didn't think therewas her like in the world. She's--she's the kind of woman a man dreamsabout, an' knows all the time they ain't real--they couldn't be. Hair asblack an' shiny as the wing of a crow. An' eyes! Sometimes you can seeway down into 'em--like deep, clear water an' when they laugh, thesurface seems to ripple an' throw back flashes of sunshine. An' there'sother times, too. They can look at you hard an' grey--like a man's eyes.An' they can get black an' stormy--with lightnin' flashes instead ofsunshine. There's a woman for some man--an' believe me, he better be_some man_! He'd have to be to get her." The man dreamed a jumbled, rosydream for a mile or more. "An' she can ride, an' shoot, leastwise shepacks a gun--an' I bet she can use it. I've seen these ridin', shootin'kind--lots of 'em--an' mostly, they don't sort of stack up to what a manwould want to marry--makes you kind of wonder if they wouldn't expectthe man to rock the cradle--but not her--she's different--she's allgirl. After Win's wife--I never expected to see another one--but,shucks--she said there was more--an' she was right--partly--there's onemore. I'm goin' to hunt a job over on this side--" his train of thoughthalted abruptly, and involuntarily, his gaze fastened upon theblue-black peaks of the Judith range to the southward across the river.His gloved hand smote his leather chaps with a crack that made the blueroan jump sidewise: "I'll be damned if I do!" he exclaimed aloud, "I'llgo straight back to Dad Colston! I'll tell him the whole thing--he'llknow--he'll understand an' if he'll give me my job back I'll--I'll buyme a mile of cable an' rig up Long Bill's ferry right plumb across tothe mouth of Red Sand! I don't want her till I've earnt her--but thereain't no one else goin' to come snoopin' around--not onless he's abetter man than I am--an' if he is, he ought to win."
At the edge of the bad lands the Texan pulled up in the shelter of atwisted bull pine that grew from the top of a narrow ridge, andbanishing all thought of the girl from his mind, concentrated upon thework at hand. He knew Purdy for just what he was. Knew his basebrutishness of soul--knew his insatiable greed--and it was upon thislatter trait that he based his hope. Carefully he weighed the chances.He knew how Purdy must hate the pilgrim for the shooting back at WolfRiver. He knew that the man's unreasoning hate would extend to the girlherself. He knew that Purdy hated him, and that if he found out throughLong Bill that he had been with her, the man's hate would be redoubled.And he knew that even in the absence of any hatred on the part of Purdy,no woman would be safe in his hands. To offset unreasoning hate andbestial desire was only the man's greed. And greed would be a factoronly if Purdy knew of the reward. The fact that Long Bill had riddenone of Purdy's horses added strength to the assumption that they hadbeen in touch. "A thousan' dollars is too much money for Purdy to passup," muttered the Texan as his eyes swept the dead plain. "He knows he'dhave to deliver her safe an' unharmed, an' the chances are he'd figurehe could make Win shell out a good bit more'n the thousan'. Anyhow, ifLong Bill ain't got back across the river yet, I've got two chances oflocatin' her instead of one."
The Texan's attention riveted upon a spot less than a quarter of a mileaway. Above the edge of a low cutbank, that formed the wall of a shallowcoulee a thin curl of smoke rose and was immediately dispersed. Sofleeting was the glimpse that he was not sure his eyes had not playedhim false. Long and intently he stared at the spot--yes, there it wasagain,--a gossamer wraith, so illusive as to be scarcely distinguishablefrom the blue haze of early dawn. Easing his horse from the ridge, heworked him toward the spot, being careful to keep within the shelter ofa coulee that slanted diagonally into the one from which the smoke rose.A hundred yards from his objective he dismounted, removed his spurs, andcrawled stealthily toward the rim of the cutbank. When within arm'sreach of the edge he drew his gun, and removing his hat, wriggledforward until he could thrust his face into a tuft of bunch grass thatprojected over the edge.
Not ten feet below him Long Bill Kearney squatted beside a tiny fireand toasted a strip of bacon upon the point of a long knife. Long Billwas alone. A short distance away a cayuse stood saddled and bridled.Noiselessly the Texan got to his feet and stood looking down at the manby the fire. The man did not move. Grease dripped from the bacon andlittle tongues of red flame curled upward, licking at the strip on theknife. The strip curled and shrivelled, and slipping from the point,dropped into the fire. Cursing and grumbling, the man fished it out withthe knife, and removing the clinging ashes upon his sleeve, conveyed itto his mouth with his fingers. From a greasy paper beside him he drewanother strip and affixed it on the point of the knife. As he thrust ittoward the fire he paused, and glanced uneasily toward the cayuse whichdozed with drooping head and one rear foot resting upon the toe.Apparently satisfied, he resumed his toasting, but a moment laterrestlessly raised his head, and scrutinized the lower reach of thecoulee. Looking over his shoulder he submitted the upper reach to likescrutiny. Then he scanned the opposite rim while the bacon shrivelledand the little red flames licked at the knife blade. Finally as if drawnby some unseen force he deliberately raised his face upward--and foundhimself staring straight into the eyes of the Texan who had thrust thegun back into its holster. Seconds passed--long tense seconds duringwhich the man's hands went limp, and the knife dropped unheeded intothe fire, and the bacon burned to a charcoal in the little red flame.His lower jaw had sagged, exposing long yellow fangs, but his eyes heldwith terrible fascination upon the cold stare of the Texan.
