The Long Dim Trail

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The Long Dim Trail Page 6

by Forrestine C. Hooker


  CHAPTER SIX

  In the meantime Powell and Limber were riding down the canyon, immersedin deep thought until Limber said, "Thar was fresh lion tracks leadin'into that cave."

  Powell jerked about, "Good Lord!" he ejaculated, realizing what it wouldhave meant had the brute been there when the woman and child sought theplace of refuge.

  "I told Glendon and Juan, and they're layin' for it, and Juan'll tellMrs. Glendon to keep away from the cave. He won't forget it."

  "Well," Powell commented, "I'm glad you told the Mexican. That fellowGlendon thinks of no one but himself. I was watching the child when hisfather came on the porch, and I'd hate to have any child or animal lookat me with such abject fear. It made me sick with fury. How can thatwoman stand such a life!"

  "Glen really does think a heap of her, in his own way," Limber repliedslowly, "But when he gets the smell of the cork of a whiskey bottle, hegoes plum loco. That's what made the row between him and his folks backEast. His father has heaps of money, but won't have nothin' to do withGlen. Leastways, that's what Glen tole me hisself, onct. He said todaythat he's goin' to pull up stakes as soon as he kin fix it to move, andtake his fambly where the Apaches can't run 'em like they done today."

  "I'll give him credit for some decent instincts when he moves them to ahalf-civilized place; but I wouldn't take his word for anything. He's anatural liar, I think. I'm sorry for that wife of his, and for thechild."

  "She's one of the finest women that ever drawed breath," answeredLimber. "She's stood a lot, and she'll stand a heap more."

  Conversation ceased until the cowboy pointed to a high peak.

  "See that peak up yonder? An ol' fellow lived thar fifteen yearsprospectin' for gold. Stayed all alone. He was always cocksure he wasgoin' to find a big mine someday. Some one called him Monty Cristy, andthe name stuck to him like a cockle-burr in a horse's mane. One day Iwas deer-huntin' and run into his camp. He had a dugout in the side ofthe mountain and a tunnel whar he'd been prospectin'. I went into thetunnel to look at the ore, and found him sittin' thar against the sidewall. His pick was across his knees and a piece of ore in his hand, buthe had been dead over a week. I buried him up thar."

  "Was the mine ever developed?"

  "Twarn't nothin' to develope. The bit of rock in his hand was like allthe stuff on the dump outside the tunnel. Plum worthless. Chock full ofiron pyrites--not worth a damn. 'Fools' Gold' is what the miners callsit."

  The cowboy leaned over and petted his pony's neck gently, thenstraightened up in the saddle and went on; "I've often wondered whetherol' Monty knowed at the last that it was only 'Fools' Gold.' Thar's aheap of people besides ol' Monty that keeps on diggin', hopin' for astrike and gettin' nothin' but 'Fools' Gold.' Tain't no use talkin' tothem. It's the lucky ones what don't find out the truth, after they'veput in the best of their lives workin' on a false lead."

  Powell's thoughts went back to the woman at the Circle Cross, and heanswered soberly, "You are right, Limber."

  A number of buzzards circled in the canyon a short distance ahead ofthem, but not directly on the trail. Limber called the doctor'sattention to them, and added, "We'd better go over and see what it isthat interests them. Maybe only a dead cow; but when the Indians is out,you never know what you're running into. You learn not to pass anythin'by when you find buzzards."

  They left the trail, worked through the dense underbrush that was mattedwith dead grass and other debris from past heavy floods. Buzzards flewup thickly at their approach. Then they sat looking down at a grey horsehuddled in the rocks. Saddle and bridle were gone. A few feet away wasthe body of an old man, his white hair clotted with blood from a bulletwound in the left temple; his sightless grey eyes upturned to the blueskies, as though in mute questioning.

  "God!" ejaculated Limber, as he leaped from his horse. "It's ol' DoctorKing! Damn them Apaches!"

  Powell's shock was not less than the cowboy's, and he knelt beside thebody of the man whom he had hoped to work with at the Springs. He didnot think of the annihilation of his own plans, but the things he hadheard of the kindly old man. Death had been instantaneous. The bullethad entered the left temple, ranged downward and out behind the rightear. The two men looked at each other, then Powell's eyes went up to thebroken side of the canyon. From back of one of those rocks had sped themessenger of death, with no warning to the old doctor who was on hiserrand of mercy to a little Mexican baby.

  "Why didn't the Indians take the horse?" was Powell's question.

  "Because it's grey. They ain't got no use for a grey or white horse,specially when they're out for trouble."

  Limber studied the ground about the horse and its dead owner.

  "Too rocky to show any trail," he commented at last.

  "He's been dead over night," Powell asserted as he finished examiningthe body.

  "The Apaches have been hangin' about for several nights in the Grahamrange. Thar's two bunches. I seen 'em signalling three nights ago rightback of Fort Grant where the soldiers couldn't catch sight of theirfires. They keep lookouts on the high peaks and hold a blanket in frontof the fire. Beats a telegraph office. Thar ain't nothin' smarter 'n anApache, unless it's two Apaches. You can't trust one unless he's dead.Chances is that the two bunches figure to come together at Point ofMountains, seven miles north of Willcox. Then when it's dark they'lljump across the valley to Cochise Stronghold and work into Mexico."

  "But, the soldiers could head them off," Powell interposed.

  Limber snorted. "Sounds that way all right. But, if you jest look atthese mountains and canyons, you'll pretty soon see that the soldiers hasjest as much chanct against them Apaches as an elephant would have ifyou set him in a hayfield to kill a flea by trompin' on it. When they'retired of killin' people and want a vacation and no hard work, they comein and give themselves up and go home to the Reservation."

