CHAPTER TWENTY
Limber unsaddled his pony in the Cowboys' Rest, after the trainload hadpulled out. He found that the episode of the burnt cow was already beingdiscussed openly.
"Glendon's goin' to get into heaps of trouble if he ain't more careful,"stated Buckboard to Limber. "He's mixin' in with a mighty bad bunch."
Limber hung his saddle on a peg and stood rubbing Peanut's nose gently."You're sure right, Buckboard;" he replied slowly. "I'm derned sorryabout it. I done all I knew how to pull him up, but 'tain't been nogood, so fur's I can see. What stumps me is why a fellow what has somany chances to make good works as hard as Glen does a dodgin' 'em. Hecome here with plenty dinero, had heaps of friends and a rich father toback him. Then he was eddicated and has the dandiest wife that everstepped on earth. Sometimes I think he's plumb locoed."
"Mrs. Glendon's got a good-sized bunch of trouble just now and more acomin', unless Glen wakes up and hits another trail pretty damn quick;"growled Buckboard. "That Mexican woman is making a regular fool of him,and gets every cent that he handles. I've been wondering how much longerthe stores will carry him. His herd don't amount to shucks any more."
"If I knowed a woman like Glendon's wife was waitin' for me at a ranch,I'd think I was the richest man in Arizona Territory, even if the ranchonly had one room and I hadn't but five head of cows;" Limber spokeearnestly, and old Buckboard, catching the look on the cowpuncher'sface, paused a second before he answered.
"There's plenty good men that would be a heap better to her thanGlendon, for all his fancy way of talking. But nobody can't do nothin'to help a woman like her when she's tied up to a skunk like Glendon.It's a damn shame, but a woman of her sort just goes along and plays outthe game with a lone hand. But she plays it square."
"I know. That's what makes it hard. I try to do what I can to help Glen,just so's to ease the load on her, but he keep's pilin' it up more andmore every day."
"When a feller like him catches on to other people letting him off easyon account of her, he'll work that game for all it's worth. Instead oftryin' to cover up his tracks, it'd be lots better to give him ropeenough to hang himself. Then she could cut loose from him."
"No she wouldn't," contradicted Limber. "So long as Glendon is aboveground she'll stick to him, no matter what he does. Glen knows that,too."
"Then, by God! I hope something will put him under ground before hebreaks her heart," exploded Buckboard, giving a vicious slash with atie-rope at a handy post which relieved his irritation, for he knewLimber had spoken the truth.
The conversation was interrupted by Bronco who hastened up to Limber.
"Guess there's goin' to be trouble in town," he announced.
"Glendon?" demanded Buckboard, hopefully.
"Nope. It's Three-fingered Jack this time," was the reply. "Alpaugh, theconstable, is away at Tombstone, and Three-finger come in last night andhas been tankin' up ever since, and by this time he figgers he's got therange to hisself."
"Whar's Peachy? Isn't he Deputy Constable?" asked Limber as they passedthrough the corral gate.
Bronco grunted. "Peachy? Whar's Peachy?" he paused to gather scorn."Peachy's in hidin'. Jack shot out the lights in the corner saloon lastnight and every one ducked and stampeded, and that denied DeputyConstable dropped on all fours behind the bar and crawled outen the roomjest like the yeller pup he is. All he needs is a few fleas to finishhim! Then he lit out in the back yard and one feller told me he seen himjump over that ten-foot board fence back of the saloon, and he swarsPeachy never teched it. He's some jack-rabbit when it comes to jumpin',and he's got as much nerve as one. Just because Jack's got the name ofbein' a bad man and handy with his gun, he's got the whole townbuffaloed. But the funny thing is, no one ever knowed who Jack haskilled. He sure ain't done no gun-play here except plug tin cans to showoff."
"He needs some one to take that freshness outen him;" Limber spokequietly as though commenting on the weather. "If Peachy ain't handy,looks like it's up to us to see the Jedge and ask if he needs anydeputy."
"That's why I was huntin' you," was Bronco's answer, but furtherconversation was interrupted by a fusilade of shots.
"I guess he's turned loose," Limber spoke as they ran toward the noises."Thar ain't no time now to see the Jedge. It's up to us, Bronc. Comealong."