"My Gawd!" he muttered, thickly when he could endure the silence nolonger, "I--we--thought you was drownded."
"Oh, we did, did we? But we was afraid I wasn't so we went ahead an'spread those bills. Well, I'm here--do you want that reward?"
The question seemed to inspire Long Bill with a gleam of hope. Hestruggled to his feet: "Lord, no! Not me, Tex. I just tuck them papers'long 'cause----"
"Where's the girl?"
"What girl--you mean the pilgrim's woman? I donno--s'elp me--I donnonawthin' 'bout it."
"Where's Purdy?"
"Who? Purdy? Him? I donno. I ain't seen him. I ain't seen him fer--it'sgoin' on a hell of a while. Last time I seen him----"
The sentence was never finished. Lightly as a cat the body of the Texanshot downward and hardly had his feet touched the ground than a glovedfist drove straight into Long Bill's face. The man crashed heavilybackward and lay moaning and whimpering like a hurt puppy. Stepping tohis side the Texan kicked him in the ribs: "Get up!" he commanded.
With a grunt of pain, the man struggled to a sitting posture. A thintrickle of blood oozed from the corner of his mouth. He raised a shakyhand to his face and inserting a long black nailed forefinger betweenhis puffed lips, ran it along the inner edge of his gums and drew fortha yellow tooth. Leaning forward he spat out a mouthful of blood, andanother tooth clicked audibly upon the rocks. With the other hand hefelt gingerly of his side: "You've knocked out my teeth," he snivelled,"an' broke my rib.
"
"An' I ain't only just started. I'm goin' to knock out the rest of 'em,an' break the rest of your ribs--one at a time. You've got your guns on,why don't you shoot?"
"You'd kill me 'fore I c'd draw," whined the man.
"You've got me--exact. Stand on your feet--it's too far to reach when Iwant to hit you again." The man got to his feet and stood coweringbefore the Texan.
"Now you answer me--an' answer me straight. Every time you lie I'm goin'to knock you down--an' every time you drop, I'm goin' to kick you upagain. Where's that girl?"
"Purdy's got her."
"Where?"
"Over--over to the hang-out."
"What hang-out?"
"Cass Grimshaw's--" Again the Texan's fist shot out, again Long Billcrumpled upon the floor of the coulee, and again the Texan kicked himto his feet, where he stood shrinking against the cutbank with his handspressed to his face. He was blubbering openly, the sound issuing frombetween the crushed lips in a low-pitched, moaning tremolo--a disgustingsound, coming from a full-grown man--like the pule of a brainless thing.
The Texan shook him, roughly: "Shut up! Where's Purdy? I know CassGrimshaw. Don't try to tell me he's into any such dirty work as this."
"Purdy's in Grimshaw's gang," yammered the man, "Grimshaw ain't in onit--only Purdy. If she ain't in the hang-out, I don't know where she'sat. Purdy wouldn't tell me. He'd be afraid I'd double-cross him."
"What's he goin' to do with her?"
"Git the reward."
"An', you're in on it? You're the go-between?"
The man shrank still farther back against the wall: "Yes."
"When are you goin' to collect it?"
"Yeste'day a week----"
Once more the Texan's fist drew back, but the man grovelled against thedirt wall, holding his hands weakly before his battered face: "Not agin!Not agin! Fer Gawd's sakes! I kin prove it! Here's the paper! Kill mewhen you read it--but fer Gawd's sakes don't hit me no more!" Fumblingin his shirt pocket, he drew out the note Purdy had written and signedwith the Texan's name. Carefully Tex read it and thrust it into hispocket.
"Where's Grimshaw's hang-out?" he asked, in a voice of deadly quiet.
"It's in a coulee--ten miles from here. A coulee with rock sides, an' arock floor. A deep coulee. Ride straight fer Pinnacle Butte an' you'llcome to it. It's up the coulee, in a cave."
The Texan nodded: "All right. You can go now. But, remember, if you'velied to me, I'll hunt you down. I ought to kill you anyway--for this."He tapped the pocket where he had placed the note.
"Purdy writ it--I can't write. I ain't lyin'. It's there--the cave--westside--crack in the rock wall." The man was so evidently sincere that theTexan grinned at him:
"An' you think when I go bustin' in on 'em, they'll just naturally fillme so full of holes my hide won't hold rainwater--is that it? You waittill I tell Cass Grimshaw you're sneakin' around tippin' folks off tohis hang-out. Looks to me like Long Bill Kearney's got to kiss the badlands good-bye, no matter which way the cat jumps."
A look of horror crept into the man's face at the words. He advanced astep, trembling visibly: "Fer Gawd's sakes, Tex, you wouldn't do that!I'm a friend of yourn. You wouldn't double-cross a friend. Cass, he'dkill me just as sure as he'd kill a rattlesnake if it bit him!"
"An' that's jest about what's happened." Both men started at the soundof the voice and glancing upward, saw a man standing at almost theexact spot where the Texan had stood upon the edge of the cutbank. Hewas a squat, bow-legged man, and a tuft of hair stuck grotesquely from ahole in the crown of his hat. With a shrill yaup of terror Long Billjerked a gun from its holster and fired upward. The report was followedinstantly by another and the tall form in the coulee whirled halfaround, sagged slowly at the knees, and crashed heavily forward upon itsface.
"Glad he draw'd first," remarked Cass Grimshaw, as he shoved a freshcartridge into his gun. "It give him a chanct to die like a man, even ifhe ain't never lived like one."
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