Blazed Trail Stories, and Stories of the Wild Life

by Stewart Edward White

  II

  BILLY'S TENDERFOOT

  During one spring of the early seventies Billy Knapp ran a species ofroad-house and hotel at the crossing of the Deadwood and Big Horn trailsthrough Custer Valley. Travellers changing from one to the otherfrequently stopped there over night. He sold accommodations for man andbeast, the former comprising plenty of whiskey, the latter plenty ofhay. That was the best anyone could say of it. The hotel was of logs,two-storied, with partitions of sheeting to insure a certain privacy ofsight if not of sound; had three beds and a number of bunks; and boastedof a woman cook--one of the first in the Hills. Billy did not run itlong. He was too restless. For the time being, however, he wasinterested and satisfied.

  The personnel of the establishment consisted of Billy and the woman,already mentioned, and an ancient Pistol of the name of Charley. Thelatter wore many firearms, and had a good deal to say, but had never, asBilly expressed it, "made good." This in the West could not be for lackof opportunity. His functions were those of general factotum.

  One evening Billy sat chair-tilted against the walls of the hotelwaiting for the stage. By and by it drew in. Charley hobbled out,carrying buckets of water for the horses. The driver flung the reinsfrom him with the lordly insolence of his privileged class, descendedslowly, and swaggered to the bar-room for his drink. Billy followed toserve it.

  "Luck," said the driver, and crooked his elbow.

  "Anything new?" queried Billy.

  "Nope."

  "Held up?"

  "Nope. Black Hank's over in th' limestone."

  That exhausted the situation. The two men puffed silently for a momentat their pipes. In an instant the driver turned to go.

  "I got you a tenderfoot," he remarked then, casually; "I reckon he'soutside."

  "Guess I ambles forth and sees what fer a tenderfoot it is," repliedBilly, hastening from behind the bar.

  The tenderfoot was seated on a small trunk just outside the door. As heheld his hat in his hand, Billy could see his dome-like bald head.Beneath the dome was a little pink-and-white face, and below thatnarrow, sloping shoulders, a flat chest, and bandy legs. He wore a lightcheck suit, and a flannel shirt whose collar was much too large for him.Billy took this all in while passing. As the driver climbed to the seat,the hotel-keeper commented.

  "Say, Hen," said he, "would you stuff it or put it under a glass case?"

  "I'd serve it, a lay Tooloose," replied the driver, briefly, and broughthis long lash 8-shaped across the four startled backs of his horses.

  Billy turned to the reinspection of his guest, and met a deprecatingsmile.

  "Can I get a room here fer to-night?" he inquired in a high, pipingvoice.

  "You kin," said Billy, shortly, and began to howl for Charley.

  That patriarch appeared around the corner, as did likewise the cook, ablack-eyed, red-cheeked creature, afterward counted by Billy as one ofhis eight matrimonial ventures.

  "Snake this stranger's war-bag into th' shack," commanded Billy, "and,Nell, jest nat'rally rustle a few grub."

  The stranger picked up a small hand-satchel and followed Charley intothe building. When, a little later, he reappeared for supper, he carriedthe hand-bag with him, and placed it under the bench which flanked thetable. Afterward he deposited it near his hand while enjoying a pipeoutside. Naturally, all this did not escape Billy.

  "Stranger," said he, "yo' seems mighty wedded to that thar satchel."

  "Yes, sir," piped the stranger. Billy snorted at the title. "I has somepersonal belongin's which is valuable to me." He opened the bag andproduced a cheap portrait of a rather cheap-looking woman. "My motherthat was," said he.

  Billy snorted again and went inside. He hated sentiment of all kinds.

  The two men sat opposite each other and ate supper, which was served bythe red-cheeked girl. The stranger kept his eyes on his plate while shewas in the room. He perched on the edge of the bench with his feettucked under him and resting on the toes. When she approached, themuscles of his shoulders and upper arms grew rigid with embarrassment,causing strange awkward movements of the hands. He answered inmonosyllables.

  Billy ate expansively and earnestly. Toward the close of the mealCharley slipped into place beside him. Charley was out of humour, andfound the meat cold.

  "Damn yore soul, Nell," he cried, "this yere ain't fitten fer a _hog_ toeat!"

