Delphi Collected Works of Max Brand US, page 8
“Me speakin’ personal,” remarked Shorty Rhinehart, “I ain’t layin’ out to be no man-eater like the chief, but I ain’t seen the man that’d make me take to the timbers that way. I don’t noways expect there is such a man!”
“Shorty,” said Haines calmly, “we all knows that you’re quite a man, but you and Terry are the only ones of us who are surprised that Silent slid away. The rest of us who saw this Whistling Dan in action aren’t a bit inclined to wonder. Suppose you were to meet a black panther down here in the willows?”
“I wouldn’t give a damn if I had my Winchester with me.”
“All right, Terry, but suppose the panther,” broke in Hal Purvis, “could sling shootin’ irons as well as you could — maybe that’d make you partic’ler pleased.”
“It ain’t possible,” said Terry.
“Sure it ain’t,” grinned Purvis amiably, “an’ this Barry ain’t possible, either. Where you going, Lee?”
Haines turned from his task of saddling his mount.
“Private matter. Kilduff, you take my place while I’m gone. I may be back tomorrow night. The chief isn’t apt to return so soon.”
A few moments later Haines galloped out of the willows and headed across the hills towards old Joe Cumberland’s ranch. He was remembering his promise to Kate, to keep Dan out of danger. He had failed from that promise once, but that did not mean that he had forgotten. He looked up to the yellow-bright mountain stars, and they were like the eyes of good women smiling down upon him. He guessed that she loved Barry and if he could bring her to Whistling Dan she might have strength enough to take the latter from Silent’s trail. The long rider knew well enough that to bring Dan and Kate together was to surrender his own shadowy hopes, but the golden eyes of the sky encouraged him. So he followed his impulse.
Haines could never walk that middle path which turns neither to the right nor the left, neither up nor down. He went through life with a free-swinging stride, and as the result of it he had crossed the rights of others. He might have lived a lawful life, for all his instincts were gentle. But an accident placed him in the shadow of the law. He waited for his legal trial, but when it came and false witness placed him behind the bars, the revolt came. Two days after his confinement, he broke away from his prison and went to the wilds. There he found Jim Silent, and the mountain-desert found another to add to its list of great outlaws.
Morning came as he drew close to the house, and now his reminiscences were cut short, for at a turn of the road he came upon Kate galloping swiftly over the hills. He drew his horse to a halt and raised his hand. She followed suit. They sat staring. If she had remembered his broken promise and started to reproach, he could have found answer, but her eyes were big with sorrow alone. He put out his hand without a word. She hesitated over it, her eyes questioning him mutely, and then with the ghost of a smile she touched his fingers.
“I want to explain,” he said huskily.
“What?”
“You remember I gave you my word that no harm would come to Barry?”
“No man could have helped him.”
“You don’t hold it against me?”
A gust of wind moaned around them. She waved her arm towards the surrounding hills and her laugh blended with the sound of the wind, it was so faint. He watched her with a curious pang. She seemed among women what that morning was to the coming day — fresh, cool, aloof. It was hard to speak the words which would banish the sorrow from her eyes and make them brilliant with hope and shut him away from her thoughts with a barrier higher than mountains, and broader than seas.
“I have brought you news,” he said at last, reluctantly.
She did not change.
“About Dan Barry.”
Ay, she changed swiftly enough at that! He could not meet the fear and question of her glance. He looked away and saw the red rim of the sun pushing up above the hills. And colour poured up the throat of Kate Cumberland, up even to her forehead beneath the blowing golden hair.
Haines jerked his sombrero lower on his head. A curse tumbled up to his lips and he had to set his teeth to keep it back.
“But I have heard his whistle.”
Her lips moved but made no sound.
“Five other men heard him.”
She cried out as if he had hurt her, but the hurt was happiness. He knew it and winced, for she was wonderfully beautiful.
“In the willows of the river bottom, a good twenty miles south,” he said at last, “and I will show you the way, if you wish.”
He watched her eyes grow large with doubt.
“Can you trust me?” he asked. “I failed you once. Can you trust me now?”
Her hand went out to him.
“With all my heart,” she said. “Let us start!”
“I’ve given my horse a hard ride. He must have some rest.”
She moaned softly in her impatience, and then: “We’ll go back to the house and you can stable your horse there until you’re ready to start. Dad will go with us.”
“Your father cannot go,” he said shortly.
“Cannot?”
“Let’s start back for the ranch,” he said, “and I’ll tell you something about it as we go.”
As they turned their horses he went on: “In order that you may reach Whistling Dan, you’ll have to meet first a number of men who are camping down there in the willows.”
He stopped. It became desperately difficult for him to go on.
“I am one of those men,” he said, “and another of them is the one whom Whistling Dan is following.”
She caught her breath and turned abruptly on him.
“What are you, Mr. Lee?”
Very slowly he forced his eyes up to meet her gaze.
“In that camp,” he answered indirectly, “your father wouldn’t be safe!”
It was out at last!
“Then you are—”
“Your friend.”
“Forgive me. You are my friend!”
“The man whom Dan is following,” he went on, “is the leader. If he gives the command four practised fighters pit themselves against Barry.”
