by Max Brand
15
Before Donnegan gave the signal to halt in a clear space where thestarlight was least indistinct, they reached the center of the trees.
"Now, George," he said, "drop your gun to the ground."
There was a flash and faint thud.
"Now the other gun."
"They ain't any more, sir."
"Your other gun," repeated Donnegan.
A little pause. "Do what he tells you, George," said the gambler atlength, and a second weapon fell.
"Now keep on your horse and keep a little off to the side," went onDonnegan, "and remember that if you try to give me the jump I might missyou in this light, but I'd be sure to hit your horse. So don't takechances, George. Now, sir, just hold your hands over your head and thendismount."
He had already gone through the gambler and taken his weapons; he wasnow obeyed. The man of the linen coat tossed up his arms, flung hisright leg over the horn of the saddle, and slipped to the ground.
Donnegan joined his captive. "I warn you first," he said gently, "thatI am quite expert with a revolver, and that it will be highly dangerousto attempt to trick me. Lower your arms if you wish, but please becareful of what you do with your hands. There are such things as knifethrowing, I know, but it takes a fast wrist to flip a knife faster thana bullet. We understand each other?"
"Perfectly," agreed the other. "By the way, my name is Godwin. Andsuppose we become frank. You are in temporary distress. It wasimpossible for you to make a loan at the moment and you are driven tothis forced--touch. Now, if half--"
"Hush," said Donnegan. "You are too generous. But the present questionis not one of money. I have long since passed over that. The money isnow mine. Steady!" This to George, who lurched in the saddle; but Godwinwas calm as stone. "It is not the question of the money that troublesme, but the question of the men. I could easily handle one of you. But Ifear to allow both of you to go free. You would return on my trail;there are such things as waylayings by night, eh? And so, Mr. Godwin, Ithink my best way out is to shoot you through the head. When your bodyis found it will be taken for granted that the servant killed the masterfor the sake of the money which he won by crooked card play. I thinkthat's simple. Put your hands up, George, or, by heck, I'll let thestarlight shine through you!"
The huge arms of George were raised above his head; Godwin, in themeantime, had not spoken.
"I almost think you mean it," he said after a short pause.
"Good," said Donnegan. "I do not wish to kill you unprepared."
There was a strangled sound deep in the throat of Godwin; then he wasable to speak again, but now his voice was made into a horrible jumbleby fear.
"Pal," he said, "you're dead wrong. George here--he's a devil. If youlet him live he'll kill you--as sure as you're standing here. You don'tknow him. He's George Green. He's got a record as long as my arm and asbad as the devil's name. He--he's the man to get rid of. Me? Why, man,you and I could team it together. But George--not--"
Donnegan began to laugh, and the gambler stammered to a halt.
"I knew you when I laid eyes on you for the first time," said Donnegan."You have the hands of a craftsman, but your eyes are put too closetogether. A coward's eyes--a cur's face, Godwin. But you, George--haveyou heard what he said?"
No answer from George but a snarl.
"It sounds logical what he said, eh, George?"
Dead silence.
"But," said Donnegan, "there are flaws in the plan. Godwin, get out ofyour clothes."
The other fell on his knees.
"For heaven's sake," he pleaded.
"Shut up," commanded Donnegan. "I'm not going to shoot you. I neverintended to, you fool. But I wanted to see if you were worth splittingthe coin with. You're not. Now get out of your clothes."
He was obeyed in fumbling haste, and while that operation went on, hesucceeded in jumping out of his own rags and still kept the two fairlysteadily under the nose of his gun. He tossed this bundle to Godwin, whoaccepted it with a faint oath; and Donnegan stepped calmly and swiftlyinto the clothes of his victim.
"A perfect fit," he said at length, "and to show that I'm pleased,here's your purse back. Must be close to two hundred in that, from theweight."
Godwin muttered some unintelligible curse.
"Tush. Now, get out! If you show your face in The Corner again, some ofthose miners will spot you, and they'll dress you in tar and feathers."
"You fool. If they see you in my clothes?"
"They'll never see these after tonight, probably. You have other clothesin your packs, Godwin. Lots of 'em. You're the sort who knows how todress, and I'll borrow your outfit. Get out!"
The other made no reply; a weight seemed to have fallen upon him alongwith his new outfit, and he slunk into the darkness. George made a moveto follow; there was a muffled shriek from Godwin, who fled headlong;and then a sharp command from Donnegan stopped the big man.
"Come here," said Donnegan.
George Washington Green rode slowly closer.
"If I let you go what would you do?"
There was a glint of teeth.
"I'd find him."
"And break him in two, eh? Instead, I'm going to take you home, whereyou'll have a chance of breaking me in two instead. There's somethingabout the cut of your shoulders and your head that I like, Green; and ifyou don't murder me in the first hour or so, I think we'll get on verywell together. You hear?"