  "There's nothing to be done here now, except to notify the properauthorities at Willcox, I suppose," Powell resumed. "We found him--butit's a different ending from the way we thought."

  Limber unstrapped a Navajo blanket from the back of his saddle, andtogether they wrapped the stiffened form of the old doctor.

  "Thar's heaps of people goin' to miss him," the cowpuncher said slowly,as they stood looking down. "Nobody ever called him that he didn't go,rain or shine. He never took one cent for what he done. Jest tol' 'em tofeed him an' his ol' grey horse and that was all the pay he wanted. Hewas sure a good man;" both heads were uncovered in silent homage.

  "I'll stay here," continued Limber, "if you'll ride back to Glendon'sand get his spring wagon, so we kin take the body to Willcox. It'll behard gettin' the wagon in the canyon, but I guess we kin make it. We'lllead our ponies behind the wagon."

  Powell was already mounting his horse, as Limber added, "'Twon't take aCoroner's jury long to bring in a verdict. I'm doggone glad, though, weain't a packin' Mrs. Glendon and Donnie along with Doctor King. Theysure had a close call this mornin'. If Geronimo hadn't been in a hurryto get across to that other bunch, they'd sure trailed Mrs. Glendon tothat cave."

  "It is no place for any woman to live," Powell's voice vibrated withindignation. "I can't understand how any man could bring a woman likeher to such surroundings. I'm glad he intends to move his family away.Any place would be better than this, for her."

  Limber watched his companion ride off, then busied himself with a secondexamination of the ground in the vicinity of the dead man and horse.Satisfied at last that he had overlooked no trace, he dropped on aboulder and rolled a cigarette, but as he shook the tobacco from thesack into the brown paper, a portion of it fell to the ground unnoticed.Limber was staring into space, an expression of doubt lurking in hisgrey eyes.

  "Derned if I kin understand why they took so much trouble hidin' theirtrail, Peanut," he spoke to the little pinto pony at his side. "The mainbunch must of rid higher up and one of 'em come down for the bridle andsaddle after King was shot; but, thar ain't a moccasin or any othertrack nowhars. It beats me."

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bsp; When Powell returned he was accompanied by Glendon, who climbed into thedriver's seat and picked up the reins after they placed King's body inthe wagon. Limber, leading Powell's pony, followed the wagon, mounted onPeanut. The vehicle bumped and jerked over large rocks of a trail thatnever before had been traversed by wagon wheels.

  Powell was not inclined to talk, but Glendon forced conversation, thoughit savoured of a monologue.

  "King told us he had no one belonging to him," Glendon's voice broke thesilence of the canyon, while the team headed for the Circle Cross."Katherine said you expected to form a partnership with him andestablish a sanitarium at the Springs. I suppose his death will alteryour plans. All this part of the country, you know, is unsurveyed groundand title held by possession only. I'd have bought the Springs myself ifthere had been a regular title. Hesitated at it because I only couldacquire Squatter's Rights, you know. However, I took the matter uprecently with my father, and am now waiting his reply. I don'tunderstand why King didn't let you know I was figuring on it. Did hegive you any option?"

  "No;" answered the Doctor, wondering at the statement which conflictedwith what Limber had just said regarding Glendon's plans to leave thecanyon. Then he recalled that Traynor had asserted King would not sell toany one except a physician who would co-operate with him in his plans.He knew the man beside him was lying for some reason, but what thatreason was, Powell could not decide. "I have not even broached thematter to Doctor King. I came over today to look at the place and if itsuited me, to make a proposition to him. I never met him and I don'tbelieve he ever heard of me."

  "Of course," Glendon went on, as Powell stopped abruptly wondering ifGlendon had no sense of decency to keep talking while the dead man layin the wagon they were driving, "I had no written agreement with King.Out here, a verbal contract is all we ask of a man. So I ought to haveprior right because of our understanding. I don't suppose he made anywill, as he had no heirs, and could not will the Springs, anyway,without a legal title to it himself. In that case, the estate wouldrevert to the Territory. A Government Patent would have made lesscomplication."

  He glanced furtively at Powell, who made no reply, as they had reachedthe corral of the Circle Cross. Katherine Glendon stood on the porch,her eyes blinded with tears, her lips quivering.

  Glendon climbed heavily from the driver's seat, and Powell saw that hissteps were uncertain. Limber tied his pony, Peanut, and the doctor'shorse to the back axle of the wagon. A few quiet words were spoken bythe two men to Mrs. Glendon, then they went on their way with theirtragic burden, and each man was busy with his own thoughts.

  It was past sunset when they reached Willcox. After reporting thetragedy and turning the body over to the authorities, there was nothingmore they could do, and Powell went to the Willcox Hotel where heobtained a room. Limber parted from him at the door.

  "I guess I'd better hunt up the boys and see how things is goin' alongwith the cattle."

  Though neither spoke of it, the uppermost thoughts in the minds of thetwo men was the woman at the Circle Cross, alone with a man whoseindifference to her danger had almost cost her life and that of herboy's.

  Back in the lonely canyon a coyote skulked past the empty house at theHot Springs. Further down the road a woman stood at the door of her homestaring into the darkness.

  When she had made her final visit to see if Donnie were all right forthe night, and leaned over to press a kiss on the child's cheek,something slipped from his relaxed hand. Wondering which of his toys hehad smuggled to bed with him, she stooped and saw the pen-knife that oldDoctor King had treasured through his long, lonely years. A wave ofrealization overwhelmed her. There would be no more visits from thisloyal old friend, now. The future loomed ahead of her as black as thenight that wrapped the canyon.

 

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