  The girl did not mind; nor did Billy. It was the country's mode ofspeech. The stranger dropped his knife.

  "I don't wonder you don't like it, then," said he, with a funny littleblaze of anger.

  "Meanin' what?" shouted Charley, threateningly.

  "You sure mustn't speak to a lady that way," replied the stranger,firmly, in his little piping voice.

  Billy caught the point and exploded in a mighty guffaw.

  "Bully fer you!" he cried, slapping his knee; "struck pyrites (hepronounced it pie-rights) fer shore that trip, Charley."

  The girl, too, laughed, but quietly. She was just a little touched,though only this winter she had left Bismarck because the place wouldhave no more of her.

  In the face of Billy's approval, the patriarch fell silent.

  About midnight the four inmates of the frontier hotel were awakened by atremendous racket outside. The stranger arose, fully clothed, from hisbunk, and peered through the narrow open window. A dozen horses werestanding grouped in charge of a single mounted man, indistinguishable inthe dark. Out of the open door a broad band of light streamed from thesaloon, whence came the noise of voices and of boots tramping about.

  "It is Black Hank," said Billy, at his elbow, "Black Hank and hisoutfit. He hitches to this yere snubbin'-post occasional."

  Black Hank in the Hills would have translated to Jesse James farthersouth.

  The stranger turned suddenly energetic.

  "Don't you make no fight?" he asked.

  "Fight?" said Billy, wondering. "Fight? Co'se not. Hank don't plunder_me_ none. He jest ambles along an' helps himself, and leaves th' dustfer it every time. I jest lays low an' lets him operate. I never has no_dealin's_ with him, understand. He jest nat'rally waltzes in an' plantshis grub-hooks on what he needs. _I_ don't know nothin' about it. _I'm_dead asleep."

  He bestowed a shadowy wink on the stranger

  Below, the outlaws moved here and there.

  "Billy!" shouted a commanding voice, "Billy Knapp!"

  The hotel-keeper looked perplexed.

  "Now, what's he tollin' _me_ for?" he asked of the man by his side.

  "Billy!" shouted the voice again, "come down here, you Siwash. I want topalaver with you!"

  "All right, Hank," replied Billy.

  He went to his "room," and buckled on a heavy belt; then descended thesteep stairs. The bar-room was lighted and filled with men. Some of themwere drinking and eating; others were strapping provisions into portableform. Against the corner of the bar a tall figure of a man leanedsmoking--a man lithe, active, and muscular, with a keen dark face, andblack eyebrows which met over his nose. Billy walked silently to thisman.

  "What is it?" he asked, shortly. "This yere ain't in th' agreement."

  "I know that," replied the stranger.

  "Then leave yore dust and vamoose."

  "My dust is there," replied Black Hank, placing his hand on a buckskinbag at his side, "and you're paid, Billy Knapp. I want to ask you aquestion. Standing Rock has sent fifty thousand dollars in greenbacks toSpotted Tail. The messenger went through here to-day. Have you seenhim?"

  "Nary messenger," replied Billy, in relief. "Stage goes empty."

  Charley had crept down the stairs and into the room.

  "What in hell are yo' doin' yere, yo' ranikaboo ijit?" inquired Billy,truculently.

  "That thar stage ain't what you calls _empty_," observed Charley,unmoved.

  A light broke on Billy's mind. He remarked the valise which the strangerhad so carefully guarded; and though his common-sense told him that aninoffensive non-combatant such as his guest would hardly be chosen asexpr
ess messenger, still the bare possibility remained.

  "Yo're right," he agreed, carelessly, "thar is one tenderfoot, who knowsas much of ridin' express as a pig does of a ruffled shirt."

  "I notes he's almighty particular about that carpet-bag of his'n,"insisted Charley.

  The man against the counter had lost nothing of the scene. Billy'sdenial, his hesitation, his half-truth all looked suspicious to him.With one swift, round sweep of the arm he had Billy covered. Billy'shands shot over his head without the necessity of command.

  The men ceased their occupations and gathered about. Scenes of this sortwere too common to elicit comment or arouse excitement. They knewperfectly well the _laissez-faire_ relations which obtained between thetwo Westerners.

  "Now," said Black Hank, angrily, in a low tone, "I want to know why inhell you tried that monkey game!"

