Gunman's Reckoning

by Max Brand

  18

  Before Milligan's the crowd began to buzz like murmuring hornets arounda nest that has been tapped, when they pour out and cannot find thedisturber. It was a rather helpless milling around the wounded man, andNelly Lebrun was the one who worked her way through the crowd and cameto Andy Lewis. She did not like Andy. She had been known to refer to himas a cowardly hawk of a man; but now she bullied the crowd in a shrillvoice and made them bring water and cloth. Then she cleansed andbandaged the wound in Andy Lewis' arm and had some of them take himaway.

  By this time the outskirts of the crowd had melted away; but those whohad really seen all parts of the little drama remained to talk. Thesubject was a real one. Had Donnegan aimed at the hand of Andy andrisked his own life on his ability to disable the other without killinghim? Or had he fired at Lewis' body and struck the hand and arm only bya random lucky chance?

  If the second were the case, he was only a fair shot with plenty ofnerve and a great deal of luck. If the first were true, then this was anerve of ice-tempered steel, an eye vulture-sharp, and a hand,miraculous, fast, and certain. To strike that swinging hand with a snapshot, when a miss meant a bullet fired at his own body at deadly shortrange--truly it would take a credulous man to believe that Donnegan hadcoldly planned to disable his man without killing him.

  "A murderer by intention," exclaimed Milligan. He had hunted long andhard before he found a man with a face like that of Lewis, capable ofmaintaining order by a glance; now he wanted revenge. "A murder byintention!" he cried to the crowd, standing beside the place where theimprint of Andy's knees was still in the sand. "And like a murderer heought to be treated. He aimed to kill Andy; he had luck and only brokehis hand. Now, boys, I say it ain't so much what he's done as the wayhe's done it. He's given us the laugh. He's come in here in his dudeclothes and tried to walk over us. But it don't work. Not in The Corner.If Andy was dead, I'd say lynch the dude. But he ain't, and all I sayis: Run him out of town."

  Here there was a brief outburst of applause, but when it ended, it wasobserved that there was a low, soft laughter. The crowd gave way betweenMilligan and the mocker. It was seen that he who laughed was old Lebrun,rubbing his olive-skinned hands together and showing his teeth in hismirth. There was no love lost between Lebrun and Milligan, even if Nellywas often in the dance hall and the center of its merriment.

  "It takes a thief to catch a thief," said Lebrun enigmatically, when hesaw that he had the ear of the crowd, "and it takes a man to catch aman."

  "What the devil do you mean by that?" a dozen voices asked.

  "I mean, that if you got men enough to run out this man Donnegan, TheCorner is a better town than I think."

  It brought a growl, but no answer. Lebrun had never been seen to lifthis hand, but he was more dreaded than a rattler.

  "We'll try," said Milligan dryly. "I ain't much of a man myself"--therewere dark rumors about Milligan's past and the crowd chuckled at thismodesty--"but I'll try my hand agin' him with a bit of backing. Andfirst I want to tell you boys that they ain't any danger of him havingaimed at Andy's hand. I tell you, it ain't possible, hardly, for him tohave planned to hit a swingin' target like that. Maybe some could do it.I dunno."

  "How about Lord Nick?"

  "Sure, Lord Nick might do anything. But Donnegan ain't Lord Nick."

  "Not by twenty pounds and three inches."

  This brought a laugh. And by comparison with the terrible and familiarname of Lord Nick, Donnegan became a smaller danger. Besides, asMilligan said, it was undoubtedly luck. And when he called forvolunteers, three or four stepped up at once. The others made a generalmilling, as though each were trying to get forward and each wereprevented by the crowd in front. But in the background big Jack Landiswas seriously trying to get to the firing line. He was encumbered withthe clinging weight of Nelly Lebrun.

  "Don't go, Jack," she pleaded. "Please! Please! Be sensible. For mysake!"

  She backed this appeal with a lifting of her eyes and a parting of herlips, and Jack Landis paused.

  "You won't go, dear Jack?"