They were joined by other men who ran from various directions and at aturn of the street they saw Three-fingered Jack standing in the roadway,close to the office of the Justice of the Peace, who represented theonly judicial authority in Willcox. Jack's pistol was smoking. Heregarded the assembled men insolently.
"I heerd there's some one who's going to serve a warrant on me,"challenged Jack. "What I'm afraid of is that he won't know just where tofind me."
He wheeled and sent several bullets against the large plate glass windowof a corner store, accompanied by a hair-raising yell as the glassclattered to the ground in fragments.
Limber and Bronco reached the outer edge of the crowd and pushed throughit, but stopped as they saw a man saunter nonchalantly around thecorner from the Main street. He paused, regarded the crowd, then hiseyes wandered interestedly to Jack, who was busy slipping freshcartridges into his pistol.
As the gunman started to flourish his weapon, he became aware of thenew-comer, who advanced toward him and said, "If I were you I would notshoot so promiscuously, my friend. You might accidentally hit something,you know."
"It's Doc," ejaculated Limber, "and he ain't got no gun!"
Jack evidently recognized Powell, for he swung and faced him demandingwhat he was talking about.
Powell held out a paper. "If you are Jack Dunlap, known asThree-fingered Jack, and supposed to be a gunman, I have a warrant foryour arrest. I've just been made special Deputy Constable."
Jack regarded him with open contempt. "Oh, is that so?" he sneered."Well, here I am! Come on and do your duty, Mr. Special Constable."
Limber pressed toward Powell, with Bronco at his side, and close behindthem loomed Holy and Roarer, but Powell smiled at them and shook hishead at the puzzled punchers of the Diamond H. Limber's finger restedlightly on the trigger of his pistol which apparently hung loosely inthe hand at his side. His eyes glinted dangerously, his lips weretightened into a thin line. Bronco glanced at him, and knew DoctorPowell was safe. Only a few men were aware of the quickness with whichLimber could draw and how accurately the apparently careless bulletswere sent.
"I wonder what Doc is up to?" murmured Bronco, but none of them couldsolve the problem.
Powell moved deliberately toward Jack, who suddenly began firing hispistol at the ground close to Powell's feet, yelling, "Dance, you hyenatender-foot! Dance, damn you!"
The ground flew up and struck one of Powell's feet, but he only glancedat the place as though interested in Jack's marksmanship. "That isn't sobad," he smiled at the gunman.
Jack strode forward, cursing violently, but the doctor seemed obliviousto it, as he took a handsome cigarette case from his pocket, selected acigarette with solicitous care and lighted it. Then he looked up atJack.
The gun-man was nonplussed. He hesitated to attack an unarmed man, notbecause of moral scruples but the realization of the consequences tohimself. Jack had not seen the men of the Diamond H who were groupedalertly back of him, each man's pistol ready.
Measuring the weight and height of Powell, Jack, who was much larger,shoved his pistol into the holster, saying, "I don't care to pot ajack-rabbit."
Powell made no move. Jack advanced in front of him, thrust his faceagainst the doctor's and snarled, "Well, what are you going to do aboutthat warrant, Mr. What-d'ye call 'em?"
"Oh, nothing except arrest you," was the calm reply as the doctor puffeda little volcano of cigarette smoke into Jack's face and looked himsteadily in the eyes. "I am unarmed," said Powell loudly enough to beheard by all the bystanders, "but I believe you are too much of a cowardto face any man without your gun, even though you know he is unarmed."
Goaded by the challenge, Jack rip
ped out an oath, unbuckled his pistolbelt and handed it to a bystander, who accepted it with evidentreluctance.
"Now, come along," yelled the gunman. "Come along and arrest me, if youcan--but before you do it I'm going to take you across my knee and giveyou a regular spanking like your mother used to do, sonny."
He reached forward. Before any one knew what had happened,Three-fingered Jack was sprawling on the ground, while Powell satquietly astride the man's chest, holding Jack's arms with his own knees.Jack writhed and struggled, but was unable to disturb the man whosmiled down at him. As Jack's curses increased, Powell deliberatelypatted the outlaw's face gently, saying in soothing accents, "Don't letyour temper rise, Jack! It isn't becoming in such a regular littleMama's darling like you!"