  Billy, wary and unafraid, replied that he had tried no game, that he hadforgotten the tenderfoot for the moment, and that he did not believe thelatter would prove to be the sought-for express messenger.

  One of the men, at a signal from his leader, relieved Billy's heavy beltof considerable weight. Then the latter was permitted to sit on acracker-box. Two more mounted the stairs. In a moment they returned toreport that the upper story contained no human beings, strange orotherwise, except the girl, but that there remained a small trunk. Underfurther orders, they dragged the trunk down into the bar-room. It wasbroken open and found to contain nothing but clothes--of the plainsman'scut, material, and state of wear; a neatly folded Mexican saddle showinguse, and a raw-hide quirt.

  "Hell of a tenderfoot!" said Black Hank, contemptuously.

  The outlaws had already scattered outside to look for the trail. In thisthey were unsuccessful, reporting, indeed, that not the faintest signindicated escape in any direction.

  Billy knew his man. The tightening of Black Hank's close-knit browsmeant but one thing. One does not gain chieftainship of any kind in theWest without propping his ascendency with acts of ruthless decision.Billy leaped from his cracker-box with the suddenness of the puma,seized Black Hank firmly about the waist, whirled him into a sort ofshield, and began an earnest struggle for the instant possession of theoutlaw's drawn revolver. It was a gallant attempt, but an unsuccessfulone. In a moment Billy was pinioned to the floor, and Black Hank wasrubbing his abraded fore-arm. After that the only question was whetherit should be rope or bullet.

  Now, when Billy had gone downstairs, the stranger had wasted no furthertime at the window. He had in his possession fifty thousand dollars ingreenbacks which he was to deliver as soon as possible to the SpottedTail agency in Wyoming. The necessary change of stage lines had forcedhim to stay over night at Billy Knapp's hotel.

  The messenger seized his bag and softly ran along through thecanvas-partitioned room wherein Billy slept, to a narrow window which hehad already noticed gave out almost directly into the pine woods. Thewindow was of oiled paper, and its catch baffled him. He knew it shouldslide back; but it refused to slide. He did not dare break the paperbecause of the crackling noise. A voice at his shoulder startled him.

  "I'll show you," whispered the red-cheeked girl.

  She was wrapped loosely in a blanket, her hair falling about hershoulders, and her bare feet showed beneath her coverings. The littleman suffered at once an agony of embarrassment in which the thought ofhis errand was lost. It was recalled to him by the girl.

  "There you are," she whispered, showing him the open window.

  "Thank you," he stammered, painfully, "I assure you--I wish----"

  The girl laughed under her breath.

  "That's all right," she said, heartily, "I owe you that for calling oldwhiskers off his bronc," and she kissed him.

  The messenger, trembling with self-consciousness, climbed hastilythrough the window; ran the broad loop of the satchel up his arm; and,instead of dropping to the ground, as the girl had expected, swunghimself lightly into the branches of a rather large scrub-oak that grewnear. She listened to the rustle of the leaves for a moment as he nearedthe trunk, and then, unable longer to restrain her curiosity in regardto the doings below, turned to the stairway.

  As she did so, two men mounted. They examined the three rooms of theupper story hastily but carefully, paying scant attention to her, anddeparted swearing. In a few moments they returned for the stranger'strunk. Nell followed them down the stairs as far as the doorway. Thereshe heard and saw things, and fled in bitter dismay to the back of thehouse when Billy Knapp was overpowered.

  At the window she knelt, clasping her hands and sinking her head betweenher arms. Women in the West, at least women like Nell, do not weep. Butshe came near it. Suddenly she raised her head. A voice next her ear hadaddressed her.

  She looked here and there and around, but could discover nothing.

  "Here, outside," came the low, guarded voice, "in the tree."

  Then she saw that the little stranger had not stirred from his firstalighting-place.

  "Beg yore pardon, ma'am, fer startling you or fer addressing you at all,which I shouldn't, but----"

  "Oh, never mind that," said the girl, impatiently, shaking back herhair. So deprecating and timid were the tones, that almost without aneffort of the imagination she could picture the little man's blushes andhis half-sidling method of delivery. At this supreme moment hislittleness and lack of self-assertion jarred on her mood. "What're youdoin' there? Thought you'd vamoosed."

  "It was safer here," explained the stranger, "I left no trail."