The silence of George Washington Green was a tremendous thing.
"Now ride ahead of me. I'll direct you how to go."
He went first straight back through the town and up the hill to the twotents. He made George go before him into the tent and take up the rollof bedding; and then, with George and the bedding leading the way, andDonnegan leading the two horses behind, they went across the hillside toa shack which he had seen vacated that evening. It certainly could notbe rented again before morning, and in the meantime Donnegan would be inpossession, which was a large part of the law in The Corner, as he knew.
A little lean-to against the main shack served as a stable; the creekdown the hillside was the watering trough. And Donnegan stood by whilethe big Negro silently tended to the horses--removing the packs andpreparing them for the night. Still in silence he produced a smalllantern and lighted it. It showed his face for the first time--the skinebony black and polished over the cheekbones, but the rest of the facealmost handsome, except that the slight flare of his nostrils gave him acast of inhuman ferocity. And the fierceness was given point by a pairof arms of gorilla length; broad shoulders padded with rolling muscles,and the neck of a bull. On the whole, Donnegan, a connoisseur offighting men, had never seen such promise of strength.
At his gesture, George led the way into the house. It was morecommodious than most of the shacks of The Corner. In place of a singleroom this had two compartments--one for the kitchen and another for theliving room. In vacating the hut, the last occupants had left some ofthe furnishings behind them. There was a mirror, for instance, in thecorner; and beneath the mirror a cheap table in whose open drawerappeared a tumble of papers. Donnegan dropped the heavy sack of Godwin'swinnings to the floor, and while George hung the lantern on a nail onthe wall, Donnegan crossed to the table and appeared to run through thepapers.
He was humming carelessly while he did it, but all the time he watchedwith catlike intensity the reflection of George in the mirror above him.He saw--rather dimly, for the cheap glass showed all its images inwaves--that George turned abruptly after hanging up the lantern, paused,and then whipped a hand into his coat pocket and out again.
Donnegan leaped lightly to one side, and the knife, hissing past hishead, buried itself in the wall, and its vibrations set up a vicioushumming. As for Donnegan, the leap that carried him to one side whirledhim about also; he faced the big man, who was now crouched in the veryact of following the knife cast with the lunge of his powerful body.There was no weapon in Donnegan's hand, and yet George hesitated,balanced--and then slowl
y drew himself erect.
He was puzzled. An outburst of oaths, the flash of a gun, and he wouldhave been at home in the brawl, but the silence, the smile of Donneganand the steady glance were too much for him. He moistened his lips, andyet he could not speak. And Donnegan knew that what paralyzed George wasthe manner in which he had received warning. Evidently the simpleexplanation of the mirror did not occur to the fellow; and the wholeincident took on supernatural colorings. A phrase of explanation andDonnegan would become again an ordinary human being; but while the smalllink was a mystery the brain and body of George were numb. It wasnecessary above all to continue inexplicable. Donnegan, turning, drewthe knife from the wall with a jerk. Half the length of the keen bladehad sunk into the wood--a mute tribute to the force and speed ofGeorge's hand--and now Donnegan took the bright little weapon by thepoint and gave it back to the other.
"If you throw for the body instead of the head," said Donnegan, "youhave a better chance of sending the point home."
He turned his back again upon the gaping giant, and drawing up a brokenbox before the open door he sat down to contemplate the night. Not asound behind him. It might be that the big fellow had regained his nerveand was stealing up for a second attempt; but Donnegan would havewagered his soul that George Washington Green had his first and lastlesson and that he would rather play with bare lightning than ever againcross his new master.
At length: "When you make down the bunks," said Donnegan, "put minefarthest from the kitchen. You had better do that first."
"Yes--sir," came the deep bass murmur behind him.
And the heart of Donnegan stirred, for that "sir" meant many things.
Presently George crossed the floor with a burden; there was the "whish"of the blankets being unrolled--and then a slight pause. It seemed tohim that he could hear a heavier breathing. Why? And searching swiftlyback through his memory he recalled that his other gun, a stub-nosedthirty-eight, was in the center of his blanket roll.
And he knew that George had the weapon in his big hand. One pressure ofthe trigger would put an end to Donnegan; one bullet would give Georgethe canvas sack and its small treasure.
"When you clean my gun," said Donnegan, "take the action to pieces andgo over every part."
He could actually feel the start of George.
Then: "Yes, sir," in a subdued whisper.
If the escape from the knife had startled George, this second incidenthad convinced him that his new master possessed eyes in the back of hishead.
And Donnegan, paying no further heed to him, looked steadily across thehillside to the white tent of Lou Macon, fifty yards away.