  Now, Jack knew perfectly well that the girl was only half sincere. It isthe peculiar fate of men that they always know when a woman is playingwith them, but, from Samson down, they always go to the slaughter withopen eyes, hoping each moment that the girl has been seriously impressedat last. As for Jack Landis, his slow mind did not readily get under thesurface of the arts of Nelly, but he knew that there was at least atinge of real concern in the girl's desire to keep him from the possewhich Milligan was raising.

  "But they's something about him that I don't like, Nelly. Something sortof familiar that I don't like." For naturally enough he did notrecognize the transformed Donnegan, and the name he had never heardbefore. "A gunfighter, that's what he is!"

  "Why, Jack, sometimes they call you the same thing; say that you huntfor trouble now and then!"

  "Do they say that?" asked the young chap quickly, flushing with vanity."Oh, I aim to take care of myself. And I'd like to take a hand with thismurdering Donnegan."

  "Jack, listen! Don't go; keep away from him!"

  "Why do you look like that? As if I was a dead one already."

  "I tell you, Jack, he'd kill you!"

  Something in her terrible assurance whitened the cheeks of Landis, buthe was also angered. When a very young man becomes both afraid and angryhe is apt to be dangerous. "What do you know of him?" he askedsuspiciously.

  "You silly! But I saw his face when he lifted that mint. He'd alreadyforgotten about the man he had just shot down. He was thinking ofnothing but the scent of the mint. And did you notice his giant servant?He never had a moment's doubt of Donnegan's ability to handle the entirecrowd. I tell you, it gave me a chill of ghosts to see the big blackfellow's eyes. He knew that Donnegan would win. And Donnegan won! Jack,you're a big man and a strong man and a brave man, and we all know it.But don't be foolish. Stay away from Donnegan!"

  He wavered just an instant. If she could have sustained her pleadinggaze a moment longer she would have won him, but at the critical instanther gaze became distant. She was seeing the calm face of Donnegan as heraised the mint. And as though he understood, Jack Landis hardened.

  "I'm glad you don't want me shot up, Nelly," he said coldly. "Mightygood of you to watch out for me. But--I'm going to run this Donnegan outof town!"

  "He's never harmed you; why--"

  "I don't like his looks. For a man like me that's enough!"

  And he strode away toward Milligan. He was greeted by a cheer just asthe girl reached the side of her father.

  "Jack is going," she said. "Make him come back!"

  But the old man was still rubbing his hands; there seemed to be aperpetual chill in the tips of the fingers.

  "He is a jackass. The moment I first saw his face I knew that he wasmeant for gun fodder--buzzard food! Let him go. Bah!"

  The girl shivered. "And then the mines?" she asked, changing hertactics.

  "Ah, yes. The mines! But leave that to Lord Nick. He'll handle it wellenough!"

  So Jack Landis strode up the hill first and foremost of the six stalwartmen who wished to correct the stranger's apparent misunderstandings ofthe status of The Corner. They were each armed to the teeth and eachprovided with enough bullets to disturb a small city. All this in honorof Donnegan.

  They found the shack wrapped in the warm, mellow light of the lateafternoon; and on a flat-topped rock outside it big George satwhittling a stick into a grotesque imitation of a snake coiled. He didnot rise when the posse approached. He merely rocked back upon the rock,embraced his knees in both of his enormous arms, and, in a word,transformed himself into a round ball of mirth. But having hugged awayhis laughter he was able to convert his joy into a vast grin. That smilestopped the posse. When a mob starts for a scene of violence the leastexhibition of fear incenses it, but mockery is apt to pour water on itsflames of anger.

  Decidedly the fury of the posse was chilled by the grin of George.Milligan, who had lived south of
the Mason-Dixon line, stepped up toimpress George properly.

  "Boy," he said, frowning, "go in and tell your man that we've come forhim. Tell him to step right out here and get ready to talk. We don'tmean him no harm less'n he can't explain one or two things. Hop along!"