  She nodded comprehension of the common-sense of this.

  "But, ma'am, I took the liberty of speakin' to you because you seems tobe in trouble. Of course, I ain't got no right to _ask_, an' if youdon't care to tell me----"

  "They're goin' to kill Billy," broke in Nell, with a sob.

  "What for?"

  "I don't jest rightly make out. They's after someone, and they thinksBilly's cacheing him. I reckon it's you. Billy ain't cacheing nothin',but they thinks he is."

  "It's me they's after, all right. Now, you know where I am, why don'tyou tell them and save Billy?"

  The girl started, but her keen Western mind saw the difficulty at once.

  "They thinks Billy pertects you jest th' same."

  "Do you love him?" asked the stranger.

  "God knows I'm purty tough," confessed Nell, sobbing, "but I jest dothat!" and she dropped her head again.

  The invisible stranger in the gloom fell silent, considering.

  "I'm a pretty rank proposition, myself," said he at last, as if tohimself, "and I've got a job on hand which same I oughta put throughwithout givin' attention to anything else. As a usual thing folks don'tcare fer me, and I don't care much fer folks. Women especial. Theydrives me plumb tired. I reckon I don't stack up very high in th' bluechips when it comes to cashin' in with the gentle sex, anyhow; but ingeneral they gives me as much notice as they lavishes on a doodle-bug. Iain't kickin', you understand, nary bit; but onct in a dog's age I kindof hankers fer a decent look from one of 'em. I ain't never had nowomen-folks of my own, never. Sometimes I thinks it would be somescrumptious to know a little gal waitin' fer me somewhere. They ain'tnone. They never will be. I ain't built that way. You treated me whiteto-night. You're th' first woman that ever kissed me of her own accord."

  The girl heard a faint scramble, then the soft _pat_ of someone landingon his feet. Peering from the window she made out a faint, shadowy formstealing around the corner of the hotel. She put her hand to her heartand listened. Her understanding of the stranger's motives was vague atbest, but she had caught his confession that her kiss had meant much tohim, and even in her anxiety she felt an inclination to laugh. She hadbestowed that caress as she would have kissed the cold end of a dog'snose.

  The men below stairs had, after some discussion, decided on bullet. Thiswas out of consideration for Billy's standing as a frontiersman.Besides, he had stolen no horses. In order not to delay matters, theexecution was fixed for the present time and place. Billy stood
with hisback to the logs of his own hotel, his hands and feet bound, but hiseyes uncovered. He had never lost his nerve. In the short respite whichpreparation demanded, he told his opponents what he thought of them.

  "Proud?" he concluded a long soliloquy as if to the reflector of thelamp. "Proud?" he repeated, reflectively. "This yere Hank's jest thatproud he's all swelled up like a poisoned pup. Ain't everyone kin coralla man sleepin' and git fifty thousand without turnin' a hair."

  Black Hank distributed three men to do the business. There were noheroics. The execution of this man was necessary to him, not because hewas particularly angry over the escape of the messenger--he expected tocapture that individual in due time--but in order to preserve hisauthority over his men. He was in the act of moving back to give theshooters room, when he heard behind him the door open and shut.

  He turned. Before the door stood a small consumptive-looking man in alight check suit. The tenderfoot carried two short-barrelled Colt'srevolvers, one of which he presented directly at Black Hank.

  "'Nds up!" he commanded, sharply.

  Hank was directly covered, so he obeyed. The new-comer's eye had astrangely restless quality. Of the other dozen inmates of the room,eleven were firmly convinced that the weapon and eye not directlylevelled at their leader were personally concerned with themselves. Thetwelfth thought he saw his chance. To the bewildered onlookers thereseemed to be a flash and a bang, instantaneous; then things were asbefore. One of the stranger's weapons still pointed at Black Hank'sbreast; the other at each of the rest. Only the twelfth man, he who hadseen his chance, had collapsed forward to the floor. No one could assurehimself positively that he had discerned the slightest motion on thepart of the stranger.

  "Now," said the latter, sharply, "one at a time, gentlemen. Drop yoregun," this last to Black Hank, "muzzle down. Drop it! Correct!"

  One of the men in the back of the room stirred slightly on the ball ofhis foot.

  "Steady, there!" warned the stranger. The man stiffened.