“It is murder!”
“You can prevent it,” he said. “They know Barry is on the trail, but I think they will do nothing unless he forces them into trouble. And he will force them unless you stop him. No other human being could take him off that trail.”
“I know! I know!” she muttered. “But I have already tried, and he will not listen to me!”
“But he will listen to you,” insisted Haines, “when you tell him that he will be fighting not one man, but six.”
“And if he doesn’t listen to me?”
Haines shrugged his shoulders.
“Can’t you promise that these men will not fight with him?”
“I cannot.”
“But I shall plead with them myself.”
He turned to her in alarm.
“No, you must not let them dream you know who they are,” he warned, “for otherwise—”
Again that significant shrug of the shoulders.
He explained: “These men are in such danger that they dare not take chances. You are a woman, but if they feel that you suspect them you will no longer be a woman in their eyes.”
“Then what must I do?”
“I shall ride ahead of you when we come to the willows, after I have pointed out the position of our camp. About an hour after I have arrived, for they must not know that I have brought you, you will ride down towards the camp. When you come to it I will make sure that it is I who will bring you in. You must pretend that you have simply blundered upon our fire. Whatever you do, never ask a question while you are there — and I’ll be your warrant that you will come off safely. Will you try?”
He attempted no further persuasion and contented himself with merely meeting the wistful challenge of her eyes.
“I will,” she said at last, and then turning her glance away she repeated softly, “I will.”
He knew that she was already rehearsing what she must say to Whistling Dan.
“You are not afraid?”
She smiled.
“Do you really trust me as far as this?”
With level-eyed tenderness that took his breath, she answered: “An absolute trust, Mr. Lee.”
“My name,” he said in a strange voice, “is Lee Haines.”
Of one accord they stopped their horses and their hands met.
11. SILENT BLUFFS
THE COMING OF the railroad had changed Elkhead from a mere crossing of the ways to a rather important cattle shipping point. Once a year it became a bustling town whose two streets thronged with cattlemen with pockets burdened with gold which fairly burned its way out to the open air. At other times Elkhead dropped back into a leaden-eyed sleep.
The most important citizen was Lee Hardy, the Wells Fargo agent. Office jobs are hard to find in the mountain-desert, and those who hold them win respect. The owner of a swivel-chair is more lordly than the possessor of five thousand “dogies.” Lee Hardy had such a swivel-chair. Moreover, since large shipments of cash were often directed by Wells Fargo to Elkhead, Hardy’s position was really more significant than the size of the village suggested. As a crowning stamp upon his dignity he had a clerk who handled the ordinary routine of work in the front room, while Hardy set himself up in state in a little rear office whose walls were decorated by two brilliant calendars and the coloured photograph of a blond beauty advertising a toilet soap.
To this sanctuary he retreated during the heat of the day, while in the morning and evening he loitered on the small porch, chatting with passers-by. Except in the hottest part of the year he affected a soft white collar with a permanent bow tie. The leanness of his features, and his crooked neck with the prominent Adam’s apple which stirred when he spoke, suggested a Yankee ancestry, but the faded blue eyes, pathetically misted, could only be found in the mountain-desert.
One morning into the inner sanctum of this dignitary stepped a man built in rectangles, a square face, square, ponderous shoulders, and even square- tipped fingers. Into the smiling haze of Hardy’s face his own keen black eye sparkled like an electric lantern flashed into a dark room. He was dressed in the cowboy’s costume, but there was no Western languor in his make-up. Everything about him was clear cut and precise. He had a habit of clicking his teeth as he finished a sentence. In a word, when he appeared in the doorway Lee Hardy woke up, and before the stranger had spoken a dozen words the agent was leaning forward to be sure that he would not miss a syllable.
“You’re Lee Hardy, aren’t you?” said he, and his eyes gave the impression of a smile, though his lips did not stir after speaking.
“I am,” said the agent.
“Then you’re the man I want to see. If you don’t mind—”
He closed the door, pulled a chair against it, and then sat down, and folded his arms. Very obviously he meant business. Hardy switched his position in his chair, sitting a little more to the right, so that the edge of the seat would not obstruct the movement of his hand towards the holster on his right thigh.
“Well,” he said good naturedly, “I’m waitin’.”
“Good,” said the stranger, “I won’t keep you here any longer than is necessary. In the first place my name is Tex Calder.”
Hardy changed as if a slight layer of dust had been sifted over his face. He stretched out his hand.
“It’s great to see you, Calder,” he said, “of course I’ve heard about you. Everyone has. Here! I’ll send over to the saloon for some red-eye. Are you dry?”
He rose, but Calder waved him back to the swivel-chair.
“Not dry a bit,” he said cheerily. “Not five minutes ago I had a drink of — water.”
“All right,” said Hardy, and settled back into his chair.
“Hardy, there’s been crooked work around here.”
“What in hell—”
“Get your hand away from that gun, friend.”
“What the devil’s the meaning of all this?”
“That’s very well done,” said Calder. “But this isn’t the stage. Are we going to talk business like friends?”