Howls of laughter roused Jack to the realization that his reputation wasat stake. He broke into threats of dire revenge on Powell. The doctorpaid no attention to the man who was helpless in the grip of steel, butmerely asked, "Has any one here a rope that I could borrow a shorttime?"
Jack stopped cursing, and a disagreeable recollection intruded itselfupon him. A man had asked for a rope in Wyoming. The crowd had cut Jackdown before he was entirely unconscious, and Jack had emigrated toArizona without delay.
Powell had no such intention. The rope was employed to truss the "gun"man from head to feet, like a fly wound in a spider's web. Aninvoluntary murmur of approval passed among the men who had seen theepisode, but at that moment Glendon staggered through the crowd andbefore any one could move, levelled a pistol at Powell.
"Take that rope off," he shouted with a volley of the foulest oaths athis command.
"Don't interfere," warned Powell, facing Glendon.
"You take that rope off or I'll put daylight through you, youwhite-livered sneak," screamed the other man.
His words died away in a thud, as Powell sprang at him like a wild-cat,clasping him about the arms and falling heavily to the ground withGlendon sprawled underneath. The pistol in Glendon's hand flew throughthe air, struck the ground and exploded harmlessly in the dust.
"I'll need another rope," apologized Powell in unruffled tones. "I'msorry to trouble you again."
There was a laugh, and in less time than it takes to relate, Glendon wasas helpless as Jack. The sight of them lying side by side was too muchfor the gravity of the crowd, and laughter was unrestrained. Powelllooked down at Glendon, but there was no triumph in his heart. A woman'spleading face rose between him and the man at his feet who was voicinghis vile thoughts and threats. Three-fingered Jack turned his headslightly and there was a twitch of the "gun" man's mouth, but he made noremark.
The driver of the one and only town truck was standing on the seat ofhis wagon surveying the captured men. Powell called to him, "How muchwill you charge to haul this load to the calaboose?"
"Do it for nothing," replied the driver promptly.
So he and Powell, assisted by many volunteers, lifted the mummy-likeforms into the wagon, then the entire assemblage followed behind thevehicle as it moved slowly down the street.
"Gee!" laughed Holy, "That was the funniest sight I ever seed in mylife."
"Looks like the funeral of a real, respectable citizen," squeakedRoarer.
"Well, it's Jack's funeral, sure enough," answered Limber. "He's a dead'bad man' from now on, but the doctor has won his spurs, you bet!"
The wagon stopped in front of the little adobe building which was usedas the town jail, and Powell assisted the driver to lift the prisonersbodily into the room which took the place of a cell. The ropes wereremoved. Jack and Glendon stood free in front of their captor. He eyedthem in silence a few seconds, then said, "I want you both to understandthat I had no personal feeling in anything I did. Law is law, whether inArizona or any other place. Gun-play is for bullies, not men."
Neither replied. Powell picked up the two ropes and left the place.Outside he found Limber waiting, but there was no reference to what hadjust taken place. Powell handed the ropes to Limber and asked him tolocate the owners, then the doctor continued down the street to theoffice of the Justice of Peace, who smiled at him cordially.
"It was just a simple trick of jiu-jitsu," explained Powell. "But now Iwant to know how much the fine will be for Jack and Glendon?"
"Thirty dollars, or thirty days in the Tombstone jail," answered theJustice.
Powell reached across the desk and appropriated a pen which he dippedinto the ink-well. He drew out his check-book, saying, "I suppose thisis permissable?" The Judge nodded.
"It may be a little hard on them to pay the fine," Powell spoke as hewrote. "I don't want them to know who did it. Keep the matter betweenourselves. They have had a lesson, I think."
"The best in the world," responded the Judge, smiling at hisrecollection of the two trussed figures in the wagon.
It was only a short time later that Limber hunted up the Judge andvolunteered to stand good for any fine imposed on Glendon. When he wastold that another person had assumed the responsibility already, forboth men, Limber left the office feeling pretty certain that Powell hadanticipated his own intention. But neither of them ever spoke of thematter.