  "Next gent," went on the little man, subtly indicating another. Thelatter obeyed without hesitation. "Next. Now you. Now you in th'corner."

  One after another the pistols clattered to the floor. Not for an instantcould a single inmate of the apartment, armed or unarmed, flatterhimself that his slightest motion was unobserved. They were like tigerson the crouch, ready to spring the moment the man's guard lowered. Itdid not lower. The huddled figure on the floor reminded them of whatmight happen. They obeyed.

  "Step back," commanded the stranger next. In a moment he had themstanding in a row against the wall, rigid, upright, their hands overtheir heads. Then for the first time the stranger moved from hisposition by the door.

  "Call her," he said to Billy, "th' girl."

  Billy raised his voice. "Nell! Oh, Nell!"

  In a moment she appeared in the doorway at the foot of the stairs,without hesitation or fear. When she perceived the state of affairs, shebrightened almost mischievously.

  "Would you jest as soon, ma'am, if it ain't troubling you too much, jestnat'rally sort of untie Billy?" requested the stranger.

  She did so. The hotel-keeper stretched his arms.

  "Now, pick up th' guns, please."

  The two set about it.

  "Where's that damn ol' reprobate?" inquired Billy, truculently, lookingabout for Charley.

  The patriarch had quietly slipped away.

  "You kin drop them hands," advised the stranger, lowering the muzzles ofhis weapons. The leader started to say something.

  "You shut up!" said Billy, selecting his own weapons from the heap.

  The stranger suddenly picked up one of the Colt's single-actionrevolvers which lay on the floor, and, holding the trigger back againstthe guard, exploded the six charges by hitting the hammer smartly withthe palm of his hand. In the thrusting motion of this discharge heevidently had design, for the first six wine-glasses on Billy's bar wereshivered. It was wonderful work, rattling fire, quicker than aself-cocker even. He selected another weapon. From a pile of tomato-canshe took one and tossed it into the air. Before it had fallen he hadperforated it twice, and as it rolled along the floor he helped itsprogression by four more bullets which left streams of tomato-juicewhere they had hit. The room was full of smoke. The group watched,fascinated.

  Then the men against the wall grew rigid. Out of the film of smoke long,vivid streams of fire flashed toward them, now right, now left, like thealternating steam of a locomotive's pistons. _Smash, smash! Smash,smash!_ hit the bullets with regular thud. With the twelfth dischargethe din ceased. Midway in the space between the heads of each pair ofmen against the wall was a round hole. No one was touched.

  A silence fell. The smoke lightened and blew slowly through the opendoor. The horses, long since deserted by their guardians in favour ofthe excitement within, whinnied. The stranger dropped the smoking Colts,and quietly reproduced his own short-barrelled arms from hisside-pockets, where he had thrust them. Billy broke the silence at last.

  "That's _shootin'_!" he observed, with a sigh.

  "Them fifty thousand is outside," clicked the stranger. "Do you wantthem?"

  There was no reply.

  "I aims to pull out on one of these yere hosses of yours," said he."Billy he's all straight. He doesn't know nothin' about me."

  He collected the six-shooters from the floor.

  "I jest takes these with me for a spell," he continued. "You'll findthem, if you look hard enough, along on th' trail--also yore broncs."

  He backed toward the door.

  "I'm layin' fer th' man that sticks his head out that door," he warned.

  "Stranger," said Black Hank as he neared the door.

  The little man paused.

  "Might I ask yore name?"

  "My name is Alfred," replied the latter.

  Black Hank looked chagrined.

  "I've hearn tell of you," he acknowledged.

  The stranger's eye ran over the room, and encountered that of the girl.He shrank into himself and blushed.

  "Good-night," he said, hastily, and disappeared. A moment later the beatof hoofs became audible as he led the bunch of horses away.

  For a time there was silence. Then Billy, "By God, Hank, I means tostand in with you, but you let that kid alone, or I plugs you!"

  "Kid, huh!" grunted Hank. "Alfred a kid! I've hearn tell of him."

  "What've you heard?" inquired the girl.

  "He's th' plumb best scout on th' southern trail," replied Black Hank.

  The year following, Billy Knapp, Alfred, and another man named JimBuckley took across to the Hills the only wagon-train that dared set outthat summer.