“I’ve got nothing agin you,” said Hardy testily, and his eyes followed Calder’s right hand as if fascinated. “What do you want to say? I’ll listen. I’m not very busy.”
“That’s exactly it,” smiled Tex Calder, “I want you to get busier.”
“Thanks.”
“In the first place I’ll be straight with you. Wells Fargo hasn’t sent me here.”
“Who has?”
“My conscience.”
“I don’t get your drift.”
Through a moment of pause Calder’s eyes searched the face of Hardy.
“You’ve been pretty flush for some time.”
“I ain’t been starvin’.”
“There are several easy ways for you to pick up extra money.”
“Yes?”
“For instance, you know all about the Wells Fargo money shipments, and there are men around here who’d pay big for what you could tell them.”
The prominent Adam’s apple rose and fell in Hardy’s throat.
“You’re quite a joker, ain’t you Calder? Who, for instance?”
“Jim Silent.”
“This is like a story in a book,” grinned Hardy. “Go on. I suppose I’ve been takin’ Silent’s money?”
The answer came like the click of a cocked revolver.
“You have!”
“By God, Calder—”
“Steady! I have some promising evidence, partner. Would you like to hear part of it?”
“This country has its share of the world’s greatest liars,” said Hardy, “I don’t care what you’ve heard.”
“That saves my time. Understand me straight. I can slap you into a lock- up, if I want to, and then bring in that evidence. I’m not going to do it. I’m going to use you as a trap and through you get some of the worst of the long riders.”
“There’s nothin’ like puttin’ your hand on the table.”
“No, there isn’t. I’ll tell you what you’re to do.”
“Thanks.”
The marshal drove straight on.
“I’ve got four good men in this town. Two of them will always be hanging around your office. Maybe you can get a job for them here, eh? I’ll pay the salaries. You simply tip them off when your visitors are riders the government wants, see? You don’t have to lift a hand. You just go to the door as the visitor leaves, and if he’s all right you say: ‘So long, we’ll be meeting again before long.’ But if he’s a man I want, you say ‘Good-bye.’ That’s all. My boys will see that it is good-bye.”
“Go on,” said the agent, “and tell the rest of the story. It starts well.”
“Doesn’t it?” agreed Calder, “and the way it concludes is with you reaching over and shaking hands with me and saying ‘yes’!”
He leaned forward. The twinkle was gone from his eyes and he extended his hand to Hardy. The latter reached out with an impulsive gesture, wrung the proffered hand, and then slipping back into his chair broke into hysterical laughter.
“The real laugh,” said Calder, watching his man narrowly, “will be on the long riders.”
“Tex,” said the agent. “I guess you have the dope. I won’t say anything except that I’m glad as hell to be out of the rotten business at last. Once started I couldn’t stop. I did one ‘favour’ for these devils, and after that they had me in their power. I haven’t slept for months as I’m going to sleep tonight!”
He wiped his face with an agitated hand.
“A week ago,” he went on, “I knew you were detailed on this work. I’ve been sweating ever since. Now that you’ve come — why, I’m glad of it!”
A faint sneer touched Calder’s mouth and was gone.
“You’re a wise man,” he said. “Have you seen much of Jim Silent lately?”
Hardy hesitated. The role of informer was new.
“Not directly.”
Calder nodded.
“Now put me right if I go off the track. The way I understand it, Jim Silent has about twenty gun fighters and long riders working in gangs under him and combining for big jobs.”
“That’s about it.”
“The inside circle consists of Silent; Lee Haines, a man who went wrong because the law did him wrong; Hal Purvis, a cunning devil; and Bill Kilduff, a born fighter who loves blood for its own sake.”
“Right.”
“Here’s something more. For Jim Silent, dead or alive, the government will pay ten thousand dollars. For each of the other three it pays five thousand. The notices aren’t out yet, but they will be in a few days. Hardy, if you help me bag these men, you’ll get fifty per cent of the profits. Are you on?”
The hesitancy of Hardy changed to downright enthusiasm.
“Easy money, Tex. I’m your man, hand and glove.”
“Don’t get optimistic. This game isn’t played yet, and unless I make the biggest mistake of my life we’ll be guessing again before we land Silent. I’ve trailed some fast gunmen in my day, and I have an idea that Silent will be the hardest of the lot; but if you play your end of the game we may land him. I have a tip that he’s lying out in the country near Elkhead. I’m riding out alone to get track of him. As I go out I’ll tell my men that you’re O.K. for this business.”
He hesitated a moment with his hand on the door knob.
“Just one thing more, Hardy. I heard a queer tale this morning about a fight in a saloon run by a man named Morgan. Do you know anything about it?”
“No.”
“I was told of a fellow who chipped four dollars thrown into the air at twenty yards.”
“That’s a lie.”
“The man who talked to me had a nicked dollar to prove his yarn.”
“The devil he did!”
“And after the shooting this fellow got into a fight with a tall man twice his size and fairly mopped up the floor with him. They say it wasn’t a nice thing to watch. He is a frail man, but when the fight started he turned into a tiger.”
“Wish I’d seen it.”
“The tall man tallies to a hair with my description of Silent.”