When the full moon peered over the horizon that night, it shone on twomen who rode slowly toward the Hot Springs ranch, each of them glad tobe back again in the peace of the mountains. And down in a cell, themoonlight flooded the floor criss-crossed with black bars from thewindow, and two men lay thinking in the silent hours of the night, butlike the men who rode to the Springs, neither of them told his inmostthoughts to the other. Some thoughts are too holy to be spoken aloud;others too black.
The next morning Glendon and Jack, thoroughly sobered, were broughtbefore the Judge for their hearing. After a sharp warning that a secondoffense would mean much heavier penalty, a fine of thirty dollars eachwas imposed. "I can't pay it, Judge," confessed Jack, frankly. "I'mbroke, owe three months advance wages and have to find a job."
"Maybe Glendon can pay both fines until you are able to work it out,"suggested the Judge amiably.
"I've got all I can do to pay my own," was the surly reply. "UnlessNorton will advance it, I'm stuck."
"It seems too bad to have to send you both to the Tombstone jail forthirty days, boys," sympathized the Justice. "If the offense had notbeen so serious, I might have held you in the calaboose; but the chargewas not only disturbing the peace, but also resisting an officer."
A grin spread over Jack's face. "Say, Judge, that's a real joke! Did yousee how fur we resisted? Well, I guess we deserved it, and it's up to usto take our medicine like little men."
"I'm glad to hear you say that, Jack. Now, I want you both to give meyour word of honour that you will not make any further disturbance inWillcox after this."
"All right," Jack answered readily, looking squarely into the Judge'sface. "I don't hold any grudge against Powell. I own up he's a betterman than I am."
"Glendon?"
"I wouldn't have made such an ass of myself if I had been sober," wasGlendon's evasive answer, while he eyed a knot hole in the board at hisfeet.
"Both fines have been already paid."
They looked up amazed. "Who was it?" demanded Jack.
"I am not at liberty to tell," was the reply.
Jack stared a moment, then a smile spread over his face, "By Gosh! I betit was that doctor!" he exclaimed. "Say, Judge if it was him, will youtell him I'm much obliged, and that he's a white man, and I'll lick thestuffing out of any one that picks on him, if he just lets me knowanytime!"
Glendon made no comments as he left the office, but Jack turned back atthe threshold to call, "I'm going to get out of town as fast as I can,Judge. I've got to hustle for a job so I can pay back that fine. I'llsee that the money gets to you p. d. q. So long!"
"Good luck, boys," answered the Judge heartily. Then turned to his deskand papers, thinking that there was more manhood to the "gun man" thanthe one who accompanied him. The two walked side by side in apparentfriendliness until Jack said, "Well, that was a surprise part
y allaround, Glen. I bet I hit the bull's eye guessing it was the doctor."
Glendon's eyes glinted angrily at Jack's open praise of Powell. "Hecertainly made a laughing-stock of you," snarled Glendon. "Threw youdown, trussed you up like a Christmas turkey, loaded you in the towntruck, and now you are ready to lick his boots in gratitude after heputs the last insult on you by paying your fine. Pah! You make me sick!"
Jack gripped the other man's arm angrily. "See, here, Glen! I'm not sucha mollycoddle that I won't fight you or any other man that talks thatway to me." Jack stood glaring down at Glendon, who returned the angrystare. Then a grin started on Jack's face, and he drawled slowly, "Don'tsee that you've got any call over me, Glen. There was two Christmasturkeys, but you did the loudest gobbling. Don't you ever forget that!"
"I'm not apt to," retorted the other. "I never would have been mixed upin it if I hadn't been trying to help you out."
"And I wouldn't have started anything if it hadn't been for you eggingme on. You said he was a tenderfoot. Tenderfoot! Wow! I'd like to knowwhat kind of bad men they have where he came from, if he's atenderfoot!" He paused to ponder over the possibilities of such anindividual. "See, here, Glen, so long as Powell minds his business, I'llmind mine; and if you've got a grudge against him on account of hisgetting the Springs, you needn't try to get me to take it out on him foryou."
Glendon's face was white with rage. "I suppose that means you are goingto take backwater on everything and join some Church and shout'Hallelujah! I'm saved!' Eh?"
"It means just what I said. If you've got any pick on Powell that isyour own business. As far as the other plans go, the cards are dealtalready, and I'll stand pat."
The Long Dim Trail Page 20