  The "boy" did not stir. Only he shifted his eyes from face to face andhis grin broadened. Ripples of mirth waved along his chest and convulsedhis face, but still he did not laugh. "Go in and tell them things toDonnegan," he said. "But don't ask me to wake him up. He's sleepin'soun' an' fas'. Like a baby; mostly, he sleeps every day to get restedup for the night. Now, can't you-all wait till Donnegan wakes uptonight? No? Then step right in, gen'lemen; but if you-all is set onwakin' him up now, George will jus' step over the hill, because he don'twant to be near the explosion."

  At this, he allowed his mirth free rein. His laughter shook up to histhroat, to his enormous mouth; it rolled and bellowed across thehillside; and the posse stood, each man in his place, and lookedfrigidly upon one another. But having been laughed at, they felt itnecessary to go on, and do or die. So they strode across the hill andwere almost to the door when another phenomenon occurred. A girl in acheap calico dress of blue was seen to run out of a neighboring shackand spring up before the door of Donnegan's hut. When she faced thecrowd it stopped again.

  The soft wind was blowing the blue dress into lovely, long, curvinglines; about her throat a white collar of some sheer stuff was beinglifted into waves, or curling against her cheek; and the golden hair, indisorder, was tousled low upon her forehead.

  Whirling thus upon the crowd, she shocked them to a pause, with herparted lips, her flare of delicate color.

  "Have you come here," she cried, "for--for Donnegan?"

  "Lady," began someone, and then looked about for Jack Landis, who wasconsidered quite a hand with the ladies. But Jack Landis was discoveredfading out of view down the hillside. One glance at that blue dress hadquite routed him, for now he remembered the red-haired man who hadescorted Lou Macon to The Corner--and the colonel's singular trust inthis fellow. It explained much, and he fled before he should be noticed.

  Before the spokesman could continue his speech, the girl had whippedinside the door. And the posse was dumbfounded. Milligan saw that theadvance was ruined. "Boys," he said, "we came to fight a man; not tostorm a house with a woman in it. Let's go back. We'll tend to Donneganlater on."

  "We'll drill him clean!" muttered the others furiously, and straightwaythe posse departed down the hill.

  But inside the girl had found, to her astonishment, that Donnegan wasstretched upon his bunk wrapped again in the silken dressing gown andwith a smile upon his lips. He looked much younger, as he slept, andperhaps it was this that made the girl steal forward upon tiptoe andtouch his shoulder so gently.

  He was up on his feet in an instant. Alas, vanity, vanity! Donnegan inshoes was one thing, for his shoes were of a particular kind; butDonnegan in his slippers was a full two inches shorter. He was hardlytaller than the girl; he was, if the bitter truth must be known, almosta small man. And Donnegan was furious at having been found by her insuch careless attire--and without those dignity-building shoes. Firsthe wanted to cut the throat of big George.

  "What have you done, what have you done?" cried the girl, in one ofthose heart-piercing whispers of fear. "They have come for you--a wholecrowd--of armed men--they're outside the door! What have you done? Itwas something done for me, I know!"

  Donnegan suddenly transferred his wrath from big George to the mob.

  "Outside my door?" he asked. And as he spoke he slipped on a belt atwhich a heavy holster tugged down on one side, and buckled it aroundhim.

  "Oh, no, no, no!" she pleaded, and caught him in her arms.

  Donnegan allowed her to stop him with that soft power for a moment,until his face went white--as if with pain. Then he adroitly gatheredboth her wrists into one of his bony hands; and having rendered herpowerless, he slipped by her and cast open the door.

  It was an empty scene upon which they looked, with big George rockingback and forth upon a rock, convulsed with silent laughter. Donneganlooked sternly at the girl and swallowed. He was fearfully susceptibleto mockery.

  "There seems to have been a jest?" he said.

  But she lifted him a happy, tearful face.

  "Ah, thank heaven!" she cried gently.

  Oddly enough, Donnegan at this set his teeth and turned upon his heel,and the girl stole out the door again, and closed it softly behind her.As a matter of fact, not even the terrible colonel inspired in her quitethe fear which Donnegan instilled.